Page 63 of Rebel

“You can have all of me, but I don’t want to rush through our first time together.”

She smiled and nipped at my shoulder.“Such a gentleman.”

“Only with you.”

I took my time teasing her, kissing her.I savored every second.When I finally slid my dick into her, she clung to me, her face buried against my neck.

“Dixon,” she breathed, my name a plea on her lips.

We moved together in the darkness, finding a rhythm that built and crashed like waves on the sand.I watched her face as she came apart beneath me, her gaze locked on mine, trusting me to catch her as she fell.Feeling her squeeze my cock was enough to make me follow her over the edge, her name on my lips like a prayer as I came inside her.

Afterward, we lay tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back.The world outside still existed -- Java still missing -- but for now, in this room, there was only us.

“You okay?”I asked quietly.

She nodded against my chest.“Better than okay.”

I pressed my lips to the top of her head.“Get some sleep.Tomorrow’s going to be rough.”

“I know.”Her voice was already heavy with exhaustion.“We’ll find him, Dixon.”

“Yeah,” I said, staring at the ceiling.“We will.”

I didn’t sleep much that night.Just watched the shadows move across the ceiling, listened to Rio’s steady breathing, and planned our next move.If Java was at the old mill, we’d need to be smart about this.No rushing in half-cocked.Too much at stake.

But for now, I’d enjoy this time with Rio and see what Charming could find out about the old mill.

Chapter Fifteen

Rio

The back room of the Devil’s Boneyard clubhouse smelled like old leather and cigarettes.I sat in the corner, trying to make myself invisible while keeping my ears open.Rebel had insisted it was okay for me to be here, but I didn’t know why.None of the other old ladies were here.In fact, Jordan had told me they pretty much were never allowed in these meetings.

Charming sat across from the Bratva man, his face a mask that gave nothing away.This wasn’t a social call.This was business -- dangerous business.

The overhead light was dim, casting shadows across the wooden table.Charming’s fingers tapped an irregular rhythm against his whiskey glass.The Bratva emissary -- a compact man with ice for eyes -- hadn’t touched his drink.

“So,” Charming finally said, breaking the silence.“You’ve come a long way just to talk.”

The Bratva man’s lips barely moved when he spoke.“We don’t waste trips, Halden.”

I fought to keep my expression neutral.Rebel had explained that all the men here used their road names.Only their families were supposed to use their real name.Halden Roberts was the man before the cut, before the presidency.

“Then let’s not waste time,” Charming replied, his voice deceptively casual.He had presence that men half his age would kill for.The gray streaking his hair only added to it.I’d never admit it to Rebel, or his wife, but the man was still sexy.“You’ve got information on Java.”

It wasn’t a question.It was the only reason any of us would be sitting here with a Bratva emissary, sipping whiskey in a back room while the party raged on the other side of the wall.

“We know where he is being held.”The man’s accent was barely perceptible, which somehow made him more unsettling.“And who holds him.”

I shifted in my chair, earning a quick glance from Charming that told me to be still.I forced myself to breathe evenly.Java had been missing for ten days.The club had been turned upside down searching for him.Every connection tapped, every favor called in.And nothing.Until now.

The emissary placed his hands flat on the table.“Your brother has managed to anger some very dangerous people, Mr.President.”

“He tends to do that,” Charming said, his tone dry.“But he’s still one of mine.”

“Of course.”The man inclined his head slightly.“Family is everything.This is something we understand.”

A patched member -- I thought they called him Gator -- stood by the door, arms crossed.His face was impassive, but his eyes never left the Bratva man’s hands.Smart.

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