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Summer Pain Page 6


  * * * *

  Logan plugged his cell back into the charger and slipped under the sheets again, drawing Sassy against his chest.

  “Who was on the phone?” She nuzzled his wrist and wrapped her arm around his neck, playing with the hairs at his nape. He loved that. He loved everything about his woman.

  “Tigger.”

  “That’s a surprise,” she said sleepily. “Isn’t he spending the night with his new big boy toy?"

  “Summer may be more than a toy to Tigger,” he told her, staring into the darkness.

  “She’s his rebound, Logan.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Sassy decided to let that go, asking instead, “Why did he call?”

  “It’s the woman. She was attacked tonight.”

  “What?” Sassy sat upright in the bed and turned on the bedside lamp. “Why?”

  “Gaylord paid her a visit.”

  “Oh my God, Logan.” Sassy’s hand went to her mouth. She looked as frightened as he imagined Tigger’s new flame must’ve been when she realized she’d lit a fire to a man who was an out-of-control inferno. “Is this club-related?”

  “It’s starting to look like it. First, I’m fingered as a snitch, and now an outright physical attack on a woman Tigger has only known for a couple of days? It doesn’t add up.”

  “Yes, it does. Gaylord is grasping. He’s looking to cause a lot of commotion. He’s trying to throw you off your game.”

  “I would agree whole-heartedly if he’d attacked you, Cara, or Victory. But why a gal no one knows? She isn’t an old lady. She isn’t one of the club’s broads. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Maybe you should call Mark tomorrow and see if he can shed a light on some of it.”

  “Hell no! He tried to pull me out and expected me to leave you here to fend for yourself.”

  “He was doing his job, honey.”

  Logan slung back the covers and rose from the bed. “Well, now I have no other choice. I have to do mine.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Melinda,” Logan greeted Gaylord’s wife an hour later when she answered the door of their home. “I need to speak with Gaylord.”

  “He’s not here,” she lied.

  “I know he’s here.” Logan returned the favor. “We’ve had surveillance on him all day.”

  A creak in the floor announced the obvious, and Melinda stepped aside.

  “You want to do this here or take a ride?” Logan asked, eyeing the beast of a man in front of him.

  Poor Summer. Gaylord must’ve terrified her. Tigger had said she was shaken, but if Gaylord had knocked her around, Logan was betting on more than a few bruises. He’d left internal scars, psychological damage.

  Yeah, Logan knew what Gaylord was capable of.

  “I speak freely in front of my wife.”

  “Suit yourself.” Logan pushed by him. Upon entering Gaylord’s home, he added, “I have a feeling you’ll regret those words.”

  “I’ll make some coffee,” Melinda said, playing the perfect role of doting wife.

  “Don’t on my account,” Logan snapped, his focus returning to Gaylord. “Someone attacked a friend of Tigger’s tonight.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Gaylord fibbed, taking a seat on a sofa that looked too small to accommodate his six-foot-five, nearly three-hundred pound form.

  “She was threatened and beaten, from what I gather.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “No. Tigger is with her now. I imagine he won’t go anywhere, just a little sidebar for you to consider in case you were planning on revisiting her any time in the near future.”

  “Gaylord, what’s this about?” Melinda asked.

  “Go back to bed. I’ll be there soon.” Gaylord only turned his head in acknowledgement and acted as if he were speaking to his shoulder rather than his wife. Compassion didn’t linger in his voice. If anything, he seemed more irritable because Melinda had questioned him in front of company.

  Logan saw the opportunity and went in for the kill. “Yeah, Melinda, he should be there soon if he isn’t otherwise engaged, targeting another innocent victim to threaten.” He looked at Melinda dead-on. “Your husband went to see a friend of Tigger’s tonight. He threatened her and left her in pretty bad shape.”

  “Who’s the woman?” she asked, the ice in her voice and eyes running thick enough to freeze her chilly veins.

