Twisted Asphalt (Asphalt Outlaw Series Book 1) (14 page)

“I need you to love me, Mace.” Her voice was pleading,
desperate to his ears.

A flat hand pushed her back into the blanket, allowing him
to crawl over her until he was face to face with her. “I will.” His words were
full of promise as he pushed himself up to pull off his t-shirt and toss it
aside. Lowering himself so half of his body laid over hers, he felt her heart
beat against his chest.

He didn’t expect her to take control, but her leg curled in
his and she rolled. Finding himself on his back was a welcomed turn of events.
She tossed her bra over with their other clothing, a wicked gleam in her eyes
as she turned to look at him. Straddling his hips, she lowered her torso to
his, pressing her soft breasts against his chest.

He tangled his fingers in her silken hair when her mouth
found his collarbone. Gentle and slow, she dragged her teeth along his skin,
followed by her tongue. Nails trailed along his ribs, making his skin jump at
the almost tickling, yet arousing touch. She was a biter. Mouth and teeth found
every inch of his body while she worked her way down the length of his torso.
She was trying to drive him crazy and it was working.

His pants grew uncomfortably tight, and the soft shifting of
her hips against his didn’t help. He knew she could feel his arousal and was
working it to her advantage. Shift of hips with a nibble against his ribs had
him gasping for air.

Mace’s head lifted when Amy pushed up and scooted down to
his thighs. Single brow lifted in silent question, which was answered when she
met his eyes with her smoldering gaze and her hands took hold of his belt
buckle. He couldn’t breathe when she unhooked the leather from metal and her
deft fingers unbuttoned his jeans.

“Take your boots off.”

Yeah, that might help. He chuckled softly as he used the toe
of one foot against the heel of his other to kick off his boots. She was going
to push him to new limits if she kept this up. He thought she didn’t want
control, but when she took it, he gladly gave it up. Too bad he didn’t bring
his handcuffs…

Reality returned when he felt his zipper lowering, tooth by
agonizing tooth. Opening his eyes, he found her watching him with an intent
look, her eyes glassy, lips parting as her tongue swept out and across them.
Jesus, the things he imagined her doing with that mouth.

She didn’t waste time, tugging his pants, forcing him to
lift his hips and reach down to help her.

His boxers went with his jeans, tossed aside with ease by
her eagerness. Amy stood, kicking off her boots, then wiggling out of her jeans
to stand before him in her full naked glory. She was more beautiful than she
gave herself credit for. Long toned legs, not too muscular, but enough from years
of riding. Her stomach was almost flat, a tiny pooch he wanted to sink his
teeth into, and he loved her perfect small breasts with large dark pink
nipples.

His appraisal of her standing before him was evident when
she lowered back down, spreading his legs with her hands. He couldn’t stop the
quick inhale of breath when her hair fell against the very core of him, his
body hypersensitive when he was fully hard. He was almost in pain with how hard
he was and when the very tip of her tongue licked up the back of his shaft with
languid ease, he nearly lost control.

“Shit!” He gasped, lifting his head to watch her. Her eyes
locked with his as her lips parted, rolling completely over the head. Muscles
jerked as he watched her mouth completely envelope his length. He felt her
tongue swirl around the base of his shaft, her hot breath and warm mouth nearly
driving him insane, making him forget to breathe.

His head fell back to the blanket, but his hands tangled in
her hair. Her mouth made love to him, his hips moving in gentle timing to her
suckling motions. He wouldn’t last if she continued, a man could only take so
much, especially when she cupped his sac, massaged the twins as her other hand
joined her mouth’s sweet movement.

The swelling of his shaft must have told her he was about to
lose control, or it could have been the rigid legs and taut thighs, or perhaps
even the curled fingers crushing the blanket under him. Whatever it was, he was
grateful to be released from delicious pleasure.

It was replaced by a different pleasure.

She rose on her knees, a goddess in her own right,
worshipping his body. She straddled his hips with her hands on his chest. He
grabbed her hips, wrapped her fingers around him and guided her body on him.
The cords of his neck strained when he tried not to lift his hips and impale
himself into her tight folds.

