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Wanted by the Biker: White Wolves MC by Evelyn Glass (44)


 

 

Sierra jerked awake at the sounds of arriving motorcycles, glancing at her watch as she blinked. It was nearly three in the morning, and she stretched and yawned as she struggled to throw off the clinging sleep. She wasn’t used to these late nights.

 

She and Perri had been dozing in a couple of large chairs, waiting for crew’s return, and the clubhouse was quiet as the seven members entered. Everyone was all smiles and she relaxed, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as Perri went to her man, molded herself into his arms, and kissing him with great intensity.

 

“Less than thirty-seconds,” Fletcher said as their lips parted.

 

Perri looked to Colt, who nodded. “That seems about right.”

 

“Ooh…sounds like I have some work to do tonight,” Perri purred, her voice dripping sex and promise.

 

Sierra kept her distance, wondering what the exchange was all about, but not wanting to break into the members’ reunion.

 

“Sierra, get everyone a beer,” Colt ordered as the crew moved to a table where they sat three sets of bags from the motorcycles.

 

As she pulled nine beers from the taps, she watched as Colt and Fletcher dumped an enormous pile of money on the table. More money than she’d ever seen. She brought five beers in one trip as the crew began to count, bringing the final four in a second. She sat down beside Colt and sipped her beer, watching the men and women count. She wanted to touch that much money just once in her life. “Can I help?”

 

Nobody said anything for a moment and she thought she was being ignored, but when Colt finished counting he wrote the number on a pad then tossed a rubber-banded stack to her. “Just write your count on my pad and grab another,” he said as he removed the rubber band from another stack and began to count.

 

By the time they finished the counting, twice, they realized they had taken $188,631. Sierra watched as Colt pounded on a calculator a moment and then began to count out seven stacks of eight thousand dollars for the crew’s thirty percent cut. Each person got an equal share, so in effect Harrison and McKenzie, Nic and Bobbi, got double. Sierra licked her lips, sixteen thousand dollars for less than a day’s work. She wanted a piece of that pie so badly she could taste it. She knew better than try to take some of tonight’s haul, certain that was a one-way ticket to a swift ass kicking, or worse. But if she could earn it somehow.

 

Colt slid the money to the various members of his team, put the remainder, along with the counts from the pads, into a heavy canvas bag, and locked it in the big safe sitting in the corner. “Come on,” he growled to Sierra as he headed for the door.

 

She trotted along behind him until she caught up. “Good night?”

 

He smiled at her. “Best take we’ve had yet. I figured a hundred grand, tops, but we got almost double that. We’re going to hit more carnivals, I think. I figured they would be cash rich, but I had no idea.”

 

“It doesn’t bother you? Stealing other people’s money?”

 

He looked at her. “Not my first choice, no. But I do what I have to to survive.”

 

“You could go straight. Get a job.”

 

He smiled as he opened the door to his trailer, but said nothing. He walked in, immediately turned on the air, and began to strip out of his clothes. Sierra waited, not sure what to do.

 

“You going to sleep in your clothes?” he asked.

 

With a small smile she began to undress, admiring Colt’s muscled ass as he moved to the back of the trailer. Dressed only in her panties and bra, she followed him, becoming wet just from the thought of what they were going to do. She was waiting for him as he exited the bathroom, lying on her side, knee bent, her hand resting on her hip as she propped her head on her other hand, her lack of clothing leaving nothing to the imagination.

 

He smiled at her as she lay on the bed. Her pose was a calculated move in sexuality, but her smile was what captured his eye. Natural and relaxed, it spoke of the pleasures he knew she was capable of giving a man. He’d thought of nothing but sleep when they had headed to the trailer, but as his cock began to rise, he decided a quickie wasn’t out of the question.

 

He lay down beside her on his back and she draped herself across him, lightly kissing his throbbing cock. Last night had been good, but hopefully now that she didn’t have to perform, he would see that she wanted to. She took him into her mouth and slowly began to drive him mad.

