CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Who said three’s a crowd?” - Lawless.

 

As motels went, this one was two drugs raids up from a prized shithole.

Overlooking a mountain range, with only a gas station across the road for company, it wasn’t ideal aesthetically, but perfect for noise cancelling.

Lawless positioned in the doorway, his shaved head almost clipping the top of the frame and took stock of the one bed in the pocket-sized space. A crappy portable tv on the dresser, a bathroom no doubt smaller than the broom closet at the club.

Dark pea-green carpet, patchy and worn in the high foot traffic areas had seen better days. Nicotine stained walls and some god-awful orange lamp with tassels around the shade.

It was straight out of the acid-fuelled 70’s.

It was the kind of motel that if it had a brochure it would have been described as kitsch and charming, including a map of previous murders.

Lawless saw no charm.

Only crime scenes in the making.

He’d stayed in so many motels over the years he considered himself an expert. There was that one place in Delaware that he spent many a pleasant hour coked out of his head, drunk and covered in his own come and whatever curiously queer boy he’d brought home that night. 

He could have met at his home away from home with all his goodies, but he didn’t want this visit in any way associated to Lawless known member of the Renegade Souls MC, not when he’d worked so hard to disguise his identity.

And naughty maggots he played with tended to get overly excited from time to time and flap their disobedient, little gums and tell all about their depraved experiences with him. He couldn’t say of the times he’d had referral calls, like he was running a damn travel agent.

Meat was so rude at times.

Ah well, what you gonna do, he thought.

He’d parked around back, choosing to use his baby Mustang instead of his Harley and instead of his usual club cut marked with his ENFORCER patch, Lawless was in dark stone cargo pants with a simple muscle shirt and a plain black leather jacket, without the grim reaper and his club’s name on the back.

He hefted a sigh. He felt naked without them. Barren of order and all shit went to hell. Who was he if not identified as a Renegade Souls?

He heard a car pull in outside and he smacked his callused hands, rubbing them together, smirking a little villainous as he let the knock sound first. And then another.

It was good to keep people waiting.

Swinging the motel door open he set his gaze on first the woman, as was expected. She smiled, flushed. Lawless had a habit of compiling people as though they were at a check out; Mini skirt. Tank top. Flat sandals. Fake tan. Short hair. Tapered waist, flared hips. Double D tits, pouty lips. Already aroused, was she? She scanned her own gaze over him like he was a melted candy bar.

Bad, bad meat. Even her tits were happy to see Lawless.

Next, he took his blue stare to the man standing at her side. Tan pants, white shirt and a jacket the color of mud. Floppy hair that kept falling over his eyes. Several inches shorter than Lawless’ own 6’4”. He’d guessed instantly it was the guy who was more susceptible to manipulation and didn’t that just work out fine. A little unnerved, the man shuffled as Lawless assessed them both in turn, no sense in hurrying things.

When he turned back to Lawless, who cast a brow high, the man’s eyes turned smoky with interest which was gone in a second as he led the woman inside.

Well, thought-provoking to say the least, he hummed, closing the door behind them.

Zofia and Alex Evanson. Or as Lawless knew them as; bad little married swingers.

“We’re so glad you called, David,” the natural blond said with an excited squeal to her voice as Lawless reached into his pocket and brought out a joint, sparking it to life he inhaled the weed deeply a few times before he offered it out.

The man took it first and presented it to the Mrs.

“We’re still buzzing from the other night.” They smoked until it was gone, and both appeared stress-free.

Lawless never needed weed to calm his chill, but he wanted these maggots malleable as puff pastry.

Oh, yeah. Like taking candy from a dumb baby.

The tickle in his throat forced out a smile over his lips.

“So, am I, darling.” Lawless said feigning interest, he shrugged out of his coat, lacing his usual corroded voice box with a sweetness he didn’t feel. Catching interesting glances from the pair as bad eyes streaked over his bare arms and hard torso.

He was a trained killer in peak condition of both mind and body.

And just three nights previous he’d railed that petite Polish woman in front of her husband while she sucked him off.

Fun times for all.

Threesomes. Moresomes. Fucksomes and triads of orgies. Lawless had done it all. Usually orchestrating it like he was Arturo Toscanini.

Sex was all the same noise, depending on the day and his varying stages of enthusiasm.

