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Cocky (Spartan Riders Book 5) Page 4


  Couldn’t get enough.

  “Fuck,” Kade grunted, and Angel noted the way his expression pinched, the way his muscles tensed and flexed and his breathing got all choppy. She’d learned his tells, those little clues that indicated he was on the verge of coming…and she loved watching him.

  As he pitched over the edge and released inside her, Angel grabbed hold of the back of his neck and pulled him closer, laying her own molten kiss on him, needing to claim him as much as he claimed her.

  He crushed her into the bed with the full weight of his body and, breaking their kiss, laid his forehead against hers. Eyes closed, they breathed as one, catching their breath and allowing their heartbeats to slow.

  Angel ran her hands lightly down his back and sides, collecting the sweat that coated him. Because he was fit as a fiddle, sex between them was always wet and messy.

  She loved that, too.

  To be perfectly honest, there wasn’t a single damn thing Angel could say about Kade Hunter was a bad thing. He was perversely attractive and acutely sexy. She’d never before and had yet to see now, a man who could match his caliber. Kade was, in a word, remarkable.

  “I want you to be mine,” Kade told her as he lay perfectly motionless on top of her. “Mouse? I want you to be mine.”

  She’d heard him correctly the first time. She was just on the fence about how to answer. Did she take the risk of being his property, for better or worse, or did she stay on the path they were on now?

  Nothing risked is nothing gained.

  Those words repeated in her mind along with fantasies of what life could be like with a big man like him by her side, caring for her, looking out for her, loving her…until Angel found herself nodding in agreement.

  “Okay, baby. I’ll be yours,” she said softly.

  As if he had been waiting for that answer, she felt him grow thick inside her again, and Kade fit his mouth over hers, his smile as he pecked her lips with a series of tiny, endearing kisses contagious.

  “You’re mine now,” he said fiercely. “Totally and completely mine.”

  Worry niggled at Angel, though, something she couldn’t ignore. Before she could stop herself, she grabbed hold of his face with both hands, forcing him to stop and look at her. “A trial basis. If it doesn’t go well, if for some reason we aren’t compatible, I walk away. Same for you,” she added, wanting it to be fair for both of them.

  He didn’t look pleased by that statement, but she knew instinctively that he wasn’t going to argue. “Fine, baby, a trial basis it is. But you won’t have any need to be backing out of this. You’ll see.”

  Yes. Yes, they would.

  five

  Talia McKinnon sat in the metal folding chair listening to the speech taking place at the head of the room with half an ear. The bulk of her attention was fixed on the phone in her hand. More specifically, the text Tucker sent her that morning. It was a simple “hi,” but to her, it screamed pain and misery.

  She knew that because she felt it too.

  Leaving Tucker had been the single hardest decision she’d ever made, and she’d made some hard ones in her lifetime. Being in a relationship was hard enough without adding outside problems, and the Spartan Riders had a host of them.

  The war between the Spartans and the criminal organization run by their former rival’s sister, Luciana Cruiz, had hit its pinnacle, and Tucker had gotten so absorbed in the fight, their personal life ended up paying the price for it.

  Talia simply couldn’t live like that any longer.

  At least, that’s what she’d told him.

  It hadn’t all been a lie though. She was sick and tired of the drama and of being caught in the middle. The war had put a strain on their relationship, and watching the man she loved get sucked farther and farther down into its steel trap shredded her heart…which was why she couldn’t stand idle anymore.

  When the new director of the FBI took over the case she’d been working before she left the bureau—the one that’d brought her and Tucker together—he’d viewed her as an asset they couldn’t afford to lose. Getting that phone call had been shocking and totally life changing. They’d wanted her back on the case, not as a lead but a partner, providing valuable insight and detective skills. With just how far south things had gotten with the Spartans and all the blood that had been shed, she’d decided the sacrifice was worth the payoff.

