Sassy Road (5 page)

Tigger groaned. “Which brings me back to why I’m standing here now. What the hell happened today, Devon? Why all the secrets?”

Devon and Logan exchanged a knowing glance. Clearing his throat, Devon said, “The meeting didn’t go well. The Angels said they’d quit dealing drugs when we stop our illegal gambling operations and prostitution.”

“What?” Logan asked, his voice raised a few pitches. “Nothing was said about prostitution in front of me.”

“That’s why Damsel and I always talk alone. He knew you didn’t know anything about that and held the secret over my head. Hell, half the club doesn’t know. It’s not the club’s business.”

“The hell it isn’t!” Logan bellowed, slapping his palm against the table.

This time, Tigger and Devon swapped glances.

Logan tried to remain cool while he collected his thoughts. What had he just stumbled upon? He knew about the gambling, but he’d never suspected the Heroes and Rogues of dabbling in the sex business.

“Scratch it,” Devon grumbled.

“You knew about this?” he asked, turning on Tigger and acting betrayed. Big troubles awaited the MC. The guys didn’t like secrets.

“Don’t look at me like that. I just found out about the girls last week,” Tigger informed him.

“And I’ve seen you every day for the last three hundred and sixty-five. You didn’t think to mention prostitution in casual conversation?”

“Why would he?” Devon asked. “You’ve only been a member for five years. Half this club has twenty years or better on you.”

“That’s no excuse, Devon. We make business decisions as a club.”

“We used to,” Tigger complained. “Then, Devon took over. There’s a new law and order here now. Ain’t that right, Devon? You don’t answer to anyone. Do you?”

Devon sniffed, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and stood. “So when do I get to meet the lucky lady?” He retrieved his cell phone, searched his messages, and tossed the device to the table.

Pissed, Logan went in for the kill. “I guess introductions won’t happen tomorrow. From what I hear, somebody played on the wrong field. That’s one reason for my alarm and sudden decision about Sassy. Damsel discussed losing a member of his flock. He knows you’ve been messing around with their sheep. You took their club’s number one gal to your bed. He’s pissed. He should be.”

The color washed out of Devon’s face. “What else did he say?”

“It’s not so much of what he said, but what he implied. Something has happened to your woman, Devon. I’d guarantee it.”

“She isn’t mine,” he muttered, snatching his phone from the glossy surface and hurrying toward the door.

“I hope not,” Logan called out behind him. “Because after the way Damsel acted, I’m afraid Addison may be dead.”

At the sound of her name, Devon abruptly turned around and stalked him. “Don’t you ever say her name in front of me. Do you hear?”

Logan searched his sorrow filled eyes. He’d struck a nerve, lit a raging fire under a well ignited flame. “Oh my God. You are one sorry bastard, Devon. You already knew.”

Chapter Five

The next day, word traveled fast. Logan had claimed an old lady. He’d placed dibs on the new gal, Sassy, and the entire club hummed with the unexpected news.

Prior to leaving the clubhouse, Logan had answered more questions than he’d been prepared to answer. Cara fired out a round, wanting to know everything from Sassy’s last name to what she ate for breakfast. After Cara’s interrogation, he was sort of glad to have a few hours alone.

He stopped by the garage to see if someone could tell him what was wrong with Sassy’s car. The mechanic informed him they still had four vehicles in front of hers, so Logan headed for a desolate and wooded meeting place, right on the outskirts of Beech Creek.

Detective Mark Sampson drove up in a black sedan with dark tinted windows about the time Logan arrived. He parked his bike next to Mark’s car.

“I’m not crazy about this spot,” Logan said, searching the mature oaks behind them.

“Me either,” Mark said, pitching a bag of pot. “Toss it back if we’re made and I’ll hand you some cash.”

Logan stuffed the marijuana in his jacket. He loathed drugs and despised anyone who dealt them. “Super. The club isn’t in the dope business, and you want me to look like I’m running weed. Fantastic.”

“What do you have for me?” Mark asked, dismissing his concerns.

“Did you know the Heroes and Rogues are dabbling in prostitution?”

Mark didn’t respond.

“You did,” Logan stated flatly, pissed because they left him in the dark about something so important. “When were you going to tell me?”

“When did you plan to tell us?”

“I just found out yesterday.”

“That’s bullshit. We both know it.”

“That’s the truth. Why would I lie?” Logan asked, realizing this was one of the many dangers of going under. The longer he was inside, the more suspicious his fellow agents would become. They’d always wonder if he’d gone rogue, decided to act like an outlaw rather than uphold the law.

“I hope you aren’t.”

“Come on, Mark. You know me.”

“Do I? How come you’re just now informing me of your club’s biggest wage earner?”

“Prostitution was apparently a hidden entity, a new enterprise Devon started after his father died.”

“I hope that’s right.”

“Fuck you, man,” Logan said, topping his head with the biker-style short helmet.

“Are you shooting straight with me or not?”

Leaning over his handlebars, Logan said, “As straight as an arrow. I don’t bend, Mark. I know where my targets are, and when it’s time, I’ll shoot the bull’s eye. If you think I’m not ready to take my life back and push a pencil for a few months, you’re wrong. I’m tired of this game, and I’m ready to go home.”

“You seem to be doing pretty well from what I’ve seen,” Mark said, shoving a folder toward him.

“What’s this?” Logan asked, pulling free the string-attached flap.

“Information you need. It’s everything a man ever wanted to know about a woman but was afraid to ask.”

“You’ve been following me.”

“After we found out about the prostitution ring, the higher ups insisted on a tail.”

