Unattainable (3 page)

As much as I wanted to hate Deuce, I
couldn’t. Even though I’d gotten a full scholarship from San
Francisco University, I still needed money for living expenses.
Deuce had paid my rent and all my utilities, even my cell phone
service, and provided me with extra spending money throughout my
college years.

And, despite my protests, he was still
paying for everything. No matter what I said, pleading and begging
him to stop, he always refused.

“
You’re family,” he’d
growl. “And I take care of family.”

It was hard not to appreciate that but
I knew deep down he was only doing it for my mother, not for me.
They all loved my mother, not just Jase and Hawk, but all of
them—the bikers, their old ladies, their kids, even the club
whores. She was a mother by nature; she cared for people and
enjoyed doing it, and it was damn hard not to love her.

So, really, I was only sort of family.
More like the redheaded stepchild of a family full of badass
bikers…but still family.

And so was ZZ.

We hardly knew each other, but after
six months of periodically rooming together when ZZ wasn’t on the
road, one thing had led to another and we ended up fucking. And had
been fucking ever since.

Occasionally, I heard ZZ on the phone
with Deuce and got the impression he was doing the Horsemen’s dirty
work, the kind of shit that never got talked about unless it was in
some sort of biker code consisting of broken vowels and grunts.
Then he’d leave for a while and the next time he’d show up, he
always looked that much more damaged. I asked him once what he’d
been doing and the look on his face was so utterly terrifying that
I hadn’t yet gotten up the courage to ask him again. Not that it
really mattered to me what he was doing while he wasn’t
here.

Ours wasn’t an emotional attachment, we
were just…making do. He was too old for me anyway, somewhere in his
midthirties. Whereas both Danny and her stepmother, Eva, seemed to
like older men, I couldn’t picture ending up with one. Who wanted
to be in their thirties with an old dude who could no longer get it
up? Not me. Not even for a guy as hot as ZZ.

I glanced over at him and ran my eyes
down his naked body. Long dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, killer
muscles.

I’d never seen a guy work out as much
as he did. He ran in place, he lifted weights, he did close to a
thousand sit-ups and push-ups combined every day.

The aggression he was always trying to
work off was off the fucking charts and I was starting to think
exercising wasn’t working.

I watched ZZ palm his cock and point it
at me. “Climb on and sit the fuck down.”

“
Shut up,” I muttered.
“Why are you being so bossy lately?”

He shrugged. “You’re the one who’s
haulin’ ass back to Miles City and gotta deal with those assholes.
I’m outta here in a few days, maybe for two weeks, maybe for a
month, depends on the lineup Deuce sent me and, baby, figured you
and me both could both use a good poundin’ before I head
out.”

I snorted. “Like you don’t pick up ass
wherever you keep disappearing to.”

“
I like your ass,” he
growled.

“
And every other female’s
ass in existence,” I finished for him.

“
Last three runs,” he shot
back angrily. “Haven’t fucked with anyone but you.”

Since ZZ’s version of a calendar was
based on mileage and how many runs per year, I tried to remember
when his last run was and the one before that and then the one
before that.

When I did, I gaped at him. “Are you
trying to tell me you haven’t fucked anyone but me in over six
months?”

His dark eyes bored into mine. “Did I
fuckin’ stutter?”

Huh. I suppose in a way it made sense.
Why bother with anyone else when you had a person you knew for a
fact could physically satisfy you sleeping right beside
you?

But still, ZZ and I were not
exclusive…at least, we never used to be.

“
For fuck’s sake, Tegen,
stop overthinkin’ every damn thing. Just get on my goddamn dick and
start fuckin’ bouncin’.”

Well, how could I deny such sweet
talk?

“
It all depends,” I told
him. “On whether you want my pussy or my ass.”

He grinned and the expression changed
him. Gone was the angry, gruff man I often saw, and in his place
was the ZZ I remembered as a kid. The man he’d been before Danny
had dug her pink-tipped claws into his chest and ripped out his
heart.

