Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (12 page)

Inside her.

Outside her.

In her head, firmly planted.

He drove deep and pulled out slow. Caught in his hypnotic gaze, she heard her heart beat deep and loud. Somewhere in the middle of her body overheating, Jacko brought her pleasure until she found herself wound tight and fighting for release.

"Jacko?" She frantically grabbed him.

She cried his name again, unsure of what she was asking him to do. He was doing everything right. Too right.

"You're here," he said, pumping his hips in a steady up and down movement.

She nodded, pulling his hair and scratching him with her nails. "Yes."

"No, you're
here
." He groaned. "With me. Right here."

He went faster, harder, driving, reaching deep, caressing her roughly, hurriedly, greedily. Her orgasm swelled and hovered within her grasp. Her legs tightened around him. She pressed her fingers into his firm, hard skin, anchoring her to him.

Intense.

Hot.

Desperate.

He bucked wildly. Her body grasped the pleasure, and she whimpered. Jolts tingled her lower stomach into a massive quake before sending tantalizing sweet warmth throughout her limbs.

His hips rapidly thrust until he filled her deeply and held himself still, grinding against her. His eyelids half closed, he groaned out his release.

Jacko let some of his weight down on her and placed his face against her neck. She held perfectly still. Afraid to show the guilt over having sex with the man who had loved her sister and regrets that life was cruel to both of them had her suddenly unsure of every aspect of her life. Turmoil quickly stole the good feelings Jacko gave her, and she slowly let out her breath and stared at the ceiling.

"You're still here," he whispered against her skin. "And, I'm not going anyplace. You need to get that straight in your head because I won't put up with you pulling away, kicking me out of your bed, and telling me I can't be between your legs. However you feel you need to deal with what is happening, you deal and deal fast."

Her eyes burned. "You're not giving me a choice?"

He lifted his head and gazed down at her. There was nothing crazy about the way he held himself stiff and serious. "Do we ever have a choice?"

She opened her mouth to argue the point and changed her mind. Long ago, she'd learned the hard way that no matter how bad she wanted to change the circumstances, she had no choice but to adapt, accept, and keeping living another day.

C
am sat on his Harley in front of the motel holding the envelope Jacko gave him. Jacko jumped and grabbed hold of the low-hanging rafter supporting the roof over the walkway in front of the room. His weight pulled him down, stretching his spine.

He swung his boots, back and forth. "You'll need to deliver the money right away and stick around until the lady at the front office acknowledges my instructions. Make her repeat them. I can't risk leaving in the middle of the night for a while."

Cam slipped the package into his vest pocket. "Anything else?"

Jacko let go of the rafter and landed on both feet. "Tell her if there's any sign to call me."

"Right." Cam slipped on his gloves. "Since you're having me run the errand for you, and you know how I thought you should've made this decision years ago, I'm going to assume things with Amy have changed."

Cam's opinion on how he ran things meant shit to him and he'd never make the mistake of letting him know his words cut him to the core. He wasn't a man to second guess himself. When Cam ordered him on a job for the club, Jacko never doubted his president's plan. He expected the same respect back.

He nodded, and then laughed, grinning. "Yeah. Of course things are moving forward with Amy."

"Are you going to continue using her to draw out Los Li?" Cam toed his kickstand and balanced the bike.

Jacko glanced over at the motel room. "I told Bear and Johnson to get lost tomorrow night. I've already called Jeremy. He's going to hole out under the viaduct, and Stache agreed to take the River Road. That way if Los Li has their eyes on me, they'll notice the regulars will be gone. They'll know I'm alone with Amy."

"I don't have to ask if you've got yourself protected. You're always prepared," Cam muttered. "Call if you need help."

"Will do." Jacko grabbed his elbow and stretched his arm across his chest.

Cam rode out of the parking lot. Jacko walked a few yards until his president's taillight disappeared. Bear and Johnson slept off a night of drinking and Amy stayed inside to clean the motel room. He jumped in place. The whole conversation with Cam had his muscles tense. He needed to let off steam and settle down.