Logan dragged out a handful of documents and images. He gasped in surprise when he saw various pictures of Sassy. “As soon as I saw her, I knew she looked familiar. It was odd when she offered her name. It was as if she pulled ‘Sassy’ out of thin air.”

“Or it slipped?”

“That’s what I decided last night when I started putting two and two together.” He felt his lips curve in a smile. “She isn’t a gal I’d credit with thinking fast on her feet.”

“So you
did
know her before yesterday?” A beat later, he added, “I thought you might. She’s from Sevierville originally.”

“Yeah. I went to school with her,” Logan replied softly, his heart melting as he thumbed through the pictures. “The kids used to make fun of her. They called her names, accused her of playing rough sex games because she used to come to school battered and bruised. She always tried to hide the armful of bruises she kept. The shiners on her cheeks were harder to conceal. She was a nervous one, forever jumping at her own shadow.”

“The pictures are in order. Your girl went under a huge transformation.”

Logan shuffled through the images one by one and stopped when he came across a picture of her and Scott engaging in some sort of boxing. Damn if she didn’t look good in gloves. He snickered as he focused on her shapely legs, paid a little too much attention to her flat stomach, and toned arms. “I owe the designer of Spandex a hearty note of thanks.”

“I thought you might like those,” Mark said. “Guess you’re already banging her?”

“I just met up with her yesterday,” Logan reminded him, annoyed because he needed to do so in the first place.

“So?”

“So, I’m not,” Logan bit out. “And I won’t be.”

“Uh huh,” Mark drawled, tapping his finger against the photograph depicting a boxing match. “What’s wrong, Logan? Afraid she’ll kick your ass?”

Chapter Six

“I ought to kick your ever-loving butt. Do you know that?” Sassy tossed a pillow toward Logan as soon as he entered his bedroom. “Did it ever occur to you to mention to me that you’re telling your friends I’m your old lady?”

“I considered it for about as long as you thought about telling me who you really are,” Logan said, kneeling down for an apparent two-fold effort—to hide the grin stamped on his lips and to grab the fluffy object from the floor.

“You know who I am,” she accused. “You’ve known since the minute I walked in here. You just want me to say the words.”

“Then say them,” he encouraged her softly.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Logan Marcs.”

“I don’t.”

“I know that look. Damn if I haven’t seen it a million times before—from you, from the locals back home, from teachers and students. All my life, I’ve been on the receiving end of pity.”

“I don’t pity you,” he promised, taking her by the hand and dragging her toward him.

“You do,” she whispered, gasping for air, nervously twitching as her facial spasms gave her away all over again. “I’m not blind. You look at me like you feel sorry for me.”

“The only expression you see is a man in heat, a guy totally mesmerized by the girl who once was, and by the woman you’re meant to be.” Without warning, his lips smothered hers.

She didn’t have a chance to object. There was no time to think about the consequences.

He rubbed his lips over hers ever so slowly and tossed her right arm over his shoulder. Grabbing hold of her torso, he forced her body against his, marking his place upon her mouth as he pressed his body to hers and fed her rapidly building lust. Feverishly, he twirled his tongue inside her mouth, devouring her with a memorable kiss, a kiss designed to roar engines, start motorcycles, and shatter a biker organization if her connection to Damsel Road was ever revealed.

The thought stopped her from pursuing long-lived fantasies. She resisted the kiss and shoved him away, immediately using the back of her hand in an effort to swipe dry her moistened lips.

He looked as if she’d slapped him across the face. “So that kiss didn’t take, huh?” He pursued her then as she backed against the bed and before she could warn him of all the dangers she represented, he made another effort, shoving her to the mattress. He towered over her, his palms pressed against the headboard as his lips met hers once more.

This time, the kiss would stick. This time, Sassy would definitely succumb to the pleasure she’d always hoped would find her.

Logan was going to fall in love with her, but he really didn’t mind. Normally, he’d run. He’d put up barriers, brick walls, anything he could to deter a physical joining, a meeting of bodies leading to a joining of hearts.

Under typical circumstances, he’d resist the urges building inside him, but this was different. He’d known Sassy for most of his life, and in many ways, he’d always cared for her, wondered what had happened to her, and in some ways, loved her in an unconditional way he couldn’t explain.

He sipped at her lips, enjoying the soft kisses she returned. Whenever he kissed her deeply, she shivered all over, turned her head, and tried to resist him. For a moment or two, he allowed her to think her effort paid off. Then, he assaulted her lips all over again while reminding himself to treat her like a fragile doll, handle her with care.

He knew her history, realized what she’d endured, and had always felt sorry for her in the past. But she was wrong about him now.

He didn’t pity her. If anything, he admired her.

After he and Mark went their separate ways, he’d spent hours reviewing her file. She’d been watched because some idiot on the force initially believed she was a runner for Damsel. Through surveillance, agents discovered she was actually plotting revenge—how much and what, no one precisely knew.

His old friend, Scott, helped her. He conditioned and trained her.

Mark was right about one thing. With her training, she could probably kick his ass. And he might enjoy a good physical rumble. He probably wouldn’t even put up a fight.

She wrapped her toned arms around his neck and he felt her relax under him, possibly lost in the deepened kiss. Testing the waters, he cupped the side of her breast, and when she didn’t flinch, he rubbed his thumb over her extended nipple piercing through the thin shirt she wore.

A desire-filled sigh escaped her lips, and he took her vocal release as a go-ahead, a signal he couldn’t ignore. Sliding beside her, he tilted his head and observed, watching closely for any sign of objection as he loosened her shirt, sliding a pearl button out of one slit before moving onto the next, determined to keep his pursuit at a slow pace.