  Making the world a better place required a certain amount of selflessness, and that was exactly why Talia had gone into this line of work to begin with. She wanted to make an impact, to change lives. She just hadn’t realized it might mean not having one of her own.

  As much as she’d wanted to tell Tucker everything, so he would know not everything was his fault, she couldn’t. Tucker might have been supportive of her and her decisions, but this was one she knew she couldn’t involve him in. Not only because he would have thrown a huge fit, but also because she was told expressly to keep it under wraps.

  The only way to pull that off was to walk away.

  And Talia had. The cover story was already in her lap, and she knew it wouldn’t be questioned. Even though it sounded twisted even to her own ears, she was doing this for them. For all of them. For people she didn’t even know.

  Once it was done and over, and the bad guys were behind bars, the world truly would be a safer place. She was counting on Tucker being able to understand that.

  He was a reasonable man…most days.

  “Good thing I took notes,” Marley King, her new partner and lead on the case said as everyone rose from their chairs.

  “Sorry, I spaced,” Talia apologized with a half-hearted smile and turned off her phone without sending a reply.

  As they filed out with the rest of the FBI task force, Marley nodded at Talia’s phone, her silky brown, blunt-cut bangs falling over one equally brown eye. “He still hanging on?”

  “Tight as ever. I hope,” she amended with a frown. They were so close to closing this case. All she needed was a little more time and then she could go home and try to repair the damage her leaving had undoubtedly caused.

  As the assembly broke out into the hall, Marley and Talia turned left and made their way toward their private office.

  “I know it sucks having to lie to him,” Marley commiserated, “but you’ll be able to go home soon and put this all behind you.”

  “I really hope you’re right. Right now, he’s miserable, and he thinks it’s all his fault that I left. When he finds out the truth, he might never forgive me.”

  Unlocking the office door, Marley stepped in first and flipped on the overhead lights. The two desks that pressed back to back were covered in so many files and paperwork, the tan metal was barely visible, and the trashcan beside them was beyond overflowing with various takeout containers and empty coffee cups. All evidence of their late nights and hard work. But what really stood out was the giant whiteboard covered in a combination of both women’s handwriting, with arrows and lines crisscrossing paths around photos of perps and persons of interest, all forming a network that pointed directly at the Cruiz Cartel, recently overtaken by one Manuel Contreras. Foul play was assumed, as those kinds of exchanges rarely happened peaceably, but no body had yet to be recovered. Luciana might as well have been abducted by aliens because it was as if she’d simply vanished.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Marley said as she seated herself behind her desk and tried to make sense of the pile of papers in front of her. “He’s still texting and calling every day and night. That’s a good sign.”

  “Again, I hope you’re right.” Talia sighed and sat down opposite her partner. As much as she wanted to wallow in her self-imposed misery, there was work to do, and the only way to go home again was to get it done. The sooner, the better. “Where did we leave off?”

  Marley cut her a cunning smile. “I believe it was something to do with undercover operations and hitting Contreras when and where he least expects it.”

  Ah,
right. There. Talia flipped her shoulder-length blonde hair back over one shoulder and picked up her trusted black sharpie. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  six

  “Where did you go last night?”

  Rena looked up from a bowl of Cheerios she was munching on while propped against the edge of Angel’s gold faux stone Formica counter. She looked rough as if she’d been out running all night.

  Or having sex.

  Angel would bet on the latter. She’d never known her sister to be one to go without. She was wild, untamed, and had a touch of a sweet and softer side, and that’s what drew the opposite sex like bees to honey.

  The problem was, those bees usually turned out to be wasps and almost always stung.

  “You’re up late.”

  Angel arched an eyebrow. “I work late; therefore, I sleep late. So…what’s your excuse?”

  “I had a few drinks,” Rena said around a mouthful of food.

  Angel looked her over once more as she moved past her to retrieve a bowl from the cabinet for her own cereal. “Have fun?”

  “Mmhmm. Sure did.”

