Page 13 of White Knuckles (Lost Kings MC 7)

  As if she can’t wait another second, she wraps her legs around my hips, undoing my towel with her feet and kicking it away. “Want my cock bad, huh?”

  The corners of her mouth twitch up. “Fuck me.”

  I press my dick against her pussy. She gasps as I push into her and reaches for me. “I’m here, baby,” I say, taking her hands.

  “Wyatt.”

  I pull back and thrust in deeper this time. Her body twists and arches to meet me. “Hold on to me, Trinity.”

  Her arms wrap around my neck and my hands grip her hips, holding her in place while my body strains to get as close to her as possible. We’re nowhere near finished. I pump into her faster, changing the angles up to give her the most pleasure. It’s beautiful when she finally lets go. Her eyes roll back. Her lips part. She stutters and makes little half-word noises. I slow my pace and drag it out for her. Pressing deep and steady.

  When she’s calmer, her eyes flutter open. She places her hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look into her eyes. All I see is the deep well of love she has. For me.

  My goal was to make her come, but now I’m the one coming apart.

  “I’ll be by your side no matter how dark our road may be,” she whispers.

  Burying my face against her neck, I kiss her shoulder. “You’re all the light I need, Trinity.”

  My head aches from exhaustion, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t sleep. My constant tossing and turning has to be waking Trin up, so after kissing her sleepy cheek, I slide out of bed, take one last look at my girl safely snuggled in her mess of blankets, then walk down to the living room.

  I shouldn’t be surprised to find the war room door open, but I am surprised to hear Rock and Z inside. I figured Rock would be at his house and Z would be…wherever Z is these days.

  “What’re you doin’ up?” Z asks as I push open the door.

  I give him my you’re-kidding stare. “How the hell am I supposed to sleep?”

  “Make up with Trin?” he asks. He’d given me shit as soon as he returned from dropping her off earlier. If I hadn’t been so consumed by everything else, I definitely would’ve kicked his ass, although secretly, I kind of liked the way he stuck up for Trinity.

  I’m complicated that way.

  “We’re fine,” I answer. “Thanks for your concern.”

  Rock’s eyes follow my movements as I pull out my chair and drop into it, but he’s silent. I take him in—he looks more beaten down than I feel. “What’s up, prez?”

  “I’m tryin—”

  I take note of the bottle of Scotch on the table. Doesn’t look like either of them have touched a drop yet. “I know you are.”

  He lifts his chin at the phone in front of him. “I spoke to Tony earlier. He’s got a contact in the Criminal Investigation Unit. Gonna get us some info on that Brand asshole.”

  “You think they’re gonna charge me?”

  “Hope didn’t like the arson investigator’s questions. I don’t want you blindsided by any bullshit.”

  “Thanks, brother.” I must have been more out of it than I realized. Although the guy’s attitude was annoying, I didn’t get the feeling he seriously suspected me. He seemed more focused on the body they’d found.

  The body that probably belonged to Twitch.

  Twitch. The kid I brought into the club.

  “Did he say when they thought they’d get an ID on the body?” Rock asks.

  “Couple days.”

  “They really seemed to think Twitch set the fire. It makes no sense. He was all about the club. Had no real family.”

  Z shakes his head. “You caught him breakin’ in there once before.”

  “Yeah, because he had nowhere else to go. It was like a game to him. Breaking in to places he shouldn’t be. Settin’ fire to my business? Killin’ himself in the process? I don’t see it.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you,” Rock says.

  Z shrugs and meets my eyes. “He could have been working with someone else. Money’s a powerful motivator when you don’t have any.”

  Murphy and Teller stop by a few minutes later. “What’re you doing here?” Rock asks, directing his question to Murphy.

  “Girls are asleep.” He barely glances at me as he rounds the table and drops into his chair.

  “You need anything, brother?” Teller asks as he takes his seat.

  “I don’t know.” I focus on Murphy who’s busy studying his hands. “What was Twitch like when you left last night?”

