Diamonds: Motorcycle Club Romance (Savage Saints MC Book 8) Page 4

  Would most people have waited for privacy? Sure, but most people didn’t get laid like I did. Most people didn’t let themselves get swept up like I did. Their loss, not mine.

  We stumbled out of the elevator doors and toward my place, which thankfully Pork had left alone for the night, choosing to go to Mama’s. As soon as we got inside, clothes started to tear off. We were naked before we’d even crossed the threshold to my room. I grabbed a condom from the bookcase right by my bed, moved her mouth aside so I could put it on, and then pushed her down so I could get inside of her.

  “Oh, fuck, Dom, yes.”

  Four words I hear just about every night from someone new.

  And then, the most mind-fucking thing ever happened.

  When I pulled back and looked at Cindy, I didn’t see Cindy.

  I saw my ex-fiancée, Danica.

  What the actual fuck?

  I buried my head in between Cindy’s shoulder and neck, thrusting as hard as I could, trying to pretend that what I had seen wasn’t actually what I saw. Danica wasn’t even alive anymore, nor had I seen her since all those years ago. There was no way I’d seen her. No way.

  Cindy wasn’t actually Danica, right?

  I dared to look back. It was Cindy’s face again.

  All was good.

  “You good, baby?”

  “Shut up,” I said as I thrusted harder. “Less talk, more fuck.”

  She loved me so much. And she didn’t even know that I would barely remember her face if not for her being a dancer at the club.

  We went at it in missionary for maybe another minute before I got bored and flipped her over. Her hair covered her face as she centered herself over my hips.

  And then, when she moved her hair aside, I saw Danica’s face again! What the actual…

  “Hold up,” I said.

  “You OK?”

  I pushed her off, pushed her forward, and got behind her.

  “This is how it’s really done,” I said.

  But really, I just needed to come as quickly as possible. I must have drunk something really shitty and spiked at the bar, or my mind had picked a very odd time to fuck with itself. Regardless of what the truth was, this was the position I always finished in, and since I didn’t have to see Cindy’s—or Danica’s—face, I could just close my eyes, grab her hips, and thrust until I came.

  I think I might have gotten her to orgasm before I did come, as she let out a loud scream, and I felt her pussy tighten significantly around me. Or maybe she was just reacting to the swelling in my cock.

  Either way, I hadn’t had an orgasm so… quick, so plain, so just there, since in the immediate aftermath of losing Danica.

  And, of course, wouldn’t you know it, that was because of Jenna.

  And since I’d seen Jenna tonight…

  But it hadn’t affected me on Tuesday night with the orgy, so…

  “That’s it?” Cindy asked. “I thought you went longer than this.”

  I wasn’t even thinking about what she said. She was right, I hadn’t performed well tonight, but I didn’t care.

  “Long night,” I said. “We’ll make up for it in the morning.”

  But if my mind was going to be in the same place in about six or seven hours as it was now, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to get hard then.

  * * *

  I never set an alarm, and today was no different.

  But I sure wished I had, because I spent all night dreaming about Danica.

  More specifically, I dreamed about the last time I had seen her.

  It was… it was a struggle just to believe that I’d even dreamed about her. How I’d left her with a smile. How I’d left her in the same place as Jenna Saunders. How…

  That wasn’t how the dream played out, though. The dream played out with her asking if I wanted to make love to her. I hadn’t felt so enthusiastic and so eager to have sex as I had at that moment. I pulled her in close, hugged her, and tried to make love to her.

  I tried. But every time I brought her in close, she eluded my grasp and fell further away. The more I pursued her, the farther away she got. It was like someone had her on a yo-yo and was letting me catch up, only to pull away cruelly at the last second, viciously taunting me.

  “Damnit!” I had roared in the dream. “Danica! Please!”

  And then, just like that, she vanished, and I awoke.

  The place was silent.

  And that was because I was all alone.

