Satisfying Extortion (3 page)

“Oh! Ummm! Oh my! Um!” Eva shivered violently in his arms.

“Enjoy yourself,” Blaez whispered, nipping her ear. “Let us make you feel good.”

She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

“Why wait?” Marcus slammed inside her.

“Hmmmm.” Eva released a throaty moan. “Yes.”

“See there?” Marcus’s wicked laugh broke up the monotony of moans and other guttural vocal noises. He drew back and rammed her again, long thrusting her as Blaez screwed her little hole with short and quick beats.

“Nothing to worry about,” Marcus crooned.

“But there is!” She whimpered, her body already trembling between their much larger forms. “I’ll never last like this!”

“Who said anything about
lasting
?” Marcus chuckled again. “We’re just here for the good time, sweet thing.” He drew back and slammed inside her once more. “So let’s have a
fucking
party.”

“Yes. Oh yes!”

“That’s what we like to hear,” Blaez muttered, staring down at that perfect ass now riding up against his lower belly. He spread her cheeks and watched as he speared his cock between her rounded globes. “Hmm yeah. There we go.” His eyelids grew heavy as his own release gathered in his balls. “You just go ahead and come now. Let us hear you holler. Give us an outright scream!”

The next morning was hangover hell. Kurt relayed as much when his buddy Randon Shane texted him too soon before noon. A true friend wouldn’t have bothered a fellow mere hours after his big 3-0 celebration. After Kurt grumbled about the fact, he rolled over face-down in a fluffy pillow still smothered in cheap perfume.

The scents filling his crazy head were enough to remind him of the night before. He’d had some kind of evening going on before he passed the fuck out. He flipped to his back and reached between his legs, patting his soft cock.

“What a night,” he sang, realizing Eva must’ve worn him out if he wasn’t even sporting morning wood. Before he had time to try and remember what had gone down—other than Eva, that is—the phone rang.

“Blasted hell,” Kurt grumbled, taking the call. “I can’t imagine what’s so damned ass important that you felt the need to touch base before my buzz wears off.”

“How ya feeling?” Randon laughed. “Given your mood, I’m guessing the drunk faded to black a few hours ago.”

“I’m swell. How the hell are you?” He groaned. “Don’t answer that. You’re probably freshly fucked. Seems that’s all you and Pageant accomplish six days out of seven.”

“You sound jealous.”

“No, but I don’t like the play in your voice this bright autumn mornin’.”

“Huh. Wonder why that is? Let me guess. You kissed your days as a bachelor goodbye and you’re having a tough time with acceptance.”

“Why hell no.”

“Do you want me to remind you of a conversation you and I had after my thirtieth birthday?”

Kurt’s head was throbbing. He couldn’t think for the thrumming in his ears, much less try and remember something he’d said more than a year ago.

“Are you still with me?”

“Did you ignore the message I sent? Hangover
hell
, Randon.”

“We’re not as young as we used to be. Tying one on comes at a price.”

“As if you’d know. When you wake up each day, the only thing on your breath is—”

“Pageant,” Randon interrupted him before he said something off color.

“Hello, Pageant,” Kurt muttered, realizing he was probably on speakerphone.

“Good morning, Kurt,” she sang. “How was your birthday?”

“You missed a good party.”

“You’re the one who missed a great bash,” she informed him, laughter in her voice.

“We were there,” Randon said. “You were already in your room.”

“Shame I missed you.” Kurt repositioned the phone against his other ear. “My head is pounding.”

“Quit whining,” Randon said, his voice changing in an instant. “I called for a reason. Time to get your boots on, brother.
He’s back
and
he
struck again in Small Town USA.”

Kurt took a second to process. He held the phone out far enough to confirm the power was on and the seconds were clicking off one by one. Damn. He wasn’t dreaming.

Groaning, he rolled to the other side of the bed, planted his feet on the floor, and swung open the mini-fridge door long enough to grab a water bottle. After popping several aspirin and washing them down, he grated out, “Talk at me.”

“I’ve been trying to do just that for the last four hours,” Randon informed him. “This Eva gal must’ve kept you up half the night.”

“You know it,” Kurt said, not remembering a blame thing except that she had claimed to know Randon. Now, Randon was sort of implying he didn’t know her. Kurt debated mentioning the fact but decided he must’ve been playing it off for Pageant’s sake. After contemplating the Eva factor for a moment more, he decided it wasn’t important. “Give it to me. Everything you’ve got on the guy.”

“He cleared out a town.”

The “he” in question was well understood. The Bold and Free riders had been tailing a murderer for the last few years. They were tired of chasing shadows in the dark and showing up late to what small town reporters often dubbed as killing parties. They were chasing entities known as the extortionists, but as far as Kurt was concerned, they might as well have been tailing ghosts.

“You with me now?” Randon asked.

“About half, but I’m getting there. Go ahead. Talk
at
me.”

“Satisfying, South Carolina and it’s bad, man.”

“Isn’t it always?” Kurt hit the speaker option and scrolled through the texts he’d apparently missed over the last few hours. “Wait a minute.” He read the part about Bart Phillips’s ex-wife living in Satisfying. He couldn’t guess why, but he was suddenly desperate to remember what she looked like. Probably didn’t matter. Only, for some peculiar reason he had a strange feeling he’d dreamt about her the night before. “Do you remember anything about her?”

“Who’s that?” Randon asked.

“I’m reading your texts. You said Bart Phillips’s ex-wife lives there in Satisfying.”

“Yeah, so?”

Kurt cleared his throat. “Is this related?” He wasn’t about to dig for personal information on the former deputy’s ex. Most of the Bold and Free riders became hot topics after their thirtieth birthday. According to wolfen legends and proven facts, the pack members always mated within ninety days of the big 3-0, which was the primary reason the club threw huge parties when one of their own was days away from biting the bullet. Pack members within the MC considered the events their bachelor parties.

