Scarred Asphalt (18 page)

“Play with yourself.”

Fuck me running
.

Thorne shivered, driving a finger into herself, and then
sliding it back out to flick it across her most sensitive area. She bit her
bottom lip once more as she teased her opening with the edge of her finger. Her
hips jerked when she felt his tongue slide along her wet finger, teasing her to
play against her clit more.

Dalton’s thumbs spread her further open, his tongue
flattened out against her core before it drove into her, causing her to grind
down against his mouth and rub her finger quicker against her nub. Her thighs
quivered when his tongue plunged inside her then back out while he lapped and
suckled against her moving finger.

Unable to take much more, her knees finally buckled, his
hand stopped her from crashing to the floor. Strong hands pushed her up,
rotated her to face him, lifted her up and back onto the table, then grasped
both of her legs and set them over his shoulders.

Dalton pressed the heel of his palm against her delta and
ground the calloused flesh into her. Thorn threw her head back; her groan was
heady and throaty.

“That’s a good girl.” Dalton growled against her thigh.

She lifted her head to gaze down at him; his mouth glistened
with her juices. That was beyond amazing. His hand lifted and came down in one
swift motion, her clit smacked with expertly applied efficient force, she
almost came right there. Her hips jerked up with a cry of pleasure as her flesh
met his hand once more in yet another smack.

“Please!” Thorne cried out as her hips ground against his
hand that pressed roughly against her.

“Please what?”

“Please, I need you.” She half moaned and whimpered at the
same time.

“You need what?” Dalton moved his mouth against her, his
tongue thrust inside her once more.

He was driving her mad. She was not going to last if he kept
up what he was doing.

“You. I need to feel you inside me.” There, she said it. She
couldn’t believe she said it, but there it was.

It must have been what he wanted, as he rose up and scooped
her up into his arms, cradling her tenderly against him. Dalton walked over to
the rug, knelt down with her, and laid her gently against the plethora of
pillows.

There was no warning as he positioned himself above her and
in one swift movement buried himself inside of her. Her back arched as her
nails raked down his back in the exquisite torture of him filling her to the
brink.

“Fuck, you are so wet.” Dalton groaned before his mouth
crashed down on hers, his tongue slid past her lips to dance a war against her
own.

The taste of herself on him, mixed with his admission of his
enjoyment of her, thrilled Thorne as her tongue darted and taunted his own.
Legs hooked around his waist, heels pushed against his lower back to urge him
deeper inside her.

His hands tangled in her hair as his mouth possessed her,
hips moved against one another. Her body trembled and her muscles began to tense.
That familiar warmth flooded throughout her lower abdomen as he drove like a
piston deep inside of her. Thorne’s back arched to press her breasts against
his chest, her nails dug into his shoulder blades as her walls clenched around
him.

“No…” Thorne moaned. She hadn’t wanted to cum so quickly.
His dominance was the key to push her to the edge that she wanted to last.

At her plea, Dalton lowered his head, took her nipple
between his teeth, and bit harshly, his tongue following up with a swirl and a quick
flick before he suckled it into his mouth.

That was all it took.

Her cries were loud as she writhed under him, her clit
ground against his pelvis, sending surges of
joie de vivre
through her.
She was left breathless and twitching under him as he stilled and propped
himself up on his shoulders to look down at her.

“I didn’t tell you to stop. I’m not done.” Dalton smiled
biting at her chin.

She groaned as he continued to rock his hips against hers,
his hand slid down her thigh to grip her calf. Dalton rotated just enough so
that he could move her leg up and to the side, allowing him to move even deeper
inside her.

“Shit!” Thorne cried out, her body tingling and overly
sensitive from already having peaked. It didn’t stop her from moving with him
though as he moved faster, the rhythm of their bodies hit a crescendo she never
thought she’d undertake.

She could feel him thicken, his shaft pulsating inside of
her, alerting her that he was getting close. Her body bounced against him as he
pushed her other leg out to spread her open further, the sound of their flesh
slapping against one another was pushing her to the precious edge once more.

“Oh my God…” she breathed out, her body clamped down around
him as that heat and tingling sensation rolled through her once more, unable to
move since he had her where he wanted her.