  Pouring some chocolate frosted flakes into the bowl, Angel asked over her shoulder, “With anyone I might know?”

  “Gee, Mom,” Rena snarked, “I don’t know. What’s with the third degree?” She huffed and dropped her empty bowl into the sink.

  Angel gave her a sidelong look as she opened the refrigerator to get the milk. “What’s with the attitude?” she shot back.

  Rena stared her down for a moment before dropping the annoyed act. Except it wasn’t an act. Angel knew her sister well enough to know that she was hiding something, and if she was hiding something, it was because she knew Angel wouldn’t approve. So whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  “Sorry, sissypoo,” she cooed. “I guess I’m just not used to answering to anyone.”

  “It was a simple question, not an interrogation,” Angel told her pointedly.

  “Well, I realize that now,” she said with an obvious ‘duh’ in her tone and a roll of her bloodshot eyes. “Anywho, do you need the bathroom before I grab a shower? God, the smoke in those bars really clings to you!”

  She was off and out of sight before Angel could respond that yes, she did need the bathroom. In fact, she had to leave for work in an hour, and she was still dressed in her PJs. Now it looked like she was going to be late.

  To pass the time, she performed a quick sweep through the apartment, making sure everything was neat and tidy before she left. It was a habit she’d developed early on, coming home to a clean house after school taking a bit of the sting of being alone to fend for herself out of it. It was a sting she still felt now, but it was dampened by adulthood and familiarity. The only time she didn’t feel it was when Kane was camping out in her bed, but even then, the lack of it sparked a kind of wariness and discomfort that she had a hard time shaking, as if she’d grown so used to being hurt and alone that she didn’t know how to be anything else. And how was that for fucked up?

  Angel shoved the dark thoughts aside. As soon as Rena was done in the bathroom, she dipped in and did a quick workup for herself with not a lot of time to spare and ended up walking through the club doors with a wet strip of hair nestled between her shoulder blades while she swiped on a lip stain that wouldn’t last more than a couple hours but would just have to do.

  “Almost late, Grace,” Wanda, her manager and the strippers’ mother hen while on the clock, called out as she swept her way between tables lighting candles for the patrons who would be arriving just as soon as the doors officially opened.

  “Almost doesn’t count,” Angel informed her as she breezed by on her way to the clock to punch in.

  Wanda flashed her a smile. “That’s right, baby girl. But ya better hope nothing ever comes up, or that almost is gonna turn into a definite.”

  Angel waved her off, all yeah-yeah. She already had a mother, and look how fantastic that turned out. She didn’t need another person in her life trying to give “helpful” parenting advice. It was almost, if not more, annoying than unsolicited pregnancy tips from third-time parents. Or so she’d heard.

  Once she’d clocked in and practiced her deep breathing exercises, Angel hit the floor, which was now buzzing with activity. Same as every night, as soon as the clock hit eight p.m. and those doors opened, the party didn’t stop until the booze ran dry.

  And she made sure to work every night Wanda allowed her to because the tips were amazing. Unbeatable. In the short time she’d been working there, she’d managed to pay off all of her debt and sock a good chunk away for a rainy day.

  Or a vacation. She’d love a vacation. Had never been on one and wanted desperately to see places and things. Call it a dream or whatever, but Angel had ideas for what she wanted her life to look like, and a few palm trees and white sand between her toes sounded like a good place to start.

  When Kade rolled in a few hours later, Angel was tired, sweaty, and more than a little happy to see him. He always had a ready smile and a hard-on for her, and no matter what state she was in, she was always ready to meet him halfway.

  “How ya doin’, Mouse?”

  Angel abandoned her empty tray on a nearby table and crossed the floor between them in a few quick strides, crashing into his giant open arms and lifting onto her toes to meet his warm, hungry mouth with her own.

  He was delicious, like decadent chocolate-covered strawberries: hard shell on the outside and sweet as candy on the inside. He smelled just as good, like warm leather, motor oil, and a hint of beer.

