Reckless: A Bad Boyz Anthology Page 7

  I left my room and headed towards the kitchen where the aroma of cinnamon invaded my senses. Damn! Was this dude the real deal or what?

  Lloyd was sitting at the bar, sipping coffee and a pan of freshly baked cinnamon rolls sat on top of the stove. A pitcher of orange juice had been set out, and there was a place setting across from him for me.

  “’Morning,” I said, walking over and rubbing my hand over his shoulders. He looked up and I let my fingers run through his neatly kept blonde hair. It felt like silk and I realize how golden he looked and how fucking turned on that made me. I leaned over, brushing my lips against his.

  “I’m not much of a morning person,” he said, turning back to his newspaper. “It takes me about an hour of me time to get into my groove.”

  I poured myself a cup of coffee from the carafe he had sitting on the bar. “Is that your polite way of telling me to keep my mouth shut until you’re finished with your me time?” I asked with a snarky laugh.

  “More or less,” he replied, turning the page. “I generally work on the New York Times Crossword Puzzle while I have my breakfast.”

  “Well now you let me know if you need any help with that,” I replied. I got up and pulled a couple of cinnamon rolls from the pan. I immediately bit into one and groaned. “Now these are good. Nothing out of a can, I can tell.”

  “You ready for our trek today to grab some cash?”

  Lloyd looked up from his crossword puzzle, and a flicker of irritation crossed his face.

  Yeah, fuck your me time, Lloyd. Luke has entered the building.

  “You weren’t serious about going on your bike?” he asked.

  “Sure I was. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how invigorating it is. The sun and wind hitting your face. I mean it does suck that New York requires riders to wear helmets, but once we’re out in the country, no one will fuck with us about that if we want to take them off.”

  “Luke, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself here. I have no inclination whatsoever to be what? Your bike bitch? I have a perfectly enclosed vehicle parked in the garage that I would be happy to use to transport you to your cash stash. The thought of my brain parts being plastered all over some country road doesn’t appeal to me.”

  “You want your big fat retainer, Counselor?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Because this is how you’re going to get it. I want you on that bike in back of me, Lloyd. I want your arms wrapped around my waist, and your crotch pushed up against my back. I want you to feel the seductive vibration between your legs and teasing your ass. Are you hard yet, Lloyd?”

  "I...uh...no. I most certainly am not." Fucking liar. Cocking my brow and smirking at his flagrant and completely unbelievable lie, I waited as he squirmed under my scrutiny.

  "Fine. Yes. I'm hard." I continued watching his every movement as he hastily closed up the newspaper and began putting things away. "I'll clean this up and then we'll go on that metal death-trap you call a vehicle and I'll pray to see another day."

  Damn, I loved getting my way.

  “Good. I love it when a plan comes to fruition. Now, I suggest you put something on that is conducive for a ride in the country. Blue jeans are preferable and a hoodie for sure or maybe a leather jacket? I’m betting you have one of those. Put some boots on too.”

  Lloyd grumbled something under his breath, but I suspected somewhere in that vast wardrobe of his, he would be able to put it together for our ride.

  We had just finished loading the dishwasher when his cell rang. “Ledbetter,” he answered briskly, “tell me you’ve got some good news.”

  There was a pause and by the looks of Lloyd’s demeanor, and the sharp intake of breath that followed, it didn’t look good.

  “That’s not good news, O’Conner. Fuck. When did this happen?”

  There was a longer pause this time. My stomach was starting to knot up, and anyone that knew me would know that I rarely get upset or uptight about stuff. But this was some major shit coming down on me, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how I had gotten marked for it.

  “Yeah, keep on it. We’ll be gone for a couple of hours, but under the radar for sure. I’ll be reachable by cell so you call me the second you get more information.” Lloyd ended the call and tossed his cell on the bar. He ran his hands through his hair and then gazed over at me.

  “Hope you’ve got a bundle in your stash, Luke. They pulled Senator Hastings' body parts from the East River this morning.”