His grunts grew louder as his body stilled for a millisecond
before he convulsed and thrust sporadically and uncoordinated against her, only
to crumble on top her, his heart beating through his chest.

Thorne couldn’t move. Hell, she didn’t want to. She welcomed
his weight on her, though he slid slightly to the side, his arm lazily draped
over her waist.

No words were needed as the two lay side by side in the
bliss they were both feeling. Euphoric and relaxed, it didn’t take long for
either to slip into the delightful slumber of satisfied lovers.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Apollo hadn’t slept like he had the night before in
for-fucking-ever. Thorne was insatiable. Not that he was complaining. Here he
thought he had the high sex drive. Hers was ten times more. She was so tired
and sore, she was almost late getting up for work.

He cleaned up their mess on the beach, breaking everything
down and putting it all away and by mid-afternoon. It was going to be a long
night, since he had to work at the club, so a nap was looking mighty good at
the moment.

Unfortunately, that idea was quickly flushed down the
toilet. His cell phone rang, and after seeing what number was showing, his
heart sank into the pit of his stomach. A foul taste filled his mouth as he
accepted the call, placing the phone to his ear.

“Yeah?” Apollo cleared his throat, eyes darted to the clock
on the wall to see what time it was.

“I need you down at the office, as of yesterday.” The curt voice
was clipped and to the point, not leaving any room for argument.

His shoulders sagged as he sank onto the nearest couch, his
head lowered to his hand, fingers carelessly raked through his hair. “I didn’t
think my check-in was until next week, did I miss it?”

“No, but I need you here by four. Can you pull it off?”

It was two now, it would take him thirty minutes to get to
the other side of town, twenty to get ready. “Yeah, I can.”

“See you then.” His counselor hung up in his ear.

He tossed the phone aside. Apollo couldn’t fathom why he had
to go in, unless the judge found out about the diner incident and was going to
throw him back in the slammer.

Shit
.

Several thoughts crashed around his brain about what the
hell it could possibly be that caused him to have to check in this early. He
had violated his conditions in several ways with alcohol and the diner, but
really? He didn’t think it was
that
bad. He wasn’t involved in the TG
fiasco, that was for sure, and he was still pouting about not being able to help
bring them down a few notches.

Apollo took a quick shower, threw on jeans, boots, and a
T-shirt, grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed for the Blazer. He almost
texted Thorne to let her know that if he wasn’t at home, he was probably in
jail, but decided against it. He’d be allowed one call and well, he’d be
calling his mom this round. She, above anyone else, deserved that much.

The drive was quick since most of it was on the 101. He took
the Stowel exit, back tracked to the east side business district, then parked
in the driveway of the small building. After closing the door to the Blazer,
Apollo rolled his head from side to side trying to get his neck to crack and
relieve the tension he had created with the worry that was sinking into his
belly.

He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and
skulked up to the front door of his counselor’s office. A rather large sigh
erupted from him as he stared at the door before he grabbed the handle. The
door swished open, a blast of cool air hit him as he stepped in and glanced
around. He spotted the receptionist off to the side, and made his way over to
her.

“Can I help you?” Her eyes raked over him in obvious
approval of what she saw.

He had just been visually raped.

Why did he feel violated?

Apollo gave her the award winning smile that the Kilpatrick
men were known for. “I need to see Tom. He called me and asked me to come in.”

“Oh,” she batted her lashes at him as her tiny hand came up
to cup her chin in. “You must be Dalton.”

“The one and only. Is Tom available?”

“Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Apollo moved away from her desk, and meandered around the
office to look at the various pictures that were hung up. Several of Tom
Hasselhoff’s clientele were very famous people. Now he didn’t feel so bad.
Seeing Tyson, Ladell, Shamrock, Brolin all taking pictures with their so-called
parole officer, settled his rampant thoughts for a few moments.

A large wooden door swung open revealing a stocky bald
headed man. “Come on in, Dalton.”

Apollo nodded and stepped past Tom, into the quaint office.
“What’s doin’?”

“Take a seat.” Tom shut the door behind them and rounded his
desk, sitting opposite the chair that Apollo sank into.

“Mind telling me why I’m here?”

Tom leaned back in his large leather chair, his hands neatly
folded over his rounded belly. His stare was oddly intense, making Apollo shift
uncomfortably in his seat.

