The Biker's Wench (11 page)

Burns’ goon gestured toward the hall with his gun and Harley kept one arm around Monica's shoulders as they walked to the master suite. Anger and guilt settled like lead in his gut as the door to the bedroom shut firmly behind them. He should have known about the bugs, should have never let her go through with this scheme. She'd been insistent about her role though and he'd finally given in against his better judgment.

He caressed the side of her face with one hand, the other pulling her in towards his chest. She offered no resistance as he tilted her chin up and kissed her once, softly. Leaning forward, he embraced her, his lips just a hair away from her ear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, careful to keep his voice as low as possible. "It's going to be okay, but I need your help now if we're going to get out of here. Are you up to it?"
Monica nodded almost imperceptibly. He rubbed her back with slow circles that he hoped would ease some of the tension emanating off her in waves. "Let's take a shower," he said, making no effort to hide his voice. She nodded and stood, swiping at the damp area under her eyes with her fingers.
"Okay," she said, holding her hand out to him. The gesture of trust wasn't lost on him, and he brought her fingers to his lips before leading her toward the bathroom. Closing the door behind them, he winked at her, turned on the water in the sink and then leaned in to start the shower, turning the tap on full blast. When he turned back, she was just reaching for the hem of her shirt, but he shook his head.
"The shower will have to wait, if that's okay," he said just above a whisper. "I just needed some background noise so we can get out of here."
She frowned, glancing around the smallish room. "I don't see any windows..."
He chuckled. "There aren't any down here. But I have something better." He grabbed her hand and reached for the light switch, plunging the room into total darkness, just in case Burns had planted cameras too, the sick bastard. "Don't let go of my hand," he said, tugging Monica along as he made his way across the room to a small linen closet. He pulled the door open and reached in, running his free hand over the back wall about six feet up. Finally feeling the latch, he pushed it, and a slight click signaled his success. He turned to the right and stepped forward, pushing against the side wall. It swung away from him and he stepped into the old tunnel, making sure Monica was clear of the door before closing it firmly behind them.
"Where are we?" Monica's grip tightened on his hand, and he squeezed back to reassure her, his foot sweeping wide along the dirt floor. Something solid impeded his movement and he bent down to retrieve the heavy-duty flashlight he'd been looking for. Switching it on, he turned the beam enough to let him see Monica's surprised expression. "Another tunnel?"
He nodded, grabbing her hand again and pulling her down the dark shaft. "There are several of them beneath the compound, many of them connecting to various buildings and underground meeting rooms. Betsy and I discovered them by accident when we bought the place - as near as we can tell, this must have been home to some sort of cult or secretive group at some point." He took a right down another tunnel, stopping at an old wooden door. "This is one of the rooms we're renovating for the harem fantasy - there's a stairwell inside that goes up to Sultan's Castle. We should be safe here until we figure out what to do about your father - the room isn't available to guests yet."
He led her inside and reached out to pull an ornate red tassel that hung from the ceiling. Lavender light bathed the room in a mellow haze.
"Wow," she breathed, wonder and appreciation on her face. "This is amazing."

Harley watched Monica take it all in, his eyes never leaving her face as she took in the nearly-finished harem suite. The fear he'd seen just a short while ago was gone, appreciative wonder lighting her face.

"You're amazing," he said, moving behind her and sliding his hands over his hips and around her waist, cocooning her in his embrace. She didn't move away, putting her hands lightly over his. Her touch sent blood rushing straight between his thighs, and he bent his head low, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck before straightening again.

He glanced over her head at the walls, the dirt hidden by a stone veneer covering and topped with yards and yards of wispy, light blue tulle. In the center of the matching tiled floor there was a sunken area with benches around the edge covered in large, ornate pillows. In the middle on a huge blue Persian rug, a huge round bed sat dressed in a pastel yellow satin comforter with more pillows stacked up against a curved brass headboard. A gleaming gold halo supported by four posters held a curtain of filmy blue and white silks, hung at different heights for a seductive, inviting look.