  He lifts his shoulders and still won’t meet my eyes. “Twitch was Twitch.”

  “You two get along?”

  “Yeah.”

  Rock sits forward, obviously concerned about Murphy’s mood. “He seem edgy? Or try to talk you into leaving early?”

  Finally, Murphy looks at me. “No. I left early all on my own. I’m so sorry, brother.”

  “Shit, Murphy. I ain’t blaming you.”

  “I should’ve stayed.”

  “From what I overheard,” Rock says, “it wouldn’t have mattered. The fire started early in the morning.”

  Z slaps Murphy’s arm. “Or you coulda been hurt. We don’t know if Twitch was working with someone.”

  “He wasn’t,” I insist.

  Murphy nods. “I liked giving him shit, but he worked hard. All he talked about was patching in to the club.” His mouth turns up into a smirk. “He thought you fuckin’ walked on water,” he says to me. “No way he torched your place.”

  We’re all staring at Murphy by the time he finishes his speech. He sits back, lacing his fingers together. “He didn’t do it.”

  “All right,” Z says. He taps the table to get everyone’s attention. “Who else?” He lifts his chin at me. “How’s your relationship with Whisper?”

  It takes a second for me to get my words in order. I don’t want to throw shade on Whisper with nothing to back it up. “I’m not sure. He’s always been laid back. Hands off. Collects his check. Signs off on whatever I want to do. It’s always been a way for him to wash some cash and bang hot chicks.”

  Z chuckles. “That ugly motherfucker would never get laid otherwise.”

  I flash a quick smile. “True. Lately, he’s been a pain in the ass though. Buggin’ me about every last fuckin’ nickel.” I shake my head trying to come up with something more specific. “He wasn’t okay with the expansion.” My gaze strays to Murphy. “Wasn’t thrilled about me bringing you in.”

  “He’s an asshole, for sure,” Rock says. “But burning down his own business is pretty extreme.”

  “Personality flaws aside,” Teller says, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table. “Whisper isn’t stupid. Even if he’s having cash flow issues, he knows as well as any of us an obvious arson won’t net him any insurance money.”

  “Fuuuck,” I mutter.

  Rock gives me a sympathetic look. “Even after we get you clear of the criminal investigation, you’re in for a hell of a fight with your insurance company.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, bro,” Z says. “But if they determine Twitch did it, you’re gonna have to distance yourself from him.”

  I nod to indicate I heard him, but that’s it. I already considered that earlier.

  “We’ll figure out a way to pay for his funeral and keep you out of it,” Rock assures me. He leans forward. “Now, what about the new guy?”

  “Sully? Jake’s brother? No way. He’s a straight arrow. Does self-defense training with the Sheriff’s department out in Johnson County.”

  “Got his own place,” Teller reminds me.

  “Yeah, but it’s far enough away. We’re not in competition with each other.”

  Rock picks up the bottle of Scotch and tips it into his glass, then passes the bottle to Z. He nudges the glass my way, but I shake my head. “I’m good.”

  Murphy stands and grabs a couple glasses from the cabinet, setting them down on the table with a thunk.

  “You even old enough to drink yet, bro

?” Z jokes.

  “Please.” Murphy snorts and snatches the bottle out of Z’s hand. “I feel about a hundred.”

  Rock chuckles into his glass. “Cry me a river, kid.”

  After a few sips of Scotch, Murphy leans back. “Ransom.”

  Teller nods. “He’s the only one who makes sense.”

  I’d been having that same thought all day. He’s the only person alive who has a reason to come at us so hard.

  We’re all silent as we let that sink in.

  “How was your trip?” Z asks.

  “Fine until this morning.”

  “Sorry, bro,” Murphy says.

  “What’d you guys do?” Teller asks.

  My lips curl into a smirk. “What do you think?” After a couple seconds, I drop the cocky attitude. “Looked at a couple of cabins for sale. Did some hiking—”

  “Wait,” Z throws up a hand to interrupt me. “Go back. Cabins?”

