Leather and Sand (Riding the Line Series) (23 page)

“You’re not going anywhere?” She sounded almost afraid to speak the words aloud.

“Not for a while, Rhiannon. We have a lot of things to work out. Don’t we?” He nudged her again, his rock hard cock prodding against her thigh. He was thankful when she giggled, breaking the intensity of the mood.

“But…what about your girlfriend?” That serious tone again.

“What’s with this girlfriend stuff, baby?”

“The girl—the one at your hotel. She said you invited her…supposedly you have plans with her tonight?”

He felt his eyes narrow. “What girl?”

“You know, the one staying across from your suite. The brunette.”

Dax shook his head. “Darlin,’ I didn’t invite any chick out here.” He pulled away from Rhiannon, even though it felt like ripping a bandage off a raw wound to do so. Dax pulled out his phone and sent a couple of texts to Wince. Who could that chick be?

“Well, she sure implied that you two were…er, close.”

Rhee’s cheeks were dusted with a light blush that he found endearing. In fact, for some reason, her possessiveness made Dax feel—wanted. “Jealous, stowaway?” he murmured, drawing her back into his arms. Warmth uncurled in his chest when she allowed the embrace instead of resisting him.

“Humph.”

“Rhiannon—I came here this evening because the only people I want to see right now are you—and Sirena.”

“Really?”

The disbelief in her voice made him feel like a total jackass. “Of course.”

“But—I thought you were mad at me…”

“Oh, I’m still pretty pissed at you, stowaway.”

There was a long pause. “Dax—I’m sorry for the way things happened…”

“You’ll make it up to me,” he said confidently. He let his heated gaze run from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, slowly, deliberately, letting out a knowing chuckle as she blushed.

His phone buzzed. Wince. Dax scanned the message.
Shit.

Dax looked apologetically from his phone to Rhiannon, but she stood up, looking a little too grateful for his liking. He scrolled down Wince’s message and felt a wave of irritation wash over him.
Fuck.
He glanced at the petite, curvy backside that was presented to him as Rhee poured two large glasses of juice. He noticed how her hand trembled, the stream of liquid splashing awkwardly into the cup. She turned, catching his eyes on her and turned a lovely shade of pink, the flush trailing down her neck beneath the material that concealed the rest of her gorgeous flesh from his hungry eyes.

Rhee held out a glass to him and he accepted it. As he drank down the sweet, cold concoction, he could feel her eyes on him, questioning his next move. Dax stood up and placed his glass on the counter. He ran his hand through his hair and cleared his throat. The sound carried in the small cottage.

“There’s an issue. I need to go back to the hotel.”

She nodded but her expression tightened. “Okay.”

Oh, the voice…so soft. So accepting. Dax felt his insides twist with longing.

“I’ll be back. Give me your phone.”

Rhiannon rifled through her tote bag and produced her phone. She stared at him with an odd, nostalgic look on her face as he programmed his number in.

“Text me with your number, okay?”

Rhiannon nodded, looking from him to her phone almost…wistfully.

“I’ll be back, Rhiannon. As soon as possible. I have some business here, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. It’s important. But, when it’s done, things will be better for me. For us. I’ll have more options.”

A mask had slipped over her face; her eyes gave nothing away. Dax closed the distance between them. He stood in front of her, waiting. He wanted to kiss her, brand her, rip that blue material from her and plunder the treasure he knew lay beneath it. It was agony—the waiting.
Later,
he promised his raging cock. Later, he would strip away the barriers that constrained them both. His phone buzzed again, but he did nothing but wait for her to say something—anything. After what seemed like an eternity, Rhee reached out and took his hand. He lifted it to his lips and brushed his mouth across her palm, fully intending to depart immediately after the brief but agonizing contact.

Dax wasn’t expecting her to launch herself into his arms. He caught her, surprised as she muttered, “I’m not going another second without this.”

The look in her eyes was sinful and determined as her gaze fixated on his mouth. Then, her warm lips pressed lightly against his, instantly setting his blood on fire. Dax felt a primal growl of need rumble in his chest and he turned the tables on her.
You don’t know who you’re playing with, little girl.
He yanked up Rhee’s skirt and threw one of her legs around his waist. He pressed her against the open door, fitting himself neatly between her thighs. Dax sent his tongue stroking inside her mouth. He nearly lost himself then, and if it weren’t for the repeated buzzing of his phone he would have ripped off the girl’s panties and seated himself inside of her right there, with the door wide open.

