RAGE: President & First Lady Of The Death Dealers MC (17 page)

***Gage***

“What’s the plan?” Razor asks as we park outside the
warehouse where Cassidy has her office.

“No plan. Just gonna talk to her. She’s a little psycho but
I don’t think it was her.” The whole point was to get me to fuck her so I doubt
she sent them to kill me. “They were probably just retaliating for the two we
killed.”

Her assistant gives me a come-fuck-me smile as we approach.
I remove my riding gloves and stick them in my pocket. She bats her lids and
smiles brightly before biting into her bottom lip.

“Mr. Hunter! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Miss Martin in?”

She fumbles at my apparent lack of interest and picks up her
phone. After talking to her boss, she motions to the door.

“Wait here,” I tell Razor.

I close the door behind me and take a long, hard look at a
very nervous Cassidy Martin.

“Gage… I swear, I haven’t said—”

I raise my hand to stop her then take a seat. “The guys you
hired… Where’d you find ’em?”

“A friend gave me a phone number. I called.”

“What friend?”

“I can’t—”

“What. Friend?”

She swallows hard and takes a shaky breath. “Please… I don’t
want to get her mixed up in this.”

“You still have the number?”

She looks down at her desk, avoiding my stare. That’s a very
obvious tell. I know her next words will be a lie.

“No. I… I threw it away.”

I can see she’s not going to give up the info willingly.
Maybe I’m approaching this the wrong way. I don’t think intimidation is going
to work with her, but I know what will. Luckily, I’m me. “You’re not lying to
me are you, Cassidy?”

Her gaze remains fixed on the desk. “No, of course not.”

“Stand up.”

Finally, she looks at me, excitement creeping into her eyes.
“Wh…what?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

She rises slowly, her eyes locked with mine. Her chest is
heaving, and I see the uncertainty in her gaze. She’s scared but turned on,
too. One thing I do remember about her is that she likes it rough and kinky. I
make my way over to her, taking my time. She watches me, her chest rising and
falling more rapidly with each step I take. I move her chair and stand behind
her, close but not touching.

“I think you’re lying to me, Cassidy. I think...you’re being
a bad girl.” Her body trembles before me and she lets out a moan. “Do you know
what happens to bad girls?”

“They get spanked,” she says on a hurried breath.

The fear is gone, replaced completely by enthusiasm.
Damn,
I’m good!
I slowly pull her little skirt up, exposing her cheeks. A thong.
Perfect. She’s wearing some sexy lingerie set, complete with garter belt and
stockings.

“Were you expecting someone? Or did you wear this for me?”

“I… I was hoping—”

“And the fuck-me heels?”

“Yes,” she whispers breathlessly.

She tries to lean into me, but I step away and perch on the
edge of her desk. I look her over from head to toe and realize I don’t want to
touch her. She’s gorgeous and I didn’t hesitate to fuck her before, but there’s
just no interest now. I find a wooden ruler on her desk and trail it lightly up
her thigh.

“Spread your legs.” She complies quickly, watching me with
her bottom lip between her teeth. I move behind her once more, sliding the
ruler up the inner sides of both thighs. “Wider.” I smack one of them and she
yelps, widening her stance. “Now, the men. Who were they?”

“I don’t know.” 

I slap her cheek and watch as the ruler leaves a red imprint
on her ass. Her body shakes as if she just came where she stands. I stroke the
spot with the ruler, still not wanting to touch her. She rolls her hips and I
smack her again, developing a pattern—slap, stroke, slap… and then change it up
so she never knows what’s coming next.

“Gage….”

“If I touch your pussy right now… will it be wet?” I ask,
even though I have no inclination to do so.

“Oh, God, yes!”

I chuckle, sliding the ruler over the crotch of her panties.
“Where’d you find those guys?”

“The number… my friend said she uses them for security all
the time.”

“Mm-hmm.” I concentrate the top edge of the ruler on her
clit and she moans. “Security… Are they from a company?”

She rolls her hips, grinding on the ruler. I strike her clit
twice.

“No! Not a company… just… just a group of friends.”