“
Figure I should give your
ass a break,” he said.

Snorting, I climbed on top of him and
straddled his thighs. Reaching over to the opposite nightstand, I
snagged a condom, tore it open with my teeth, and rolled it down
over his cock.

“
And that was the right
answer,” I told him. “My ass thanks you.”

Grabbing hold of him, I lifted my hips
and guided him to my entrance. It took me a moment to work him
inside me.

“
Make it count,” I told
him, then slammed down over him.

Gasping, I folded my body over, my
hands clamped down over his biceps. He growled, and his hands flew
to my hips.

“
Don’t I always?” he said
smugly.

I shrugged. “No,” I said, being honest,
purposely clenching my inner walls around his cock and watching his
face tighten with lust. “You don’t.”

In response, his dark eyes began to
burn, his fingertips dug deep into my hips, and I smiled to
myself.

He was so easy to piss off and when he
was pissed, he fucked like an angry god readying to smite the
universe. I had no doubt that now, he would most definitely make it
count.

• • •

Cage pulled into the parking lot beside
the Silver Demons’ brownstone, shut off his engine, and toed his
kickstand down.

He was fucking exhausted. He’d driven
straight from Montana to New York and only stopped for gas and once
to sleep.

Grabbing his bedroll and duffle, he
headed across the parking lot and up the walkway, bumping fists
with a few Demons standing outside.

“
Preacher ’specting ya?”
Tiny asked as he passed by. Cage paused to look at the overweight,
sweat-drenched, graying old man who was the Demons’
sergeant-at-arms.

“
Naw,” he said. “But I
need to crash and I ain’t feel like drivin’ to my boys in
Queens.”

“
We got a full house,”
Tiny said. “But Prez keeps Eva’s old room empty.” Nodding, Cage
turned and continued up the walk, ignoring two club whores who were
looking him over like he was a piece of meat.

“
Horseman,” one of them
drawled, a brunette wearing only a bikini top and a leather
miniskirt. “You want company tonight?”

Grabbing the handle on the front door,
he turned to look at her and narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck
happened to your nose?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and
studying the obvious break that had healed horribly, leaving the
poor bitch looking like she’d gone head-to-head in the ring with
Evander Holyfield.

Her slutty smile fell from her face and
was instantly replaced with a snarl. “Courtesy of your old man,
West,” she hissed, her upper lip curling. “Right after I sucked his
limp dick.”

Unfazed, Cage continued to stare at her
nose, wondering why the fuck she hadn’t had that shit set straight
or gotten it fixed, for Christ’s sake.

“
Limp dick, huh,” he said.
“Not too sure you’re talkin’ ’bout my old man, ’cause that fucker
ain’t ever put that thing away. Every time I’m turnin’ around he’s
maulin’ his old lady.”

It was true. Eva and his old man were
always at it. Always touching and kissing and grossing the hell out
of everyone.

The whore’s scowl deepened. “Little
blue pills work wonders,” she snarled.

“
Forget her,” another
bitch said, pushing in front of her friend. “Name’s Gail, honey,
but the boys call me Slitty. You wanna find out why?”

Laughing and shaking his head, Cage
pushed open the front door and headed inside where he was greeted
with more of the same. Club whores and Demons with cuts from
various states crowded the hallways and rooms. Must be something
big brewing, he surmised, for Preacher to have gathered the masses.
Not that he would know; Cage wasn’t privy to this kind of info. But
his old man would know, being in as deep with the Demons as the
Horsemen were.

Only his old man’s top boys—Mick,
Ripper, Cox, and now Tap, who got promoted after ZZ ran off—knew
the nitty-gritty.

Which was fucking fine with him; he
didn’t need to know shit, he was perfectly happy doing what he was
told. Yep. It didn’t bother him at all that his own father didn’t
trust him with club business.

Whatever.

Reaching Preacher’s office, he curled
his hand into a fist and gave the door a good, hard
knock.

“
Yeah?” yelled a familiar
gruff voice.