  “What the hell?” I growled. “Body parts”

  “Yes. Three trash bags full of them. The county coroner has been called in along with forensic experts. Your hide just got hotter. There is now officially a warrant out for your arrest. We need to get that cash and get it now. The feds have won the turf war it seems.”

  Chapter 13

  I'M GOING TO die.

  That phrase was running through my mind in a never-ending loop. Each time, the voice in my head got squeakier until I was sure only dogs could hear it. With my ass vibrating from the two million horse power going straight up my spine and the road seeming too close to my head at every turn of the road, I figured not only I would die in the next few hours or minutes but it would be gruesome, at that. I was too hot to die like road-kill. A suicidal squirrel, I was not. And yet, there I was. Again, doing the exact opposite of what my brain was instructing me to do.

  Apparently, around Luke the Brute, my body was unable to follow simple directives, agreeing mindlessly to all of the criminal's demands, no matter their absurdity. Karma's big yellow bus would unexpectedly swerve across the two lanes and I would end up flying over Luke and landing head first through the back window. That would be my punishment for my sins against Larson fucking Blackburn.

  I don't want to die.

  "Relax, Lloyd. Enjoy the beauty of an open road." I heard Luke yell over his shoulder. Right, open road. Where the hell was his stop?

  "How much longer?" The noise of his Harley, Sports Rod or Hot Rod or Night Special, or something equally phallic sounding, was giving me a migraine. The only positive aspect of this whole charade was the heat of Luke's back against my chest. My crotch nuzzled tightly to his ass, the vibrations sending regular sparks of arousal through my entire nervous system. With our leather jackets separating any skin on skin, I figured it was probably wise to have that distance or else he would probably be careless enough to try to fuck me all the while keeping his eyes on the road.

  The man had an insatiable appetite and my ass was witness and victim to his intense stamina. I loved every single minute of it but, of course, I would never tell him that or I'd be condemned to his ever-present and all-too-knowing smirk for the duration of our working relationship. Well, I guess it was a fucking relationship, now too.

  "About fifteen minutes. I want to feel you relax or I'll add thirty minutes to the ride just to piss you off." I felt the rumbling of his back as he chuckled into the wind. Prick.

  Over his shoulder, I saw a tight curve coming up ahead and prayed to all the gods of every religion that the bike wouldn't slide on its side sending me over the precipice and into my unwanted death. But then I thought about his threat and figured I would never last an additional half hour of this torture.

  Thinking back to the one and only yoga class I had ever taken, I closed my eyes and forced my shoulders to relax, my mind to focus on the wind caressing my skin, my legs to hug the mass of muscle resting between my thighs. With arms wrapped tightly around Luke's waist, I let my body follow the movement of the bike as it smoothly followed the curve of the road, only slowing before the bend and accelerating as it entered the right curve. Instead of keeping my spine rigid, I let myself lean in as though our two bodies were simply one. Keeping my eyes closed, unable to anticipate the coming road, I felt better, more relaxed. I let my spirit wander, my mind take in the subtle sounds of the bike as the gears changed, the rpm's wavered as Luke expertly controlled his machine.

  Just like he controlled you, last night.
<
br />   "Fuck, Lloyd. I'm hard." His voice was muffled yet his words were crystal clear. Could he feel my erection from thinking about the night before? "The way you're leaning in and following my lead? It's a goddamn turn-on like never before. We're almost there, babe," he continued.

  Babe. Not even twenty-four hours and we were already using endearments? Who was this guy? I had to give him a shred of credit though for trying his best to appease my OCD minimum requirements. There hadn’t been one more incident of inadequate toilet seat maintenance since I’d had the talk with him. In fact, I was surprised when I checked his room to see that he’d actually halfway attempted to make up the guest bed. Granted, it was nowhere near acceptable -- seriously? I was taught that a taut bed is perfection. The ability to bounce a dime off of the bedspread was the way one could measure the exactness of the job.

  I needed to make a list. Pros and Cons about getting in deeper with this man. Or maybe I was jumping the gun. Hell, maybe he called everyone “babe.” That thought had me clenching my jaw, images of him fucking a long line of willing bottoms ran unwillingly at the forefront of my mind.