Randon’s voice changed in volume as he provided a few facts about Satisfying. He mentioned something about the town not having a stoplight and then rambled about the population, schools, curvy two-lane highways with terrible pavement and potholes big enough to swallow a few SUVs, not to mention Harleys.

Realizing he’d zoned out, Kurt cleared his throat and asked, “So it isn’t related?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, man. Why?”

“Yes, of course it’s related,” Randon snapped.

Randon meant the killings were all interlocked and would lead back to the extortionists. Kurt, on the other hand, remained stuck on the idea of Bart’s ex-wife living in the town where the killings had occurred.

Why he was still pondering a woman he couldn’t clearly remember remained to be seen.

“We’re on our way to Satisfying now,” Randon said. “We should be there in about two hours. How soon can you meet us?”

“Today?”

“Yes, today. You sound like an old woman squelching out her last vocal soprano performance.”

“I can still hit the high notes when it matters.” Kurt reflected on the night before. He vaguely remembered Eva removing her clothes. She possessed one smoking hot body. If any woman owned the ability to make a man purr and sing, Eva was one such gal.

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya,” Randon muttered. “Go practice singing in the shower and get a move on it, man. We’re gonna need some experience. Blaez and Marcus are already on their way.”

“Glad I could count on ‘em,” Kurt muttered. “Tell ‘em thanks for waiting on a friend.”

“They tried to wake you,” Pageant said.

“They should’ve tried harder.”

“Ask Bruns or Cal to ride with you,” Randon suggested.

“They can’t leave their old ladies right now and I wouldn’t ask them. Blaez should’ve waited.” He was the best damn tracker in the country and if anyone could scent out the extortionists, he could.

“You aren’t scared now, are you?”

“Where did ya come up with that?” Kurt yawned and it dragged on for a minute or more. “Damn.” He cleared his throat. “Eva must’ve overstayed her welcome last night.”

Silence.

“Are you still there?”

“No comment. You’ll catch enough hell from the club. From what I understand, you’ll probably hear all about it as soon as you see Blaez and Marcus.”

“What am I supposed to hear exactly?”

“Just remember it happens to the best of us. And look at it this way, most of the guys haven’t been able to enjoy another woman once their number is up, so who knows, you may meet your mate sooner than you think.”

“I can hardly wait,” Kurt mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“Mates are for pussies,” he said, thinking it must be true. He’d seen rough and tough bikers do one-eighties after they met their mates. “No offense, Pageant.”

“She’s already hit the store for snacks. We stopped here in Columbia for fuel.”

“Then I stand by my initial remark based on all former observations. Mated pack members are pussies.”

For now, he wouldn’t consider such a fate anyway. He had his thoughts on Eva and was hard as hell just thinking about her. He wished he could remember all the ways he’d enjoyed her. Maybe he’d give her a call and see if she wanted to come on over and kiss him goodbye. It was a long way to South Carolina and he’d like to have a few illicit images in his head before he hit the open highway.

“You’re thirty, Kurt. It’s time to grow up and think like a man.”

“Excuse me?” Now Kurt was pissed. “Just because you’re a lovesick pup doesn’t mean I’m a lesser man. Plus, for the record, I don’t and never have bought into all that wolfen legend shit.”

“Who was it who said ‘wolf proverbs don’t lie?’”

“Haven’t a clue.”

“Want me to jog your memory?”

“On a hangover? No thank you.” As much as he hated to admit it, Kurt was slightly concerned. Putting his birthday behind him wasn’t what troubled him. It was the extortionist’s timing. The last few times those damn things had reared their invisible heads, they’d hit the small towns where pack members later found their mates. Randon had stumbled upon Pageant within a few hours of arriving in Pleasant when they’d tracked the last extortionist.

“All I’m saying is stay alive and look prepared. Remember what happened to me.”

“It’s called coincidence. Pageant was working the case for crying out loud. That’s all it was—a coincidence.”

“Then for your sake—seeing as you’re hell bent on remaining single forever—I hope there isn’t a blue-eyed, blonde-haired cop with a banging body waiting for you in South Carolina.”

She didn’t have blonde hair or blue eyes. As for the banging body, Kurt couldn’t tell one way or another thanks to the baggy clothes she wore, but one specific thought gnawed at his gut as he walked toward the group standing near the local police station.

“It’s her,” he muttered, realizing no one was nearby to hear him. He stopped about fifteen paces or so before he reached them. He turned his face to the distant sea and scented the saltwater air. He loved running on the beach and if he were certain of time being on their side, he might have leapt into midair and taken his wolfen form.

A distance run would’ve cleared his head. Instead, he stood there observing her, watching as she placed some distance between herself and Bart. Apparently wise to his approach, she turned and watched him.

At that moment, he realized. He was cooked. Toasted.

Their gazes met and held and he quickly recalled the faded fantasies from the weeks past. He took in her high, gently sloping cheeks and her cute pug nose. Her protruding collarbone made him remember how he’d yearned to see her in his fantasies, how he’d dipped his gaze in his dreams only to have her vanish from his thoughts. She’d taunted him, haunted him in a way he simply couldn’t explain.

Now, here she was in the flesh.

She was different than he remembered. He’d been introduced to her a year or so ago and back then, she carried around a little extra weight. Her hair was much lighter, too. She’d also worn a lot of makeup, as if she were hiding from the world.

She was far more attractive without it.

Unless he’d become psychic within the last few days, there really wasn’t any sound explanation as to why he’d dreamt about her or why he immediately recognized her as Bart’s ex. He hadn’t known her name when he’d fantasized about her.