Rock point collection, p.65
Rock Point Collection, page 65
“Up at the shooting range with Nosh.”
“Good. Thanks for keeping an eye out. I’ll deal with the punk. He’s starting to piss me off good.”
I round the desk and head for the door when Yuma stops me. “Need me around tonight?”
“Nah. I’ll be here. Why?” It should be obvious from the shit-eating grin on his face, so I amend my question. “Who’s the hapless victim this time?”
“New chick who moved into unit twelve at the River’s Edge.”
“Fucking hell, Yuma. Can’t you find pussy that doesn’t have some sort of connection to any of our businesses? Do I need to remind you what happened with that chick from Brewer’s Pub last year? What was her name? Elise or something?” He blanches at the reference to the waitress he strung along for a month or two during the summer. When the girl found out they weren’t as exclusive as she thought they were—she walked in on him with his hand down the panties of the new sous-chef in the kitchen—she went ballistic with a chef’s knife. Yuma got off easy with just a nick on his palm when he tried to subdue her, but the other girl will have that scar on her chest the rest of her life. That whole scene played out during a busy weekend cocktail hour.
Alice, or whatever her name was, ended up pleading guilty to aggravated assault, and I fucking banned Yuma from Brewer’s Pub for a year. Which, now that I think about it, is almost up.
“I don’t do that anymore,” he says, looking sheepishly.
“What? You want me to believe you’re a serial monogamist now? Gimme a break, you and I both know, one of these days that pecker of yours is gonna get you into a whole lot more trouble than at the wrong end of a knife.”
“So much for trusting a brother’s word.”
“Put my life down for you, brother,” I emphasize, “but it will be a cold day in hell before I trust you to keep your dick in your goddamn jeans. Don’t need more blowback on any of our businesses.”
“Won’t be any.”
“Gonna hold you to that.”
With a last glare, I stalk out of the office and go in search of another pain in my ass.
Some days, it’s like watching over a herd of fucking preschoolers.
My talk with Rowtag is not improving my mood. The punk gets defensive, insisting he was just planning a friendly initiation to make Ahiga feel more at home. He’s a shit liar and I warn him he’s on really fucking thin ice, and that if anything happens to the boy, I’ll have his cut. The idiot still has the balls to ask for his gun back.
“You can have it back when you grow the fuck up.”
I turn my back on him when I see Luna’s ride drive up to the gate. My mood instantly improves. I open the gate for her, and leave it to Rowtag to close.
The moment she gets out, I haul her in my arms and plant a heavy one on her.
“Whew…what was that for?”
There’s a lightness about her, her smile open and her eyes bright. “You make me feel better,” I admit, grumbling to cover the sappy words.
“Bad day?”
“Yuma is doing his best to fuck his way through the entire female population of La Plata County. Rowtag is firing up the cubs to give our boy a hard time.” Her demeanor instantly changes and I can see the claws coming out. Fucking momma bear. “No worries, I’ve got that handled. But worst of all is I haven’t had your taste on my lips in fucking forever.” That makes her smile.
“Exaggerate much? I’m pretty sure you had your mouth on me two nights ago,” she teases.
“Too fucking long,” I emphasize, stealing another hard kiss before asking, “Not that I’m complainin’, but what brings you here in the middle of the afternoon? I thought you had to work ’til five?”
The smile on her face turns even brighter. “I’ve got something to tell you, but not here.”
“Is this bedroom news or office news?”
She shakes her head, lowering her eyes to the middle of my chest, but that fucking smile is still there. I’m afraid to hope what that coy little smirk might mean, but my cock is about to burst free and sing alleluia already.
“I’d say office,” she says, busting my balloon, but then she adds, “first.”
I not so patiently wait while she says her hellos to everyone, taking her sweet time, until I finally grab her hand and drag her into my office.
“Sit,” she says, her face beaming. I lower myself down in my chair as she sits her ass on the desk just inches from me. “So—I know I may have overstepped a little, and I don’t know how you guys usually handle this, but I want you to know other than Jas and me, no one knows.”
