Page 15 of Sinful Deeds
Chainz
My fingers peck atthe keyboard of the computer, trying to navigate the databases Hound has installed on the laptop. A name search returns very few hits on Raven, which makes me wonder if it’s even her actual name. I rub my fingers across my forehead, trying to ease the ache building and pinch my eyes closed. I’ve been at this for hours and I haven’t turned up anything useful. This is Hounds domain. He’s a whizz behind the screen. The skills he learned as a Marine Corps Cyber Network Operator puts an entire population of tech savvy kids to shame. How he went from working cyber security for the government to be an outlaw biker, I don’t know. Digging in a brother’s past isn’t something you do unless you’re invited to. Whatever his reasons, it’s worked out well for the club. Given time, he can dig up almost anything on anyone. But my dumb ass sent him with Crusher, leaving me to attempt this on my own.
I fold the screen down and lean back in the chair, kicking my legs up onto the corner of the desk. My mind drifts back to the girl I left alone in my room, picturing Raven asleep on the same pillow I rest my head on gets me hard as fuck. There’s been a revolving door of whiskey and whores for so long now, every one of them drags me further into this dark hell I can’t climb out of. None of them stay longer than I need to get off. I learned the hard way you can’t trust a woman. They’re manipulative liars and I vowed to never again make the mistake of letting one into my heart. Yet I want to hope like hell that Raven is different. When she told me she sidelined Fuel, all bets were off. I can’t deny the electricity that courses through me when she’s near. I can’t pretend I don’t want her. I won’t deny my craving for her. Her lips. Her body. Her fucking soul. They belong to me now. Just kissing her made my fucking toes curl. She may not know what she did when she parted her lips, but it won’t be long before she’s parting her legs for me too. Raven is mine. Mine to mark. Mine to claim.
The need to taste her again, pulses through my limbs. The throbbing ache in my head shifts to my cock. Reaching into my pants like an awkward teenage boy desperate for relief, I wrap my hand around it. Pumping and pulling at the thought of her mouth wrapped around me. Before I can find my release, my fantasy fades behind the bright red flashing lights of the silent alarm.
Hound designed and installed the alarm system to warn the club of trouble. We can access it from three panels, one at the gate, one behind the bar and one in the command center. I tuck myself back in my pants and prepare for whatever’s coming.
When I reach the Rec Room, I spot Freedom, Taz and Gunner stashing weapons and other illegal substances. At the rate the wails of the sirens are increasing, we have five minutes until they breach our door.
Call it instinct, call it a hunch, either way it hit me in the gut with a single punch. I call out to Tank, “Hide her.”
Tank nods his head in understanding. My order to protect her at all costs means just that. Even if it costs us our lives or freedom. Tank rushes the stairs and disappears behind the door to my crash room. The police are past Tornado at the guard gate, and they’re not fucking around. Booming fills my ears as a battering ram connects with the door. I close my hand over the handle as they make another attempt to break the door. Timing their movements, I wait until I hear them shift back to take another run at the door, yanking it open seconds before contact. Momentum carries them in a forward motion, forcing them to dig their heels in and pull the ram straight up or fall on their faces. I sneer at the uniform men barging through the open door behind them.
“ATF, put your hands on the wall.” The last agent through the door yells.
I comply out of preservation. We’re useless to Fuel behind bars. I turn, splaying my hands against the concrete wall. Freedom, Taz, Gunner, Cat and Mercy follow my lead. Hands grab my wrists and twist my arms behind my back, slapping cold metal cuffs around them.
“Who’s in charge here?” The largest of the four agents asks.
I turn to face him. My eyes follow the silver chain that hangs around his neck down to the badge against his chest. The urge to twist it around his neck and ram his badge down his fucking throat takes root. “I am.”
The agent eyes the President badge on my cut. “We’re looking for a fugitive.”
“Can you be more specific? Look around asshole, this isn’t a den of boy scouts.”
He steps to me. That’s right, motherfucker, come closer. This is my fucking turf. The glint in his eye begging for a fight. His hands slap against the top of my shoulders and presses down. “On your knees.”
Taking a move out of Crushers playbook, I lean forward, ramming my head into his nose before taking a knee. Blood rushes down his face, dripping onto his shoes. With the back of his hand, he wipes at his broken nose, flinging blood splatter to the ground. “Tear this place apart until you find her or bring me something I can haul his ass in on.”
I clench my fists behind my back, my nails stinging into the soft flesh of my palms while the agents storm the compound destroying shit in their wake. The asshole agent climbs the stairs and my heart slams against my rib cage. Tank better not let me down.
Chapter 11
Raven
