Twisted Secrets: Book 3 of the Twisted Minds Series- THE FINALE Read online

  Her responses urged me to give it to her however she wanted it. Her reactions were the best motivators and gave me the strength I needed to force my body to last for as long as I could go, even when my mind screamed for me explode inside her.

  “Oh, my fucking God!” I roared. Vocalizing how good our sex felt was the only way to keep from going insane. My dick was so slick with her wetness that the wet-hot slippery warmth enticed me to thrust harder, faster.

  Our moans competed with the noise of my thighs slapping against the inside of hers. A deep tingling sensation shot up my spine before my dick kicked and bucked inside her. It literally felt like her pussy was pulling at my entire body. My vision blurred for a few seconds before my world exploded and left me in murmuring pieces as her tight walls clenched around my dick and kept the intoxication zooming through my body.

  Megan must have pulled the covers over us because I passed out after I’d exploded inside her. I couldn’t even recall pulling my dick out of her. I’d slipped clean out of this world, and my mind must have shut down before it returned from the pleasure zone. My eyes fluttered under my lids as I struggled to move my relaxed body. I found the strength and raised my head to see Megan was sitting over me handing me a glass of water.

  My satisfied smile met hers as I reached for the glass. She ran her hand lovingly over my damp back, and I didn’t miss the love she had for me shining in her gaze. How the fuck did she always seem to know what I needed whenever the hell I needed it? And she’d had the nerve to question why I couldn’t let her ass go. She could wipe that shit out of her head. She was never leaving me again if I had anything to say about it.

  Chapter Eight

  Megan

  The least I could do was cook for these men. They were about to take on a group that was aiming to kill them and had no idea I was the reason for it. A hint of embarrassment and a twinge of guilt lingered within me for what they might have heard last night between Aaron and me.

  It was only when the sun shone through the window that I’d seen the damage the headboard had done to the wall. Beige paint had been scratched away, and a series of dents were left along the area where the headboard had repeatedly slammed into the wall.

  Aaron refused to change a thing about how we fucked. He said the crew were all grown and knew what women and men did behind closed doors. But, I didn’t think Aaron and I did what normal people did. We could take an hour nap and be at it again and each time was a new adventure.

  Our sex was addictive, something I assumed would have burned out by now, but it hadn’t. We weren’t even close to slowing down and we were as crazy for each other as we’d been that first two weeks I’d spent with him.

  I reined in my thoughts and inserted the second load of blueberry muffins into the oven before reaching up to turn the bacon. I hissed and tried to shake off the sting as grease popped from the sizzling bacon. I wasn’t sure if the men ate grits, but since they were in the cabinet, I cooked a pot of those as well. The pan of fluffy scrambled eggs sat off to the side as steam rose from them.

  Cooking was like therapy for me. Like running and writing, cooking helped take my mind off the dark cloud that constantly hung over my life. A deep smile took over my lips. Although running, writing, and cooking helped to set my mind at ease, they were nothing compared to what Aaron could do for me. His brand of therapy could literally make me forget that the rest of the world existed. He knew how to make me forget my own name.

  “You cook too?” I jumped at the sound of a voice that had quickly become familiar to me. “No wonder my cousin has lost his mind over you.”

  Ansel’s teasing voice sailed into my ear. The fact that he’d snuck up on me and was close enough for his minty breath to brush my neck proved how deeply I’d sunk into my mind.

  “Good morning. Have a seat, and I’ll fix you a plate.”

  I’d expected that Ansel wouldn’t listen to my suggestion, but he took a seat across the table, facing me. Undoubtedly, so he could watch me. The way he watched me made me nervous. It reminded me of the way I watched Aaron sometimes. The way I studied Aaron was probably not healthy. I studied him with an obsessive curiosity because I wanted to hang on to every memory of him just in case. As I spooned some grits next to Ansel’s eggs, I peeped at him over my shoulder. As I expected, his eyes were laser-locked on me.

  The tension in my shoulders coiled at the idea that I was being studied. When I glanced back once more, I forced a smile although my vexing thoughts never stopped. “Is there anything you don’t eat or like?”

  “No, there’s nothing I won’t eat,” he answered, and I could tell he wasn’t talking about food.

  I added two muffins and some bacon to the plate I’d started. When I placed the food in front of Ansel, it wasn’t hard to discern that my actions had stirred his curiosity about me. I think I confused him.

  “Orange juice or water?” I asked.

  “Juice, baby. Get me some juice,” he answered in a seductive tone that made me smile at his antics. Maybe I didn’t confuse him. After I placed the glass of juice in front of him, he caught my wrist before I could move it away from him.

  There was no use hiding the fact that his touch had my hand shaking. It wasn’t fright that Ansel set off in me. He set my nerves on edge—made them frantic and charged like exposed wires. I was good at taking myself out of the spotlight, but with this group, especially with Ansel, I felt like I was center stage.

  “You do this kind of thing for my cousin?” he asked. I could tell by the curiosity in his gaze that his intention wasn’t to scare me. It seemed he was fighting to understand me.