I don’t know what the fuck she’s on about, but it can’t be that bad if she’s looking this happy. “Go on,” I prompt her.
“I spent some time seeing what I could find out about Cody. He’s still very leery of sharing anything about himself. Every time he lets a little piece slip, he shuts down right away. But…” she lets the word linger and I roll my eyes.
“Turning grayer here.”
“I wasn’t very successful, but I asked Jas to look into it. Don’t worry,” she says quickly when she sees me straighten up in my chair. “This is totally off the record. I trust him with my life. Anyway, all I had to give him were bits and pieces, and he only worked on it on his own time, but he thinks he found him. Cody, I mean.”
It would be hypocritical to get pissed because she did some digging behind my back, when I’ve done exactly the same to her. I just hope to God she hasn’t acted on what she’s found out. Usually before the club does anything with that kind of information, it’s run by the lawyer.
“Tell me.”
“He’s from Monticello: Cody Tyler Washburn, twelve years old, he’ll be thirteen in December. There’s no missing person’s report. Jas ended up pulling information from the snippets of information the boy told us. He looked into known overdose cases. Filtered out the women who were listed as having a child or children of an age matching his at the time, and tracked him that way. He was five when she died, went to live with his grandparents in Monticello.”
“Found his way to Cortez somehow,” I point out.
“Hitchhiking, probably,” Luna offers. “Risky for a kid. Anyway, he was with his grandparents for three years, when they took him on a church trip to Moab. A tractor trailer crossed into oncoming traffic and plowed into the school bus transporting the church group. The grandparents, along with five others, were sitting toward the front of the bus and died.”
“Jesus,” I hiss, wincing. The poor kid doesn’t sound like he’s had any breaks in his young life.
“Cody was sitting in the back with the other kids and got off with minor scrapes and bruises. Along with everyone else, he was checked out in the hospital in Monticello and Child Services was called in right away.”
“Let me guess,” I finish for her, the picture coming through clear. “He was placed in a home where something bad happened to him, he took off running, and whatever bastards were supposed to look after him, never reported it, because they’d lose their monthly check. Am I close?”
She leans in and kisses me hard on the mouth. “Bullseye.”
“Poor kid,” I mutter and Luna’s expression turns sober.
“You know he needs help, right? This kind of tragedy and then abuse after that—not that hard to understand why he doesn’t trust. I can only imagine the kind of problems he’s bound to run into.”
“We’ll get him help,” I promise her.
“Actually—remember I mentioned overstepping? Well, I contacted my awesome therapist in Aztec, who works together with a social worker who specializes in working with traumatized and abused children. And…” she adds with a smile. “She happens to know ASL.”
“I see.”
The smile drops at my response, which comes out much gruffer than I intended.
“Well…I may have made him an appointment.”
I can barely contain my grin. “May have?”
“This Saturday at eleven. I know where it is, I’ll take him,” she rambles off.
“Come here.” She eyes me suspiciously but eventually slides off my desk and onto my lap, and I waste no time in showing my appreciation.
“So you’re not pissed?”
“Shit no. Every fuckin’ day I find new reasons to like you.”
FOURTEEN
Luna
To say I’m nervous would be an understatement.
I thought opening up would be the hardest, but I hate to admit Gary was right—confession does lighten the soul. I’m not sure what I was expecting in terms of a reaction but was surprised—in a good way—by how both Ouray and the girls responded.
It was Autumn who made a comment last night, when the conversation drifted into the bedroom, that really struck home. She said, “Sex is merely a physical expression of a state of mind. It’s not the sex itself that’s the goal, but the wish to feel connected—both in body and mind.”
That’s why I’m sitting on the back of Ouray’s bike, my arms tight around his middle, driving to his place. He insisted, both that I get on his bike—which I finally conceded to—and getting away from the clubhouse. We weren’t able to leave without letting Momma feed us first, although I wasn’t able to eat much—my stomach already a little queasy.