He never planned to change his life from living within Moroad, going after Reds and Los Li, and making sure money was his main focus for most of his adult life. He'd worked damn hard to create the right atmosphere and live life the way he wanted.

It took five years of battling solitary confinement every three months to only get out into the general population of the prison and do something else to gain another ninety days in a cell by himself where no one watched, except security. While locked up alone, he'd figured out he could turn his back on the cameras and hide his face.

Only when alone in solitary was he able to shed the mask he wore twenty-four/seven and internalize everything that had happened.

The list of those he needed to kill replayed in his head, over and over, until he almost believed he'd fucked himself up. Maybe he was crazy.

One—kill.

Two—kill.

Three—kill.

On and on, he'd counted down the list. Only Flores and Quijada remained, and he'd kill them soon. He'd planned every step.

In return for his lack of intelligence and his abnormal habits that marked him as crazy by the state, he'd set himself up for future arrests. Because of his lack of control and questionable mentality, the system was reluctant to keep him with the other guys. He rotated his shoulders and swayed. Any future jurors would hear the tales of him rocking side to side all night, barely sleeping, and the random observations he spouted to anyone close enough to hear.

Any judge would be hard pressed to give him the death penalty. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

The members of Moroad never questioned his position in the club anymore. Any job handed to him, he finished. He killed men where others balked. He stole as if he enjoyed taking the devil's fire. The more his MC brothers realized he'd lost his mind locked up in the pen, the easier it was to overhear information he could use later.

"Hey," Amy said behind him.

He whipped around and flinched in surprise, pretending she'd snuck up on him. She remained clueless that he was always paying attention. He'd heard the motel door click and her sneakers kick a pebble over the run-down asphalt before she even got close to him.

Amy tilted her head, her mouth relaxed, and her eyes warmed. She held a black garbage bag over one shoulder and cocked her hip to the side. He eyed her shorts and his chest tightened.

"Where's your jeans?" He wanted her to carry the pistol on her all the time, unless she was sleeping, and the way the shorts hung low on her hips, she had nowhere to hide a weapon.

"In the bag, along with the sheets off the bed and the towels from the bathroom. They stink, and what I'm wearing is the last of the clean clothes Katie gave me." She dropped the laundry at her feet. "Can we go into town and do the laundry?"

He eyed the bag. "You haven't worn the clothes long enough to get them dirty."

"I've sat around at least ten bonfires since moving into the motel. While I don't mind the smell of the great outdoors, I've had more beer spilled on me from one of the bikers walking by than I've ever drank and there's grass stains on the butt of every pair of shorts I own." She turned around. "See?"

Her ass barely filled out the shorts, but he'd had his hands all over her body and knew there was a nice, small butt underneath. Since she'd started living with him, she'd added some weight. He rubbed his forehead. Though she still needed to eat more.

She turned back around and caught him ogling her. "Washing my clothes in the sink only does so much. They need a good cleaning."

"You need more clothes."

"No, I need to use a washing machine." She stared at his mouth. "I can bring the clothes back with us and hang everything up to dry behind the motel if you don't want to wait around the Laundromat."

He owned two sets of clothes. Once a week or so, he ran the extra pair of jeans and T-shirt over to Christina at Cam's house to wash or dropped them off at Rail Point Bar and Desiree took care of it for him. A ten pack of socks and underwear saw him through ten days. He looked over at his Harley and back to the bag on the ground. He sure in the hell wasn't going to hoof it into town.

"Jacko?"

He motioned for her to follow him back to the motel room. Inside, he dumped the contents of his duffle bag on the bed and held out the empty canvas bag. "Put as much as you can in this. If not all of it fits, we'll have to make two trips."

She put the sheets, her panties, a bra, a pair of jeans, three shirts, three shorts, and four towels in the duffle. "Okay, I'm ready."