“Dude, out with it already. I’ve been going fucking nuts
trying to figure out why you called me in here. The only reason I’ve come up
with, is that I’m going to lockup.”

Tom chuckled and shook his head. “Nope. I can say you’re not
going to county.” He sniffed and kicked his feet up on his desk; his eyes
looked directly at Apollo from over his shoes. “Your little cop buddy? Walker?”

“Yeah, what about that prick?”

“He’s currently been suspended without pay pending an IA
investigation. He’s been suspected of taking payoffs from the rival club that
your crew is having problems with. They looked into your arrest and interviewed
a couple of witnesses that came forward, and they testified that Walker had it
out for you from the beginning. He had been watching you for about thirty
minutes and attacked you, purposefully breaking your camera.”

Apollo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was like a
huge weight was being lifted off of his shoulders. His mind was a whirlwind of
questions, though one stood out the most. “So, does this mean the charges are
dropped?”

“Yep. I’ll be taking our little piece of jewelry back from
you, if you don’t mind.” Tom grinned at him as he rose from his seat and walked
to the far wall. He reached up to grasp the edge of a picture and pulled it
out, to reveal a hidden safe behind it. After he punched in a couple of
numbers, the safe clicked open allowing him to reach in and remove a key.

Apollo didn’t need any prompting what so ever. His boot was
off and his sock was quick to follow, allowing him to have the black metal and
plastic anklet removed.

Once his ankle was free, Apollo set to scratching his leg
like a madman. “I have no fucking hair left.” He grunted as he continued to
scratch at his ankle and shin, looking up to Tom. “So, now what happens?”

“Well, truthfully and off the record?”

“No doubt.”

Tom gave a slow nod of his head. “I like you, kid. I knew
your dad and from what I’ve heard, you’re a standup guy, just like he was. Take
this piece of advice. Get a lawyer. I’m not talking just any lawyer; a cut
throat, and balls to the wall lawyer that will not be afraid to take on the
sheriff’s department. You were wrongfully accused of a crime you didn’t commit.
You were imprisoned and also abused physically.” Tom raised his hand to stop
Apollo from opening his mouth. “There was video of him hitting you with the
asp. Though talking shit about his mom? I probably would have beaten your ass,
too.” He rummaged through one of his desk drawers until he found what he was
looking for. “Here. Call this number. It’s Evans and Evans. They will take your
case, pro-bono, I’m sure.”

Apollo wasn’t sure what to think as he took the card from
Tom and placed it into his wallet. He quickly tugged on his sock and boot,
stood up and stuck out his hand. “Thank you, sir. I will give them a call in
the morning.”

Tom shook Apollo’s hand. “Be sure you do. You’ve got one
hell of a civil lawsuit, son.”

Apollo wasn’t sure what he wanted to do first, other than
get on his damn bike. Back in the Blazer, he headed toward Thorne’s place. It
wasn’t like he had anywhere else he could go. He had let his apartment go, his
bike was at the shop, and he felt lost.

Apollo wanted to stay with Thorne. He felt at home with her
and honestly didn’t want to leave. Maybe he wouldn’t tell her. What she didn’t
know wouldn’t hurt her, right? If he told her, she might make him leave, and
any progress that he made with her would be washed away. He knew she would sink
right back into the self-loathing abyss that she had finally surfaced from.

“Fuck,” he yelled in the cab of the SUV, slamming the heel
of his hand against the steering wheel. He didn’t want to lie, but as of right
now, that was his only option. He needed to figure out a way to tell her and be
able to keep her as well.

He was going to have to have a sit down with Saber, maybe
Romeo, and see what they thought. Apollo never wanted to stick around with one
woman for too long after Gabby. But now, the one woman he found that could hold
a candle to him, would be lost in the blink of an eye.

He put the Blazer into park, after he pulled into the
driveway, and turned off the engine. With a devastated sigh, Apollo glanced up
to the front of the house and frowned. Thorne wasn’t due home for another ten
or fifteen minutes and her truck wasn’t in the driveway, yet her front door was
wide open.

Apollo jumped out of the SUV and crept into the house,
trying not to make any noise lest someone was still inside. Nothing better than
the element of surprise. He swept through the house room by room; nothing was
touched or seemed out of place. Maybe he had left the door open?