Sweet and slow at first, her hips moved gently and
methodically, matching his each upward motion. Her walls were tight and slick
around him, her very heat driving him close to the brink. To be buried so deep
inside her, watching her head fall back was almost more than he could take.
Mace’s hand explored the small of her back and her hips, pulling her harder
against him, urging her to speed her rhythm.

Brazenly taking his hand off her back, she placed his hand
against her. Thumb pushed between her folds, finding the nub that would send
her beyond ecstasy. Rubbing quick, then slow, the friction would send her
closer and quicker to the edge with him. He wanted her mouth, to have her cries
fill him, but she would have none of it.

He felt her walls quivering, clenching his very length,
alerting him she neared climax. He added pressure with his thumb, but she
swatted his hand away. Frowning when she rose off him, her movement was quick and
sure as she turned around and sank right back onto him, forcing a cry from him.
He didn’t expect her to want more penetration. She rode him backwards, angling
her body slightly forward to allow him to thrust even deeper into her.

Teeth ground together as he grabbed her hips, pulling her
down while he forced his hips up, not caring if she bruised. His sac grew heavy
and tight, his shaft throbbing with need to release. He tried to hold off, to
allow her to join him, but it wasn’t going to happen. She was too tight and too
wet.

“I can’t—” Too late. His body convulsed and jerked, toes
curling and his mind went blank. As he came, unable to hold back any longer,
all thought disappeared. He was surprised when it triggered her own orgasm, her
inner sanctum clenching and quivering against him while her body rocked and
twitched.

She fell slightly forward, resting her arms against his
legs, laughter and panting, causing him to twitch more, sensitive after their
lovemaking. “That was … wow.”

He lightly smacked her ass, laughing. “You could say that.”

She lifted off him, falling back to the blanket, her sweat
slicked body gleaming in the moonlight. “I think you prefer doing this outside,
don’t you?”

“Nothing wrong with communing with nature.” He chuckled as
he lifted up on his elbows, watching her from under the hair that fell over his
eyes. “Just call it working up an appetite?”

She grabbed his shirt and threw it at him. “Very funny.”

He laughed and set his shirt aside. “I thought so. I didn’t
spend hours slaving over a stove for nothing.”

“Don’t make me throw your belt buckle at you.” She rolled
slightly and grabbed the wine and drank from the bottle.

“How about we get dressed and go back, and I’ll cook you a
real meal?” He picked up his shirt and pulled it on. Pushing up, he rose off
the blanket and grabbed his boxers.

“I like that idea. I’m sure everyone is hungry by now. We
can show Dad and Romeo just how domesticated you really are.”

Mace flipped her off and pulled on his boxers. Just what he
needed. More teasing from the guys. Her laughter was infectious. He slipped his
boots on while watching her dress. How was he going to get her to believe him
when the time came? He was falling for her, hell—he already had fallen, who was
he kidding? 

CHAPTER 19

Work had a way of getting the mind away from things one
didn’t want to think about. Amy was all about working herself to death at the
moment. It had been a week since the explosion and while living with Mace was
everything she hoped it would be, it was also pushing her to the edge of a
cliff she wasn’t sure she wanted to jump off yet. Instead of jumping, she threw
herself into work, having a huge sale the same day as a club barbeque at Waller
Park. Mace and her dad were upset she didn’t show but shit happened.

The sale was a great idea, even if she did piss off Maggie,
who seemed to be Demon’s property these days.  Maggie wanted to go. Amy kept
telling her to, she had Antonia, but Maggie kept refusing. Antonia had to push
Maggie out the door and threaten to lock her out and fire her if she didn’t go
to the barbeque. It worked.

Too busy to have any form of coherent thought, other than
working the cash register and talking to customers about different teas and
coffees was a welcomed reprieve from making herself sick thinking about her
feelings. It must have been written all over her face when she handled one
transaction. Antonia came over and whispered that he was about to play twenty
questions in front of the customers if she didn’t smile.

