Page 5 of Iron City Showdown
The thought sat in his brain as he slowly got to his feet. His calf still hurt like a bitch, and standing up almost sent him to his knees.
“We need help over here!” Tracie called out as she jammed a shoulder under his armpit to support him.
He wrapped his arm around her and noted how well she fit into his body. She turned her head to him and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he put a finger over her lips. “I meant what I said, baby. We got police reports to give, a tripto the hospital, and other shit we gotta do, but I promise, before this fucked-up day is over, you’re gonna be in my bed.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Maybe you’ll be in mine,” she stated behind his digit.
He grinned down at her. “I see there’s a little sass in all that sweet. I can’t wait to find out the rest.”
2
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
Quillon took several long,deep lungfuls of air as he slid out of Tracie’s limp form and rolled to his back. She’d come three times tonight, once under his tongue and twice under his body. He, too, had finished hard, filling her with his essence.
“Let me go get cleaned up,” she said in a breathy, satisfied voice.
“Not yet, baby. Just stay here for a bit.” He tucked her against his side and held her there.
This was his favorite time of night—the few minutes after they both came and the quiet of just enjoying the moment. He loved feeling her bow up with pleasure, hearing her cry out in satisfaction, and seeing her face as she found it. He loved emptying himself into her pulsing body as a reminder that they were alive and together.
The club accepted her from the get-go. It wasn’t easy joining a bunch of people with a radically different lifestyle than your own, but somehow they’d made it work. The first night they spent together had been at his place, where yes indeed, she had said his name as he made her come. Several times. Theyhad been together ever since and had moved into a townhouse halfway between the clubhouse and the bank branch she worked at now. She didn’t wear his patch at work, but she did at all other times.
He smiled and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Did I tell you l love you yet?”
She laughed and shifted to straddle his hips. “Not yet, but feel free to do so.”
“I love you, Tracie.”
She bent to place her mouth on his for a sweet, light kiss. “Love you too.”
He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her on top of him. She squirmed.
“I’m gonna get you all messy.”
“It’s my mess, baby. I’ll take it.”
He kissed her again, this time lingering as he traced her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She opened to him and gave back.
Fuck me. This will never get old, will it?
Her giggle made him realize he’d said the thought out loud. “I hope not.”
“Trial finished up today. The verdict’s out. He got the death penalty.”
Tracie kept silent as they both reflected on the unsurprising outcome.
Last week, both of them appeared as prosecution witnesses in the highly anticipated trial for the man the press had dubbed the Green Street Shooter.
AR-man, better known now as Harold Clontz, had not been the baddass he tried to portray in the bank robbery. In the end, he was just as big a clown as the other two. During the trial, he’d blubbered and sobbed about how he’d only wanted to scare people when he fired a weapon over their heads. He didn’t knowthe rifle he’d bought from some street dealer had an illegal upgrade, and it got away from him. He didn’t mean to kill Benny and Sean, or the other two bank patrons, but they were just as dead either way. Barney Fife survived and decided retirement was a good idea.
“Seems wrong for him to live in prison until the court sets a date. It’ll be years of appeals before that happens,” Tracie murmured into his chest as she ran a nail over the sweeping sword tattoo next to his stiff nipple.
“Nothing is right about this shit, baby, but at least he’ll get what’s coming to him. Doesn’t matter to me, as the fucker sealed his own fate when he fired the first round. If not by the state law, then by club law.”
She placed a hand flat between his pecs and placed her chin on top as she regarded him. “What does that mean?”
“Laws are supposed to keep everyone safe and protected. Stop signs, seat belts, firearms, shit like that. But sometimes the law and justice don’t mix. That’s when club law steps in. Yeah, it sucks that they’ll keep this jagoff fed and healthy for a while, but he’s still sitting in a cell with only one exit.”
The fingers of her other hand left his tattoo and circled his nipple, plucking at the tip. His groin stirred as she played with him. “It feels like it’s lose-lose, no matter what.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I thinkwewon. We’re here. In this bed. Together. I call that a win for the both of us, and this is a life sentence I’m happy to keep.” He shifted under her and found his mark with ease. She inhaled sharply as he entered her. “What do you say, baby?”
She sat up to take him deeper and grind herself on him. “I’d say let’s make another mess.”
He had a bird’s-eye view of her pussy with his dick buried inside her. Yeah, this was a win all right, and he got the prize.