However, this was an altogether different chess game. He was already five moves ahead when he helped Zofia out of her wispy clothes.

This game he liked.

Subterfuge with a side order of dominance and an orgasm to go.

Alex looked on.

The bulge in his pants wasn’t only for his wife. Bad maggot and his nasty secret. Lawless smirked and continued until the woman was naked as the day she came into the world.

“Have you been a good girl, Zofia?” The authority in his question made her shiver, nipples hardened. He let her husband watch as Law pinched both hard enough to turn them red.

He just bet she was juicy between her legs.

Why wouldn’t she? Two cocks make a very wet pussy happy. Everybody knew that.

“I don’t know about that,” she giggled winking at her man. Who had yet to chime in.

Lawless cranked his head to the side, pinning Alex with an expectant look.

His chest churned a few times before he caved to Lawless’ silent demand and he too began to strip out of his clothes.

It was too easy.

He made sure to brush subtle touches on both hungry bodies.

One wet. One hard.

Malleable meat did what he told them for the next ten minutes while he took out another joint, smoked and talked bullshit to impress two people who were already undressing him with their dirty eyes.

When Law tossed the last of the smoke in an ashtray, he licked a mark from his thumb before pulling the woman over his lap. Back to his chest. Splitting her thighs wide to show all she had to the next state over.

Alex was perched on the end of the bed stroking his own Johnson, getting a little furious on the down strokes. Lawless made sure to keep eyes on him, making the man sweat and pant out of sorts while he touched the greedy gash between Zofia’s legs. She groaned and arched into him.

“Did you know your name meant wisdom?” He threw in a boring fact.

She preened. “It does?”

“Yeah. I looked it up.”

“You are one of the few who pronounces correctly.”

Of course, he was. He didn’t inherit the moron gene. Unless you asked his momma. And no one was talking to that bitch any time soon.  

ZAW-fya. Lawless didn’t speak Polish but he’d sat at enough poker tables in his time with a lot of Polish gamblers. He noticed her other half pronounced it Zo-fire. Bad fish.

When she was good and soaked and writhing, he patted her pussy and pulled his fingers free.

“Alex. I think your Mrs needs some deep, satisfying penetration.”

“Oh, yes. Honey, please.” She purred to him. He sauntered over, cock bobbing. Lawless on the only stool in the room kept her perched perilously edged on his lap, stretched out like a dirty buffet. He pulled at her nips to make her cry.

And then holding a wet, moaning woman on his lap he encouraged Alex to bang his wife.

Teeth bared, he licked his lower lip.

Alex watched, pupils blown out, and rammed hard.

Lawless cackled internally. Someone was trying to impress him.

Perverts were so predictable. They liked to peacock just like any other mammal.

Arching his brow, he let his hand trail down Zofia’s undulating belly, the woman all but forgotten, though she was making a fucking mess on his lap.

He’d need new pants.

Never trying to be one thing or another. Lawless was just himself.

He was told he was menacing. He was.

He was told he was overtly domineering. He was.

He was told he was bossy and strict. Yes, and yes. What’s the problem?

What most didn’t know, except his club friends, was he was extremely, and downright manipulative. Sly could have been his middle name.

“Oh, David. Baby, please!” She cried for both the men tending to her body.

Lawless wasn’t even listening.

A tick of boredom weighed. Didn’t it always. Oh well.  His circuits all hummed in tune. Not yet, not yet. Patience. He couldn't get to the end of the game just yet.

When Law’s hand slid around Zofia’s thigh, down and over to Alex. The man flinched then settled into his task, he shared a kiss with his wife, their slobbering lips doing nothing for Lawless.

Anyone knew kissing was for the animals.

Oh, wait. Wasn’t he called an animal recently? Funny that.

In. out. In. out. Hard. And harder. Alex slammed and on an out stroke, Lawless met those gray, watchful, starving eyes and let his fingers stroke down the wet cock to the root.

Alex inhaled, stalled before he started back up a second later.

Oh, this fish. Lawless smirked and repeated, tighter this time, rimming the dick in his whole fist making Alex fuck through it before he got to his wife’s pussy.

“You see how it goes …if you want the back of her pussy, work for it.”

Alex grunted.

Zofia belted out her orgasm. And two very happy married people later Lawless lifted her off his lap.