“Relax,” Ouray rumbles, reaching for my hand which is fisted around his belly, catching me as I glance over at his tense reflection in his rearview mirror for the third time in the short trip.
Easier said than done, as doubts about how the night would play out start creeping in. I’d been ready when I got to the clubhouse earlier. Feeling good about the information Jasper was able to dig up, and high on the pep talk I received from the girls last night, I thought I was ready for this. For sex. My body sure seems to be on board.
The heat in Ouray’s eyes, knowing that’s for me, is cranking up the anticipation. But it’s also making me afraid I may not live up to expectations. What if I freak out and can’t go through with it? I like Ouray. Okay, I really like him—he makes me feel worthwhile—but what if this is a disaster? I not only risk derailing the investigation, but losing him as well.
“You need to get out of your head,” he says over his shoulder, as we pull up to his house. Shutting down the engine, he turns in his seat. “You’re thinking too much. We’re on a bike, I’m gonna be in control, but in bed? Sprite, you’re in the driver’s seat until you get comfortable there.”
Straightening my shoulders and taking off my helmet, I give him a little nod. “All right.”
“Want something to drink?” he asks when we walk in. “I think I need some coffee.”
“Just water is fine.”
I follow him into the kitchen, where he fills me a glass of water, and I gulp half of it down. Then he turns away to make himself a coffee, giving me a moment to steel myself and come to a decision.
It’s the rustle of my shirt, as I pull it over my head, that has him turn around. His eyes narrow and lips press together when I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra, dropping it to the floor as well. I notice his hands, grabbing onto the counter behind him, knuckles white, but he doesn’t move. I kick off my Keds, undo my pants, and push them down my hips, taking my underwear along with them.
Panic hits me when he closes his eyes, but then he takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring, before opening them back up, his eyelids heavy. I can feel it on my skin as he takes in every inch of my body, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
“Killing me, Luna,” he grunts. “Make the call.”
“Bedroom,” I whisper, my voice all but gone.
“Go on, upstairs, second on the right. I need a minute.”
I start walking slowly, aware of his intense gaze following my every move, until I hit the first step, bolting upstairs and out of sight. My heart pounding almost painfully in my chest.
It’s a big room with an equally big bed, unmade, and a shiver runs down my spine when I imagine Ouray tangled in the covers. There’s a single dresser with a large flatscreen TV hanging on the wall above and two sturdy looking nightstands beside the bed, but little else in terms of furniture. Just the straight-back chair in the corner, a plastic laundry basket with haphazardly folded clothing on top.
I freeze when I hear his heavy footsteps come up the stairs, but instead of entering the bedroom, I hear them walk in what I assume is the bathroom next door. The sound of a shower confirms it. I’m not clear on why he’s taking a shower now, but I’m pretty sure it’s not because he didn’t like what he saw. It was all in his eyes: even I recognize that kind of hunger.
The window overlooks the lake below and I take a step closer to take in the view. Not that I actually see anything, all my senses are focused on the man taking a shower in the next room.
It’s probably just a minute or two—although it feels like a lot longer—until I hear the water turn off. I have my back to the room when moments later I hear the connecting door open.
“Beautiful,” he mumbles, as I hear the rustling of sheets on the bed.
He’s the one who’s beautiful, lying back on his bed, one arm folded behind his head, his body unapologetically naked. I know my eyes are greedy, taking in my fill of him, until they focus on the heavily veined cock, resting hard and unyielding against his stomach.
“Ain’t gonna bite you,” he says when he notices me staring, his voice hoarse. “Doin’ my best to keep my hands to myself until you tell me different, but fuck, baby…I might blow even with nothing but your eyes on me.”
The idea I might hold that kind of power is what emboldens me, as I step closer to the bed—to him.
I climb on the mattress and touch my fingers to his skin, surprised to find it almost hot to the touch. His muscles ripple with every stroke of my hand.
