Page 40 of Cipher

Bex climbed onto the Harley behind me, slid both arms around my waist, and pressed the warm length of her body against my back before I’d finished settling the bike beneath us. Her thighs closed around my hips as I pulled away from the house, and every vibration traveling through the seat seemed designed to remind me how those same legs had locked around me in our bed over the past three nights. By the time we reached the first private gate, my cock was rock hard, and my concentration had divided between the winding road ahead and the memory of Bex beneath me, blond hair spread across our pillows while she took every hard thrust and cried my name.

I’d considered taking the SUV because the investigation had tightened enough that predictable movement remained a liability. Still, the route from our house to the compound never crossed public land, and every approach stayed beneath Black Crowns surveillance. More importantly, I wanted her on my bike, holding me with the unquestioning trust reserved for a man she knew would never let the machine—or anything else—hurt her. When she shifted closer on the final curve and her hand flattened beneath my cut, the satisfaction that drove through my chest was nearly as strong as the need grinding lower.

The clubhouse came into view beyond the controlled turn, bikes lined near the front and enough brothers moving through the yard to make the place feel active without becoming chaotic. Bex waited until I killed the engine before letting go and removing her helmet. I turned to help steady her as she climbed off the bike. When she was steady on her feet, I dismounted, then pulled her soft body into mine. I brushed a soft kiss over her lips and tucked her into my side.

The wicked smile curving her mouth told me she had noticed exactly how hard the ride had left me.

“You good?” I asked in a gravelly voice.

“Absolutely.” Her gaze dropped briefly toward the front of my jeans before returning to mine with far too much innocence. “You?”

“What do you think?” I deadpanned.

Bex’s smile widened, and she leaned into me when I kissed her. As much as I wanted to linger, I ended the kiss before church started without me. Then I kept my palm at the base of her spine while we entered the clubhouse.

Jacqueline was in the lounge near the windows, curled into one end of a leather couch with a folder of rehabilitation-barn designs open across her lap. Bex immediately crossed toward her, but my hand stayed around her waist until the last possible second, releasing only when Jacqueline stood to hug her. Stryker’s wife looked between us with eyes carrying enough satisfaction to make me wonder what private conversation the two women had already shared.

“I have church.” I hooked a finger beneath Bex’s chin and tipped her face up. “Be good.”

She arched one brow. “I’m always good.”

I grinned and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t think good girls get off their man’s filthy mouth, baby. And you definitely come harder when I get dirty.”

Bex’s breath hitched, and I kissed the rapid pulse beating in her throat before straightening.

Her face was ten shades of red, but her eyes were burning with desire. She swallowed hard, but then her lips curled into a wicked smirk as she smoothed one hand over my cut, gliding down until her fingers dusted lightly over the bulge in my leather pants. “Guess that gives you plenty to fantasize about while you go do your club business, Corbin.”

A growl rumbled low in my chest, and I contemplated just how pissed my prez would be if I was late. Despite how obsessed he was with his woman, I had a feeling he wouldn’t care that my tardiness was because I’d dragged my woman to the nearest empty room and fucked her until we both passed out. Especially since he’d called the meeting so I could share the information I’d uncovered. I sighed before kissing Bex’s forehead, then her mouth because the first one didn’t satisfy me.

When I entered the office, Stryker sat behind his desk with Hawkeye leaning against one corner. Bishop occupied one of the leather chairs, looking. Judge, Ghost, Ledger, Nomad, Falcon, Smoke, and Skyfall filled the remaining chairs, their attention shifting to me as I connected my tablet to the secure display.

“Six confirmed,” I told the men around the table before bringing them up to speed on everything I’d learned over the past three days. Finally, I pulled up a stripped-down timeline. “Darren Pike appears to broker the work, physically verify locations, and pass information to the buyer. An unknown county employee supplies confidential case information, victim details, and patrol gaps. Eric Stowe, or someone using his vendor credentials, cleans the digital trail before or during the job.”

Judge rested both forearms against the table, his eyes narrowing on the overlaps. “You certain we’re looking at three different people?”

“No. Three functions. Could be two people if the county insider stole Stowe’s credentials. Could be three if Stowe’s involved.”

“Pike meet anyone useful yet?” Stryker asked Nomad.

He shook his head, but I jumped in and answered for him. “Kept his normal routine. Office, courthouse, coffee, and home. Except a quip skip trace in Vista. No visitors either.”

Falcon leaned back, the quiet stillness of the former Green Beret making his answer sound more certain than emphasis ever could. “He’d never notice ours, but he knows how to spot a lazy tail. Changed lanes twice yesterday, doubled around a shopping center, and watched his mirrors at every long light.”

“He’s nervous,” Hawkeye observed.

“Or careful by habit,” I mused.

Stryker nodded. “We’ll watch until he leads us to the county contact. Pike’s the only conspirator with a name and face, which makes him more useful moving than restrained.”

“For the moment,” Smoke added.

Nobody disagreed.

I narrowed the pool of county personnel whose schedules overlapped with the six jobs, then cross-referenced the vendor-access windows associated with Stowe’s company. We had eliminated enough innocent employees to make physical surveillance practical without spreading the club thin, but every remaining name had legitimate reasons to move through the department and contact technology vendors.

My tablet vibrated against the conference table before Judge finished asking about one deputy’s overtime pattern. The protected-family profile had registered Bex leaving the lounge, and I opened the camera tile in the upper corner without interrupting him. Bex walked through the common room beside Jacqueline, both women carrying empty mugs as they headed into the kitchen.

I switched to the kitchen feed and watched Bex rinse the cups while Jacqueline opened the refrigerator. Nothing about the movement suggested danger, but I tracked them anyway, enlarging the next tile when they crossed to the rear door and stepped onto the covered porch. Bex settled into one of the chairs facing the back acreage, and only after I confirmed Wraith remained visible near the steps did I return the tablet to the timeline.