Hot Pursuit Page 8

  “You shouldn’t worry about that,” I tell her and she frowns at me. “Okay, I’ll find out where he is and we’ll go visit him when you’re ready so you can see for yourself.”

  I give her quick kiss and realize I shouldn’t have said that ’cause I haven’t checked on Prince at all. For all I know he could still be in intensive care.

  I find Prince’s room number and wait for Sally to come out.

  When she does, she says, “See, it didn’t take too long, I told you I was fine.”

  I ignore her comment and look at the nurse who doesn’t answer my silent request for confirmation but looks at Sally. Only after Sally nods at her does she tell me, “She’s just a bit dehydrated and sore from sleeping on concrete steps. Nothing water and some TLC won’t cure.”

  “Thanks Patricia,” Sally says.

  “Anytime Sally,” the nurse answers walking away.

  “Wanna go and see Prince before I take you home?” I ask Sally.

  “You bet,” she says.

  As we ride the elevator up to Prince’s room, I ask, “How did you know what to do with Prince’s guts?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugs with a perplexed expression. “Watching TV series I guess. Common sense? You know, I figured it could only help if I protected the opening so stuff wouldn’t get in or out…”

  “When they wheeled him out they said you probably saved his life.”

  “Really?” Watching her so happy, I know I want to have a little girl some day, one just like her, one who will look at me with the same pride in her eyes. Shit, where did that come from?

  We knock on the door lightly and, without hearing any answer, Sally doesn’t knock again but pushes the door silently. Good thinking, we want to check on him but not wake him up if he’s resting. But he’s awake.

  “Hey, bro,” I say, “How are you doing?”

  I realize it’s a perfectly stupid question to ask someone in a hospital bed coming out of surgery, but it just popped out of my mouth for lack of a better thing to say.

  Sally stands by the edge of his bed.

  “You scared the hell out of me,” she says taking his hand in hers.

  “Sorry about that, Babe,” his voice is raspy and his eyes weird.

  “Are you high?” Sally asks tilting her head to read the label on the IV bag hooked to his arm.

  Prince grins. “Yeah, don’t know what the nurse put in the tube a couple of minutes ago but let me tell you, it’s good. I feel noooo pain.”

  The way he speaks makes me laugh. Here’s a man who prides himself on total self-control and he’s high as a kite.

  The door bangs behind us and Juliya rushes in. She’s all flushed as if she’s been running and she lights up when she sees Sally.

  “I drove straight to the hospital when Ice told me you they were taking you here. I had to see for myself that you were fine and then I couldn’t find you in the E.R. and a nurse told me you were going here and …” Juliya stops as she catches a glimpse of Prince when Sally moves in her direction to hug her. “Oh no! What happened to you?” she asks pushing Sally away and coming close to the bed.

  But Prince doesn’t answer, it looks as if he has dozed off.

  “He was shot,” Sally says, putting a comforting arm around Juliya’s shoulders. “One in the arm and one in the belly.”

  Juliya stands closer to the head of the bed and puts a hand to Prince’s cheek. The gesture is tender, almost loving.

  “It’s so strange to see him like this,” she whispers. “Defenseless, vulnerable…”

  “You’re right,” Sally answers catching my hand. “We see them as giants but they’re just humans.”

  We wait a few minutes, the girls whispering, but Prince seems to be out for the night.

  “I’ll take you home,” I say to Sally. “You need some rest.”

  “Are you coming with us?” Sally asks Juliya.

  “No, I think I’ll wait a little longer to see if he wakes up,” Juliya answers. “It never happened to me but I think I would hate waking up alone in a hospital room.”

  I want to warn her that he’ll probably wake up when the pain killer wears off and that he’ll probably be the meanest bastard on the planet but then, maybe she has a point, it will do him good to have someone next to him when he does come around.

  “Her falling for Dmitry,” Sally asks in the elevator, “it’s not a good idea, right?”

  I shake my head. Not a good idea at all whichever way the wind blows. If he stays it will be a mess. The best thing that could happen is him joining a far away chapter or maybe becoming a nomad and touring out through the country. Chances of him doing that in the near future with an abdomen injury are slim.

  “Do you feel up to riding behind me or should I call you a taxi?” I ask.

  “I’ll ride with you,” she says hugging me. “Just stay clear of the bumps.”

  I take it slow during the ride. I slow down even more when I realize there’s going to be an awkward moment when we arrive. Her set of keys is evidence in the Michael Mayfield death investigation and the only way to get into her place is using my set, which I never told her I made.

  But then I worry for nothing because when we get to her building, she doesn’t think about the logistics of the keys. There’s still some yellow crime scene tape attached to a palm tree and flying in the breeze. I park the bike in a visitor’s place as far as possible from it but Sally’s noticed it.

  Getting down from the bike, she stares in its direction as if mesmerized and asks, “What happened?”

  I stand behind her and wrap my arms around her waist and wonder how much I need to tell her. Thinking out loud she says, “He kept my keys and my driver’s license.”

  My girl’s smart, she’s figured it out, “So he came to hide in my place?”

  I turn her around and look in her beautiful brown eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I play down the invasion of her privacy.