They broke apart, breathless and heaving. Rhee’s eyes were glassy as she stared at him, her mouth curved into a sensual smile. He ran his thumb down the side of her jaw then adjusted himself with a pained groan. No way in hell he was going to be able to ride this way. He pulled Rhiannon back into his embrace and allowed himself one more sweet taste of her mouth. Then he let his heated gaze slide over her taut nipples to the juncture of her thighs, where the material of her dress clung. She made no effort to pull it down, as though she was daring him to take her all the way to heaven and back. His damn phone buzzed again. Dax pushed his hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” He uttered the words to her, but he was asking himself the same question.

The sultry look in her eyes turned serious as her eyes flitted from Dax to his phone, and back. Then, Rhee straightened her dress and smoothed her hair. It looked like she had made a decision. “I’m fine. The club comes first, Dax. I understand that.”

Dax should have been relieved to hear her say those words. Spoken like a true old lady. But, Rhee’s eyes were shuttered and her posture was tense once more.

“I’ll be back.”

“I know.” Rhee lifted one delicate shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’ll see you when you’re done with your business.”

She made it so easy for him to leave. There was no nagging, cajoling, no blatant attempt to coerce him with her body, as other women used to do. So, it should have simple to separate himself, and handle club business, as he had always done. Why, then, did walking out that door feel so inherently wrong?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Vidal was beside himself with glee as he watched the playback of the evidence his two new guys had brought back. Jamison had a real Achilles heel…well actually, he had two of them—a kid and a woman he obviously wanted. It was almost too perfect. Plus, the girl was hot. Vidal could tell that she was a little firecracker, from the way she wrapped herself around her biker boyfriend.

Kestler, the shorter of his two goons, chuckled as Vidal watched the playback. “Man, I thought he was gonna fuck her right there on the porch.”

“Damn shame he didn’t. I woulda liked to see what his bitch has under her skirt. Nice piece of ass…”

As his hired help discussed Dax’s woman and her assets, a plan began to form in Vidal’s mind. He had been awake for two days and he was thinking clearer than he ever had. He could use the chick and maybe even the kid to gain some serious leverage against Jamison. Force him to reveal his supplier. Then, he would take the asshole out, and his pretty little woman too. Vidal licked his lips, picturing all of that reddish brown hair swirling around them as he fucked her. He’d make her moan all right. More than Jamison did. Vidal glanced at the two ex-cons he had hired. It might be fun to watch them fuck her too.

A slow grin erupted on Vidal’s face. The solution to all of his problems was crystal clear all of a sudden. He wanted a direct connection to the Russian supplier, and he knew just how to do it. He could pay off the debt he owed and still come out way ahead. Plus, an alliance with the Russians could only help him with the little problem that had developed with the Italians. Vidal rubbed his sweaty palms on his legs. He didn’t want to lose them. Or his hands.

“Boyle!”

“Boss?”

He loved having two surly criminals calling him boss. “Go get Jamison.”

“Boss?”

“Get the girl, too. Bring them both to the cannery.”

Yeah, the tuna cannery. It was perfect. No one would hear shit. Vidal was reminded of the time he was sent to the principal’s office in grade school for dissecting Ms. Wilson’s prized goldfish. It had squirmed and then frozen when he had pinned it down and stabbed his pocketknife into its gut and twisted. Just like Jamison would. Vidal shivered with arousal. He reached for his hard cock and began to stroke. He would gut Jamison like a little fish, while his woman watched. And then, just as Jamison entered his death throes, he would fuck the girl senseless. Then, he would choke the life out of her.

***

All Wince wanted was a cold beer and nap when he and Slade finally arrived back at the hotel. The last thing he expected to find was a damsel in distress in the hall. The girl looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her.

“I’m locked out, can I use your phone to call the concierge?” the girl purred. “I’m, um, a little undressed for the lobby.”

“Uh—” Damn, this chick was pretty foxy. Nice and round in all the right places. Wince’s eyes settled on her chest, which was generously displayed in a hot pink bikini top.

Nice.
Real nice.

“Pretty please?” she pouted, but the mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes was sexy and suggestive.