 

Colt took another deep breath, feeling his orgasm rising within him. He didn’t fight it, allowing it to flow over him. Where their previous session had been hard, fast and nasty, tonight it was slow, easy and, if how Fletcher, Nic and Harrison fucked their women was any clue, loving. He wondered what it would be like to have a woman who loved him, not for what he could do for her, but for who he was. Like Fletcher and Perri, especially. He could see it in their eyes every time they looked at each other.

 

She continued to work him over, taking her time, slowly increasing the pressure on him, listening to his breathing as it became harder and deeper. She felt him tighten as his orgasm began to take him and she pulled him out of her mouth, stroking him hard and fast, until he erupted with a grunt of completion.

 

He sighed as his climax faded, leaving him feeling relaxed and fulfilled. He knew he should do something for Sierra as she continued to slowly kiss and lick, cooing and purring over his cock. It came as a mild surprise that he even cared. He’d been blown dozens, maybe hundreds, of times without worrying about the woman, but before he could do anything, she turned and curled up in his arms.

 

She could sense the hesitation in Colt and his unwillingness to please her. She was disappointed but remembered that she was nothing but a plaything for him. She’d hoped that coming on to him, by pleasing him first, he would want to please her in return. Rather than risk his wrath by begging, she slowly pulled away from his still hard cock and snuggled into his arms. At least she could have this, the memory of a snuggle with a smoking hot biker to keep her warm once she was in Reno.

 

 

 

“Will you take me to Reno today?” she asked the next morning as they dressed. She’d thought they’d have a long slow fuck this morning before he sent her on her way, but, just like yesterday morning, he was cool and distant.

 

“Later, yes,” he said as he toweled his hair dry.

 

Last night, as he slept, the pile of cash kept invading her thoughts. If she could just get a piece of that before she left…

 

“Colt, what do I have to do to get in on one of your heists?”

 

“What?” he asked, not believing what he’d heard.

 

“I don’t have shit. When I get to Reno I’m going to be on the street. I—”

 

“You’re the one who wanted to go,” he reminded her.

 

“I know. And I do. Any place is better than Gallup. But I want a stake so I can get an apartment. Have food until I find a job. I don’t want to end up turning tricks to feed myself.”

 

Colt paused in brushing his hair, thinking about what she said. That had hit a little close to home. “Look, I’ll give you a couple hundred bucks to get you started, okay.”

 

“Thanks, but I don’t want your money. And you know as well as I do that two hundred isn’t going to do shit for me. Thanks all the same. Let me hang around and come on your next run. I’ll do anything. Just let me get a cut from one run. That’s all I need. Please. I’ll make it worth your time, I promise. I’ll pay you for the gas and maybe give you some ass, too. I’ll pay you to take me to Reno. Just give me a chance.”

 

He looked at her. She looked so hopeful, and yet pitiful, at the same time. “Sierra, right now you’re clean. You have no record. Why do you want to get mixed up in this?”

 

“I won’t have a record if we don’t get caught. Colt, I have nothing. No job, no car, no place to live, no food, no money, no nothing. I want to go to Reno, get a fresh start, but I need something to start with. Please, Colt. Let me go just once. I’ll do anything. I can play fight or hold a gun, whatever you want.

 

He stared at her. “You? A gun?”

 

She gritted her teeth. She hated that condescending tone. She had been putting up with it all her life and she was sick of it. She reached over and grabbed his gun, pulled it from the holster, then marched out of the trailer.

 

Colt nearly shit when Sierra grabbed the gun, but she made no move to point it at him before turning and stomping away. He quickly pulled on pants and a shirt, and hurried after her, but she was nowhere in sight when he stepped out of the trailer. He looked around the end of his trailer and saw her marching away into the desert, his Glock in one hand and what appeared to be a beer can from the box of empties by his door in the other. He trotted after her, catching her as she threw the can into the dirt.

 

“Where’s the safety?” she asked as she turned the gun one way then the other, looking it over and pulling the slide back to see if one was in the pipe.

 

“It’s a Glock. The safety is in the trigger.”

 

Sierra grunted, pulled the weapon up as her father had shown her, and squeezed the trigger. She missed low and left, adjusted her aim, and squeezed again. The can popped into the air. When it landed, the gun barked again and the can spun in a circle. The gun roared a fourth time and dirt just in front of the can splattered.

