The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC) (11 page)

His mouth moves
up my neck pausing at my jaw just beneath my ear. My skin is so sensitive to
his touch I swear I can feel the track left by his mouth as it moved across my
skin from the bottom of my neck to my ear. It’s on fire, but not painfully so.
It’s more like a very intense sweet sharply tingling sensation. All I really
know is my skin is alive and I don’t want this to end.

I take a deep
breath and turn my head so that my mouth will meet his, and when they finally
do the reaction is immediate. What were tender, sweet explorations have become
rough but not painfully so. His hands are insistent, driven by animal like
passion and the raw, basic need to just fuck me! They’re everywhere at once
powerful, gentle, and satisfying. He seems to know what my body needs before I
even do. By the time he is tearing at my panties I have lost all sense of time,
space, and bodily control. I just feel things I have never experienced before.
We’re on the couch, what’s left of the coffee table, the floor, and upside down
hanging, spinning, pumping, up, down, side to side, every way, position
possible.

When my brain
finally catches up to my body again we’re on the recliner. How we got there
with my broken leg I’ll never know. But now completely satiated I curl up into
his powerful body, close my eyes and let myself fall hard; to sleep and
possibly to love? But that can’t be. I barely know the man. I’ve just let him
hijack my body twice but it’s far from getting to know the person who sports a
badge declaring himself a killer. As I’m falling I promise myself I’ll get to
the bottom of that before it’s too late; it it’s not too late.                                                                                                                            
                                                                

I’m just
starting my morning routine that consists of drowning myself in coffee when
Stacy shows up for work. We both decided she can assist me better here than at
the office with Jason. The plan is for me to stay with Cade one, maybe two more
days then I’ll go home where I’ll work from there another couple days before
returning to my office.

It’s a business
as usual kind of day until Cade plops himself in the recliner. He doesn’t say
anything and doesn’t seem to have any agenda either. He just sits there
watching us work. I tolerate it but I don’t like it. Maybe I’ll do the same to
him and just show up at his shop and kick back on one of his bikes and watch how
he operates. He’s quite for the first couple hours before curiosity gets the
best of him.

“That guy just
bought twenty-five thousand shares of Cisco? Where the hell does he keep them
all? He must have one hell of a basement.”

“You don’t
actually hold the physical shares. The names and how many just appear in your
account.”

He thinks about
it for a few more minutes, then the second I get off a call he asks another
question.

“So when you
sell the shares you don’t actually have who sends the check? The dude who
bought them from you?”

“You don’t
actually get a check or any physical money. It just shows up in your account.
And the brokerage that holds your account puts the money in it for you.”

He thinks on
that for a few minutes before ambushing me with more comments.

“So you’re
basically spending 80 hours a week buying and selling nothing really, and your
clients aren’t getting anything either. That guy who bought Cisco, how does he
know you gave him the best price? Maybe some guy down the street is having a
twenty percent off sale on his Cisco. Do you give refunds?”

“We don’t set
the price Cade, the market makers on the floor of the exchange set it and
everyone pays that price until there’s no more offered at that price then it
moves up or down to a new price.”

“Do you realize
how crazy that sounds?” He asks, shaking his head. “No good can come from what
you’re doing.”

“Really? ‘Cause
that last phone call I made to the guy who bought all those shares of Pfizer, I
made ten grand and it took all of five minutes to make it. What do you know
that offers that kind of money?”

“You mean other
than gun running and drug muling of course.”

“Of course.”

“Nothing does,
I suppose.” He concludes. “I just think you spend a hell of a lot of time
doing…I don’t know what. I feel like Alice and I just fell down the rabbit hole
and you’re like, the mad hatter and Stacy there is the Cheshire Cat.”

“Well at least
you haven’t called me the Queen of Hearts. That’s a definite plus.”

“Oh…I forgot
about her.”

“Now if you’ll
excuse me, I do have work to do.”

“Yes yes, go
make those rich folks even richer.”

“Where do you
get of criticizing my way of life?”

“Have I ever
said anything about your murderous ways? You still haven’t given me a plausible
explanation for your Filthy Few patch.”

He opens his
mouth to reply then shuts it immediately when there’s a loud knocking on the
door.

He disappears
down the hall and the moment I hear the door open I can tell it’s not going to
be a happy visit. I hear whispers first, and then Cade, who doesn’t swear much
for a biker, lets loose a respectably heated invective littered with curse
words.

“Son of a
fucking mother bitch ass shit fuck. I am gonna fucking find that mother fucker
and shove his fucking dick up his own ass and fuck him with it till he shits
his mother fucking ass; then I’m gonna skin the shithead alive!”

Whoa. I’m not
even sure some of those words even go together. I should know, I practically
have a masters degree in swearing. I don’t know what happened but I’m glad it’s
not me he’s pissed at right now. He is gonna go off on someone and I’m glad
it’s not me.

“Did you hear
that?” Stacy asks. “Holy crap and I thought you swore a lot.”

“Hey…before you
get all starry eyed he’s an amateur. I mean, who says mother bitch ass? That
doesn’t even make sense!”

“Wow, I never
pegged you for the jealous type Morgan.”