  “Yes. All the time,” I answered, trying but failing to keep my voice steady. “He said he likes my cooking, and I like to cook, so…”

  After I eased my wrist out of Ansel’s strong hold, I returned to the stove to remove the bacon. I needed the grease to pop on me now to ease the tension still rolling through my body.

  The sound of approaching male voices alerted me that more men were coming. I recognized Shark’s voice, and I was willing to bet that Wade was with him. Shark and Wade seemed the closest of all the men. As far as I had figured out, Wade was Shark’s half-brother. They had different mothers but shared a father. This made Wade, Aaron’s uncle although he was only four years older than Aaron.

  Their plates were fixed and ready by the time they took their seats at the table. Neither of the men greeted me good morning, and I hadn’t expected them too. Shark sat at the head of the table next to Ansel, and Wade sat behind me with his back to me.

  Ansel watched me with intense curiosity as I placed Shark’s plate in front of him. I reached back for Wade’s plate and placed his as well. After I set the men’s juice in front of them, I went back to the stove to remove the second pan of muffins.

  A low chatter among the men started behind me. This situation was new to Ansel, so I understood some aspects of his curiosity. The men and I had never had a verbal relationship, but I think we respected each other enough that our non-verbal communication was enough.

  As the thump of the next set of boots grew closer, I realized it was none other than Aaron. It was shameful that I knew the man’s footsteps.

  Thankfully, I was turned away from Aaron as he made his approach because my smile spread about as wide as the table was long. I’d finally accepted that I loved that man with everything I had, so it was difficult to keep my emotions in check when I was around him.

  When strong hands slid around my waist and warm lips caressed my neck, my body damn near melted as fast as the butter melted across the muffins. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had a problem keeping their emotions in check. I never suspected that Aaron would engage in public displays of affection. But, when it came to his relationship with me, there were no clear-cut explanations.

  “Good morning,” he whispered in my ear before he nipped my earlobe.

  “Good morning,” I replied in a low tone as embarrassment warmed my brown cheeks, likely lighting
them with a pinkish glow. The silence in the kitchen let me know that we had an audience. I swallowed the awkward state I was left in when Aaron stepped away from me. He sat across the table next to Ansel. When I turned to bring Aaron his plate, Shark and Ansel’s unreadable glares were fixed on me. Their unwavering stares filled me with a hint of unease as both seemed ready to spill whatever comment teetered on their tongues.

  My tension didn’t let up until I was standing next to Aaron, placing his plate in front of him. My hand brushed across his back lovingly. The action was almost automatic, and I didn’t realize I’d done it until after it had occurred. Now, I was the one making public displays of affection.

  It was becoming apparently clear that we didn’t have any control over how we reacted to each other. I couldn’t be close to Aaron and not want to touch him. When I returned to the table with his glass of juice, Shark had dropped his gaze, but Ansel’s hard stare remained on me. He obviously was still having trouble figuring it all out, although I knew Aaron had told him my story.

  Wade cleared his throat, and without looking in my direction, he asked, “Hey, Megan, can I get another one of those muffins?”

  “Sure,” I replied, surprised but glad when someone other than Aaron talked to me. I lifted the fattest muffin with a set of plastic tongs and placed it on Wade’s plate.

  “Thanks,” he said in a low tone.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Ansel’s eyes widened as he glanced back and forth between me and everyone at the table. I could literally see his eyes volleying between us all. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his head. Hell, I was still figuring it out.

  Returning to my station at the stove, I turned the last of the bacon as the men engaged in an animated conversation about sports. Thankfully, the lively discussion took the focus off me. Two more men joined the group: Shane and someone whose name I didn’t know, but I had seen before. The noise level increased with the additional men.

  Ansel participated in the boisterous conversation, but his eyes never strayed too far away from me and my non-verbal interactions with the MC. Aaron’s face was likely unreadable to the rest of the table, but I was sure his positive facial expressions each time we made eye contact were reminders that I didn’t have anything to worry about where the MC was concerned.

  Although the table was full, I’d counted eight men left in the house last night. For the final two men, I fixed and wrapped them a plate and left it on the stove. Even if the men never came for their plates, I didn’t have to worry about the food going to waste. I knew from experience that this was a group that wasn’t going to let a cooked meal go uneaten.

  As the table started to thin, I began the process of washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen. Aaron sent me a slight head nod when he walked out with his father and his uncle. By the time I had everything cleaned, the only body left sitting behind me was none other than Ansel. His eyes were literally burning a hole in my back. I could sense him staring across the table at me. Although I wasn’t as nervous as before, his presence still had me a bit uneasy.

  For reasons I had yet to understand, I sensed that I could talk to Ansel, despite his alarming stare. I turned and faced him. Now, if only I could get him to stop staring at me.

  My arms folded over my chest before I took a step closer, grateful that the table was between us. “What is it?” I asked. “Why do you keep staring at me like that?”

  “I think I’m starting to get it now,” Ansel stated. “At first, I thought my cousin had lost his damn mind, but the pieces are starting to fall into place.”

  My forehead creased. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but he didn’t say anything else. He got up from the table and left me standing there confused.

