“Look at you. Ready for some kind of Easter parade. R-rated for sure, but I guess if it nets us the story….”
Dawn scrunched her nose at the sight of Michael Adams, chief editor, wanting nothing more than to snag the scoop on the Alphas. The man practically drooled, as he looked up and down her legs and curled his fingers behind his neck. She knew that he swung the other way, and even if it was Vermont, Dawn kept his secret close to her figurative vest. The boys bent over his desk were his own affair, literally. She flashed him her thigh in an effort to keep the reel running before pinching his cheek and rubbing her hand on his back.
“I have a tale to tell,” she said. “But let’s get inside first.”
Michael took her by the arm and eased her past empty desks with monitors resting on a low hum. She saw her own space, dotted with abandoned water bottles and dried up pens. She never thought to replace the empties and only moved to the closet in search of fresh ink. Up until this moment, she had scribbled nothing but notes pertaining to farmer’s markets or whether or not the Plainfield Plough would crack the secret of Audra Miller’s converted colonial selling books instead of just lending them out. Word around town was that the woman was hurting for cash, but why was that a story? Nothing more than the history of Hayek’s. Everyone, even the Alphas, had to need a few extra bucks in their bag, and harassing a little old lady was far from her idea of real reporting.
Getting in with the Alphas was another matter altogether.
“Sit,” Michael said. “Want some scotch?”
A beer would feel and taste so much better, but Dawn needed something, and she nodded her head as he sloshed a few drops of amber liquid into a stained glass and handed the cup over.
“Drink up, dynamo.”
The scotch burned down her throat, and Dawn choked the taste down as a new buzz hit her brain. If she blinked, Pub 22 seemed like ages ago, with Cade Everett holding her close to his side as he made moves that seemed to bat every danger from her side. It was a total turn on.
“So you really think there’s something to the club being back in Plainfield?” Dawn asked, as she polished off her drink and stretched her hand forward in search of a refill.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened first?” Michael asked.
Needing the drink, she thought of telling him that there was trouble at the Pub. More than they had suspected with just a few feelers in the wind. Rivals appeared before Cade Everett had a chance to be suspicious. Why had they only sent two crew members to size the place out? And what would they have done to her if…
“We…we aren’t the only ones that know the Alphas are back around these parts.”
Michael lifted his eyebrows and finally refilled her glass, as she gulped gratefully. He settled behind his desk and kicked his heels to his blotter, as he poured out his own glass and sipped slowly.
“Told you there was a story here, Sawyers,” he said.
Definitely a story. Yet, all she had to show for her outfit and her efforts was a body aching to know the blonde man again. Would Michael let her go back if he thought she was only trying to get her rocks off?
“I…there were two guys,” she quickly said. “Not invited. I got that much from the way Cade looked at—”
“Hold up a second.”
He pulled on his glass again before tapping his fingers to his keyboard. Dawn worked to keep her knees from knocking together, as she spied her hem having moved past her legs. Just touching her limbs, she sighed at the memory of Cade’s hands and longed for his touch again. The sound of Michael’s fingers fell away, as she pictured Cade’s blue eyes. She shouldn’t want him this much, not when she had only just met him and had some idea who and what he was. But he felt so good and a small part of her liked the danger and wanted only for more. Suddenly, Michael snapped his fingers before her eyes and smirked softly.
“Not getting too close to the story, are you?” Dawn gripped the glass in her hands and felt sure that it would splinter around her hand in a million shards when Michael topped the rim off and raised his own glass in the way of a slow toast. “I could always put someone on the beat if it gets to be too much for you.”
“Don’t you even try that.” Flinging the glass aside, Dawn stretched to her feet and pushed her hands to her hips. “I was born to land this story,” she said. “And if you think that anyone else can do a better job, then I suggest you just call them up and—”
“Dawn, let’s just calm down here.”
He pushed away from his desk and took her into his arms. Dawn sighed at the feel of his skin on her cheek, and he tousled her short locks before stretching back to meet her gaze.
“No one but you can get this right,” he said. “You know I mean that.”
He hugged her hard, and Dawn relaxed around his touch. Michael had always done right by her. He gave her tasks that she had no business having, and Dawn brought the words to life as she moved up the ranks. In quiet moments like this, he always told her that he needed nothing more than one big story to put his name on the map. The Alphas, their long history, and why the club fled only to fly back were the ticket and then some. He called them villains hiding in plain sight, and something in those words drew her to the club. Dark souls were always the most intriguing….
“So what happened at the Pub?” he asked.
Dawn relaxed in his arms and let him lower her body into the spare chair. Extending her arm for another drink, she belted back a swallow of scotch and felt her tongue growing loose as she sat up straighter.
“Alphas don’t take kindly to outsiders,” she started.
“Knew that much already,” Michael countered. “Please don’t tell me that’s what I’m paying you for.”