  Women like Melinda knew the score. They’d played the game. They’d been involved with the MC long enough to know there would be infidelities, bloodshed, and an unlimited number of dangerous liaisons, both in business and in pleasure.

  “You don’t know her,” Gaylord snapped.

  “No.” Logan stalked him. With his finger extended, he said, “You don’t know her. You targeted someone you knew nothing about and went to intimidate her anyway. You battered and bruised a woman who is nothing more than a visitor in this damn town. She isn’t an old lady! She isn’t a broad! She’s been here less than seventy-two hours and did not deserve to be harassed by anyone affiliated with the Devil’s Angels!”

  “Do you know her, Gaylord?” Melinda asked calmly.

  “No.” He kept his gaze pinned to Logan.

  “Why would you go see her then?” Melinda’s voice was elevated.

  “That’s the fifty million dollar question, isn’t it, Gaylord?” Logan watched Gaylord, trying to gather what information he could from the man who had intimidated a woman without just cause. Then Logan thought of a new angle, of a possible reason Gaylord might have approached Summer. There was only one explanation.

  “Oh my God. This is starting to make sense now.”

  Gaylord’s cold eyes followed him as he paced the room. Melinda watched him carefully, too.

  “She’s inside,” Logan whispered, talking to himself more than anyone else. “She’s inside, and she’s not here to work alongside us. She’s here to find out which one of us has gone rogue.”

  Gaylord stood. “I think you’ve outstayed your welcome, Marcs.”

  “The hell I have!” Logan bellowed, turning on him. Before he thought better of it, he grabbed Gaylord by the collar and threw him up against the wall. “Do you know what the hell you’ve done? Do you?”

  “Let him go!” Melinda smacked Logan’s arm and tugged at his sleeve.

  Logan shrugged her away. “Do you have any idea what you’ve jeopardized?”

  Gaylord sneered. “The way I see it, your boy Tigger is about to turn on you. He’ll be in bed with Summer by morning, probably stay there for the better part of the weekend, and since we both know she won’t turn on me now, it’s probably safe to assume that vote you escaped at your table earlier today will soon be overturned.

  Summer will tell Tigger what she knows and, because of the threat against her, she will finger you. She’ll explain she’s working for the Feds, and that will be that. You’re finished, Marcs. Done. If I were you, I’d go back to the clubhouse, gather up my belongings and that hot little redhead you profess to love. Then, get the hell out of town before all the heat comes down.”

  “Yeah, well, you ain’t me.”

  * * * *

  The sun was barely peering over the horizon by the time Mark Sampson met Logan at one of their regular meeting spots, an abandoned hunting cabin situated on top of a ridge overlooking most of Beech Creek Road. From the backyard, the Heroes and Rogues clubhouse could easily be seen. From the front, a perfect view of the Devil’s Angels parking lot was visible with a good set of binoculars.

  Mark exited his sedan and joined Logan on the porch. Logan handed him a coffee. “I got tired of waiting and ran down to the market. I was afraid I might have missed you.”

  “I got held up.” Mark removed the plastic lid and took a sip. “What do you have for me?”

  “Tell me about Summer Pain.” Logan dropped his arms between splayed legs.

  “She’s undercover. I had nothing to do with her assignment, but I’m her handler now.”
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  “And you didn’t tell me?” Logan grunted. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Gaylord is dirty. You were right.”

  Interesting, Logan mused. Had Sampson decided to play this another way? “She plans to tell you just the opposite.”

  “Where’d you get your information?”

  Mark was jittery, far too nervous for Logan’s liking. He acted as if he had something to hide, and Logan couldn’t help but think of one of his father’s favorite sayings, “If it slithers like a snake, it’s a snake.”

  “Gaylord paid her a visit. He banged her up pretty good. From what I can tell, this operation is about to be blown to hell and back.”

  Mark shook his head. “Not if I can help it.”

  Logan shoved his hands in his front pockets and stretched his legs forward. “Well, I guess this whole operation is in Summer’s hands now.” Over my dead body.