  “He didn’t stay long enough to do anything but eat one your frozen meals.”

  She laughs and says, “That’s fine with me, the one left in the freezer was the yuckiest, I was about to throw it out anyway.”

  “He couldn’t do anything right on that day,” I observe, almost feeling sorry for the bastard.

  “Right, not even find himself a decent last meal!” I chuckle, discovering that Sally has a very dark sense of humor. “You killed him didn’t you?”

  “David and I,” I admit. “He had a chance to give himself up but he didn’t want it.”

  “Figures. What happened to Zach must have scared him.”

  “Being a cop and a white supremacist, he would probably have been isolated,” I say. “But enough about him. Let me take care of you now and tuck you in.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sally

  It’s so strange seeing Slider in my place. He’s given me a lift home many times, walked me to my door even, but made a point of never coming in. But that was before. Now everything has changed. Hey, he even came in while I was away.

  I walk around the studio and—except for a dirty dish in the sink—everything seems the same as when I left … was it only two days ago? I turn around and look at Slider who’s leaning against my door as if uncertain about what to do with himself.

  I walk to him and say, “I need to take a shower, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”

  I push his cut away from his shoulders and doing so reveal a holster. It’s not the first time I see him with one but this time is different, there’s a badge attached.

  My jaw drops and I take a step back. Even though I already know the answer, I need to ask, “You’re a cop?”

  Slider catches me by the belt straps of my jeans, preventing me from moving farther away and says, “Yes, I was but to tell you the truth, I’ve been undercover for so long I’m not sure what I am anymore. Two days ago I was going to quit….” He pulls me to him and nuzzles my neck, “… and then that rat kidnapped you and I decided to kee
p my badge so I could shoot him down, no questions asked.”

  “And now that you did?” I pray he doesn’t hear the fear in my voice. I know the way it works. Cops stick together just like the bikers do. It’s them against the rest of the world. So if he’s a cop and if my brother ever catches up with me, I know who he’ll side with.

  “Now, I want to find a way to quit the force without getting myself killed by the Knights and I think I may have found a way,” he says. “But that’s for tomorrow. Tonight is only about the two of us.”

  He kisses me and I want to believe he’s now more a biker than a cop and that it will be alright. And then I forget how to think, I forget how to breathe and the only thing I want is for him to hold me and make love to me.

  Slowly he undresses me, kissing me while gently leading me to the bathroom. He plays with the antique faucets searching for the right temperature while I finish removing my clothes. He turns around and says, “From now on, all this will be for my eyes only.”

  I love the possessive look in his eyes and the way his fingers trail on my spine as he helps me climb into my bathtub.

  He pulls the shower curtain behind me when I enter the stream of hot water. I tell myself that the steam will wash away the memories of the past two days. I will forget my fingers soaked in Prince’s blood as I tried to help him, the feeling of the blade on my neck when blood was trickling down my throat, my fear of dying alone of thirst in that garage, and, worst of all, my terror at the idea that Slider could side with my brother.

  I lather the shampoo and then lay my two hands flat against the tiles while the water rinses my hair and rolls down my back. Slider climbs in the tub behinds me and his hands massages my shoulder. The lavender smell of my soap fills the air. His delicious hands travel from my shoulders down my back and farther, all the way to my feet. More soap and his arms reach around me to repeat the same process on the rest of my body. His hands linger on my neck, light as feathers on the cuts. Another stop around my breasts, his pressure not as light but so amazing that I arch against him. I try to turn around but he doesn’t let me and continues to knead my flesh. It’s fabulous and it’s torture.

  He slides one knee between my legs, forcing me to a wider stance and comes closer. I can feel his erection pressing against my lower back.

  “Slider, please,” I whisper arching against him again.

  “Yes baby,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to take good care of you but I’ve been waiting for a long time to do this and there will be no hurrying me.”

  A pleading moan escapes me as his hands abandon my breasts to lather my arms and then my sides with soap. He lowers himself behind me and works on the front of my legs and then the inside of my thighs, one hand on each side massaging up and down and never quite reaching the place where I want them to rest.

  “I will take my own sweet time and savor every single bite of you before I let myself go,” he says catching my hips and making me turn around to face him.

  He’s resting on his knees in the water which could soon overfill the tub and he leans forward to kiss me. His mouth lands right under my belly button and I stand on the tip of my toes to raise my body. My effort makes him chuckle with delight. With tiny love bites, his mouth does travel south in the direction of his fingers, which have become more adventurous, and I hold my breath waiting for a more direct touch.

  I want him so much I think I could scream. My hands reach out to find support and my fingers slide in his hair just when an inquisitive tongue slides between by needy folds.

  I’m burning up. I’m shivering. I’m in hell and in heaven. I call out his name and his fingers invade me. A second later I explode and my knees buckle.

  Slider catches me and helps me out of the tub. He’s prepared towels and wraps a small one around my head and a larger around my body. Once he’s shut off the water, he pats me dry. I feel like a rag doll. Totally, utterly spent. He leads me back out of the bathroom to my open bed.

  The curtains are pulled and the only source of light is the small lamp on my nightstand. The room is foggy with the steam that escaped from the bathroom. It gives him a magical glow.