  Sinking her teeth into Kade Hunter was the sweetest treat she could ever imagine. After she’d had herself a good drink of him, she stepped back a bit so she could soak in the vision of him, too. As always, the picture he made in the flesh was better than her fondest memory could ever conjure up.

  Kade was dressed in his usual black leather cut with the club’s logo emblazoned on the back and his handle and role at the table stitched on the front. Underneath he wore a crisp white T-shirt that was stretched to compromising around his bulky frame. The thick veins that ran down the front of each bicep always made her mouth water, and those narrow hips and large thighs in those painted-on black jeans killed her every time.

  “You’re good enough to eat,” Kade said, that deep voice of his rubbing up against every nerve ending in her body. She blushed deep and scraped her top teeth over her bottom lip, and Kade’s light eyes darkened as he leaned in and added, “And if you keep looking at me like that, I just might.”

  Angel’s core clenched tight at his suggestion. “Don’t you threaten me with a good time, Kade Hunter,” she scolded with a flirtatious smile. Grabbing the lapels of his vest, she pulled his chest up against hers and looked straight up into his lust-filled eyes and breathed, “I just might take you up on it.”

  Normally, Angel wasn’t the openly flirtatious type. Her style was more cagey and quiet, but from the moment she first laid eyes on him, she’d found it impossible to hold anything back. There was just something about Kade that brought out her inner vixen.

  “Might?” Kade smirked down at her as he grabbed two handfuls of her ass and ground his pelvis against hers, allowing her to feel his hard and hungry erection. “Mouse, there’s no chance in hell you’d not take me up on it.”

  Angel combed her fingers through his closely cropped hair and brought her mouth to his, lightly kissing him. “You say that with such confidence.”

  “Because I know how much my woman likes to ride my dick.”

  “And so crude too,” she remarked, ignoring how nice his claim on her sounded to her hopeful ears.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Mouse. Did I offend your delicate sensibilities?” he asked while openly transferring his hand from her ass to massage one of her now very sensitive breasts.

  At least it was mashed between them. Anyone who walked by would have a good idea of what was going on, but they couldn’t see anything too damning. But Kade was like that. He played hard and
fast and without any reservations, but he wasn’t the type to put a woman on display—at least not one he cared about.

  That was something Angel had a hard time allowing herself to think or hope for. She wanted Kade to care about her, but she also didn’t want to reach that far into the stratosphere because that kind of fall was killer, and she was definitely destined to fall if she wasn’t more careful.

  Even if he did care, it didn’t mean Kade would stick. He was a man surrounded by women, all at his choosing and disposal. There was no obvious benefit to being with her, other than he could have all the milk he wanted for free without worrying about having to buy the cow first.

  And Angel was going to keep telling herself she was okay with that arrangement because she wasn’t willing or ready to do anything different.

  With a proper Southern accent that she sometimes used in jest when joking around with the few friends she had, Angel said, “I don’t know that I have any delicate anything, sir, but I am a nice girl, and nice girls shouldn’t be spoken to that way. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” She gasped lightly and tipped her head back, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead as if moments away from succumbing to a fainting spell.

  Kade took the opportunity to capitalize on her position and swooped down, his hot, wet mouth latching onto her throat and blazing a path with his velvet tongue up to her chin and finally her lips, his teeth grazing her skin. The unexpected kiss shot fire through Angel’s veins and not an inch of her skin was left untouched by the explosion of gooseflesh.

  Southern charm had flown out the window faster than a lightning strike, and Angel wrapped herself around Kade like a decorative scarf, practically hanging off his neck as she laid one hell of a kiss back on him.

  “You two outta get a room,” someone said as they passed by. “They’re twenty-five an hour at that motel down the road, if you don’t mind risking bed bugs and body lice.”

  Kade and Angel lifted their heads in time to catch Wanda’s fleeting, teasing smile as she approached a three-top to take their drink order.