He picked up the bag and walked outside. Scanning the area, he went straight to his motorcycle, keeping Amy at his side. Two bungee cords later, he had the bag attached to the back of the seat.

During all that time, Johnson and Bear remained inside their rooms. He stepped over to Amy and hooked her neck. Her skin warmed his hand, and he brought her within an inch away from him.

"You stay right beside me in town. Pay attention and don't question me when I tell you to do something." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Understand?"

"Yes." She gazed at his goatee. "It'll be okay though, right? It's daytime and we'll be in town. There will probably be others at the Laundromat, too."

"Yeah." He tipped her chin. "Give me a kiss and then let's ride."

She rolled to the tips of her toes, and he dipped his knees, capturing her mouth. She opened for him, and he teased her with his tongue, tasting her again, and realized today was going to be a long fucking day if he had to spend it in town and not in bed getting more of what she willingly gave him last night.

He pulled away, licked his lips, and grinned. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Her smile grew.

Five minutes later, he stopped and backed his bike against the curb in front of the Laundromat, a block away from Silver Girls and two blocks from Rail Point Bar. He waited until Amy hopped off, and he pulled his leg over the seat. Grabbing the duffle, he walked her inside the small building.

One dryer ran unattended. The room empty of customers. He handed the duffle to Amy.

She stood beside him, looking up at him expectantly. He pulled the collar of his T-shirt away from his neck. It was fucking hot in here.

"Jacko?" She looked toward the door and lowered her voice. "I'll need money."

"What for?"

"The washing machines run on quarters." She took two steps and put the duffle on the closest machine. "It's a dollar twenty-five for each load, plus I need to buy soap."

He studied the room. Every single appliance had a money slot. There was a change machine against the back wall beside a vending machine full of small boxes. She had no need for money when there were plenty to go around. He wandered the row of washers.

He pushed the metal slot in and went to the next one, jiggling the silver box underneath the slot. The container rattled. He continued around the room, checking the dryers, opening the doors, and finally found what he was looking for.

A rolling cart with metal hangers. He removed one of the hangers and bent the hook around and around until he had a straight piece of metal. Then he glanced at the corners of the room near the ceiling. There were two cameras mounted. One aimed at the change machine and one to cover the whole room, plus the front door.

"Amy, come here." Jacko pinched the end of the hanger, making a tight loop.

She stopped beside him and frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He grabbed her arms and walked her backward, looked up at the camera, and moved her to the left. "Stay right there and don't move."

He went back to the change machine, hunkered down in front of it, and stuck the end of the hanger through the keyhole. After three tries, the metal door swung open.

He threw a grin back at Amy. Her pinched brows marred her features at realizing he forced her to cover his ass. She shook her head.

"What?" he said.

"You can't do that," she hissed in a whisper. "You're stealing from the cash machine."

"I'm taking the quarters, not the dollar bills. What kind of people charge you to wash your clothes?" He scooped up half of the coins, leaving some behind. "There. I didn't take them all. Are you happy?"

"No." She stood frozen in the same spot. "If you're going to steal, you can do the laundry. I don't want anything to do with breaking the law or you getting arrested again."

He laughed. "Who the hell would arrest me for taking ten dollars at the most from the machine?"

She crossed her arms.

He rolled his eyes. "All right. I'll do the laundry. Go sit, watch, and be amazed."

She marched over to the chairs, sat, and crossed her arms and legs. He laughed, amused by the pucker on her lips. Her flushed face only made him want to prove himself.

He put money into the vending machine, hovered his finger over the first button, and looked at Amy.

She shook her head.

He pointed at a different button and she stuck her nose in the air. He pushed in and removed the blue box from the dispenser. Feeling confident, he walked back to the duffle bag and opened the lid of the nearest washer. He dumped all the contents in.

Amy stepped up beside him and bumped her hip against him. "Move."

He stepped back and watched her dig out her clothes, leaving only the sheets and towels. There was plenty of room left to put everything in one load.

She held out her hand. "Money."