Cowboy Bikers MC Lawmen by Esther E. Schmidt
CHAPTER NINE
Five days later
– FRANKIE –
I don’t want to wake up but the sun hitting my face through a crack in the curtains doesn’t leave me any other choice. Groaning, I turn and my face hits a warm body. A muscled chest with some ink scattered over his collarbone and flowing over his shoulder to his arms.
Atticus is still sleeping. The longer hair on the top of his head is tousled and with the sides as short as a buzzcut it gives him a wild and sexy look. As if the man needs his hair to be sexy; every inch of his body along with his brain is full-on sex on a stick if you ask me.
Every day for the last five days we’ve kept the routine of working on the case until it’s dinnertime, then it’s horseback riding, shower, and crash into a deep sleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow. I have enjoyed every single moment I’ve spent here and getting to know these guys, mostly during dinner.
Dinnertime at this ranch means every biker present will show up at the dinner table. The first time I thought it was because Atticus wanted me to meet everyone but I quickly learned it was something his parents put in place as a routine for the MC.
Something similar to church when everyone needs to be present but this is personal and mostly revolves around fun and relaxing. There is absolutely no talk about work for instance. The first two days I mostly kept quiet and observed the guys joking around with one another. I couldn’t help but soak up the family vibe and brotherhood these men have created.
As soon as everyone is finished–and they all stay seated until the last one is done–work talk slides right in while three guys handle the dishes and clean up. I’ve also noticed the schedule they have pinned on the refrigerator in the kitchen and I’ve also added my name to it, to Atticus’ amusement.
I nuzzle against his chest and take a deep breath to breathe him in. Suddenly I’m not at all bothered by waking up if I get to do so in his bed. His arm slides over me and he pulls me closer. He groans and rolls to his back, taking me along with him so I’m now draped over his chest.
It’s been days since we had sex for the first and only time and even if we’ve been sleeping together in one bed with me only wearing his shirt, we haven’t been intimate. The case we’re all working on has been overriding our thoughts and the only time to relax was when we took the horses out to roam over the property.
Though, when I place my hands on his chest and push up as I straddle him, I know what’s going to happen. It’s there in his eyes as they cloud over with lust. The same desire is pooling low in my belly, spreading tingles through my veins with a lustful need to have him inside me.
Atticus suddenly raises his upper body, grabs my hips and with my next breath I’m flying through the air and land–pussy first–on his face. I’m struggling for words but a gasp rips from my mouth when his tongue slides through my center.
“Atticussssss,” I moan and let my head fall back.
His fingers dig into my hips as he completely devours me. My breasts feel heavy and my nipples harden. I’m consumed by pleasure when he flicks my clit with his tongue and can’t help myself when I glide my hands to my breasts, tugging my nipples to heighten the sensation he’s unleashing inside me.
“Fuckin’ sexy,” Atticus rumbles against my pussy. “Keep tugging. Roll them…that’s it.”
His encouragement and the heat in his eyes are drawing me under his spell. I roll my nipples, keeping our eyes locked as I glance down to watch him slide his tongue through the lips of my pussy.
I grind myself against him, pleasure building inside my body but it’s not only due to his magnificent mouth; it’s the way he eats me up through his gaze. The emotions swirling inside, the way he adores my body along with the feel of being in his skillful hands is overwhelming.
There has never been a moment in time where I’ve felt like the most adored woman on this planet. What I’m lacking in sexual experience, this man gives reassurance and worships my body in all the ways that make strength and empowerment flow through me.
Pleasure keeps building, setting my body aflame. My breathing becomes ragged while I keep staring down at what Atticus is doing between my legs. The sensation is overwhelming. Not just the feel of his wicked tongue but the way he’s doing it in utter craving as if he’s feasting on me like his life depends on it.
My self-esteem shoots through the roof and it’s exactly how he appreciates my skills as a special agent and how he treats me when we’re around the brothers of his MC. Everything screams what I mean to him, how he sees me for who I am and it tips me over to fully surrender to him.
I’m moaning through my release, gasping for my next breath in an effort to keep upright. Again, I’m easily lifted and this time moved down his body and feel his dick at my entrance only a heartbeat before he completely fills me up. Balls deep, soul scorching, and heart clenching.
His upper body surges up and he wraps his arms around me. One of his hands is on my lower back, fingers between my ass cheeks to grind me against him. His other hand slides into my hair, fisting it to guide my head back so he can slam his mouth over mine.
His hips shoot off the mattress and I’m being thrown from one awareness into the other as he plunders my mouth, pounds my pussy with his dick, and teases my ass with his fingers. Overwhelmed by pleasure doesn’t begin to describe the electricity of bliss overtaking my body.
