Wirth (Dirty Aces MC #5) - Lane Hart Page 0,28

rip you in half.”

“He’s not as big as you,” I tell him, letting my fingers reach down to wrap around his cock and enjoying the way my touch has him sucking in air.

“You’re trying to kill me, doll,” he grits out.

“I’m trying to make you feel good.”

Wirth’s fingers tighten in the back of my hair, lifting my face so he can lean down and kiss me. When he pulls away, he says, “You do that without touching me.”

Wirth

After an amazing night with Maeve and an even better morning when I made good on my promise to have her for breakfast, I make myself leave her warm, strawberry and vanilla scented bed, intending to do more surveillance in the area before heading home – this time at the only Irish pub in town.

All I know is that I was fucking relieved when Maeve mentioned her brother. That must have been the man I saw yesterday. I’m a dick for thinking the worst.

“I had fun,” I tell Maeve, leaning over to kiss her lips where she’s still tangled up in the sheets, even though the words don’t seem quite adequate enough.

“Me too,” she says with a smile. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah, we should,” I agree. But in the light of day, and without a heavy dick, it’s a little easier for me to remember that I can’t completely trust Maeve just yet. I need to try and keep myself from falling for her even more until I know for certain that she didn’t have anything to do with the shooting at the Knights’ bar. I also want to make certain she isn’t fucking anyone else now that we’re…doing whatever it is we’re doing.

“Oh, and I’ve got my paint crew working on your car now. Hopefully it’ll be ready in a few more days.”

“That’s great. Thank you. I don’t have anywhere to go, so there’s no rush.”

“Good. I’ll call when I know more,” I tell her.

“Thanks, Wirth. Have a safe trip back,” she says sweetly.

“Thanks,” I reply before I finally force myself to walk away from her.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if she’s going to see any other men, but I hold back. It’s a little too soon for that conversation. Even if I don’t want to think about her with another man, we’ve only had one night together. One and a half if you count our first time before shit went down at the bar. I have no right to be jealous of how she spends her time apart from me.

As soon as I’m on my bike with my full helmet on to cover my face, I take a trip to the Irish bar on the other side of town. Unfortunately, it becomes pretty obvious that there’s an exit for it off the highway heading back to Carolina Beach, right before the one where I found Maeve changing her tire. There are a ton of other businesses on the same strip, so that’s probably just a coincidence and I’m reading too much into it.

What’s not a coincidence, however, is when I spot the same black sedan that I’m almost certain was at her apartment last night. My blood pressure skyrockets at the sight. I don’t know who I’m more pissed at – Maeve or myself. I fucking knew a man was at her apartment and still I somehow ended up falling right back into bed with her. I’m not sure what would be worse — if it was a guy she was fucking or her brother with connections to the Irish who she would, of course, put before anyone else.

Either way, I’m so fucking pissed I can’t even see straight. I park a block away, hiding my bike between two big trucks to watch the place through my binoculars for a little bit while I seethe and try to figure out what to do.

When a group of guys come walking out of the bar, I put away my binoculars to try and zoom in with my phone to take photos. They’re mostly blurry blobs, but maybe the Knights will recognize one or more of them.

The men divide up into two groups. Some, including the man who definitely has an auburn tint to his hair, get into the black sedan. The others pile into a black Jeep before taking off. I consider following them, but worry that my single motorcycle could stand out. So instead, I make a call, which is probably not the best idea given

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