“Ohhhh, shit,” he said in an almost breathless whisper as he
stepped into Thorne’s bedroom.

* * * *

Thorne had just gotten home and noticed Dalton sneaking
around the house like he was trying to scare her. Two could play that game.
Marauders kicked off, she slipped silently down the hallway behind him,
planning on tackling him when he least expected it.

That was until she heard him.

Thorne lifted up onto her tip toes and looked over his
shoulder. A strangled cry erupted from deep within her chest at what she saw
laid out before her.

Her room was destroyed.

No, fuck that.

It looked like a nuclear holocaust had happened.

Someone had come in and took their time combing over every
damn inch of her bedroom. The carpet was covered in saw dust and chicken shit,
her shredded curtains lay in a heap on her floor. The down pillows were cut
open, the feathers strewn about the floor and bed, which was also sliced and
diced to hell and back. The dark cherry four-poster bed was splintered into
pieces; everything on her dresser had been swept to the floor and stomped on.
Slut,
whore
, and other slurs were spray-painted on the walls along with crude
pictures depicting sexual acts.

“Thorne, don’t go in there.”

Dalton grabbed her by her arms while white hot tears of rage
blinded her. She knew who did this. It was pretty fucking clear. Thorne
wrestled in his grasp as she tried to get past him and into the room to see if
anything was salvageable. Her chest was pounding so hard, it felt like she was
about to have a damn heart attack.

“Let me in there, Dalton!” Thorne cried out, unable to stop
herself from beating at his chest as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She had
never felt more violated in her entire life. That bitch had broken into her
home and wrecked what little peace she had left in her life.

“Thorne, please, stop.” His voice was firm as he gripped her
biceps, his fingers dug into the muscle.

“My jewelry box,” she all but pleaded with him, unable to
see it on her dresser any more. “I have to find it.”

“I’ll go in and look. You don’t need to see any more of this
right now. Go into the living room. Wait there, please.”

She jerked out of his arms with a menacing glare as she
turned away from him. “I hate you right now.”

“Hate me all you want, Espina. But this is for your own
good.”

“Whatever.” She wiped angrily at her tears but stopped at
her weight room door. Something had caught her attention from the corner of her
eye. Her head turned with a sniffle to get a better look.

“No,” she choked out the single word as she rushed into the
room, sinking to her knees when she reached her broken jewelry box. It was
shattered into hundreds of pieces and its contents, a single envelope, was
missing. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch the broken wood shards
as an icy fear twisted around her heart.

What had the bitch done with the only gift she had left from
Maggie?

Fear turned into resolve, which was quickly consumed by
sheer, unadulterated anger. Her fury almost choked her as she stood up and sped
out of the weight room and back toward the front door, pausing long enough to
slip her boots back on.

She knew exactly where Gabby was, and Thorne knew she was
about to roll into a lion’s den, but she didn’t give two fucks. That cum
guzzling thundercunt was going to pay for everything she had ever done. For all
of the things she said about Thorne, for lying about being with Dalton, for
causing a fight inside the club, for throwing a brick through her window, and
last but not least, for taking the last piece of her dead sister from her.

Thorne drove blind, seething with mounting rage as she raced
to the TG’s bar just outside Nipomo near Jocko’s. Her throat burned with the
ragged breaths she was taking, hundreds of images playing havoc in her mind
with the things Gabby could be doing to the envelope she had stolen.

She had kept tabs on Gabby when Styx fired her, in case
something happened and she needed to rip her a new asshole. Guess perseverance
paid off. Daddy hired Gabby because the whore couldn’t hold down any job
otherwise.

She jumped in surprise as the shrill tone of her phone
sliced through the silence of the cab of the SUV. She denied the call with a
simple swipe of the reject button. She wasn’t dumb; she knew Dalton was trying
to find out where she went. If he was smart, he’d know exactly where she was
headed.

The Tahoe screeched to a halt, she threw it into park, and
jerked the keys out of the ignition.  Thorne marched toward the door while she
peeled down the top of her jumpsuit. She tied off the arms around her waist,
leaving her in the grey-ribbed tank top she used as an undershirt. She readied
herself by pulling her hair up and out of her eyes, just as her booted foot
kicked the door open.