  I checked my phone. I had no messages from Cindy. Usually, I was the one to duck out and pretend the night had never happened. But now, Cindy had pulled that move on me. I barely remembered the fact we’d had sex the night before.

  And in a way, I was glad I didn’t have to deal with her right now. I couldn’t imagine that it would be fun to deal with someone after they’d had a nightmare about their deceased ex. That, and I just preferred for people to leave as soon as sex was done. I didn’t need to get attached like I had been to Danica.

  We saw how that ended.

  I stood up, naked, and looked out the window. Las Vegas was already in a bustling mood. It was just after noon. I listened to see if I could hear Pork having returned elsewhere in the apartment, but there was no noise. I was alone.

  I tried to replay what had happened the night before, seeing Danica’s face on Cindy’s body. I wished that I could say that it was just a freak occurrence, somehow triggered by Jenna’s presence.

  Except that wasn’t true. The very first night I had seen Jenna back, I hallucinated.

  * * *

  Six Months Ago

  “Who’s the gal in the red?”

  My knees went shaky when Pork saw her. What the hell was she doing here?

  Of all the people in my life whom I never wanted to see, Jenna Saunders ranked pretty much at number one, two, three, all the way down to maybe one hundred before other people entered the list. She’d ruined my life, taken the only thing I’d ever loved, and made me refuse ever to allow myself to get hurt again.

  And the fucking reason—the only fucking reason—that I had to consider her presence was because I’d lost a stupid bet to my roommate. How in the fuck did Pork win this one over me?

  “Jenna, oh, fuck.”

  I regretted expressing my thoughts out loud. It was like giving Pork a softball of a gift.

  “Sold! To the girl in red!”

  I turned and thought of punching Pork. The only reason I didn’t was because he was to the side, giving me enough time to cool down. If he stood right in front of me, I probably would have sucker-punched the shit out of him.

  “You have no idea what you’ve set up with that,” I said.

  “That’s why I want to do it! I don’t want to watch a movie I’ve already seen. I want a sequel!”

  “Fuck off,” I said.

  And yet, the only way I could make this work was to refuse to fulfill my end of the bargain with my bet. Bikers were many things, but men of our words to our club members was a big one. If I didn’t do what Pork was asking me, how the fuck could he trust me when we actually battled the Sinners?

  He couldn’t. So, with a massive gulp of my Long Island, I headed over to Jenna Saunders, to the woman responsible for the death of Danica, my fiancée.

  “Hi, Jenna,” I said, putting on the fakest smile I could possibly muster.

  When Jenna turned to me, I swore that she looked like she was going to pass out from shock.

  “What brings you to The Red Door and back into my life?”

  “Hey, uh, Dom,” she said.

  Poor girl is nervous? Too bad. She deserves to be nervous, and every other emotion that she’s feeling right now. Whatever she thinks she’s feeling, she’s not feeling it enough.

  “I work for the LVPD now. Mario sent me here, and Richard let me—”

  “Oh, how sweet,” I said. “So you’re a cop?”

  Jenna dropped her head. I just laughed. I stole a glance from behind me. Pork looked distracted, but he als
o looked back at me. I needed to keep this facade going just long enough for Pork to become enamored with the boobs in front of him. Then, I could escape.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I want to atone for—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” I said, dropping the sarcasm and the smirk. “Don’t you dare. You don’t get to atone for anything.”

  “But—”

  I turned back. Pork was looking at a girl with red hair. He wasn’t looking at me. I escaped as soon as I could.

  I vowed never to speak to Jenna. I went for the first girl I saw. I didn’t even care if she was fat or ugly. I just needed my dick to do the thinking right now.

  Within five minutes, I was taking a girl with a cowboy hat and boots to the back of the club.

  * * *

  Of course, that Western-themed girl turned into Danica by the end of the night.

  I fucking hated Pork for a long time after that. He even tried to bring it up the night after, and I was really fucking pissed then. If not for the Sinners attacking us, well, we would have had a war of words. It might have been the only time in my life that I felt grateful the Sinners had decided to come after us.

