Torpedo (Bones MC 7) Read online

  Torpedo (Bones MC 7)

  Marteeka Karland

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland

  BIN: 009295-03010

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  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  315 N. Centre St.

  Martinsburg, WV 25404

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Katriena Knights

  Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland

  Adult Sexual Content

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  Table of Contents

  Torpedo (Bones MC 7)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Marteeka Karland

  Torpedo (Bones MC 7)

  Marteeka Karland

  Ambrosia -- When I went to the penthouse, I was expecting a playboy. I wasn’t even surprised when the playboy in question answered the door stark naked. The gun surprised me, but, hey. I just roll with it because it’s a job. Given my present circumstances, work is hard to come by. My crazy ex, Tyler, got put in prison, and his equally crazy father, Richmond, decided it was my fault. He’s managed to get me fired from every job and kicked out of every apartment I’ve landed since. What I need is a hero. Unfortunately, those are in short supply. Until I catch the attention of a crazy, naked man wielding a gun. Sensing a theme here?

  Torpedo -- After more than a month on the roof of the world, I’m ready for some sunshine. The last thing I need or expect is another woman vying for my attention. The cute little thing who has the job of being my personal butler while I’m on vacation changes all that. She’s professional and courteous, never coming on to me like most women do. Lord knows I gave her reason to, answering the door naked as the day I was born. She runs fast enough when I inform her I was in the middle of a self-pleasuring session, though. Can you see my smirk? Unfortunately, she doesn’t need a naked man in her life. She needs a hero. One to slay her demons. Fortunately for her, that man is me.

  Chapter One

  The sun beat down like an everlasting holy light. Torpedo basked in it. Scotch in hand, he sipped the amber liquid, savoring the burn. After a month in the cold of the Himalayas, he needed this respite. He was a big man, and spending so much time at high altitude hadn’t been easy. Most mountain climbers are slight and wiry. He was tall and heavily muscled. The guide his client had been with had smirked at him the way only an experienced mountaineer could smirk at an amateur who thought he could play with the big boys.

  Well, it hadn’t been his Goddamned idea in the first fucking place. Little princess meant to show her daddy she could do whatever the fuck she wanted. Daddy had been determined to have someone baby sit her, given the recent threats to him. Torpedo couldn’t blame the man for wanting to protect his daughter, but, honestly, the she’d been a bitch about it. She’d done everything she could to make it hard on Torpedo, Shadow, and Vicious, choosing destinations that would be the hardest on the team of big paramilitary bikers.

  Fucking bitch.

  Just thinking about the situation now made his hackles rise. Had Bones, or more correctly ExFil, been actually calling the shots like they should have been, they’d have never left the Goddamned country. Hell, they might not have left the fucking house. It had cost Shadow and Vicious a lovely case of pulmonary edema for which they were still being treated in the hospital. It had cost Daddy’s little princess a busted ass. And not in a good way either. That episode had been both repugnant and satisfying.

  Had it been any other woman but the spoiled little rich girl, he’d have gladly given her more. The woman had clearly enjoyed her spanking, but she’d disqualified herself from being fucked by virtue of the fact she was a bitch. And her voice got on Torpedo’s ever-loving last nerve. She was a whiner. Even doing what she’d chosen to do, she whined the whole time. It was too cold. The sun was too powerful so high up on the mountain, and her fair complexion burned easily. Her feet hurt. The wind burned the delicate skin of her cheeks. No. Really. Where’s the bathroom? Blah, blah, blah.

  When Shadow’d had to be carried down the mountain, Torpedo had turned her around and marched her right behind the caravan to the village where he’d called in a helicopter. He could have done it from the camp where they’d all gathered, but Shadow was too big for the type of chopper that could fly at the high altitude. Torpedo had thought it only fair that she’d have to walk down behind Shadow’s stretcher. She’d not only made his team miserable, but she’d damned near gotten two of them killed. He’d lectured her the entire way down the mountain. Even Shadow, the man with infinite patience, had given her a piece of his mind. When he could breathe well enough to talk, that is. Then Torpedo had continued over the internal headset while they were on the helicopter. When they’d gotten on a plane to go back to the States, he’d lectured her some more. Then all the way from the airport to Miami, where her father was waiting in the limo to take her home. She’d bolted from the plane in tears, and Torpedo flipped her off as she went.

  Her daddy hadn’t been happy about the hand gesture, but he’d warned them she could be a handful. Apparently, no one had ever spoken to her harshly in her life. Well, as far as Torpedo was concerned, it had been past time. The really funny thing was she’d texted and called him in the days following his departure, trying to get him to go out with her. Or to simply get together to fuck. His response? “Not if your pussy was the last Goddamned pussy on the motherfucking earth.”