Of course, it worked.

Amy wasn’t interested in Antonia’s version of twenty
questions. They would scare the hell out of the customers, and he made everyone
answer them, there was no getting out of it. That was exactly what happened
once the store closed.

Amy wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings at the
coffee station, but the sound of the door locking woke her up. Looking over her
shoulder, lips twitched, she tried not to smile at her friend’s antics.

Antonia laid back against the doors in a melodramatic pose,
sprawled out like he was trying to stop anyone else from coming through it.
“Why dah-ling, I declare!”

“I’m sorry, Scarlett. But frankly, I don’t give a damn.” Amy
bounced her brows at Antonia, then set up her machine to brew the two of them
cappuccinos.

Antonia swished over to the set of couches and flopped down
onto one, kicking up his feet, displaying his new heels. “Oh, baby girl, you’re
going to give a damn when I ask you twenty questions.”

Amy hung her head and groaned. “Do we really have to play?”

Antonia flashed his pearly whites, wagging a cherry red
painted fingernail in her direction. “Mhmn. Question one. What the hell is on
your mind that has you preoccupied and looking like you swallowed castor oil?”

Amy couldn’t control her burst of laughter at the question. Steaming
the milk in her steel pitcher, she cleared her throat before she answered.
“Mace.”

“And that makes you look like you’re constipated and being
spoon fed castor oil to wipe that horrid expression off your face?”

“That was question two.” Amy gently spooned the froth onto
the espresso after she poured in the milk. “Yes, that makes me look
constipated. Whipped cream?”

He rolled his eyes, which were green today. “No, I have to
watch my girlish figure, duh. Fine, question three. Why does he make you look that
way?”

Adding whipped cream to her own cup, she sprinkled cinnamon
over both their drinks and handed off Antonia’s to him. “Because he worries
me.”

Antonia took the cup, cocking his head to the side, his red
lashes fluttered as he rolled his eyes once more. “How can that stud worry
you?”

“You’re using up your questions, Antonia. That was four.”
Licking off some of the cream, she curled up on the opposite couch after
kicking off her boots. “I’m not sure. I guess we’re getting too close, too
quick.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Five. Yes, it is.”

Antonia’s glossed lips narrowed into a thin line, showing
Amy just how aggravated he was getting with her. “Fine. Question six. How is
that a bad thing? Most women would kill to have what you have right now.”

Amy crinkled her nose as she stared at her cup, thumb
running along the rim while she debated on how to answer Antonia. “He’s
dangerous.” Lifting her eyes, she met Antonia’s, one shoulder lifting then
falling. “He’s sexy, smart and dangerous. That’s a bad combination to put
together. He’s going to hurt me, I know he is. I just can’t keep away from the
flames.”

“You’re falling for him.”

“Seven. Yes, I think I am.”

Antonia shook his head. “Afraid not, girlfriend. That was an
observation, not a question. Seven would be, have you two done the horizontal
mambo? The sheet tango? The bowchicabowow?”

Amy just about spit out her coffee with Antonia’s question,
choking it down to wipe her eyes free of unshed tears of laughter. “You are
horrible, Antonia. And I’m going to say that was question seven, eight and
nine. And yes, we have.”

Antonia bolted up into a sitting position; brows arched high
as his head cocked to the side. “You’re serious? How was it? Was it worth it?
Spill the deets chicka!”

“Ten, eleven and twelve.” Amy grinned wickedly at her
friend. “Yes, I’m serious and it was well worth it. Mace is,” she paused,
trying to find the right words. “He’s attentive and controlling and wow.”

“Controlling?” The hint of worry wasn’t hidden in his voice.

“Thirteen, and yes, controlling. Dominant. Not like Demon,
at all. He’s violent and mean and abusive. This is so Mickey Rourke
Wild
Orchid
controlling.”

“Meow. Can I start purring now?” Antonia threw up a hand,
pointing at Amy, “And that was so not fourteen.”