  But I couldn’t blame Pork now. He hadn’t had anything to do with Jenna’s return here. It was a hell I’d have to deal with myself.

  I put my boxers and Houston Rockets shorts on, walked into the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of water before deciding that wasn’t strong enough. I grabbed a bottle of Scotch, poured myself a glass, and sipped on it on the couch. The front door unlocked, and Pork walked in seconds later.

  “Hmm, Scotch and water on a Friday morning,” he said. “I suppose that would be one way to start the weekend, were it not for the fact that our weekend is Tuesday and Wednesday.”

  “I’m drinking for both of us,” I said. “Since your sorry ass is going to be a father soon.”

  “Most exciting thing in my life to date,” he said. “Meanwhile, you look like shit. And I don’t mean that literally!”

  “Ugh, Pork,” I said, putting my palm on my forehead. “It was a weird night, OK? I think I deserve this.”

  “Really,” he said suspiciously. “I didn’t see anything unusual. How was Cindy?”

  “Who?”

  “Christ, you forgot her already? Maybe you should lay off the Scotch.”

  “Oh, hah,” I said, but there was nothing funny about it. “She was alright. Nothing crazy. Just… weird overall.”

  Pork cocked an eyebrow at me as he poured a glass of water and sat on the other end of the couch. I didn’t give him the chance to ask follow-up questions.

  “How’s love going with Mama?”

  “Well, aren’t you a detective now,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s like I said. Sex drive through the roof right now. Fucking crazy. But I’m getting more nervous. Oh! She did mention something last night. She said Jenna was watching us.”

  Goddamnit, Pork.

  “OK, and?”

  “Mama said she just mentioned how she was keeping a patrol on the area or something, but she thinks that she’s full of shit. Thinks there’s something she’s not saying. Like maybe the cops might have a plan for us.”

  “There’s no way,” I said. “We have half the staff under our grip. If anything, they sent Jenna to tell us something they can’t tell us themselves.”

  That’s what I wanted to believe, at least. I didn’t like the idea of the police department trying to clean themselves up through Jenna or something stupid like that. We’d done so well to repel the Sinners; this club didn’t need another fucking nightmare.

  “Well, either way, I’m just saying be cautious,” Pork said. “Because we don’t need the PoPo making us go no-no.”

  Finally, Pork got me to laugh.

  “We’ll take care of it,” I said.

  I turned on the TV to ESPN and casually watched highlights, not doing anything. I thought of making some breakfast, but the idea of doing work for food right now just seemed a bit… well, I didn’t have as much energy as I would have liked to.

  “I’m gonna go to Einstein’s for breakfast,” I said. “You want anything?”

  “Nah, Mama made me breakfast.”

  “Tacos? Eh? Eh?”

  Pork shook his head.

  “Yes, and I made her sausage. No, you fool. She made scrambled eggs and bacon.”

  “Huh, am I the one making puns now?”

  “Go get your breakfast, Einstein.”

  “Oh-ho!” I said with a laugh. “Be back in twenty.”

  I shut the door in a relatively good mood. I took the elevator down in a satisfactory mood.

  I got to my bike in an uproariously pissed off mood when I saw a fucking boot on my bike, holding it in place.

  “What the actual fuck?” I screamed.

  If that had been the worst of it, then it would have been bad enough. But no, that wasn’t the worst of it.

  Of course, Jenna Saunders was right next to my bike.

  “Hi, Dom.”

  “Did you put a fucking boot on my bike?”

  “I did, but I just need to talk to you for a little bit. Can I just have a few moments to speak honestly?”

  “Can you?” I said. “Can you? No, really, can you? Because there’s a lot you haven’t spoken for.”

  Jenna bit her lip, but I didn’t much care. Not when she hadn’t said so many things that needed to be said. Not when she was standing here, having put a boot on my bike to force me to talk to her.

  “Something is going on at the political level that’s suggesting they’re going to try to limit you guys or drive you out of Las Vegas,” she said.