  “Don’t worry, we’re not moving away from our happy little compound. Just a vacation-weekend-type place. Think I’ll have to wait on that now.”

  “Hey.” Rock reaches over and pops me on the arm. “We’re all here. Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks. Oh, we did have one weird thing happen. Ran across a pot farm while we were on our hike.”

  Z’s eyes widen. “No shit?”

  “Like a big operation or some personal supply?” Teller asks.

  “We didn’t exactly stick around to take inventory. Looked like it operates as a Christmas tree farm.”

  Z nods slowly. “Good cover if they do surveillance.”

  “They had security cameras and fucking bear traps around the perimeter, so I think it’s more than just someone’s personal op.”

  “Tell Sparky,” Rock says, drumming his fingers on the table. “Let him check his weed-buddy network.”

  When he finishes laughing, Z glances over at me. “Give me the address, I’ll look into it. You ask Sparky to do it, he’ll forget by the time he gets back downstairs.”

  There’s a soft tapping at the door, and I lean back, wrapping my fingers around the knob and yanking it toward me. Hope’s on the other side wearing a LOKI sweatshirt, flannel pants and an uncertain expression.

  “Hey, baby doll,” Rock greets, waving her inside. “What are you doing over here?”

  “I woke up and you weren’t there.” She casts a glance at the five of us while rounding the table. “Figured you were over here.” She reaches over and touches my shoulder. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  Rock pulls her into his lap, and she gives him a quick kiss. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No,” we all answer almost at the same time.

  She chuckles and leans back against Rock.

  “Everything all right at the house?” Murphy asks.

  “Alexa was up.” She hesitates. “That’s why I—”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Hope.”

  “It’s fine. I wasn’t sleeping well anyway.”

  Murphy stands, pushing his chair in. “I’m gonna go help Heidi.” He meets my eyes. “Unless you need me?”

  “No. Go take care of your girls. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Teller lifts his chin Murphy’s way. “You need me?”

  “Nah.” Murphy taps his cheek. “She’s just teething. It’s been a rough week.”

  Teller sets his phone on the table. “You guys need something, let me know.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hope says after he leaves. “He didn’t have to go. That’s not why I came over.”

  Rock squeezes her closer. “No? Why’d you come over?”

  “To find you.” They nuzzle each other and generally behave as if they’ve been apart for days instead of a few hours. Z, Teller, and I entertain ourselves by rolling our eyes and making barf faces at each other.

  “Is Trinity up?” Hope asks after she and Rock finally calm the fuck down.

  “She wasn’t when I came down here.” I cock my head and wait for her to spit out whatever’s bothering her. “What’s wrong, Hope?”

  “Nothing. Are you meeting with the adjuster tomorrow?”

  “I’m supposed to, yeah. Why? You need to be there with me?”

  She sits forward, and all traces of lovey-dovey Hope vanish. “No. I think if you bring a lawyer it’s going to send the wrong signal. You might want to check with Glassman, though.”

  “Okay. Anything else?”

  “If it’s an attorney who wants to take your statement, I want you to call me right away. I’ll come down, or we’ll have Glassman get his overpriced ass down there.”

  I chuckle at her contempt for the club’s lawyer. “Will do.”

  “I’ve only worked on one arson case—and by work, I mean read through a bunch of dusty files—so it’s not really my area, but please be careful what you say to them. Cooperate without making unnecessary comments. Be civil.”

  “Yeah,” I answer slowly. “You do realize we’ve dealt with cops and shit before, right?”

  Pink stains her cheeks, but then she shakes her head. “I understand that. It’s just…I know it seems like the insurance company should be on your side. But they’re not. The adjuster’s job is to do whatever he can to give the insurance company a basis to deny your claim.”

  “If Empire’s investigator clears me, that should help though, right?”

  “Brand?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “What a dick,” she mutters, making all of us laugh. “It’s possible the insurance company will ask Brand to “assist” them,” she says complete with air quotes. “That way they can make their findings look more legitimate. I don’t know if Brand’s the type of guy to fall for that or not.”