“Luna…”
His voice is like a plea when I trail my fingers through his chest hair. Tracing his happy trail down, I lightly brush the tip of his angry-looking cock before sliding my palm down his length. Hot silk over hard steel.
The last dick I remember touching barely filled my palm. The Nebraska boy it belonged to looked promising enough with his wide shoulders and large hands, but it wasn’t much.
My hand wraps around Ouray’s girth—much more in measure with the man—and squeeze lightly, sliding it down to the root. He hisses sharply and my eyes shoot up to his face, immediately letting go.
“Did I hurt you?”
He barks out a strangled laugh. “Fuck no, but that doesn’t mean I ain’t in pain, darlin’. I need to touch you so bad.” I scrutinize his face and see nothing that makes me anxious. “You want me to stop, I stop, I swear.”
I feel surprisingly unselfconscious as I lay down beside him, my arms straight along my body. He rolls on his side, propping his head with his hand. With the other he brushes the hair from my face, before running an index finger along my nose, tracing my lips and down my neck.
“You good?”
“Mmm.”
Ouray
The moment my mouth closes over her nipple, her back arcs off the mattress.
Jesus, she’s responsive.
I got a taste of the real Luna, uninhibited, when I made her come sitting on my face, but I didn’t fully appreciate the gift then. I fucking do now. She moans low in her throat when I suck her deep. She’s primed, I can smell her arousal as her limbs move restlessly over the sheets.
“Touch yourself, honey,” I mumble around her pert little tit. She doesn’t hesitate, opening her legs and letting her knees fall open as she slips a hand between.
I lift my head and find the heat of her mouth with mine, while I run gentle fingers down her arm. I trace it down to where her hand is working between her legs. Instead of freezing, she moans down my throat as I entwine my fingers with hers, sliding into her silky heat. This time she lifts her hips when I find her opening and slip a digit inside. It doesn’t take long for her to raise her butt off the mattress, chasing my touch.
“So close…” she moans when I lift my mouth, so I can see her when I add a second finger. Almost instantly her mouth falls open, her head tilts back, neck stretched, and I feel her muscles tighten around me as she comes on a deep guttural groan.
Rolling on my back, I pull her still shaking body on top of mine, stroking a firm hand over her back while she recovers. It doesn’t take long before she lifts her head, looks at me with a smile on her face, and pushes up into a sitting position, a leg on each side of my hips.
“I want to feel you inside me.”
Her words undo whatever little gain I’ve made getting both my heart rate and my cock back under control. “Maybe we should—” I barely get a word out before she presses her fingers to my mouth, leaning forward a little so her curls brush my face.
“Please.”
“You take the lead—it’s all yours—but Sprite, I can’t guarantee I’ll last without taking the reins.” I reach over and grab the condom I tossed there, covering myself quickly.
“Help me.”
She lifts her hips slightly so I can fist my dick and brush the tip along her flushed folds until I’m braced at her entrance. Raising my eyes to hers, I hang on to that connection as she slowly lowers herself. The moment her ass hits my thighs, I blow out the breath I’ve been holding. “You okay?”
“Mmm, full.”
“I fucking hope so,” I mumble, and I can feel her resulting laugh ripple over every inch of my body. Grabbing her hips, I still her movement. “Baby, I’m barely hanging on here.”
Clearly enjoying her power, but still with a hint of wonder in her eyes, she starts riding me. I swear I’m breaking a few molars grinding my teeth, but when she throws her head back, her hand reaching down to feel our connection, I’m done.
Planting a foot in the mattress, I flip us, brace myself on both arms so I don’t crush her, and take over.
Blood is roaring in my ears as I drive inside her, never removing my eyes from her face as she digs her nails into my ass. Not even when she uses her other hand to rub at her clit and comes loudly, her muscles milking my cock. Or too short a time later when I can’t hold back, and clench my ass as I power balls deep and see stars with the force of my release.