  Chapter Nine

  Aaron

  Three days later, I was comfortable enough to leave Megan at the safe house. My dad and the other chairmen handled ongoing business, and they’d grabbed a few of the prospects to help clean and board up the clubhouse. I hadn’t asked and didn’t have any doubt that Megan could handle herself if she had to, but there was always someone at the safe house with her without me having to ask someone to stay.

  Ansel and I had searched every corner of Copper County, attempting to track down the group that had shot my father, shot up our clubhouse, and fired at Megan and me. Ansel rode shotgun with me in my truck, speaking on the phone with one of his contacts to see if members of DG6 had made their way into Copper County.

  “Okay, thanks,” he concluded. He swiped the screen and gripped his phone in his clenched hand as his chin pulled tight.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Nothing. As far as my FBI contact knows, DG6 hasn’t made a move from any of the spots they have eyes on. Trust me, the FBI, ATF, and probably, the damn CIA are watching them. They can hardly take a good shit without eyes on them. But, those motherfuckers have paid so many people off that they still manage to conduct their illegal business without resistance.”

  “So, your contact…how do you know you can trust him?”

  Ansel’s devious smile spread wide before he tucked his lip and sucked his teeth.

  “My contact is a she, and I can trust her because she is one of my subs.”

  My gaze left the road as my neck snapped in my cousin’s direction.

  “No shit! The FBI is into that life too?”

  Ansel laughed, shaking his head at me like I was the one missing out.

  “Fucking right. You’d be surprised at how many pantsuit-wearing motherfuckers like to be tied and whipped and even tortured. You’d be surprised at what gets some of those tricky motherfuckers off.”

  I didn’t think I wanted to know. Ansel had fallen head first into that life after he’d met a widow who convinced him that he would make the perfect Dom. Ansel attempted to convince me to embrace the life after introducing me to two of his subs. Of course, I slept with them, had even tied them up and made them beg for my dick, but that life required too much planning and thinking for me.

  The role playing, the sex toys, the safe words. I preferred to get straight to the point when it came to sex, and I didn’t want a motherfucker beating on me or teasing me before we fucked each other. However, I don’t think I’d have a problem with letting Megan do whatever her little heart desired.

  Ansel continued. “If DG6 hasn’t made a move, that doesn’t mean they haven’t contracted a group to do the job. You did say the ones you encountered acted like mercenaries, possibly a paramilitary group, right?”

  As the scene replayed in my head, I nodded absently. My cousin was a better puzzle solver than I was, but Ansel’s problem was his patience. I had a short supply of patience myself, but Ansel wanted what he wanted when he wanted it and rarely made compromises.

  “DG6 could be testing us with their first line of defense. So, they can adjust and up the ante on us to try to weed out our weaknesses,” I added.

  “Now, you’re catching on, grasshopper,” Ansel replied, like he was teaching me something.

  He liked talking to me like I was the younger one, but I was older than him by a year. Fortunately, we’d both spent some time in the military. Not only did we have a desire to prove ourselves as men, but we’d siphoned the rigorous training we knew we’d need, being who we were in a family like ours.

  I’d spent four years in the marines from age twenty to twenty-four, and Ansel followed suit three months after I’d joined. He’d spent four years in the army. We both aimed for the toughest training and hardest assignments. He’d made it onto a ranger team, and I’d made my way onto an off-the-books black-ops unit.

  After surviving dangerous deployments and missions that didn’t exist as far as the government was concerned, we both fell right back into the illegal shit our family had always participated in upon our return home.

  If we were going to find any viable leads on this group hunting Megan, I had to call on my secret weapon. After the first ring, D answered my call.

  “D, we
need to talk, but I need you to make my phone so nobody can hear us talking.”

  Ansel glared at me but didn’t comment. He wasn’t the only one who had contacts. I didn’t trust this group that was hunting us. They’d tracked Megan to Copper County and had found our clubhouse, so there was no reason to think they hadn’t found ways to spy on us. Ansel knew about as much as I knew. Therefore, he knew I’d finally accepted that DG6 was behind the attack and were hunting for Megan. It only took D a minute to call me back. I placed the call on speaker.

  “We’re clear, Knox. What you got?” D asked.

  “There is a group after my MC to kill us, which is nothing new, but I think it might be DG6 or maybe—”

  “Wait! Pump the fucking brakes, Knox. Did you just say DG6? What the fuck are you doing fucking around with that fucking den of fucking rattlers?”

  Four fucks in one sentence. I’d gotten D’s full attention. Ansel sat listening with a smile plastered across his face.

  “Them motherfuckers train their babies how to shoot before they’re even old enough to take their first steps,” D continued, giving us his interpretation of DG6.

  “D, concentrate on what I’m telling you. I said, I think it might be DG6. It could also be a group that they’ve hired to fuck with us, but my cousin’s contact in the FBI hasn’t been able to track movement on any members of DG6. Will you pull something out of your nerdy hat and see if you can make a connection? Or see if DG6 could have hired somebody to take us out. Fuck, make sure it is DG6 first.”

  An exhausted sigh escaped me, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ansel eyeballing the hell out of me. The sound of D’s fingers already setting fire to a keyboard could be heard over the line. I was about to add more fuel to the fire I’d set in D.