  The man is so handsome that it takes my breath away to see him standing in front of me with such passion in his eyes. I love everything about him, even the horrible scars on his legs. I take his face in my hands and caress his lips with mine. I brush my cheek on his stubble. He hasn’t shaved in two days and I love this raspy feeling against my skin.

  One hand on his nape, I pull him down on the bed with me. I want to tell him I love him but I don’t. I’m afraid to scare him away. I don’t even know his name, his real name. How absurd is it to be crazy about a man whose name I don’t even know?

  I roll over onto him and straddle him. He rests on his elbows watching me through hooded eyes as I drop kisses from his navel to the bulbous head of his penis. I tease the crown with the tip of my tongue and then look up to him as I lave over the head. His hips shoot up and I take him in my mouth. I work on the length, feeling the vein pulsing and enjoying the variation of the sounds that escape him when I press a little harder. Soon, I think he’s close and maybe he is because he pulls me away and flips me on my back.

  “I want to watch you get undone under me,” he says and just those words ignite my core again. I thought I was sated but I’m not. I want him inside of me now and I tell him wrapping my legs around him as I did on the day of Mimi’s wedding except this time there is no barrier of clothing between us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Slider

  I want to ravage her but I hold myself back and slide in her as slowly as I can. As far as I know she hasn’t been with anyone for more than two years. Fuck, that woman has been waiting for me for two years! For her sake I need to be gentle yet she doesn’t seem to want it slow and easy, her hips shoot up to meet mine. She’s all ready for me and feels as good as she tasted.

  I rest immobile in her warm wet sheath and look at her face. Her lids are closed and her lips slightly parted, her face is flushed and when her eyes shoot open I see lust and need and … love. Her eyes are like a mirror to my soul. Can she read what I feel in mine as well?

  My eyes in hers I pull myself out and buck back in, her eyes remain locked on mine while her head tilts backward, her entire body arching against me. Her breath is shallow and her eyes watery. Deep inside of her I wait. Her muscles contract around me. She’s almost where I want her. One more buck and I bring one hand in between our bodies in search of the bundle of nerves that will make her tumble. I tease it first and her needy moan fills me with joy.

  “Slider, please,” she screams and I oblige. I increase my pressure and then pump in and out of her until we both shatter. I come apart thinking this woman will be the end of me.

  Catching my breath, I rest in her keeping most of my weight on my elbows.

  She reaches out for my face with her hands. I love it when she does that. She pulls my mouth to hers and I kiss her. She tilts her head to let me deepen the kiss. I could get lost for hours exploring her lips and her mouth.

  In hindsight I wonder why I was an idiot and waited for so long. I bury my head in her neck and breathe the lavender perfume of her soap and something that’s just her.

  I kiss her again and when I do I feel myself twitch. The dry spell I went through has a good side effect, unless it’s just Sally. When I tilt my hips, making her aware of my recovered hardness, she moans in my mouth.

  I lift my head and smile at her.

  “Really?” she says with a dazed voice.

  “Yeah, this is what you do to me,” I tell her.

  “I’m not sure….” Another movement of my hips interrupts her sentence and whatever she was going to say is replaced by an “Ohhhhh” of delight, her mouth forming a pretty circle.

  “Yeah,” I say, feeling kind of cocky with her reaction. “I want to hear you scream one more time before I let you sleep.”

  “One condition,” she
says with a breezy voice.

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate anything,” I say to tease her, “but you can always ask since I aim to please.”

  “What’s your name?” she asks, almost shyly.

  Right, she only knows me as Slider.

  “Paul,” I tell her, “Paul Luck.”

  “Hello, Mister Luck,” she says before I lunge into her again.

  “What’s funny?” I ask, watching a smile spread on her lips.

  “Well your name makes me want to say silly things,” I can see she has a hard time remaining serious. Having my woman laugh while I’m making love to her is not making me happy.

  “Like what?” I ask, knowing that I shouldn’t but unable to help myself.

  She blushes and says, “Like, today was the first day I enjoyed being down on my Luck…”

  Now I’m laughing because she is funny.

  I shake my head and tell her, “As Luck would have it I think I’ve heard them all, so come on baby, do your best.”

  “I never thought I would say this, but I would be happy to have a chance to fall on hard Luck,” she says and bursts out laughing.

  “Okay that’s enough laughter for now, you need a few strokes of Luck to get your head back in the game,” I say and show her what I mean.

  The expression on her face shifts, her smile turning from joyful laughter to lusty bliss while I pound into her with passion.

  I watch with delight as her head trashes right and left on her pillow when she becomes undone and only then do I let myself go and roll over with her in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder.

  I kiss the top of her head and caress her back. Watching her fall asleep in my arms is one of the most delightful things I ever experienced in my life. She snuggles against me as if it was the most natural thing to do.

  I have yet to tell her that I love her, I hope that won’t freak her out.

  I pull the quilt over us and close my eyes as well.

  With her by my side I feel invincible.

  For us, I’ll find a way to dissolve the local chapter of the Knights, resign from the police and then maybe get myself hired by Ice. Yeah, I could do that, he said he needed hands at Friendly Persuasion.