“Your tattoo is scary as fuck, David.” She announced stretching her pleasured body across the bed.

In the process of pulling out his throbbing dick, Lawless cast her a wink and rolled on a condom. “So, I’ve been told.”

“Again? So soon?” She sounded so hopeful. He hated to burst her baby bubble.

No, he didn’t.

“Not your turn, darling.” Slickly, Lawless lowered his head so when he swerved it to the left, towards Alex gulping water over by the dresser, his eyes were heavy lidded. And the guy almost choked when Lawless’ intent became clear.

Catching the bad fish was going to be easy.

“What? Eh…I don’t think so.” Protested the man with the hard-on.

Lying, bad meat.

On the bed, Zofia got the gist and giggled. “Honey, you haven’t lived until you feel David’s big dick inside you. Trust me you’ll love it. You’ll look sexy, baby. Please? For me.”

It took no persuasion at all. A light click of his fingers and a calm certainty in his tone he had Alex over the bed.

But first. He pulled Zofia across the comforter by the ankles. She wasn’t shy in opening her thighs. “I need something from you first,” he charmed and fed his big cock into her. Going and going and going until she groaned languidly, as he hit bottom.

When Lawless pulled free the condom was soaked.

“Can’t fuck your man without a bit of lube, now can I? Or you’ll be tending to his sore ass for days.” He directed at her saucily.

She lapped up the attention and the prospect of watching her man take a dick for the first time. That she knew of. Sly Alex was not a first to the queer attention, that much Lawless recognized, what with the way he was eye-fucking Lawless eager as a goddamn Labrador, he all but wagged his tail.

The cock pointing at him was stiff as a board.

“This isn’t what we agreed to, Zo. I don’t think …” no time for thinking when Lawless edged his way inside and didn’t stop until he got past the ring of muscle.

And what do you know. Alex soon changed his mind. His grunt ricocheted off every wall, his strong back arched up like a cat in heat.

Zofia rolled to the head of the bed, her naughty fingers whittling between her slick thighs, watching the whole thing. “Slide down.” Lawless told her. “You want to lick her, don’t you?” He gripped the male hips and shoved forward forcing an answer in the form of a pleasured groan.

Soon all three were in motion.

It was a good orgasm, Law, thought, dumping the condom in the bathroom. Not one of his best, but while in Rome.

Washing up at the sink, he soaped under his nails, around his wrists. Methodical tending to his skin, he met his own reflection in the mirror above the sink.

He heard voices quiet and hushed.

The naughty meat whispering about him?

Maybe deciding on a Yelp rating.

He smirked. Predictable.

Just as he thought when the door edged open and in slid Alex, closing it behind him. “Mind if I take a piss? Zo is thinking we order in some food, man. What do you think?”

A measured brow and silence from Lawless, he waited for the other male to sidle his naked form up to him. Law watched him in the mirror while he dried his hands.

“That was eh… yeah.” Nervous laugh. His dick was not very nervous. Already semi-hard, Law observed.

It didn’t matter the level of intelligence a man had, even one like Lawless who was constantly poking into things, he hadn’t risen to the height of mind reading just yet, pity really. He wondered what nasty thoughts were flitting through this one’s mind as he deliberately allowed silence to shroud through the room. He tossed the towel and turned around, resting his ass on the countertop. Though he slouched, with his legs crossed at the ankle, he was still taller than Alex. A fact of which made those gray eyes gleam raking over Lawless’ brawny torso.

“You don’t say much do you?”

“Does that bother you?”

“Nah, man. When my girl gets going she can talk for ten people, gets annoying after a while, you know.” Boston inflected into his voice.

Something about the way this guy said it clawed the inside of his spine.

He hated disloyalty. Fucking hated it. He’d kill a motherfucker at the first sign of betrayal against him, no questions asked no chances given.

If he believed in any of the almighty gods he’d thank them for his club brothers.

Loyal always.

This bad fish with his growing meat hanging between his legs wasn’t showing the proper sense of loyalty to his woman.

Lawless wouldn’t want an old lady. Not for any fucked-up, damaged reason, he was as sane as the next pup who was tossed out with the trash when he was a kid. Momma, where did you go? It was more the fact of boredom.