Amy giggled, pulling her hair out of her eyes. “I purred
enough for the both of us. Trust me.”

“You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”

“Fourteen and yes, I think I am.”

Antonia popped his gums, craning his neck from one side to
the other. “Mmm, think you are?” With pursed lips, he dragged his eyes over
her. Smacking his lip gloss, Antonia rolled his eyes. “I’d say you’ve already
fallen.”

* * * *

Mace helped Romeo at the grill, okay, tried to help him.
Romeo was still stand-offish with Mace, which was going to drive him mad. Romeo
had become a close friend, but he needed to know what the hell happened with
their house. He had no choice but to call Jones and get them out there to look
around before the local department covered it up. Stone may have a few on the
inside, but Mace bet this hit deeper pockets.

“Are you done being pissed at me?” Mace spoke low enough for
Romeo to hear, glancing around as he took a swig of beer.

Romeo glanced sidelong at Mace, then turned his attention
back to the chicken. Grabbing the basting brush, he dipped it into the beer
marinade and brushed it over the golden skin of the poultry. “I’m not pissed
off, Mace. I’m concerned at the fact you’ve put my family and this club in the
limelight.”

“Agent Jones won’t do that.” Mace moved around to force Romeo
to look at him. “I can’t prove it just yet, Romeo, but I think the Sheriff is
bought by the Temer Gallo. Your house is in his jurisdiction, and his brother
is the lead FBI agent for Santa Barbara County. That means evidence can be
easily compromised.”

Romeo stilled as brooding green eyes stared out over his
aviators. “That’s a pretty big accusation right there, Mace, without proof.”

“Which is why I asked Jones to look into it before the FBI
got their hands on it. Especially after the shop was vandalized. Notice how you
guys haven’t heard shit about that since Miguel gave you the information he
did?” Mace hated to play devil’s advocate, but it was necessary with this.
“Only you know, Romeo. I think you have a plant in the club.” He lowered his
voice to a whisper, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation.

Romeo’s brow twitched, jaw flexing with jerking movement
when he turned over the chicken, letting Mace know that he had hit his mark.
“I’ve thought that for a while.”

Mace slowly nodded. He knew Romeo had thought it was him,
and boy was he right. Mace put all his money on Demon. He had the violent
personality, the cold, hard, flinty eyes, and the women that had the bruises to
prove it. No, that wasn’t enough to throw him in jail for building a bomb, but
it was enough to make Mace suspect that he would put not only Amy in danger,
but Stone. Demon wanted the president spot and Mace gathered Demon would do
everything and anything to get that title, even if it meant killing them.

Agent Sam Dean didn’t sign on to protect the Six-Gun
Outlaws, he signed on to bring them down, but it sure as fuck wasn’t going that
way. How did everything get so damn discombobulated? Where did he stop trying
to lock up Stone and take down the club? When did he start giving a fuck? He
broke his promise. That was all there was to it. He finally lost that tiny
piece of Sam locked away inside him. What the hell was he going to do?

Looking up from his beer, he glanced around the barbeque
area. Everyone but Amy was there. Maggie said they were busy at the shop, and
sure, he was upset she wasn’t there, but he wasn’t going to get in the way of
her job and business. Stone kicked back, beer in hand, talking to Saber and
Talon while Axe and Hawkeye gave Dalton shit. The Ol’Ladies milled about as
other members played horse shoes and snacked on whatever treats were lying
around. It was a happy moment. Relaxing, it screamed family.

In five days, he was going to take this family apart. He was
going to bring it down all the way to the foundation. And the woman he had
fallen in love with was going to hate him for the rest of her life. Granted,
she would never see him again after, he’d make sure she’d never make it past
his iron gates at the ranch, but a rather large confrontation was coming and he
wasn’t looking forward to it. He wouldn’t blame her, but he had to figure out a
way to let her know that his love had never been a lie.

Feeling his pocket vibrate, he sighed, setting the beer
down. It was his burner phone. Reaching in his cut, he pulled out the phone and
nudged Romeo. “It’s Jones. I’ve got to take this call.”