A group. My retaliation theory seems to be right. I stroke
her once more, gliding the ruler over the material covering her pussy. “Where’s
the number?”

She hesitates. I move closer so she thinks I’m going to
touch her. Instead, I slap both cheeks twice.

“Fuck, Gage....”

“The number?”

“It’s in my desk! Just please… please, fuck me!”

I give her one last smack on the ass. Hard. She jerks and
cries out. “Sit,” I tell her as I toss the ruler on the desk. She scrambles to
her chair and immediately reaches for my belt. “Uh-uh… hands in your lap.”

She smiles, licks her lips then bites into the bottom one.
She really thinks I’m going to let her suck my dick? No matter what she does,
it’s all lost on me. My dick isn’t even mildly interested. “Where is it?”

“Top drawer,” she says eagerly.

I search the drawer, find a white card with just a number on
it then show it to her.

“That’s it.” She nods.

I stick it in my pocket and wonder what I should do with
her. She’d probably do anything I tell her to. Bitch is hard-up for some dick,
so I’ll get her some. “Up.” She jumps to her feet and I stand behind her. She
wiggles her ass impatiently. “You want to get fucked, Cassidy?”

“God, yes!”

“You will be… just not by me.”

“What? Gage—”

“Don’t. Move.”

I stick my head through the door and wave Razor over, giving
him a peek inside.

“A gift for you, my brother.”

He looks to the heavens and bites his lip. “I ever tell you
I love you, brother?”

“Make it quick. I’ll wait for you outside.”

But not before I stop in the men’s room and wash my hands. I
suddenly feel very dirty. While waiting, my mind drifts to Raven. That shit she
pulled this morning had me coming like three times in the shower. Just feeling
her body tremble beneath me was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. And
waking up next to her? I wouldn’t mind doing that every day. Not at all.

Razor exits the building with a huge grin on his face.
“Thank you, my brother. That was a fine piece of ass.”

“Crazy as fuck, though.”

“I know. That’s why I’m seeing her later.” He grins as he
slips his aviators on.

“You’re a sick fuck, Razor.”

“Don’t I know it, Prez.”

You know in the movies where someone walks into a room, a
record scratches somewhere, and everyone stares at the newcomer? Think MJ
walking into the nightclub in the beginning of the “Smooth Criminal” video.
That’s exactly what happened. All I know is, one moment Chrissy and I are
playing pool, hanging out with some of the guys, and the next moment it’s dead
silent. I look up and everyone is staring at the door. I’m bent over the pool
table, so I straighten and turn around. I wish I hadn’t though, because I’m
staring into the blue eyes of Death himself. Gage stands there, shaking with
barely restrained rage, his eyes locked on me. He’s a volcano about to erupt. I
swallow hard.

“Where the
fuck
… are your clothes?” he shouts.

I swear his voice echoes through my entire body.
We’re
back to this?
What I’m wearing is perfectly fine—shorts and a bandeau.
Jeez, even Daddy wasn’t this anal. Before I can say anything, he storms up to
me and grabs my hand. Without stopping, he drags me behind him to his room,
pushing me inside and slamming the door behind him. I haven’t even regained my
balance before he grabs me again and forces me against the wall.

“What the hell, Gage?”

“Have you been drinking? Smoking?”

I roll my eyes. “No, Daddy.”

“I swear to God, woman. Don’t test me!”

“How?”

“You’re out there practically naked!”

“I am not!”

“You like that, huh? Being a fucking tease?” he asks,
getting into my face.

A tease?
“How dare you—”

I cringe as he slams his palm on the wall by my head and
closes his eyes, trying to rein in his anger.
Okay, I think it may be in my
best interest not to push him right now.

“Just cover up, Raven,” he says, his words coming through
clenched teeth.

“I don’t have anything else. This is all Chrissy brought.”

He pushes away from me and removes a T-shirt and sweat pants
from his chest of drawers.

“Put these on. I’d rather not have to kill any of my
brothers.”
Aah
…
now
I
get
it
. “For what? Looking at
me?”