What kind of woman would she need to be to see to all Lawless’ ticks and fancies? She’d never get any sleep. Same went for a male lover if he were tallying up life partner candidates.

He’d be the dickhead with one hundred cats who yelled at the neighborhood kids to stay off his fucking lawn.

The messy business of love was more trouble than it was worth, he reckoned.

Lawless was a Rubik’s cube. Many faces. Thousands of ways to solve his puzzle and no one ambidextrous enough to twist his way.

“So, I was thinking …” Alex mumbled hesitantly, looking Lawless directly in the eye.

Oh, here we go.

Lawless had operated him so fucking easily. Too easily really, it was boring. But he wouldn’t brag. Not yet. If he got cocky and this all went tits up he would have wasted three whole days and only got a mediocre come-load out of it.

Silence went on and on. Alex expecting him to fill the gap. Lawless just rolled up a brow.

“So, we had fun, right? And I was thinking maybe ...”

“Maybe what, Alex?”

Color rushed into the top of the man’s cheeks. Eyes darting around the bathroom. “Maybe you and I could, you know … like … get together sometime.” One. Two. three. Lawless counted in his head, keeping his face impassive.

The clank of the air conditioning.

The sound of his wife in the other room moving on the creaky bed frame.

Traffic noises from outside making their way through the single paned window.

“Just the two of us.”

Lawless snickered inside. The closet queer wanted more dicking. He had one pounding on his prostate and already panting for more.

“Soon changed your tune, Alex.” Poked Lawless. “Wasn’t an hour ago you said it wasn’t for you.” That was before the guy shot his load all over his wife’s belly when Lawless punched into his prostate with his cock.

Rub. Rub. The tension was abrasive in the miniscule bathroom with the dripping faucet and the cloying air sticking to the damp walls. Lawless enjoyed it inside his twisted, calculating mind more than he should. What was a little fun when you were wrecking a career… possibly a life? Ah well. The needs of the few outweigh those of the many and him and his boys were destined to always come out on top.

You mess with the Renegade Souls only the once then it’s; shit, you seem to have fallen on my sword.

He didn’t have anything personal against this poor, sexually frustrated schmuck, and nor his lovely wife. She was an innocent by product of her idiot husband’s lacking in morality and intelligence and in no way was Lawless and any complicit acts he had to do responsible for her being caught in the crossfire. A man protected his queen. So that was down to Alex.

To test the naughty maggot, he rolled his beefy shoulder, flexing the muscles along his veined forearms and watched the guy’s pupils expand with arousal.

Yeah, dude was a dick chaser. Lawless was like the pied piper for closet submissives these days.

“Yeah, well,” throat clear. “It was fun and all. And, shit. It doesn’t mean anything, right, if you’re with your woman. Like an orgy or something.”

And this guy oversaw millions of dollars. For fucks sake, Lawless almost laughed.

Instead he smirked darkly and rose to his height, he brought a hand out of his pocket, a little white pill between his fingers. The guy widened his eyes. “What’s this?”

“This, lover, is a big ball of fun. Just a little bit of speed to keep us going for a while, I’ve had mine. You want?”

Purposely he shifted his hulking size, pressing his chest to the other, lips curving in a smirk. Letting his offer swirl around the guy like erotic steam.

So easily swayed when he stupidly nodded.

Moron. Never trust a bald guy with bad-news in his eyes.

Lawless dropped the pill onto the popped-out tongue then handed him another before casting his lazy gaze down to the dick poking into his belly.

“You want my cock, Alex?” He asked.

Alex fused with embarrassed arousal. Lawless just bet no one ever asked him outright what he wanted. Secretive queers were exhausting.

He enjoyed what he enjoyed and didn’t give a fuck whether anyone had an opinion about it. His dick, his decision.

The guy nodded and made to move to touch Lawless. Bad fish. “Plenty of time for that, if you want some alone time with me soon.”

“Yeah, man. Yeah.”

Knowing he’d made another human squirm with only the slightest provocation aroused Lawless more than the mediocre climax had.

“Now, go use that big thing on your Mrs, and give her the bag of fun, too. And we’ll get cracking again. I want to really work you out this time.”

Jesus, if Lawless really was interested, this guy’s horny grunt would have done it for him.