Romeo nodded and picked up his beer.

The only reason he let Romeo know was because of the
sneaking around he had to do. No one else needed to hear the conversation he
was about to have. It would place him in a predicament that he didn’t need.

Mace hit the accept button and placed the phone to his ear.
“Go.”

“It was a homemade pipe bomb. No signature letting us know
who it was. It was a pretty rudimentary design. We couldn’t lift any fingerprints,
no hair or fibers. It was as if it was made in a bubble or by someone who had
no hair or fingerprints in an airtight room.”

Mace listened, a frown forming. He turned his back further
to the party, “You’re telling me it was clean? You couldn’t get anything off of
it?”

“Sorry, Sam. It was the most basic pipe with a remote
detonator. It was activated by a cellphone, and no, it was a burner. We tried
tracing the numbers. We’re under the impression that James’ daughter was the
intended target.”

“I’m pretty sure she was the target and always has been. If
she’s out of the picture, it would be easier if someone could take over because
Stone would back out the moment anything happened to her.” Mace’s gut screamed
Demon. It had to be him. He saw the motive, but why Amy? It didn’t make sense,
especially since he wanted her so badly.

“Who the fuck are you talking to?”

That growling voice wasn’t hard to identify. Demon. Ending
the call, he tucked the phone back into his cut, zipping the pocket closed.
Drawing a deep breath, he turned around with a purposeful slowness, to face the
seemingly angered Demon. “None of your fucking business.”

Mace brushed past Demon, who snaked a hand out, grabbing
Mace by his forearm. Mace was brought to an abrupt halt, his eyes flicking down
to the hand that held him there. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet the cold
black stare of the sergeant at arms. “Might I suggest you get your fucking hand
off my arm before I remove it?”

Demon squeezed harder, his eyes narrowing, lips drawn into a
tight smile. “Try it.”

Mace was no longer a prospect. If he wanted to stomp a
mudhole in Demon’s ass, he could with no repercussions. What happened between
brothers, stayed between brothers. No one would interfere in the fight, unless
one was about to die, and at this rate, he was going to kill Demon. Mace knew
how he got when he fought, he would black out, and that was when shit got real.

Drawing in a deep breath, Mace closed his eyes, shutting
every emotion down. Reopening his eyes, peripheral vision took over. He saw
only Demon’s smug face. Stepping into Demon, shifting his weight toward the
large man, Mace bent his elbow at the waist. Jerking back, his elbow sank into
Demon’s ribs. Air gushing out of that ass’s mouth was reward enough. Demon let
go of his wrist to double over in pain, allowing Mace to walk away.

That was short lived.

Mace was face planted before he knew what hit him. Demon had
an advantage. He was bigger than Mace, but he wasn’t as quick. Mace quickly
covered his head with his hands as Demon sucker punched him. Demon’s weight on
his ribs didn’t help either.

With a grunt, Mace palmed the ground, pushing up; he was
able to get up enough to thrust his hips to the side, sending Demon’s ass down.
Quick roll and scramble to his knees, Mace launched himself at Demon, tackling
the surprised male backwards into the dirt.

Spitting dust out, right fist sank into Demon’s cheek bone,
his knuckles cracking under the pressure while he pulled it back to follow
through with a left hook. It never made contact; his head snapped back, the
loud crack of his teeth knocking together echoed through his head as his brain
bounced off his skull.

Lucky fucker got in an uppercut Mace never saw coming.

Shaking his head clear, tiny lights danced in front of his
eyes. Scrambling to his feet, he faced off with Demon. This wasn’t going to be
fun, and he was going to hurt in the morning. Mace saw Demon shift his weight
forward, a tell he was about to swing. Mace leaned back as the hammer-like fist
swung toward his face, a frog’s ass hair from making contact with his jaw. It
was enough to throw his body forward, giving him enough momentum to swing with
everything he had. Right fist connected with Demon’s cheek bone, blood
splattered when Mace’s fist split Demon’s skin wide open.