Cage grasped the knob and pushed open
the door. Damon “Preacher” Fox was alone, sitting behind his
monstrous desk, his head bent over a laptop as his fingers tapped
hesitantly at the keyboard.

Cage gaped at him. Preacher. Laptop. It
wasn’t adding up in his head.

“
You know how to use this
thing?” Preacher muttered, glancing up at him. “I feel like a
fuckin’ rat in a maze over here.”

Cage laughed. “Sorry, that’s Danny’s
territory. I ain’t no good with computers.”

Preacher grimaced at the machine, then
swiveled around to face him. “Fuck this shit. Take a seat, kid, and
tell me how those beautiful sisters of yours is doin’. And that
fucker Danny married? They got a baby now, don’t they?”

It was Cage’s turn to grimace. Fucking
Ripper. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with Danny’s choice in
men. The asshole had been sleeping with his sister in secret,
during which Danny had been forced to kill one of Ripper’s
girlfriends because the bitch had pulled a gun on Ripper. And if
that weren’t bad enough, Ripper took off after that, leaving Danny
alone and out of her mind depressed only to find out later she was
knocked up.

After an abortion and a whole lot of
misery, Danny started dating ZZ, the best of them, the nicest
brother the Horsemen had ever seen, and she’d pulled herself out of
it. Then fucking Ripper came back and shit went to hell again.
Yeah, they were together now, married with a kid, but at what
fucking expense. The club had lost ZZ and Danny wasn’t ever going
to be the same fun-loving, ditzy little sister he’d once
adored.

So yeah, fuck Ripper.

“
They’re fine,” he
grumbled, taking a seat in one of Preacher’s uncomfortable
high-backed chairs. “He’s fine, the kid is fine too.”

Preacher studied him. “Yeah, good to
fuckin’ know, and how ’bout you? You fine too?”

Sure. Why not.

“
Yeah,” he
said.

Preacher’s dark eyebrows rose. “Yeah
sure, kid. But it ain’t my business. So, movin’ the fuck on. What’s
bringin’ you to my neck of the woods? Deuce didn’t say shit about
it last time we talked.”

Cage fought back his grimace. Nobody
needed to know how he really felt about putting a man to ground. It
was the way of his world. Only…he’d thought after the first few
times it would have gotten easier.

But it hadn’t.

And if it ever did? Well, Cage feared
that day.

“
Bannon,” he said,
referring to one of the most notorious crime bosses on the East
Coast, who ran his business out of Philly. “His right-hand man
fucked up, thinkin’ he was just dealin’ with a pack of redneck
bikers, and made the mistake of shortchangin’ the
Horsemen.”

Preacher grinned, the expression taking
a good ten years off the man’s face. Like Cage’s own father and
unlike most of the men in this life, Preacher didn’t look his age.
His long brown hair had very little gray, although his
short-trimmed beard was nearly all gray. Laugh lines gave his
already squarely defined features that much more definition. Cage
would even go as far as to say that Preacher was definitely a
ladies’ man.

Not that he was gay or anything, but a
dude knew when another dude had pull with the bitches.

“
Bannon know it’s comin’?”
Preacher asked.

“
Fuck, yeah,” Cage said.
“Fucker set it up himself. Texted me the location ’bout two hours
ago. Shit’s goin’ down tomorrow.”

Preacher’s loud laughter echoed
throughout the small room. “Give ’im two,” the man said. “One in
each eye, one for Deuce and one for me.”

Cage smiled grimly. Preacher’s
signature “I can see you, fucker” hit was infamous. Everyone knew a
bullet in each eye meant the Demons had gone and cleaned house.
Everyone. MCs countrywide, nomads, cops, the Feds…everyone. Trouble
was, no one could pin it on him. The man was just that
good.

“
Will do,” he said,
standing up. “But right now I need shut-eye. Tiny said Eva’s old
room is up for grabs?”

Preacher nodded. “Only for family,” he
said. “And that means you, kid.”