I park by the entrance to the trail. Marie texted me earlier today saying she had something to show me after the Death Dealers party she went to last night. I had meetings all day I couldn't get out of without looking suspicious, so it's already dark now.
I clench the wheel as I wait for her to show up. Thinking of her last night at that fucking place was torture. The truth is, I haven't slept well for days. The longer she's undercover, the more danger she's in. Hopefully whatever she has to show me tonight will be enough evidence and then we can pull her. I don't want to have to take the next step that Lieutenant Ebert is pushing.
I glance in my rearview as two headlights come into view and I recognize the junk heap I bought for Marie. I can just see her silhouette in the moonlight as she walks toward my car. I try not to notice the way her t-shirt hangs on her breasts, but it's useless to deny my feelings for her at this point. Especially after I kissed her.
She opens the passenger side door and slips into the seat. "It's good to see you," she says with a smile.
"You, too."
"How was the party?"
"Pretty wild," she says, looking down at her hands. "But I was able to take advantage and sneak my way into the basement. There's a big meeting room down there, that's where I think they have church," she tells me, meaning the MC's mandatory meetings. "And then off that room, there's another smaller area that has a cell in it. That's where I saw him," she tells me, taking out her phone and showing me a picture.
"Who's that?" I ask frowning, peering at the photos as she scrolls.
"A brother," she tells me. "His name's Uncle, I saw it on his vest. I asked Candice about him today, and she said he was really nice, laid-back, but she hasn't seen him at the Keep much."
"Yeah, I remember his file. Arrested a few times for narcotics possession," I tell her. "Looks like someone beat the shit out of him."
"Since he was in the Death Dealers' cell, I bet it was one of them. So?" she prods me.
"So what?
"So that's unlawful imprisonment, assault…"
"What are the chances he's still there?"
"Well…"
"And these pictures, they're not enough for a warrant. They could be from anywhere. No one saw you take them?"
"Not take them, no. That brother named Ford saw me leaving, but he bought my story."
"Then they've definitely moved him by now. And even if we could talk to Uncle, even after taking a beating like that, there's no way he'd rat on his brothers." Marie crosses her arms over her chest, looking frustrated. I reach out for her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to shoot you down. I'm just being honest with you. I've tried to get a dozen warrants against these animals and I know how tough it is. And I know you're working hard."
"It's fine. I just wish there were something I could do to help that guy. I hated leaving him there," she replies.
"Of course." I pull my hand back, feeling how touching her is sending my body temperature through the roof. "There was a double homicide in Fort Brynard yesterday," I tell her.
"Shit," she swears, looking stricken.
"Just two blocks from the station. The place is going to hell." I lean back in my seat and stare at the moon for a moment.
"There's something you're not telling me," she guesses.
I nod. "Lieutenant Ebert is off the wall. He's seen how good his town used to be, and where it is now, and he feels powerless. He…he wants you to get more aggressive."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning…he wants you to volunteer to be a sweet butt. He says he thinks now that you've made contact, that some of the brothers know you, you've got a good shot. And by being a sweet butt, you could be around the compound all the time, and you could find a way to get some hard evidence."
Marie takes a deep breath. "I was afraid of that."
"You know how I feel about this," I tell her. "Anytime you want to quit…"
"I know," she tells me. To my shock, she leans over and rests her head on my shoulder.
"Marie…"
"Hush."
"I just feel like I can't control myself around you."
"Who says you have to?" she murmurs, sliding her hand across my chest. It's like something is released inside me. I bend down and kiss her, hard. My tongue presses inside her mouth, and I know there's no stopping now. My hands move under her shirt, palming her breasts. They feel as good as they look, and her nipples grow hard against my skin.
She reaches away, and suddenly her seat dips backward, and she's lying horizontal on top of it. I quickly move over the console between us, and feel her unzipping my jeans and pushing them down. I pull her shirt up to her armpits and yank her bra down. I pull one of her pink, swollen nipples into my mouth, and suck. She groans and arches her back, and reaches for my cock, freeing it from my boxers.
"I don't have a condom," I realize suddenly.
"I'm clean, and I'm on birth control. You?"
"Clean."
"Do it. Hard," she urges me. I don't need another word of encouragement. I swiftly yank her underwear and yoga pants to her knees, take my cock in my right hand, and find her opening. Fuck, she's already so wet. As I thrust inside her, she cries out. Her hips rise to meet mine as I drive inside her again and again. I've thought about this moment ever since I met Marie, and I never thought it would happen in my car like this, but I've also never been so turned on.
She grabs the headrest and hangs on so that I don't push her right into the backseat, and locks her ankles under my ass. I grit my teeth to try to make it last longer, but I'm already so close. She lets out a strangled cry and I feel her muscles spasm around my cock as she comes. I couldn't hold on any longer if I wanted to. I release myself inside of her with a groan.
I collapse on top of her, breathing hard, but I don't want to crush her. I carefully extricate myself from her limbs and awkwardly find my way back to sitting in the driver's seat. Marie grabs her purse and pulls out tissues, handing one to me and using the other on herself.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, as she raises the seat and pulls her pants back up and her shirt down.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"You said we shouldn't do anything because we work together and then I pushed you into it."
"You didn't push me," I tell her, but she won't meet my eyes.
"I think I did," she says, opening up the car door.
"Marie…" I say, reaching out for her hand.
"Don't worry, I'll get the evidence you need," she says, and shuts the door.
"Wait!" I call after her, but she's running back to her car. I slam my hand down onto the steering wheel. Her headlights turn back on, and I watch her leave. I pick up my phone and quickly text her: At least promise me you'll be careful.
I sit there waiting for ten minutes for a response, but she doesn't reply.