He doesn’t answer, but I know that’s the problem. He’s
jealous… to the thousandth degree, but it’s kind of cute. I take his hand, pull
him to the bed, and push down on his shoulders. Sitting on his lap, I wrap my
arms around his neck.

“They’ve been really cool. A couple of them even pulled me
aside and told me I was a total badass for what I did last night.”

“You were…
are
.”

He slides his arm around my waist and takes a deep, calming
breath. I turn his face to mine and stare into his eyes. The rage is gone. I
don’t want to rekindle it, but shooting that guy last night has been on my mind
all day. Technically, I didn’t kill him, but it still weighs heavily on my
conscience.

“About last night—”

“I told you to leave it alone.”

“Gage, I’ve never shot anyone before.”

“And you haven’t killed anyone, either. It’s all on me.”

“Not all. I shot him
four
times.”

“It was them or us. I’m proud of you for how you handled
yourself.”

He’s proud of me for shooting someone. Not exactly what one
strives for in life but hey, I guess this is my life now. “I have Reaper’s
approval?”

“You always did.”

How does he do that? How does he make me forget why I’m
concerned, hurt, or angry? How does he replace all my thoughts with only ones
of him? I trail my finger down his stubbled jaw, the tiny hairs prickling me.
“You’ve been gone all day. I missed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I place a few soft kisses on his lips before he finally
gives in and takes over. He slowly works his lips over mine, teasing them with
his tongue. I moan into his mouth, slipping my tongue in. The taste of
peppermint hits me. Goosebumps pop up all over my body as he trails his fingers
down my spine. I slide my fingers through his hair, leaning into him, needing to
get as close as possible. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back, his gaze
roaming my face.

“
Change
.”

“God! I hope you never have daughters,” I say, rolling my
eyes.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

“How can you be so sure? Even you can’t command sons to be
born.”

He slides me off his lap and heads for the door. With his
hand on the knob, he turns to me, his expression stern.

“Because I’m not having children. Ever.”

That’s what he leaves me with. I stare at the door wondering
what I’ve gotten myself into. Christ, he’s bossy. And that thing about kids? I
would have never expected that. He’s so good with Mikey. Despite what I said, I
do believe he’d be a good father. A very strict one, but a good one
nonetheless.

Oh, well, it’s his choice. I definitely want kids someday.
Someday far, far away, though.

I change into the sweatpants, drop it on my hips, and tie
the strings to keep it in place. The T-shirt, I throw on over my bandeau and
tie a knot in the back. I just hope he doesn’t get mad over me showing my belly
button. I head back out, holding up the too-long legs of the pants. Chrissy’s
in a corner cuddled up with Ron and smoking a joint, so I seek out Gage. He
turns to me as I approach the bar where he’s sitting and drinking a beer.

“Better?” I ask, with a bit of attitude.

“Better.”

I wedge myself between his legs, lean against him, and drape
his arm over my shoulder. He curls it around me, pulling me closer as I settle
in and survey the room. These men are not at all what I thought they were.
Crow, Motor, and Tek are off in a corner sharing a joint. Crow is so-named
because he’s good at “clean-up.” You want to get rid of a body, he’s your man.
He’s a big dude, with a buzz cut and a jagged scar running down his cheek.
Motor, apparently, is an automotive wiz. He’s a little on the skinny side and
has shaggy, blond hair. Tek looks more Goth than biker, complete with the black
lipstick and eyeliner. He’s the club’s secretary and way better version of the
Geek Squad. I’ve been told he can hack his way into anything. 

Booker—that’s actually his real name—the prospect, is huge…
and I’m not talking about muscles. He’s like a three hundred pound, grown-up
version of Ham from
The
Sandlot
—red hair, freckles and all. He
and Ron don’t seem to have road names, but I’m sure that’s coming soon. Razor,
I haven’t spoken to yet but he scares me a little. He pulls a disposable razor
from his pocket and starts shaving. I guess that explains his name. Then
there’s Rico, the road captain. He’s from Honduras and thinks he’s some kind of
Rico
Suave
. I remember him hitting on me at the barbecue. He said
I called him an asshole, but he had called me a bitch so we both decided we
were even. He’s short and stocky with greasy, slicked-back hair.

