Page 55 of Everest

“Stop teasing and fuck me already,” I snap.

There is no mistake about the glint in Kallum’s eyes when I peer back at him. “I’m going to like fightin’ with you,” he confesses just before slamming into me. “Your smart mouth is the sexiest thing about you.”

My breath catches in my throat as I fight like crazy, not to make a sound. Behind me, Kallum shows no mercy while he drills into me. “Don’t stop,” I beg.

Kallum’s fingers dig into my hips, and there is no doubt he will leave his mark. When I confessed he was the best I’ve ever had, I wasn’t lying. No man has ever come close to satisfying or filling me the way Kallum does.

He was made just for me.

“I’m close,” I pant the second my orgasm starts to build. As soon as the words slip past my lips, Kallum lets go of my hips. One arm curls around my belly, lifting me off the desk and flush against his chest while his hand wraps around the front of my neck. The hand on my neck constricts as he growls into my ear. “Be a good girl and come for me.” His command is my undoing. On instinct, I seek out his mouth. Kallum wastes no time giving me what I crave, and I cry into his mouth as my orgasm crashes through me.

15

EVEREST

Outside, the sun is long gone, and inside, the clubhouse is filled with the low hum of the women unwinding after getting kids settled while we men hash out intel over a cold beer. We’ve been at this table for hours, running down every name, location, and rumor tied to Velasco, and we still have nothing solid. Nothing but whispers and cold trails. We’re trying to piece together a puzzle when half the pieces are missing.

Tony’s club trashed, and him getting beat was another message, one we heard loud and clear. He’s close, proving he doesn’t give a damn who he burns to get what he’s after. But unfortunately for Velasco, it didn't have the desired effect. It only threw gasoline on the fire.

The low rumble of tires crunching gravel outside draws everyone’s attention. More than the fact that it’s late, not many people roll up unannounced. Not unless they’ve got a damn good reason.

Catcher steps inside, his voice calm but alert. “Tony’s here.”

Riggs narrows his eyes. “Show him in.” He lifts his gaze to the women. One look is all it takes. The women don’t say a word and clear the room.

A beat passes, then the front door opens, and Tony walks in, favoring his left side, eyes bruised and swollen. But he carries his injuries with a kind of grit you can’t fake.

Tony meets Riggs and stares from across the room. “Appreciate you seeing me.” His voice is rough but steady.

Riggs nods to an empty chair. “Have a seat.”

Fender pours the old man a shot of whiskey and slides it across the table. Tony accepts the drink, sipping it slowly.

Tony sets the glass down, and his eyes sweep the table as he eases onto the chair. “Not here to bitch about what happened. I’m here to give you what I got.”

I lean back, crossing my arms, waiting for the old man's words.

“I know you're already digging, but I did a little of my own on this Velasco fella.” Tony lets the name hang in the air like smoke. “I don’t have much. No one knows what this bastard looks like. Not anyone who is still breathing, anyway. He’s like a fucking ghost. People never talk to him directly. He has runners, guys who move through the shadows. Word on the street is they call him Sombra. It means shadow or some shit, depending on who you ask.”

Riggs nods. “That tracks with what we know.”

Tony gives a tight smile. “He doesn’t just hide behind people. He becomes someone else when needed. From what I hear, he changes names, trades accents, and slips into new skin like it’s nothing. You could be drinking next to him in a bar and not know it unless he wanted you to.”

A chill works its way up my spine. The kind of enemy you can’t see coming is the most dangerous.

Tony continues, “He’s got a guy, goes by the name Tito, who acts as a middleman in Baton Rouge. I hear Tito’s been active lately, recruiting muscle, paying off low-level street dealers to keep tabs on people.”

“Which people?” Wick asks.

“The Kings,” Tony says.

That gets everyone’s attention.

“Who gave you this information?” Nova asks.

Tony’s eyes flick to my brother. “Not revealing my sources. Hope you can respect that.” Tony pauses. When nothing is questioned, he continues, “This source used to run with a crew that dealt on the west bank. They’re small-time, but they hear things, and this Tito’s been runnin’ around with the club’s name in his mouth. Also heard him mention the youth center, Twisted Throttle, and Kings Tactical. Seems Velasco has feelers everywhere.”

Riggs leans back, arms crossed. “You said no one knows what he looks like?”

---