  Shaking my head, I cleared my head as the bike began to slow and then turned onto a barely recognizable road. "Road" being quite the complement for the state of the asphalt.

  "Hang tight, this may get a bit bumpy," he said with a chuckle.

  For the next five hours or maybe it was only minutes, I swore a good ass-fucking would leave me less sore than the ups and downs caused by what seemed to be tree roots that had invaded the broken path. Luke would have to massage my cheeks as soon as we got back to my place. That would be his punishment, I thought. When we stopped on the side of the road, I blinked and tried to understand why we were parking on the side, seeing as we were in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

  Luke glanced over his shoulder and nodded to the road in what I assumed was his way of asking me to get off the bike.

  My pleasure, mister.

  The sooner the better.

  With knees that still trembled from the recent vibrations, I tried to shake off the uncomfortable feel of ants crawling along my skin, all the while taking off the poor excuse for a helmet. We had argued over my unwillingness to ride without proper head gear. Let's face it, I wanted a fighting chance of surviving with my brain matter intact should gravity claim its hold on us and send us tumbling into the rolling asphalt. I tried, in vain, to ignore the mental image of what I believed would be my disheveled hair after forty minutes trapped inside an unforgiving metal contraption that looked like a rip-off from a World War II fanatic's collection. Nothing to protect the face from impact.

  But then I thought about Jax Teller and figured I couldn't look that bad. After all, I was just as handsome as the infamous, albeit fictional, biker.

  "I need you to look for a flat rock. About as large as a melon. Can you do that for me, babe?" Luke asked as he kicked out the lateral stand and tried to find a good place to lean the bike over. Turning my head left then right, I tried to find a place that would have rocks lying around.

  "I can try," I answered over my shoulder as I made my way toward a patch of trees with a pile of debris. There was no way in hell I would sift through all of the different types of rocks and limbs and wet leaves from the recent rains. Who knew what would be hiding underneath, ready to attack me, sting me or, God forbid, bite me. With my booted foot and orders from Luke, I kicked at a small pile and saw what I thought would be a good pick for my bossy escort. Satisfied that no insect or rodent would jump up and fatally wound me, I bent over to pick up the rock before returning to Luke.

  "This one to your liking, Sir?" I meant it to be snarky, a little bit bratty but as my gaze met Luke's. I saw the visible dilation of his pupils, the evident flare of his nostrils and unmistakable dart of the tip of his tongue, seductively wetting his lips. Arousal; the signs were all there.

  "Thanks," he muttered as he crouched to the side of the bike, all the while holding the handle so the bike wouldn't topple over. He slid the rock beneath the kickstand, testing the stability of his handy work. "That should be good for now. Can't have my baby falling over, can we?" He said as he rose to his full height and winked at me over his shoulder.

  Shrugging because, really, I knew nothing about bikes or the best way for them to stay upright in difficult road conditions. But one thing was certain, there was no way I was getting stuck out there in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

  Surprising me, Luke took my hand in his and with his free hand, he placed my helmet on the handlebar of his "baby" and led me through the woods. If I didn't know better, and honestly, I really didn't, I would have imagined a wicked witch waiting for us around the bend, ready to fatten us up and then boil us in an old-school caldron.

  "Relax, Lloyd. Get that stick out of your ass and enjoy the moment. Nature, it's a wondrous thing."

  Funny guy.

  "I'm fine. I just had a vision Hansel and Gretel."

  Luke's frown as he turned to look at me was priceless. Why I had told him what I was thinking was beyond me but apparently my mouth had no filter whatsoever when it came to this man.

  For the next few minutes, we walked in silence as Luke directed me over roots, branches and muddy puddles. About three feet in front of me, Luke stopped and turned with a grin. "We're here."

  I could feel the lines forming on my forehead, trying to decipher how we could be anywhere fit for stashing large amounts of money. Kicking away dead leaves and branches, Luke swept ten square feet of forest debris with his booted feet. To my amazement, below it all was a wooden trap door, blending perfectly with the colors of the earth. Latching on to a dirty rope in the shape of a hook, Luke lifted, his muscles working overtime, visibly coiling beneath the different layers of clothing. God, he was hot.