“Careful,” Dawn cautioned. “Wouldn’t want to see your workman’s comp rates shoot through the roof. Michael cocked his head to the side, puzzled, as Dawn lowered her leather jacket and revealed the bruise on her wrist from the place where George had grabbed her, labeling her one mouthy bitch that needed to get on his tab if she wanted to work her way through the front door and have any hope of staying.
“Who’s responsible for that?” Michael asked, his tone turning protective, as he pushed back from behind his desk and tried to take hold of her injured flesh. “Was it Everett?”
“What…no,” Dawn said. “One of the underlings. Big guy. Goes by George.”
“How the hell did you get out of it?” Dawn reflected with a soft, strange smile back to the biker who made it seem like it would be nothing to toss her over his shoulder. Maybe have his way with her, snap her in two, possibly both. Even the little guy at his side seemed powerless to help her in any way, even as his eyes burned. However, Dawn had never been one to wait around for any man’s aid. Better to know how to get the job done on one’s own if need be.
“Chalk it up to basic self-defense,” Dawn said. “You should see his arm. Along with the rest of his junk.” Dawn had no desire to lay her eyes on either appendage, but she’d seen the rage in his eyes when Cade walked her out. She had nothing to fear from the Alphas, as long as she had the blonde biker on her side.
“Screw workmen’s comp,” Michael said, as he perched on the edge of his desk, his eyes still tinged with a trace of worry as he spoke. “When the truth comes out, watch the boys slap us with a lawsuit.”
“Somehow they don’t strike me as a litigious bunch,” Dawn said. “They put two and two together, and we’ll have other worries.”
“Stay the course,” Michael reminded her. “Not an exposé per se. I just want to shed some light on the inner-workings. The final draft maintains anonymity. Just the implication of the blood and whatever bodies they have buried will be more than enough.”
“And why they pulled up their stakes in the first place,” Dawn said. “Something tells me that’s the real story.”
“Might be,” Michael agreed. “But watch yourself. Last thing I want to see is another bruise on you. Or something worse.” Dawn lightly patted his leg and softly shook her head.
“I’ll be fine. Can always put up my dukes, right?” she teased, as she curled her hands into fists.
“Like even you could take the whole club on,” Michael said.
“Won’t have to,” Dawn assured him. “Got Cade Everett in my corner.”
“Really?” Michael queried, as he arched his eyebrow. “How did you manage that?” Again Dawn let her mind drift to the memory of his cock consuming her cunt, as she stared into his steely blue eyes. No way she could tell Michael the truth. He’d call it a breach of all kinds of etiquette and would probably say that she was compromising the story altogether.
And he would make her bow out before she even got started, fearing for her safety, saying her life was worth more than any words on the page.
“It was nothing,” she lied. “Think he just liked showing off in front of his rivals. Some men kind of get off on looking like a hero.”
“So you will be seeing him again?” Michael asked.
“Going back tomorrow,” Dawn said. “Of course, I’ll have to do a little shopping first. The only thing in my closet that’s his speed is right here.”
“I don’t know,” Michael said. “Maybe he’ll think you’re like a superhero or something. Make it like that’s your uniform or whatever.”
“Not like I’m not rocking a secret identity, right?”
“A little bit, no?”
Michael started to pace his office when he suddenly stopped in his tracks and pressed his palms into the air.
“Hope you didn’t give them your real name,” Michael said.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” she cried, as she shot up from her chair. “What you take me for? Some cub reporter?”
“Of course not,” Michael said, as he took her hands. “I know you’re a pro. I just worry when it comes to my best.”
“Thanks for that, Boss,” Dawn said returning his kiss with a soft peck on his cheek. A long yawn left her lips, and Dawn stretched her bruised arms over her head, her head turning to see the sky growing even darker through the window, as she collected her leather jacket with a weary sigh. “Am I off the clock now? I could do with some shuteye.”
Not entirely a lie. But more than that, Dawn longed to slip under her sheets and slide her hand between her legs. A shower could wait until morning. For this night, she wanted to touch the place where his cock has claimed her and moan into the memory of what it was to be with him. Collecting all the facts aside, could she get back to that place at least one more time before she put the story to bed, or he got wise? Praying for the former, hoping that the latter never came to pass, she waited until Michael nodded.
“Think you’ve put in an honest day’s work,” he said, as he ushered her to his door.
“Not exactly,” Dawn said. “But it’s the gig.”
He walked her to the main door, pausing with one hand on her arm as he pinched her cheek.
“So what’s on tomorrow’s menu?” he asked. “A little shopping? And then back on the beat?”
“That’s the plan. I’ll be in and out,” Dawn said. She pulled away from him, nearly out the door when his nails grazed the space of her palm, and she looked back over his shoulder into his eyes. “One more thing?” she asked.
“Just…just promise me that you’ll watch your step,” he said. “Don’t get into anything that you can’t handle.” Dawn playfully punched his jaw, as she fluffed her hair and flashed him a bright grin.
“No worries,” Dawn said. “I can take care of myself.” With a little help from the beautiful blonde biker, she thought.