But the agenda came first and soon as he heard the catty moans and fucking sounds from the next room he ran the faucet and waited.

Waited.

The noise began to taper off.

No grunts and creaks of the bed.

Game time. He rubbed his hands together and pulled the bathroom door open to find Alex unconscious between the thighs of his equally unconscious wife.

Surprise! Those pills weren’t speed.

At least when they awoke they could get right back to the dicking. Lawless was generous in his forward thinking.

Three days in the planning for this. Five days since he’d used his considerable hacking skills to track this punk down through the online footprints.

Alex Evanson. A boring 9-5 accountant with social media accounts for too many fetish websites who spent an exorbitant amount on queer porn every month. The same man Lawless digitally stalked through all his dirty business to understand how to best manipulate the fucker, was who now working the dirty money and made it all fresh and clean for Grigori Kuznetsov the Russian underboss and current pain in the ass to the Souls.

It wasn’t a chance meeting the other night seeing the couple in that bar.

Nor was it a coincidence how Lawless had charmed and made it very clear how he’d be down for some kinky fun as a threesome.

He’d fucked Zofia ten ways to Easter that night in a rent-by-the-hour motel room not unlike this one, with her randy hubby watching and beating his meat.

Another three days to set this whole little operation up.

Sure, he could have broken in to their house, but he’d seen how Alex carried all his electronic devices on him.

A magpie, indeed.

First things first.

He retrieved a cell phone, pocket book and a 7-inch tablet that wasn’t even password protected from Alex’s jacket. Idiot. Lazily sitting in the armchair, Lawless took his time to dig his sticky fingers through the devices.

And what do you know, the idiocy of the boring accountant with a dick fetish had all the Russian data right there in files sitting waiting for Lawless to come along and copy onto his SD card.

Within the hour he had what he needed and with one final flair for the dramatics he installed micro trojan viruses to scramble Alex’s devices and thus fucking up all of Grigori’s nicely guarded accounts. Fuck you, Russian.

He knew where Grigori’s money was coming from.

Where it was going and who was getting their cuts of the profits.

It was time to cut the snakes head off.

He was an outlaw, maybe one of the deadliest of his time. He loved his bag of toys and would probably weep a tear or three if he ever happened to lose it in an Uber (he didn’t use those kidnap wagons) but not all battles were won using brute force and rivers of blood.

Sometimes the battle had to come from sitting at a boardroom table. Or hacking an impenetrable operating system.

The smarter way to best an enemy was to cut them off at their weakest points, weaken the beast, kill the beast.

And if he wasn’t hitting some poor asshole then Lawless liked nothing better than using his substantial intelligence to play the odds and beat the house.

In this instance Grigori was the house and Lawless was cutting that fool down to size.

One dollar at a time.

Or maybe a few hundred million in a matter of seconds.

They were taking the Bratva down with money and not brute force. As Rider rightly stated when their plan was put into motion, they could easily kill Grigori. But organized crime soon rallied and his boss, Alexei, would have someone to take Grigori’s place in moments.

Nah, if they wanted the Russian mafia out of their territory it was only going to happen one way. And with a few clicks he was well on the way to draining the Russian’s funds he’d amassed in just a few months. The man was greedy. They’d known Grigori was only using the gambling as a stepping stone to bigger activities. And sure enough, if not for the RS having associates in the ports they’d never have known of how Grigori tried to bring his drug money through to clean it real nice on American soil.

Now Lawless was no stranger to cleaning dirty money. Truth be told their club was funded on how they moved money throughout the states and a few Arab emirate countries. The RS money was more travelled than Lawless was, that was a fact.

He wished he could be there to see Grigori’s pasty white face when he realized he was losing money hand over fist.

It was a good day to become richer, he figured.

He collected his jacket, slid it on with a shrug. He’d leave nothing of himself behind, having wiped down anything he’d touched after he’d slipped both phone and tablet back where he’d found them.

Without giving the comatose couple a glance, he left the motel room and walked relaxed around the back to his car. If they suspected David Tennant of rifling through their stuff they’d find no record of Lawless. Could he be blamed if those morons didn’t know Doctor Who?

Sliding in, he put the call through to the clubhouse to his president and chief.

His smirk was epic starting up his baby, giving it a little roar of her engine, she’d earned the pump of extra gas.

“Got him.”