He slams me down onto his dick once, twice more as I feel him thicken and pulse, filling me with his own release. My name is voiced on a feverish groan of pleasure. I have never liked my middle name Enid, but I can’t help but love the way it tumbles from his lips. He makes me feel special, adored, and alive for this connection we both have between us.
His arms tighten around me and my breasts are pressed tight against his chest as he brings both our bodies back down to the mattress. Our hearts beat rapid and in sync as we try to catch our breath.
“Perfect way to wake up,” he murmurs into the crook of my neck. “I wouldn’t mind waking up to this every damn day of my life from here on out.”
My eyes burn and a longing inside me bursts to the surface because the words he just voiced are the exact same way I feel.
“I’d be a very lucky woman,” I admit in contentment, my heart skipping a beat hoping I don’t jinx a good thing.
He rolls us over so he’s hovering above me. “My goal is to make you a very lucky woman and I just gave you two orgasms for starters. Let’s see what the rest of the day brings…or the rest of our lives.”
“Please tell me you’re not going to keep score,” I groan. “I have a horrid image sliding into my mind of you being a bald, old, wrinkly man hovering above my pussy rumbling how you just gave me orgasm one million and one.”
A bark of laughter escapes him but then horror crashes over his face. “No fucking way I’ll be bald, woman,” he practically growls and now I’m the one laughing.
We spend some more time laying lazily in one another’s arms before we move toward the bathroom to take a shower together.
When we’re getting dressed, I realize, “I have to swing by my place to wash some clothes or pick up some new ones or whatever.”
“We have a meeting in twenty minutes and can swing by after,” Atticus offers.
“Sounds good.” I pull on my boots and wait till he puts on his leather cut.
I let my hand slide over the president’s patch and tilt my head toward his. I have no clue what I want to tell him but whatever it is he reads me like an open book.
His hand covers mine. “Same here, babe. I had no idea what I wanted or needed in life and in a partner to share it with right along with me. But now I can feel the connection deep in my bones? There’s no denying or walking away. We belong.”
Those two words on the end of that statement say it all. We belong. As easy as that. I bring my mouth to his and we fall into a lingering kiss as if to seal the deal we already had in place between us.
When we break apart, we head for the main room of the clubhouse where a handful of bikers are standing to the side talking and another handful are hanging around the bar. Yuma notices us first and comes strolling our way.
“The herd of Longhorns is already transferred to the other pasture and we have two buyers coming for the five Quarter horses. I’ve put Wylde on it, he’s trained two of them and–”
“And has helped out Fisher with a few deals we’ve done with these folks. Perfect, even if he’s only been a full member for two months, he’s very capable. Good call, Yuma, it frees up most of us to attend church,” Atticus agrees.
Yuma swings his head in the direction of the door when it swings open as Fisher strolls in. “Fisher mentioned he’s ready to share the info he’s gathered over the past few days.”
“Okay, since most of us are here, we might as well start.” Atticus glances down at me. “Head into church, I want to talk to Fisher and get some coffee for the both of us.”
“Okay.” I rise on my toes and press a kiss against the corner of his mouth.
When I pull back, I notice Yuma’s smirk and can feel my cheeks heat. Shit. Did I really get mushy right in front of everyone? I don’t get to answer my own question when my face is gently gripped and Atticus’ mouth finds mine again to give the kind of kiss that requires me to bury my fists into the leather of his cut and hold tight because I feel as if he’s swooping me right off my feet.
Atticus is now the one pulling back with a huge grin on his face. “No half-assed kisses, Enid. Only full-frontal ones.”
I swallow hard at the emotions running through me as I watch his sexy ass walk away from me. He motions for Fisher to join him as they head for the kitchen.
“Why don’t you take a seat in church and I’ll get you some coffee?” Yuma offers. “Prez and his VP like to talk shit through in private before they enter church and it might be a while.”
“Thanks, I’d love some,” I agree and stroll into the direction of church.
My phone gives a notification of an incoming message and when I pull it out, I see Mysti has texted me. Opening it my feet falter and I freeze in place to stare at the image coming through. Ice flows through my veins as shock registers.
I try to push my emotions down and manage enough to spin on my heels and head straight for the kitchen. Atticus and Fisher are leaning in close, talking in a hushed tone, and the both of them swivel their head in my direction as I break their private meeting. I don’t say a word but turn my phone in their direction.
“Motherfucker,” Fisher growls and grabs his own phone, jabs the screen and starts to bark out orders and rattles off my address.
Atticus simply takes the phone from my hand and shoves it into his pocket before he takes me in his arms. My throat is clogged up, I have no idea what to say and do and it’s a foreign experience.