Monica slowly let her head fall back to rest against his chest. "It's already perfect what's left?" She turned her head, looking up at him with wide, soft eyes. He bent down to place a soft kiss on her moist lips, his erection pressing against her ass.

"It needs girls," he said, grinning when she rolled her eyes and turned away, though she seemed content to stay in his arms. "These are fantasy suites, darlin'. We make money giving people what they want. And some people fantasize about being in or having a harem."

She turned in his arms, her hands on his chest. "Do you fantasize about having a harem?" A wink told him she was teasing, and he laughed, his knuckles gently rubbing the sides of her ribcage. Something like hope swelled inside him.

"Nah." He chuckled, tweaking her pebbled nipples through her shirt. "One woman's enough trouble for me," he said with a smirk.
Those delectable lips pursed in mock offense, and she pushed hard against his chest, the unexpected move sending him back a couple of steps. She turned and walked away, down the steps into the sunken area. "You're going to pay for that, Harlan Majors."
He grinned, noting she was headed in the general direction of that big bed. Jogging to catch up, he grabbed her by the waist just as she reached out to touch one of the bits of hanging silk. "Bring it on, sweetheart," he murmured in her ear as she pretended to struggle. "Let's see what you've got." He tossed her on the bed, earning a shriek of surprise for the effort. Settling between her legs he braced himself on his elbows and looked down into her sparkling eyes. "You were saying something about payment?"
"Was I?" Her voice was husky, and his smile faded as a contemplative look crossed her face. "I seem to have forgotten..."
He captured her lips with his own then, his tongue dancing with hers as he moved his hips against her pelvis. She moaned low in her throat, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him tight against her. He needed no further encouragement - even if she didn't stay, they both needed this, needed each other.
In no mood to be patient, he pulled back, yanking his shirt over his head. "I want you naked in twenty seconds," he said, reaching for the button on his jeans. He shimmied out of them and looked over at Monica, her elbows propped up on the bed and an appreciative look in her eye.
"When did you get so bossy?" she asked, sitting up and pulling her shirt off. Harley tried to think of a witty come back as he watched, but words deserted him as soon as he saw those gorgeous breasts. She smiled, knowingly. "A little distracted, Majors?"
Harlan nodded, stepping forward to reach for the button on her pants. "I suspect that's the way you want it, witch." He pulled her jeans off her hips, and tossed them aside then pushed her legs apart. "So pink," he said, caressing her inner lips with one finger. "So pretty." He knelt between her legs and trailed kisses up the inside of her thigh to her warm, wet core. Swirling and licking, he played between her legs, pumping two fingers in and out of her sheath as he flicked at her clit. Monica arched up, moaning and he moved over her, sucking one small earlobe into his mouth as he buried his pulsing cock in her warmth.
Monica cried out as Harley pushed inside her. It was too much and not enough all at once, and she moved her hips against him as he thrust in and out sending currents of pleasure up her spine. His tongued kisses on her neck completed the circuit, her entire body a relentless mass of swirling energy. Harder and faster, she met him again and again as he brought her to the edge, reaching between them to press a finger against her center at the same time his teeth closed over the spot where her neck and shoulder joined. As she shattered around him, felt his warm seed spilling deep within her, she realized that this time he was claiming her. Marking her as his in a primal, instinctual way.
She should mind. She should push him away; ask him just what the hell he thought he was doing not using a condom.
She didn't.
He lay spent on top of her, his arms curled protectively under her shoulders and his face still resting against her neck. She caressed his shoulders and back with her fingertips, laying slow, gentle kisses across the top of his shoulder. He moved, bracing himself on his elbows as he raised his head to look in her eyes.
"Stay with me, sweetheart. Not just until Burns is gone, but after that. Promise me." His gaze was so intense, possessive and unapologetic. From any other man, it would be intimidating, but she'd known him long enough to understand it for what it was. Reassurance that he wanted her. That he would take care of her. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what she needed, and she was grateful.
She smoothed one hand over the side of his face, blinking back tears. "I'll stay," she whispered, her throat too tight for anything more. "I promise."