Allah, he’s like the resident DJ or something. He won’t let
anyone near his equipment. He’s really quiet, always bopping his head to music
no one else can hear. Now, his nickname is just a bit scandalous, if I’m to
believe Rico’s version. It started out pretty harmless. He would go around
rapping Fabolous’ “Young’n” so much, they started calling him Holla Back. When
that became too tedious, it was shortened to Holla. It all changed when a new
Hound, who didn’t quite get it, kept screaming out “Allah!” while they were
fucking. Needless to say, it stuck. He’s proud of it, too, smirking all the
time Rico was telling the story. He’s a bit of milk chocolate with a close cut,
wavy hair, teardrop tattoos, and platinum grills. I smile at him, playing away
in the DJ booth.

He winks and points to me. “This one’s for you, li’l
shawty.”

Rihanna’s “Hard” comes on and I throw my head back,
laughing. I pop my collar for him and he scratches the record then plays it
again. Yeah. I think he and I are going to be great friends.

Venom. He has a thing for snakes. He told me he has a dozen
of them at his house.
A dozen
. Just thinking about it sends shivers up
my spine. His house is one place I’ll never be visiting. He’s hot, though—shoulder-length
black hair and muscles you get from lifting weights every day. He’s the club’s
treasurer. Chopper, I absolutely adore. Physically, he’s like all the pictures
I’ve seen of my dad’s father, only not Mexican. He’s doted on me all day,
cooking for me and making sure I was comfortable. I don’t care what Gage says;
Chopper
is
sweet. A few of the guys’ old ladies stopped by for a while
and they were really cool, too. Everyone seems so different from what I
thought. The old adage has never been truer—don’t judge a book by its
cover.     

I don’t know if it’s the man behind me or if I’m getting a
contact high from all the weed smoke, but I’m feeling extremely relaxed. Better
than I’ve felt in a long time, given the circumstances. With Chrissy being here
and texting Toni all day, my mood improved as the day went by. Now, all Toni
wants to talk about is Gage and when I’m going to fuck him.
Like I haven’t
been trying
. I take a selfie with his arm around me and send it to her. She
replies instantly.

Toni: Bitch! You gonna show me his face or nah?

Raven: Nope. Not yet.

Toni: Whatever. You need fi send on di pussy and stop
hitch.

Toni’s parents are Jamaican. I know things are getting
serious when she starts speaking Patois. At first, when she used to slip into
the dialect, I couldn’t understand a word, but I pretty much have it down now.
She thinks I’m the one stalling. Short of tying him up and taking what I want,
I don’t know what else to do.

Raven: I’ve tried! He won’t do it until I turn 18.

Toni: You found the last man on Earth with morals? Sounds
like a keeper.

Raven: We’ll see.

She sends me a song but I can’t listen to it now, so I leave
it for later. I lay my head on Gage’s shoulder and he kisses my neck softly.
The light touch of his lips on my skin makes me quiver. I close my eyes and let
out a barely audible moan.

“You’re stayin’ with me tonight.”

I snap out of my lusty haze and turn my head, regarding him
carefully. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Yes, I heard you. I just can’t believe
what
I
heard
. “I have to go home… and I have work tomorrow.”

“Millie won’t mind.”

“I can’t leave her shorthanded on a Sunday. Not with the
church crowd.”

“Fine. I can take you to work in the morning.”

I turn around to face him and drape my arms around his neck.
“You really want me to stay, don’t you?”

“I want you in my bed.”

“Aww… Mr. I-Don’t-Sleep-With-Anyone wants to cuddle?”

He scrunches his brows together as if the ramifications of
me staying just occurred to him. He stares at me, and I can see the wheels
turning in his head. Once he’s come to a conclusion, his face relaxes.

“I liked waking up with you next to me.”

Oh, damn.
Fuck the world. If that’s what he wants,
that’s what he’ll get. “Okay. I’ll stay.”