  My impression is that Brand won’t take kindly to being manipulated, so I’m not overly worried.

  “You might want to think about hiring your own fire investigator now, while the scene is still fresh,” she advises.

  “All right.”

  “I’ll see if Tony can recommend someone,” Rock says. “You have enough going on with that and the wedding.”

  “Is the wedding still on?” Z asks.

  “Fuck, yeah it is.” There’s no room for argument in my tone, and Z puts his hands up.

  “Just checking.”

  Hope lets out a big yawn, and Rock catches my eye. “We’re gonna head back. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll be here. Doubt I’ll get much sleep.”

  I stumble into our room as the sunlight’s peeking through the edges of the blackout shades Trin keeps pulled down tight. Her blonde hair spread out over the pillows and the shape of her body are all I can make out. I slip into bed, trying not to jostle her too much. She rolls over anyway, tucking herself against my side.

  “Wyatt,” she mumbles.

  “I’m here, angel.”

  After a few minutes she turns over, and I pull her close, wrapping her up so tight, she wiggles in her sleep and adjusts the arm I slung over her ribs.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she answers. “Are you okay?”

  “Better now.” Can’t seem to feel a damn thing, but having Trinity next to me brings me back to life.

  I don’t know if she does it on purpose, but she stretches, bumping her ass into my groin. My hand slides up her side, reaching under the arm she tucked close to her chest to cup her breast. My thumb absently slides over the fabric covering her nipple until it hardens under my touch. “Are you okay?” I ask again. This time I whisper the words against her ear. “We had a pretty…intense couple days together. We were talking about some serious stuff. I’m sorry all of it got ruined.”

  “Wyatt,” she breathes out, her breath warm and soft against my arm. She struggles to turn her body, and I loosen my grip on her. When she’s facing me, she places her hand on my chest, her arm tucked between our bodies. “I still can’t believe it. Yesterday everything was so perfect. And now…” she trails off.

  I brush the hair off her face

. “I’ll make it perfect for you again, Trinity. I promise.” My hand cups her jaw, angling her face for a kiss.

  She gasps as our lips meet, one of her hands grips my arm, pulling me closer as if the few centimeters of space between us are too much.

  My cock hardens in an instant, and I groan loudly when she pushes her pelvis into me. I break the kiss, resting my forehead against hers.

  “What do you need?” she whispers.

  “Let me love you, Angel Face. That’s all I need right now.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Five days before the wedding…

  The club’s pretty solemn when I enter the war room for church a few hours later.

  Each of my brothers offers a nod or words of support. At one time or another, almost everyone in this room has helped out or worked at Furious. They’re all feeling the loss.

  “What do we know, prez?” Dex asks, getting down to business.

  “Gotta be Ransom. Gotta be tied to the shooting,” Murphy says, still committed to the same theory he floated last night.

  “We really think Ransom’s even alive?” Ravage asks. “Figured someone woulda put a bullet in his brain by now.”

  “They ID the body yet?” Teller asks.

  “Don’t know,” I answer. “But it’s gotta be Twitch. No one’s been able to reach him.”

  “Sparky, give us some good news,” Rock says.

  Our stoner brother’s usually animated and practically bouncing out of his chair when he’s asked to talk about his plants. Today, he’s wearing a kicked-puppy expression. He swings his bleary gaze my way. “Sorry about Furious, man.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You still having the wedding?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “No reason.”

  I remember how Sparky’d been worried the place we’d originally planned to get married at burning down was some sort of bad omen.

  Guess it doesn’t matter now.

  Finally, he perks up. “So, the plants we got from the Iron Bulls are still producing. I kept some totally pure, but as an experiment, I spliced them with a couple of our better strains, and the results are fucktastic.” He launches into a lengthy lecture about THC percentages, and even though I tune most of it out, it’s nice to be doing something normal.