Harley nodded, leaning in to place a soft, moist kiss on her lips. Then he moved off of her and she shuddered as the cold air hit her vulnerable skin. Emotions raw, she sat up in a daze and reached for her shirt.
"Hey." She turned to look at the man responsible for her emotional state. He smiled, brushing a few stray hairs out of her face. "You okay?"
She nodded; forcing what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Sure. Absolutely." Closing her eyes she accepted another kiss, and then allowed him to pull her to her feet. "So now what?" she said, mentally trying to shake off both the fog in her head and the residual feelings of doubt and fear that threatened to surface again.
He shrugged, turning to pull his own shirt on. "Now we get that evidence against Burns and nail his ass."
Monica finished buttoning her jeans. "Good plan. Any ideas on how we do that, now that Daniels is...uh, gone, and we aren't exactly on the inside anymore?"
"I've been giving that a lot of thought, actually." He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a cavalier kiss on her fingers. "Honey, I think it's time to buy a baby."
Monica smiled indulgently. "That's great," she said, slipping her fingers out of Harley's grasp. "But I think you're forgetting that everyone knows what we look like. Wouldn't it be better if we had someone else do it? Like the police?"
He shrugged. "Do you really want to take the chance that Burns has the local police in his pocket? I think it would be safer to get the information and go straight to the FBI with it. All we have to do is set up the meet, tape the whole thing, and get ourselves and the evidence to the FBI."
"You make it sound so easy - but you still haven't told me how we're going to get around the fact that they've all seen us."
He grinned, reaching out to run a hand along a pile of beaded silk on the table behind him. "We specialize in fantasies here, sweetheart. When we get done, Burns won't recognize either one of us."
Monica followed him up a steep spiral staircase in the corner. He pushed open the red door at the top and they entered a huge, cavernous room with another sunken circle in the center. Ornate chaise lounges and more of the large silky pillows were scattered everywhere, and there appeared to be about a couple dozen girls in scant harem attire doting on just three men in flowing robes, each commanding his own lounger.
She followed Harley to the imposing double doors at the far end of the room and out of the harem, into a wide hall with shiny stone floors and thick white columns. Big potted plants gave it a lush feel, and small raised islands filled with fine white sand reminded her of a desert oasis. "So the room below is for..."
"Couples or groups who want a slightly more private fantasy." Harley winked, and then pulled her past the front doors and down a side hall, staying away from the generous windows that fronted the main road on the ranch. "There's someone I want you to meet. You can stay with her while I go gather a few things we'll need. I'll have her bring you to the salon when we're ready."
She tried to pull out of his grip, but he held tight. "Wait. Why can't I go with you? And what are you going to get? Let me go!" She yanked hard and her feet slipped on the smooth floor as her hand came free. Landing on her butt, she slid backwards into a stone column, her head knocking against the surface with a resounding thud.
Harley was kneeling in front of her in two seconds, his worried eyes looking down into hers as he cradled her head in his hands. "Monica? Honey? Talk to me, sweetheart. I need to know you're okay..."
She winced at how loud the words sounded. "You don't have to shout. Ow..." Lifting a hand to the back of her head, she felt around for the bruised spot as he lifted her to her feet. "Damn that...whoa..." she swayed, a touch of dizziness pulling her off balance.
"Easy there." Harley pulled her close and kissed her forehead, then leaned down and picked her up in his arms. "We need to get some ice, and I'll have the doctor come take a look. You're gonna have a nasty bump, if nothing else."
Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his shoulder, her head throbbing too much to argue. "I'm sorry," she murmured, opening her eyes to look up at him as he carried her down the hall. "I didn't mean--"
"Shh." He stopped in front of a door and bent his head to place a soft kiss on her lips. "It wasn't your fault - I'm the one who needs to apologize." Without taking his gaze from hers, he kicked on the door three times. "I want you to be safe. Please wait for me here?"
Monica nodded, wincing at the motion as the door opened. She glanced over to see a tall, willowy blond with straight hair and an abundance of eyeliner looking at them with an amused expression.
"Monica Majors, meet Veronica Rowan."