  “I’ll agree with you there,” Mark said.

  Probably thinking the same thing.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” Logan grumbled. “We work for years to gain our positions within the club, and the agency sends in a woman to do their bidding for them, to try and figure out which man is dirty, which one has his own agenda. Then the gal lands in bed with one of the MC’s top guys within forty-eight hours of her arrival? How the fuck does that happen?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Mark said, standing. “Logan, you have to be prepared for the worst. If I were you, I’d go to the club, gather up the belongings you have, and get Sassy out of there. If nothing else, send her away for a few weeks.”

  “I probably don’t have a choice now, do I?” Logan stared off in the distance. He couldn’t help but compare men. Mark and Gaylord wanted him out of town. They’d both advised him to leave and take Sassy with him.

  “No, you really don’t.” Mark sighed. “This thing could come down several ways now. I hope to arrange a meeting with Summer later today. If I can see her face-to-face, I’ll reassure her. Once she realizes we know Gaylord is our man here, then maybe we can pull him out without further consequence.”

  “And what if Summer has already confided in Tigger? What if she’s spilled the beans on the entire operation?”

  “Then all of this has been for nothing.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Tigger watched her sleep. The more she tossed and turned and cried out in the midst of her nightmares, the more he wanted to go to her, wrap her in his arms, and tell her everything would be all right.

  Throughout the night, he’d nodded off here and there, slept in a nearby chair with his feet propped up on the edge of the bed. He stood guard, waiting for Gaylord’s return. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd known, Gaylord wouldn’t return without provocation.

  Tigger wondered what it would take to entice him. How could he lure him out? What would it take to fling him a bone and start the chase? If Gaylord had paid Summer a visit once, he’d likely pay her a visit in the future. Wouldn’t he?

  One thing about it, if he did return, Tigger would throw a wrench in his plans. Tigger just wished Summer would open up and tell him why this had happened. Was Gaylord provoked because of her inquiries about Damsel or because he’d spent time with her?

  Stirring in her sleep, Summer rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. She blinked a few times before stretching her slender arm over her head.

  “Good morning.” Tigger uncrossed his legs. With his feet flat against the floor, he scooted the chair closer to the bed.

  “How long did I sleep?” She turned her face toward him.

  “Six or seven hours.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered, and she yawned. “I guess you’re probably tired of uneventful evenings spent with the newcomer, huh?”

  Tigger winked. “Let’s just say we’ve had a rocky start.”

  “The mornings haven’t been entirely dull,” she reminded him, tossing back the covers and nudging his thigh with her foot.

  “No,” he said, growing hard as steel as he thought about the previous morning. Catching her pleasuring herself had been the highlight of his week. The idea of her pushing her fingers inside her pussy and calling out his name when she had no idea he was still there had been a real turn-on.

  “Do you have plans today?” Tigger asked, still unclear about her reasons for being in the Tri-Cities area. She hadn’t elaborated, and he hadn’t pushed. Most men would’ve asked before now, but Tigger hadn’t wanted to screw up their chances for a good time in the sack. So he’d remained quiet. Maybe, he was afraid of her answer.

  Summer slid her foot up the inside of his thigh. Resting her toes mere inches from his cock, she whispered, “I had planned to spend the day in bed.”

  His cock twitched. The hard length pulsed against the pajama pants he wore. If she wanted to see what kind of effect she had on him, all she had to do was look down. The navy-and-red pinstripes didn’t exactly conceal his erection.

  She pointed to the duffle bag he’d left on the floor. “What do you have in there?”

  “Are you sure you want to find out?” he asked, his breath ragged.

  “I’m sure, Tigger.” She rolled to her side. With her right palm, she stroked the empty space beside her. “Don’t you want to find out how willing I am to submit to you?”

  Tigger jerked. Holy hell! This was too good to be true. He couldn’t believe he’d spent the last few years with a woman who had adamantly refused to participate in Domination and submission. How had he survived?