Wince swiped his key card and grandly gestured to his suite. “Absolutely, sweetheart. Let me charge it up for you first, I’m a little low on juice.”

She waltzed right in as if she owned the place, pausing at the well-stocked bar. “Got anything to drink, sugar?”

“Sure. Brandy and coke? Wine?”

“Got any vodka?”

“Have a seat.” Wince busied himself pouring some premium liquor over ice. His phone buzzed and he glanced at it. Dax. Asking about a chick. Wince looked sharply at the girl settled on the couch. She returned his gaze with a dazzling smile. Wince added another glass to the bar and doubled the amount of liquor in the shaker. Looked like he was going to need a drink as well. He took a long sip before turning and sauntering over to the couch. He waited until she was swallowing a mouthful of liquid before he spoke.

“So…what are you doing here, baby? Looking to bag yourself a
Phantom?
‘Cause there were plenty of guys back home in Darling.”

The girl spluttered, mortified. “I’m not a groupie!”

“Aren’t you?” Wince had a keen eye for stalkers, and the small tattoo peeking out where her sarong dipped low in the back confirmed his notion.
Phantom stalker, all the way.

“No! I mean, okay, look. I’m not really locked out. And I did come here to talk to Dax, but it’s not what you think.”

She looked far too guilty for Wince to believe her. “He won’t be happy to see you. We’ve got business here and you’re interfering with it.”

“That’s just it, Wince.”

He felt his eyebrows go up. Clearly, she knew them all pretty well. Wince feigned patience and took a sip of his drink, waiting for the mysterious dark-haired hottie to give him a reason not to kick her back out into the hall.

“I’ve got some information that impacts your crew—in a big way. And I’m not telling anyone about it but Dax.”

Wince knew that most of the groupies considered him to be Mr. Nice Guy, and for the most part, he was. But, he didn’t take kindly to being threatened or manipulated. Deliberately, he strode to the door and clicked the double lock into place. The sound bounced around the room. The woman had the decency to flush, her confident mask slipping briefly to give Wince a glimpse of worry.

“I think you might want to reconsider.” Wince drained the rest of his cocktail in one long gulp. “Because if you think for one second that Dax will appreciate some stalker wasting his time, or mine, you’ve got another thing coming, sweetheart.”

Two little spots of red danced on the stranger’s cheeks and her eyes flashed, communicating her fury. She rose indignantly, and crossed her arms over that nice rack.

“Finding out which one of your trusted inner circle is about to turn on his own club is hardly a waste of time.”

“That’s bullshit.” Wince advanced on the girl. That was a serious allegation—one that wouldn’t be taken lightly. He was about nose to nose with her now and he sized her up, noting that she stood her ground. This chick was either really fucking stupid, or just the opposite. While her looks and clothing gave her a definite groupie appearance, the calculated gleam in her eye told Wince that a clever mind lay beneath the attractive packaging.

“Nope. And I can prove it.”

“You can prove it to me first.”

With a demure smile and a slow shake of her head, she refused. Wince offered a grim smile as he pulled out his phone to contact Dax. He wasn’t about to play this chick’s games.

“Have a seat, then, baby.”

“It’s Alanna.”

“Sit, Alanna.” Wince barked. He was mildly surprised when she obeyed.

Dax didn’t reply to his text but Wince knew he had gone over to Rhiannon’s cottage after his meeting with Turtle. Dax had a candle the size of the statue of liberty burning for that girl. It was high time he admitted it. Plagued by the somewhat painful idea of the two of them together, Wince headed back to the minibar. Time for another round.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Horny and pissed off did not a happy Dax Jamison make. Whoever that little groupie was back at the hotel was going to be in some serious hot water for interrupting his time with his family.

Family.

The thought vibrated in his head. He had been shuffled through so many different homes as a child, but he had never really had a family. The club was his family. But, the crew was a surrogate for the real thing. Now, the real thing was within reach, and Dax realized that he didn’t want to give that up. He had no idea how to fit the pieces of his life together in a way that made sense, but he would figure it out. He would resolve the issues with Vidal, maybe even find a different carrier to transport the Russian guns, and settle down here for a while. Yeah, that made sense. He wouldn’t uproot Sirena, and Rhee would resist that for sure anyway. His mind was racing. Dax wasn’t paying attention as he tore down the street. His distraction proved to be a near-fatal mistake.