  Lifting the door, he unceremoniously threw it to the side and placed his hands over his hips with a proud grin on his face. "Welcome to one of my many cash stashes," he said tapping his right temple. "Good thing I've got a great memory. It helps in dire times like these."

  Indeed.

  "Stay here, I'll be right back. Once I get the money, we'll go somewhere nice and talk," he declared as he took what looked like handmade stairs that led to a big black hole of nothingness.

  "Should I be worried about whether you're coming back up?" I wanted my words to have a sarcastic bite to them but even I could hear the plausible fear tinting them. Realistically, I would be stuck out here at the mercy of wild animals and flesh-eating insects waiting and hoping for me to fall to the ground and become their next buffet. Yes, I decided, Luke needed to come back and get us the hell away from there.

  "Don't worry, City Boy, I'll be back in a jiffy and then I'll make you see stars," he said as he leaned over and whispered in my ear. "And not the ones in the sky." With a wink, the infuriating man sauntered down the most unstable steps in the history of stairs.

  "Good luck," was all I could think to say before he disappeared from sight. There I was, alone in the woods, imagining The Blair Witch Project during a Lloyd Ledbetter special production.

  Chapter 14

  I DESCENDED THE wobbly wooden ladder and hoped like hell no one had been here before me. With all the weird shit going on with my DNA, fingerprints and God knows what else having turned up in Senator Hastings' residence, I was starting to freak out. People stole identities all the time. Was it possible that someone had perfected that skill to include fingerprints and DNA? I didn’t want Lloyd to know how frazzled this latest shit had made me.

  I wouldn’t lose him as my attorney, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to lose his tight ass as my lover. I was here to stay for a while, and Lloyd needed to get used to me a little bit at a time. I knew he would though. Hell, his raging hard-on on the trip out here was enough to make me take a roundabout way so I could enjoy the feel of it against my ass.

  I pulled the small flashlight from my pocket and switched it on. The illumination quickly indicated that no one had been here since me.

  Tha
nk fuck.

  I took the three steps over to the pile of leaves and branches gathered in the corner. I kicked them all aside with my boots, and knelt down to lift the fake grating that hid the metal box buried two feet below it.

  I pulled the grate off, and dipped my hand down to grab the box. I pulled out the black leather pouch and unzipped it.

  It was all there. Fifty thousand big ones. Hopefully it would be enough to get me through this mess. I didn’t have any other stash pits in the area. This was going to find the answers.

  I climbed back up and Lloyd breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped in the sunlight.

  “Miss me?” I teased, giving him a sexy wink.

  “I’ve an aversion to small spaces. That stash pit is no bigger than…“

  “A grave plot?” I finished for him.

  “Precisely,” he replied, his hand rubbing his ass.

  “Circulation back?” I asked, quirking a brow.

  “Honestly, Luke, does your mind ever go anywhere else? You could be in some major hot water here. My recommendation is that we get down to business.”

  “I intend to get down to business, babe. And the first order of business is to get your retainer out of the way. I presume you have no objection to cash?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  I pulled the leather pouch out of my back pocket. “So, name your price, Lloyd.”

  “I’ll need twenty thousand as a retainer.”

  Lloyd seemed surprised when I didn’t bat an eye at the amount. I pulled the wad of bills out and counted out the twenty grand. “There you go. Got room for that wad in your britches?” I asked, chuckling at the look on Lloyd’s gorgeous face.

  “Don’t worry, Luke. I’ll make room. Now, we need to get back to the City. I just got a text from O’Conner. It was a Code Yellow.”

  Okay, like I was supposed to know what Code Yellow meant? Lloyd seemed to love blurting shit like that out to me in order for me to ask him to explain. It was a male superiority thing, and I’m pretty damn sure we both claimed top spot. “Okay, so want to clue me in on Code Yellow?”