  “You’ve been with a Dom before.”

  “Yes.”

  A zip of electrifying sensations rushed up and down his spine. His balls tightened with her confession. Damnation, he wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He’d looked at her as a true innocent, someone who didn’t know what the hell to do in order to please a Dom, and yet, there she was, admitting she’d already been trained to submit, taught to please.

  “Present,” he ordered, his voice guttural.

  She exited the bed on the other side. Slowly, she approached him, her eyes never leaving his until she stood next to the chair.

  Summer bowed her head, spread her legs apart, pushed her chest forward and locked her arms behind her back.

  “Lovely,” Tigger crooned, eyeing those perky nipples pressing against her thin black slip.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she said, stepping right into the submissive role.

  Good Lord, had he misjudged her from the beginning?

  Apparently so.

  “Do you like to wear nipple clamps?” He retrieved a silver box from the side pocket of his bag.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Tigger opened the box and pulled free a long chain attached to two claw-like ornaments. “Look at me, sub.”

  Summer tilted her chin upward and studied the clamps. Her mouth was visibly moistened, and her eyes were hooded.

  “Take off your slip.”

  Summer crossed her arms and yanked the material over her head. She stood before him, naked and totally perfect. Her stomach was flat. Unlike Cara or other women he’d taken to his bed, Summer didn’t have stretch marks. Her breasts were full but not large, and he thought they were perfect. She was so young, so beautiful, and totally committed to being his, if only for a little while.

  “Step forward.”

  He reached inside his pajama pants and stroked the hard wedge of flesh nestled between his legs. Good Lord, he was horny as hell. It had been years since he’d taken a submissive to his bed.

  Summer inched closer. Cupping her breasts, she raked her thumbs over her nipples. “Is this what you want, Sir?”

  His mouth went dry. “I didn’t tell you to touch yourself.”

  “Will you punish me, Sir?”

  His masculine growl resounded. “Damn right.”

  He pulled a paddle from his bag and set the wooden slab on the nearby nightstand. “But first, I want to clamp those pretty nipples.”

  He stood then. Pinching her left nipple, he secured the first clamp
then lowered his head. Licking the extended right gem, he whispered against her flesh as he worked for her arousal and tormented himself with the things he couldn’t have—at least not yet. Once both nipples were clamped, he pulled the chain between her breasts and let the silver links fall between her two mounds.

  “Beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” She tilted her head and watched him.

  “Come here, sub,” he said, taking her hand in his.

  Subservient and eager, she stepped between his legs. He looked up at her, and she boldly met his gaze. And in that moment, he knew. God help him, he just knew. His future was sealed.

  “Before I spank you, I’ll give you one request, just one small reward. What do you want, Summer?”

  “I want you to kiss me, Sir.” Her cheeks flushed. “If you want to.”

  At that particular moment, he wanted nothing more! He pulled her down to his lap. She curved her left arm around his neck.

  “You kiss me, sub. Kiss me the way you want to be kissed.”

  She shifted, draping her legs over his thighs. Then, she framed his face with both hands. Lowering her forehead to his, she whispered across his lips. “I want to kiss you with my eyes open.”

  Their mouths met, and she thrust her tongue inside his mouth as if she were a greedy lover. Her palms never left his cheeks as she cupped his face and made love to his mouth with a reverent tongue, one so eager to explore and find, teach and learn. And, oh God, could he ever learn from this woman.

  Her kiss started out as forceful, as if she were looking for more than ownership. She wanted controlling interest.

  She ground her pussy against his flannel-clad cock and slowed the kiss. Her mouth wandered from his lips to his chin and jaw before returning to his lips again.

  As her hot pussy rubbed against him, Tigger found himself pushing the weight of his cock closer to her heat. Good God, he wasn’t sure how long he could stand this.

  His dick lengthened, and the burning sensation in his balls became more than he could stand. Grabbing her forearms, he pulled her away from him. “Enough, sub.”