“Shut your
fucking trap you sideways fornicating little ho! There…how was that?”

“What’s with
the sideways bit?”

“Oh come on,
haven’t you heard that saying about Asian girls having a sideways pussy?”

“I assure you
mine is definitely vertical.” She replies. “I can show you if you want proof.”

“Maybe later.”

Cade walks in
the living room and over to the kitchen. A tall lanky biker with a blond Billy
Idol hair style follows him in. His cut doesn’t quite cover the fact that he
has a black pistol tucked in his waistband. Trouble is coming! Well, more like
trouble is here. The look on his handsome face could melt iron. I hear the
clink of glass and I know without seeing that they are sharing a drink. I
motion Stacy over to me.

“I’ll handle
the phones. I want you to snoop. I want to know if I’m in any danger by staying
here tonight. Something really bad happened and I need to know if I’m going to
be in the middle of a biker war.”

“Got it.”

My phone rings
immediately and it’s back to business. By the time I can finally breathe again
it’s three in the afternoon and Cade and Billy Idol have stormed out.

“Alright Stacy,
out with it. What the hell is going on around here? Am I in any danger?”

“Do you even need
to ask if you’re in danger? He’s the president of a very powerful motorcycle
club. Of course you’re in danger.”

“I mean new
danger related to whatever it was that kicked the hornet’s nest.”

“Yeah I don’t
know…probably. When they left Cade was also packing. Whatever they’re planning
on doing, it’s not going to be talking. Apparently Cade’s twin brother has made
some bold new moves and it resulted in the death of a couple Iron Disciples’
prospects. I guess his brother is trying to horn in on Cade’s position as
president. He’s not content with being VP and he is in the process of gathering
his power base. If they start in fighting they’re going to be swallowed up by
the next biggest club and then they both lose. Someone has to talk sense into Cade’s
brother before he does anything that can’t be undone; if he hasn’t already done
that.”

“So they’re
going to kill his brother?” I ask. That seems a bit extreme even for outlaw
bikers.

“They’re gonna
kill someone. Just be glad it’s not you.”

“Yeah…I’m glad
alright.”

“So what is it
with you two anyway?” Stacy asks.

“I don’t know…I
keep telling myself that he’s not right for me but then he gets within…within-”

“A hundred
miles and you can’t resist him?” She answers for me.

“Yeah,
something like that.”

“I need to know
if he’s really the bad type of killer.” The second I say that I have to laugh
at myself. As if there is a good kind of killer. “What did your friend say
about him other than he wanted to kick Cade’s ass?”

“Yeah, after he
got finished with his kill Cade fantasy he did tell me what he thought.”

“And?”

“Oh he’s a
killer, you know that. But he’s the good kind of killer; if there is such a
thing. Corey doesn’t believe that Cade kills for the pleasure or that when he
has to kill that he enjoys it. So I guess if you’re gonna fall for a killer you
should fall for Ethan’s type.”

“You know how
bad this makes me look? I’m a highly educated professional. I can’t let my
pussy control my life any more than a businessman can let his cock rule his
existence.”

“You love the bad
boys don’t you?” Stacy asks with a mischievous smile.

“Don’t you?”

“I like my
steady Eddie.”

“I thought his
name was Craig.”

“That was just
an expression. And yeah I like that he is predictable. The stock market is so
crazy unpredictable that it’s nice to have something I can count on in my life.
He does that for me.”

“I see…I guess
there’s some benefit in that. I guess I’m too much of an adrenaline junkie.”

“So what do you
see in guys like Cade?”

“Other than his
fucking awesome body and his kick ass…ability to kick ass! He makes me feel
safe and protected.”

“Really? Sounds
to me like he’s maybe putting you in danger. How do you know this…stuff with
his club isn’t gonna blow back on you? I mean, it already kinda did the day I
had to brain him to keep him from shooting your
oh so kick ass
boyfriend.”

“You didn’t
keep him from getting shot. He was doing fine on his own.”

“Says the
cripple on the couch that wasn’t even in the fight.”

“Yeah I was
like a referee. They can see things clearer because they’re not fighting,
they’re watching.”

“I don’t know
about that.”

“Well I do. But
I hope Cade doesn’t bring any trouble home with him.”

“You and me
both.”

“Why do-”

I stop when I
hear someone ringing the front doorbell. Who the hell is that?

“Don’t answer
it.” Stacy advises.

“Oh, like I’m
gonna just jump up and answer it.”

“Yeah, I guess
not. But-”

She stops.
Standing in the entry way to the living room is Cade but he’s giving me a queer
look.

“You okay?” I
ask. “Did you get hurt?”

The second he
opens his mouth I realize my mistake. I knew Cade had a twin brother but I
didn’t know they were identical twins. Holy crap, they look so damn close
alike. Good thing he started talking before I did something really stupid.

“You must be Cade’s
new slut.” He growls.

“And you must
be Cade’s retarded twin brother.” I retort back.

He walks across
the living room and stops in the middle. I’m propped up on the couch and Stacy
is sitting in the recliner. Neither of us is ready for what I imagine he is
looking for.