“Wait, what do you mean we have to change the plan? Everything is set!”
“No, we can’t. We don’t have enough time. It’s too late.”
“What the fuck happened? What are we going to do?”
Joel listened to the tirade with as much patience as he could muster. Tucker, Hot Wheels, Viper, and Honey all stood in a unified line of disbelief and anger, and he couldn’t blame them. He spared a brief moment wishing that the Cruiser’s president, Carrigan, was back and could deal with this shit but he was halfway across the country dealing with his own, and so it fell to him.
“Enough!” Joel said, not loudly, but hard and sharp enough that it cut through the others’ words and they fell away like wisps of cobwebs. “Enough,” he repeated, a little softer. A little. He spared a glance at Carla who was still sitting where he’d left her, her arms crossed in front of her chest in a protective gesture, her face still white, but at least there was a little more fight in her blue eyes, and little less fear.
“Carla just tipped me off. The police are investigating the missing shipment.” He could see the sudden relief in her face and his anger tightened as he realized she’d still been worried he would put the blame on her and call her out for failing. He gave a mental shake of his head. She would learn soon enough, but now wasn’t the time. They had to hustle if they were going to have any chance to save this operation.
“We need to flip the shipment. Now.” There was an instant reaction at his words.
“What? That’s impossible–”
“There’s no way, boss–”
“You’re fucking crazy, man. That’s not gonna happen–”
Once again, he let it wash over him. They knew the stakes just as well as him and he let them vent for another moment before reigning it back in.
“Listen, we need a new plan. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s what we’ve got to work with. You should be thanking Carla for tipping us off. Without her we would still be flying blind.” He’d thrown the last in at the end, just to see her eyes widen in shock on him but he couldn’t let it affect him. He was serious. They were out of time, and they needed to move now.
“Any ideas?” he said, and the members looked at him solemnly but silently and the minutes ticked by intolerably. “Fuck, anyone?” He finally snapped, the frustration of the situation getting to him and he immediately regretted it as he saw Carla flinch in the side of his vision.
“Well, it’s a stretch, and we’d still have to get it across state lines, but I know some people that could buy. It might not go for as much as we hoped but at least we would make a profit and get it off our hands. I’ll reach out to my contact,” Hot Wheels suggested and everyone nodded eagerly at her plan.
“Do it,” Joel said, “Tuck, you make sure everything is in order to get across the state line.” Tucker gave a two finger salute and walked stolidly away after Hot Wheels. “Viper, I need you to check the shipment. You know where it’s being held. Make sure everything is ready, we’re gonna need to move as soon as we can.”
Viper grinned with sudden excitement and ran out next as he turned to the last man in the room. “Honey, I need you to keep things quiet. Make sure none of this gets out and if it does, spin it. Say we hit the jackpot and the plan is moving ahead early. Say whatever you need to keep the peace. Got it?”
“I got it, boss,” Honey said, as he turned away as well. He was the bartender at the clubhouse, but he was also a lot more than that. Informant, spy--he had the ear of everyone in the gang and he could use it turn them whichever way Joel needed.
Finally, with a new plan at least set in motion he felt like he could breathe easy for the first time since Carla had burst into the club house to announce that the police were involved and that their original plan was suddenly shot to shit.
The thought of her had him turning, she was still sitting there, her hands still trembling from the aftermath of her confrontation with Maurice.
“Hey, why don’t I give you a ride home,” he suggested suddenly. It was obvious she was in no shape to drive.
“But, my truck?”
“Don’t worry about it. I can have someone drop it off later.” He reached out a hand and reacted fiercely when she slid her palm against his with no hesitation, trusting him completely. He grinned suddenly. “Have you ever ridden on a bike?”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head, “No. No, I haven’t.”
“Come on. You’re gonna love it.” She hesitated for a moment. “Trust me.” At his words, her expression cleared, calmed, and she nodded her ascent as he led her outside. She gave him the address of her house and he nodded, pulling his bike over so she could get on.
“Hold on a minute,” Carla said, running to her truck, swinging the passenger door open, and returning a moment later to hand him the keys and something else. It was his leather jacket, folded into the neatest square. He shook his head and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he shook it out and held it out to Carla, once more offering it to her. She gave him a questioning look and he shrugged, for the first time that he could remember in his entire life, feeling self-conscious.
“It’s for protection, on the bike. Come on, just put it on.” He shook it at her again and, with a small smile, slid one arm in the too-big sleeve, and then the other. He stared at her, fighting the unfamiliar sensation of nerves and he hid it by putting the spare helmet on her head and buckling the strap. All the while she stood there, proud and excited and so beautiful it was hard for him to look at her.
Hastily, he threw on his own helmet and straddled the bike before showing her how to get on, where to put her feet. He groaned silently as her arms slid around his waist and he could feel the lush, firm globes of her breasts pressed against his back and he instantly regretted his decision. But at the same time, he reveled in the delicious contact. It just wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.
“Are you ready?” Joel yelled out behind him as he revved the engine to life.
“What?” Carla yelled back, trying to understand him over the noise.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah!” the word was lost in a squeal of laughter as he pushed the throttle and pulled out of the lot, a part of him knew it was petty, but he was unable to keep the smile off his face at the sound of her delighted scream. And the feel of her holding on even tighter didn’t hurt, either.
The drive was almost an hour, made longer by the less direct route Joel took, trying to stretch each second into eternity, but all too soon they pulled in front of her house. It wasn’t in the best neighborhood, to say the least. and there was something about the tiny, dilapidated house that reminded him of his past. A past that was always with him no matter how hard he tried to forget, to leave it behind.
He slowed the bike to a stop in the cracked driveway, and threw down the kickstand before helping her off the motorcycle. His hands on her hips tightened of their own accord and he held her closer, unwilling or just unable to let her go. At least, not without a taste. Before he even realized what he was doing, his lips dropped to hers. He groaned when she leaned eagerly into him, slanting her mouth across his as they danced together, drugging him.
He slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for entrance and she opened for him without hesitation. She was so sweet--unbearably sweet--and so addicting he didn’t want to stop. He wanted more. So much more. Carla’s movements against him drove him wild and he pushed her harder against the bike to keep her still with one hand while the other slid up from her hip, across her rib cage, and curled around her shoulder to spear into her hair to hold her head still for his onslaught.
Lust like a monsoon, more powerful than he’d ever experienced before threatened to drown him at her sweet, willing response and he knew if he didn’t stop soon he would take her then and there.
It took every ounce of willpower he had to pull away from her and they were both panting as if they’d run for miles. He rested his forehead against hers, fighting against his body’s instincts, until finally he stood and released her.
“Bye, Carla,” he forced out the words, barely able to speak past the desire running rampant through his system. She gave him a shy wave, her fingers touching her kiss-swollen lips and he almost took them again. With a growl he forced himself to turn away and swing his legs once more over the waiting bike. He had to adjust himself and gave up, resigned to the uncomfortable ride ahead of him. He was about to take off when her voice stopped him.
“Hey, wait!” She walked towards him, then slid off the jacket and held it out to him. He took it without a word, put it on and cursed himself as her warmth surrounded him, just as her scent did. It was a part of the jacket now, he thought. That rich, earthy, sweet smell of her. He forced himself not to look back as he drove away, the scent of her torturing him the rest of the ride back to the clubhouse.