“There is always that possibility. But the cartel isn’t going to flex its muscle based on Martel’s call. They’ll reach out.”
“By putting our heads in a burlap sack,” Joker said grimly.
“No, they will make contact first. But I have a feeling that’s not going to happen.”
“What do you mean?” Cade asked.
“I received some information a few days ago. Ruger and I are going to check it out in Gulfport. And if my sources are correct, then the cartel’s not going to be a problem.” He looked at us around the table. “Relax, gentlemen, I think the only chain we rattled was Gimmel Martel, and if we fear that piece-of-shit weasel, then we need to hang up our cuts and walk away.”
By the time chapel broke, the mood was lighter. But I didn’t hang around for the aftermath, and ignoring the curious glances of my club brothers, I tore out of the compound and headed for home. Tomorrow, Bull and I would leave for Gulfport and I planned on spending as much time with my girl as possible before we left.
Chastity was waiting for me, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts over a tiny pair of panties, and my heart lit up in my chest when I saw her. I picked her up and kissed her wildly as I walked her in my arms to my bedroom.
I couldn’t help but feel like I was walking the plank toward an agonizing end.
But damned if I cared.
I was so addicted to her; I’d walk through my worst nightmare to keep her with me.
Bull and I rode to Gulfport.
After a night of burying myself so deep inside my girl, it was hard to ride beside her uncle knowing he had no idea I had crossed the boundaries of trust.
Guilt tightened in my chest. My loyalty to Bull was in direct conflict with my promise to Chastity to keep our involvement on the down-low. Every fiber of my being wanted to come clean. To confess. To tell him I had broken his one rule about Chastity, but that I would keep breaking it because damn, I was into her. I had no idea if what we had would last. Hell, I didn’t even know what it was.
What I did know was that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since I’d left her lying in my bed this morning, her creamy body spread out, naked and smooth.
My cock thickened with lust at the memory.
But I had to focus.
We were in Gulfport to find out all we could about Gimmel Martel and just how involved with the Salvaj he was.
“He’s not,” said the scantily clad woman as she leaned down and poured bourbon into two crystal tumblers on the table in between us.
We were at an exclusive establishment called The Opium Den. It was the kind of place you didn’t show up to without an invitation. You had to be recommended by a patron to gain entrance to the hallowed halls. It was an upmarket sex club where guests could choose the BDSM poison of their choice.
Like all men, our cultured friend had a weakness. And apparently, his was a dominatrix called Madam Triple X.
Thanks to our spidey friend back in Destiny, we had managed an appointment with the very popular Madam Triple X.
She had agreed to talk to us, for a fee, of course. Her clients’ confidentially was of the utmost importance, but clearly for sale if the price was right.
Tall, with the body of a goddess, she didn’t exude the viciousness some doms made a profitable living from. Her voice was calm. Smooth. Almost gentle. And very, very addictive.
“How well do you know Martel?” Bull asked.
“Well enough that I can make him come on command,” she said very matter-of-factly. She straightened and gestured to the bourbon. “Please, gentlemen, enjoy.”
Smoothing down the front of her PVC corset, she sat down across from us and crossed her long legs. She exuded a sexual energy that was as potent as it was apparent.
“And he talked to you about his involvement with the Salvaj?” Bull said, ignoring the bourbon.
“He thinks he’s very secretive. But there’s a certain amount of vulnerability when you’re indulging in your pleasures. I overheard him talking once. Heard him mention the Salvaj. It piqued my interest. So I questioned him while I tortured him. Just the way he likes it. And he eventually admitted to me that he used the Salvaj name as a shield, but wasn’t actually involved with them at all.”
“Then what happened,” I asked.
She looked at me. “Then he came.”
The look on her face was pure heat.
Pure seduction.
“You’re sure?” Bull questioned her.
“That he came? Oh, I can assure you he did.”
Bull’s eyebrow went up. “I mean, about the Salvaj.”
She looked almost amused. “I have a diverse clientele, Mr. Bull. From wealthy businessmen and rock stars, to teachers, doctors, and the political elite. I most assuredly know when someone is lying.”