  “And why couldn’t Mario tell me about this? Or Richard about this?”

  “What do you think is easier? A girl in her late twenties coming to talk to you like this? Or an older man whose face is known everywhere? And do you think we haven’t tried Richard? Do you think I want to have to do this?”

  Shit. Goddamnit.

  “Why the fuck are you telling me this?”

  Jenna shook her head. She couldn’t look at me. Of course, she couldn’t look at me. When had she ever been able to look at me?

  “Dom, I’m not the monster you think I am. I’m not—”

  “Get this boot off of my bike before I call Mario directly and tell him what you’re doing.”

  With a sigh, Jenna did just that. She stepped several feet back as I got on my bike, ignoring her, refusing to look at her. I got all the way backed up when I heard her utter a few last words.

  “I’m sorry, Dom,” she said. “I know you’ve been through hell. But you look like you’re getting better.”

  How fucking dare she.

  I turned back to her with the ugliest scowl I’d ever produced. I glared at her until she looked like she was going to shit herself.

  “Yeah,” I said. “And you look like what you always have. You know what that is?”

  She shook her head.

  “A murderer.”

  Chapter 4: Jenna

  That went as poorly as it possibly could have.

  It hurt hearing what Dom said. It was so painful to hear him call me a murderer and to hear him believe I was responsible for Danica’s death.

  He didn’t know everything. He couldn’t have. He wasn’t there. He only got what other people had told him after the fact.

  But from what he knew, and from what Danica meant to him… I couldn’t blame him. For how it looked and for how everything went down, he probably wasn’t willing to believe that I wasn’t as guilty as he wanted to believe. He didn’t want to believe that Danica’s death was, in many ways, just a freak accident.

  I’d hoped that by putting the boot on his bike, not only would I get to relay the information to Dom about the politics soon to affect him and his club; I’d also get to explain everything that had happened. I didn’t expect him to believe me right out of the gate, but maybe I could have planted the seed that he would have come back to sometime later.

  Unfortun
ately, with his current attitude, I just didn’t see how that was possible any longer.

  There had to be a way to get everything I knew and thought to him, but I didn’t know how to do it without pissing him off. Maybe there was no way to do that.

  I headed back to the office then, deciding I’d accomplished Chief Gutierrez’s directive. It was as much as I could do. I got to his office, found the door open, and nodded to him.

  “A word, Jenna,” he said.

  I gulped and shut the door. Had Dom reached out to him already? Was I about to get busted for not following procedure? That would seem awfully rich considering how much this academy did that was somewhat underhanded, but then again, I was as much a part of the hypocrisy as anyone else.

  “Richard went off to California this morning again,” he said. “Did Dom mention anything about it?”

  “No.”

  Mario bowed his head, muttered under his breath, and looked back up.

  “I have no idea what the fuck is going on over there,” he said. “But I don’t worry about that much. I’m not in the club; I’m not supposed to know anything about that. However, if Dom doesn’t know, then that makes me think that the rest of the club also doesn’t know what’s going on.”

  “Sir? Don’t all operations work like that? I’m sure you have to do with things that the other officers and I don’t get to know about.”

  “That’s different,” he said, and his tone suggested he wasn’t just being cliché. “The reason the Saints have worked as well as they have for so long is because everyone knows everything. They keep their secrets in-house, but everyone in the house knows what’s going on. If there are secrets, problems are going to arise there.”

  He sighed.

  “The club has done a very good job of not spilling its problems out into the street, but ever since the Sinners started raising hell over there, they haven’t been quite as disciplined as they once were. Even in the weeks after Scar’s death, they still seemed to have developed some bad habits. Richard especially. He’s had conflicts with some of the other members by keeping things closely guarded, very unlike him.”

  I imagined the stress Richard must have been under as it related to that of Chief Gutierrez. The chief didn’t have other officers to commiserate with; by and large, he was alone. That’s why he was the chief.