I’m a special agent for fuck’s sake. I should be the one who barks out orders into my phone instead of being in my man’s arms being consoled. I let myself sink into his warmth, let it soak to my bones until I have the strength to pull back.
Atticus reluctantly lets me go but brings his hands to my face and keeps me pinned with his stare. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I croak.
“Then let’s go get the sonofabitch who did this,” he growls and drops his hands to grab mine and laces our fingers together as he glances at Fisher. “I’m taking the truck to get me and my old lady there.”
“ETA of our investigation team is less than five minutes. I’ll be right behind you guys,” Fisher says.
Their investigation team consists of bikers who specialize in processing crime scenes. Crime scenes. My freaking house is a crime scene. Reality really sets in when my mind pulls up the picture inside my head. The one where Mysti is lying in my living room, lifeless on the floor with a red border around her body.
Atticus is guiding me through the clubhouse and I’m not paying attention to the turmoil going on around us. The guys all seem to be rushing somewhere and we leave it all behind when we get to the parking lot and walk to the truck.
Jumping in, Atticus starts the truck but doesn’t move. “I could deal with it for you if you want and I would understand like no other.”
I’m already shaking my head. “No, I have to do this.”
It seems to be the response he wanted when he speeds out of the parking lot and heads toward my house. The street of my house is already filled with different cars, trucks, and bikes and a team of men stand in my driveway, blocking everyone from going inside.
“Our team is inside preserving any evidence and making sure nothing is overlooked. Do you want to go in right now or wait till they’re finished? We could check her house first, it’s cleared,” Atticus says and puts his phone back into his pocket as he hands mine back.
I take it from his hands and wince at the thought of the picture.
Clearing my voice I ask, “The picture texted to me, it came from her phone, did they find it yet?”
“Yeah. I just read through all the updates in the group chat and they did recover it. The thing was on your dining room table, no fingerprints.”
I mindlessly nod and slip out of the truck and head for my home, Atticus is following closely behind me. The man at the door is glancing over my head and I’m sure he locks eyes with Atticus because he nods and lets me through.
“Prez,” a guy with short dark hair and a leather cut says. “The team is done here, coroner signed off and we’re ready to move the body.”
“Thanks,” Atticus grunts behind me and I can feel the warmth of his palm on my lower back as he gives me a little nudge to move forward.
The image that was texted to my phone becomes reality. Mysti’s lifeless body is on the floor and due to the picture, I’ve passed the horrible point of the fact my next-door neighbor has been murdered and her body is posed inside my home.
I’m completely focused on doing my job and there are numerous details catching my attention. The first thing, though? Mysti is wearing my clothes. My extra pair of handcuffs is strapped to the belt on her jeans and my father’s personal handgun is in her hand.
Rigor mortis; within a few hours after death the body will lock itself into a position. This is what the killer waited for to make sure the body kept its position and texted me the photo. The position RedBorder poses its victims in is normally their line of work but in this case?
“It’s me,” I whisper. “She’s wearing my clothes, is lying in my home, right in my freaking living room, and the handcuffs and shit is another direct link.” My voice becomes loud when I harshly add, “He put her in the suicide angle as a threat. He’s threatening me.”
“Agreed,” Atticus snaps between clenched teeth.
“Yeah, I think we need to put you on lockdown.” Fisher’s voice flows through the air and I whirl around.
“Lockdown my ass, I’m on this case and I won’t step aside. Hell, this is my living room we’re standing in. My neighbor. I’m not going to sit back and let others handle it: this is personal.”
“About that.” Fisher rubs a finger along his jaw and glances at Atticus.
“Tell her what you told me before she stepped into the kitchen,” Atticus orders.
I have no clue what this is about and Fisher’s words are raw when they hit me. “I have found some dots and I’ve been able to connect them. Which basically means I now have proof your father was murdered. Most likely because he found out who the serial killer was or he was about to unravel and it cost him his life.”
It’s as if someone has shoved me right in the chest, hard, causing all the air to rush out of my lungs while I can’t seem to catch my breath. We’ve talked about possibilities ever since they brought me onto this case, but actual proof?
“Your father’s partner? Saul?” Fisher quips. “I just received a call from the prospect who was keeping an eye on him. He was knocked out. Saul is nowhere to be found and the prospect never saw who or what hit him on the back of his head. And the only fucking positive in all of this? We’re very sure Saul is the one we need in our hands and we have to talk shit through because I’ve also found other aspects in his life that might give a spin to the whole damn case.”
All I can do is blink very slowly and process what information he threw over my head like a bucket of ice water.
When I finally find my voice I snap, “Well, what are we standing around here for then?”
Fisher starts to rattle as we head for the truck and promises he will show me all the evidence he found though I don’t doubt a word he says. It’s as if some pieces of the puzzle are finally falling into place.