 

The gun had a lot more kick than the .22 her father let her shoot, but the skills were the same. She loved plinking at cans and bottles with her dad. Though it was fun, he’d stressed she needed to learn to protect herself. She was an American, and if the Coyotes came for her she was to use the little gun to escape. That was the only possession she owned that she was going to miss.

 

She shoved the gun back into Colt’s hands and stood there glaring at him. The can wasn’t far, maybe ten feet, but Sierra clearly knew what she was doing. Still…The gun popped up and Colt fired off the remainder of the magazine, the can spinning and jumping, never still until the gun clicked on empty.

 

“Where’d you learn to shoot?” Colt asked, tucking the firearm into his belt.

 

“My papa. We used to go out and shoot cans.”

 

“Where’s your family now?”

 

She looked down. “I don’t know. The INS picked them up a few years ago. I kept thinking they would write, or something, tell me where they were, but…” She shrugged.

 

“You legal?”

 

“I’m a fucking American, you asshole. I was born in San Diego. Just because I have brown skin doesn’t make me a wetback. You know what, fuck you! Just take me to Reno.”

 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything,” he said, making placating gestures with his hands. “You said your family was picked up by INS. What did you expect me to think? So they smuggled in before you were born?”

 

“Yeah. Then the Coyotes came back, looking for more money. Papa had this little .22 he gave me, in case they tried…anything.”

 

“How did you end up in Gallup?”

 

Sierra snorted. “Car broke down. We didn’t have the money to fix it and we were stuck. I finished high school there. Then INS picked them up and I was left to fend for myself. That’s why I need the money, Colt. I have about one-fifty in my savings and nothing else. Everything I make goes to keeping me fed and clothed with a roof over my head. I work my ass off, six days a week, sometimes seven. And for what? That’s why I want to go to Reno, or Vegas, anywhere but Gallup.” She looked up a Colt and fought her tears. “I just want a chance.”

 

“Come on,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her back to the clubhouse. “I’ll take you to Reno.”

 

“You won’t let me stay? You won’t let me go on a heist with you? I’ll give you half my cut! Please, Colt, just give me the chance. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll clean and cook. I’ll let you take me as often as you want.” She began to cry as her desperation began to overwhelm her. “Won’t you please just give me the chance?”

 

“I’ll take you Reno, but that’s the best I can do.”

 

She hardened her heart, her tears evaporating almost instantly in the parched desert air. He’s just like everyone else. All I want is a chance!

 

 

 

Sierra sat, glaring at Colt as he horsed around with members of the club. She couldn’t get the thought of the money out of her head and wondered if there was some way to get someone to open the safe for her. She would do anything to get that money, fucking the entire club if she had to.

 

“You okay?” Bobbi asked sitting down beside her.

 

“No.”

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Colt is being an ass.”

 

Bobbi laughed. “He can be that. But you won’t have put up with him much longer. Don’t you leave today?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You don’t seem that happy about it.”

 

“It’s not that. When I get to Reno, I don’t know what I’m going to do for money. He’s going to turn me out onto the street without shit.”

 

“So go back home.”

 

Sierra snorted. “That’s even worse.”

 

Bobbi nodded slowly. “I know how that feels. I can’t go home either.”

 

“Oh? Why?”

 

“Let’s just say that my father and I don’t see eye to eye on anything and leave it at that. What about you?”

 

“No family. I’m working my ass off and yet I can’t catch a break. If I don’t get out of there, I’m going to die broke and alone. I want to do something with my life, and the first step of that is to get out of Gallup.”

 

Bobbi nodded. She understood that completely. Her dad wanted her to get married and start a family. That was a woman’s role. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. Well fuck that! She stood and smiled down at Sierra. “Come on, lunch will be up in a few minutes.”

 

Sierra rose and followed Bobbi to the tables where burgers were being passed out. She sat down next to Colt but stared at the table, her face hard. She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t give her a break. She sat silent, listening to the banter around her as the crew shared the details of the run the previous night. As they talked about finding the gun inside the safe, she had an idea.