Devil’s Game (Reapers MC #3)(57)
Author: Joanna Wylde

I loved it.

My body was a mess of lust and longing and desire, all trapped inside for way too long. I didn’t care that people were walking up and down the street not ten yards away. I could smell the trash from the Dumpster, I could see the strip of stars shining above us through the tops of the buildings, and it all just added to the intensity of the moment. I felt encapsulated, caught up in a moment that would last forever.

Objectively, we didn’t hold on for very long.

Hunter’s c**k dragged along my clit with every thrust, and he paused to grind himself against me in a way that pushed me right up to the edge of sanity. Then he pulled back and slammed into me again. I swear the tip of his c**k tried to push through my cervix, he went so deep.

That did it.

I cried as I blew up, clenching down on him deep inside while my fingernails tried to dig through the leather of his cut.

Holy shit . . .

Hunter grunted and thrust four more times, and then he came, too, cursing. I couldn’t believe nobody heard us or tried to see what we were doing. If they had, I wouldn’t have given a shit.

I’d done it.

I’ve finally done it, I realized with a thrill, tears rolling down my face. I didn’t even care that my back was raw, or that I’d be walking funny for a week. I didn’t regret any of it, not for an instant.

“Well, that was pretty good,” I said after a minute, sniffling.

Hunter grunted, lowering me to my feet.

“Glad it was adequate,” he said wryly, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose. I pulled away from him, straightening my skirt and digging for my panties. Now I felt weirdly embarrassed.

“Um, can you turn around and give me some privacy?” I asked.

Hunter just looked at me, a strange expression on his face.

“No.”

Well, that was direct. I decided getting out of the alley was more important than exploring our postcoital boundaries, so I pulled up my panties with as much dignity as I could under the circumstances. Hunter caught my hand, tugging me back into his body. His hand slid into my hair again, this time the fingers gentle, and he kissed my bruised lips softly.

“That was f**kin’ incredible, babe.”

“Yeah. I know,” I said, smirking through my still-watery eyes. I must’ve looked like a clown.

Hunter smacked my ass.

“Don’t get cocky on me yet,” he muttered. “I’m not finished with you.”

Unfortunately, he was finished, because that’s when everything fell to shit.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

HUNTER

Em’s phone blew up first.

We’d just reached the bike when the first call came through. She dug it out of her purse and frowned down at the number.

“It’s Dad,” she muttered. “I wonder if he has radar that tells him I just did something he’d hate?”

She sent the call to voice mail, laughing up at me like we shared a secret, which I guess we did. But then the cell went off again. This time it was Cookie.

“Shit,” Em swore. “Do you think he called her?”

“Answer,” I told her, feeling uncomfortable. Things had gone way too well this evening—we were due for disaster. She nodded and took the call, and I knew it was bad by the way she gasped and swayed. That was when my own phone went off. Burke.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“We got a serious problem,” he said. “Mason is dead.”

“Fuck,” I said, keeping a close eye on Em. She’d started pacing with short, jerky strides. “I didn’t realize we were quite so close to the end.”

“It wasn’t the cancer that got him,” Burke replied, his voice grim. “Someone shot him execution-style in his own bedroom. His old lady found him. She was out of the house when it happened, thank f**k.”

“He was alone?” I asked, startled. Mason shouldn’t have been alone, retirement plans or not.

“No,” Burke said. He paused, and my stomach sank, because nothing good happens after pauses like that one. “He had two brothers with him, Tucker and Dob. They think Tucker’s gonna pull through. Dob was DOA.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. I glanced over at Em, who was dialing frantically. Whatever was going on there, it wasn’t good, either. “What do you need from me?”

“Get back to the house and lock everything down,” he said. “We’ve got three more reports of shots fired at different clubhouses, although no more injuries. This wasn’t just a hit. This is a declaration of war.”

“War with who?”

“Reapers or cartel,” he said. Em seemed to be arguing with someone over the phone. So f**kin’ pretty, I’d take her again right on the spot If I could. Damn. I hoped to hell I wouldn’t have to face off against her dad. “We figure it out, we hit them back hard. Plan on coming down tomorrow like we talked about, but take extra precautions to stay safe.”

“Got it,” I said, hanging up the phone. Em was still talking.

“Dad, I don’t know where Kit is,” she said. “If I knew, I’d tell you. For f**k’s sake, I realize this isn’t a game. Keep trying to call her and I’ll do the same, sooner or later she’ll have to look at her phone. She wouldn’t make us worry on purpose, but she’s probably busy right now.”

She paused again, giving me a quick look.

“She’s busy having sex, Dad,” she muttered. “No, I’m going home right now. And don’t send someone to get me—I have a ride.”

She fell silent again, and my stomach churned. If the Reapers were behind this, wouldn’t they have gotten her safe before it went down? Picnic wouldn’t risk his girls, I decided. And I couldn’t see them pulling off something this big without him on board.

Had to be the cartel.

“I’m with someone,” Em was saying. “He can give me a ride. Honest, it’s safe. He’ll protect me.”

Her eyes met mine. Then she took a deep breath and answered the question I couldn’t hear but I could sure as shit guess at.

“I’m with Hunter, Dad,” she said. Fire didn’t explode out of the phone, which kind of surprised me. I did hear yelling, and then Em’s face tightened.

“Deal with it,” she snapped. “He’ll keep me safe and give me a ride. But only if you promise the guys at Cookie’s house won’t do anything to him. Otherwise I’ll go to a hotel . . . I’ll get myself safe, but I won’t tell you where I am. I won’t let you use me to find him or hurt him.”