  Now he sat by the pool, soaking up the gloriously warm sunshine, letting his body heal and looking forward to welcoming his brothers to the little vacation the girl’s daddy had funded for them. If all went well, Shadow and Vicious would join him in a few more days. Once they were out, the clock would start. They had a month vacation in the lap of luxury coming once all of them were out of the hospital. He got extra as a reward for not killing the man’s daughter.

  He was currently relaxing in the Imperial Suite at the Breakers Palm Beach. He had access to all the resort had to offer at no cost, and he was utilizing every last fucking amenity. He’d been assured by Cain that the wealthy client was picking up the tab, so Torpedo could give a fuck how much money he spent. While sitting idle wasn’t his thing, there were many things he could do in the city to pass the time. Like hang out with Bones’ sister club. Salvation’s Bane in Palm Beach was filled with employees of ExFil the same as Bones. As far as
Torpedo was concerned, they were all brothers and sisters. Vicious was a member of Salvation’s Bane, and Torpedo couldn’t have asked for a better man at his back.

  Having been in the cold for so many days, Torpedo was thoroughly enjoying the sunshine. Naked. By the private pool on the balcony. Well. It had been a hot tub, but he’d cooled down the water and now it was a pool. Of sorts. Anyway, the point was he was warm and not bundled in layers of high-tech cold-weather gear on top of a fucking mountain where the air was too thin to breathe. Fucking paradise.

  The chime that signaled someone was at the door made him want to throw a punch. He’d only been here a couple of hours. Neither Shadow nor Vicious were due for a few more days. Which meant someone he didn’t know or want in his private oasis was intruding. So help him, if it was that fucking woman, he was going to shoot her.

  Gritting his teeth, he stomped to the door, not bothering to put on his shorts or wrap a towel around himself. Fuck ‘em. They didn’t wanna see his junk, they could damned well leave him the fuck alone. On the way to the door, he snagged his Sig Sauer.

  “Who the fuck goes there?” He chambered a round and flung open the door, holding the gun at his side. His gaze met a pair of champagne colored eyes, belonging to the most extraordinary looking woman he’d ever seen in his life. She was dressed in a conservative pantsuit with sensible pump heels, her inky black hair in some kind of complicated twist away from her face. Her body was compact and small. Stood nearly a foot shorter than him. Even in the pantsuit, she had lush curves and a nipped in waist. Her makeup was understated, applied carefully to enhance her natural beauty, not to cover up flaws or give the illusion she was something she wasn’t. There should have been nothing sexy at all about her, but Torpedo thought she was easily the most alluring woman he’d ever imagined.

  If his nakedness -- or the gun -- bothered her, she didn’t give any outward sign. Her gaze stayed firmly on his, her features serene and friendly. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ferguson. My name is Rose, and I’ll be your personal butler while you visit us. I trust your accommodations meet with your needs and approval?”

  Torpedo looked at her for long, long moments, trying to decide if she was for real or some prank being played on him by his brothers. It would be just like them to throw him a curve in the form of a luscious female, Days of Thunder style. “Butler.”

  “Yes, sir. Anything you require, all you have to do is pick up the phone.” She indicated one on the table across from the elevator in the foyer. “Any land-line phone from your room reaches me automatically when you pick it up.”

  “And what services, exactly, does a butler perform in this hotel?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gun hand on top at the ready.

  “Anything you desire.” Her expression didn’t change. No color leapt into her cheeks. The pulse at her throat didn’t increase. Her breathing was still nice and even. If the thought of sex as a service entered her mind, she wasn’t overly excited by it. Torpedo wished he could say the same for himself. His cock had begun to stiffen as he looked his fill at the little beauty dropped at his door. Oh, the possibilities…

  “I can think of a few things I need,” he said, grinning. Realizing she wasn’t impressed by the gun, Torpedo unchambered his round and removed the clip. “Come on in. No use standin’ out here when there’s sun to be bakin’ in.”

  Without waiting to see if the young woman followed him, Torpedo sauntered back to the pool and the balcony. He plopped down on a lounge chair and draped one leg over the side lazily as he poured himself another Scotch.

  “Can I offer you some whisky?” He knew the girl wouldn’t take his offer, but it amused him to make it.

  “I’m afraid not, Mr. Ferguson.” Her smile was gentle. For some reason he expected her to either be flustered or snobbish about the drink, but she was simply matter-of-fact, as if she thought he was offering only because it was socially prudent for him to do so. Torpedo could have told her he could give a flying fuck about social decorum. He just wanted to get her drunk and see if she’d loosen up a little.

  He shot his glass, savoring the burn all the way to his cock. “Your loss. It’s the good stuff.”

  “I hope you enjoy it, then.” She clasped her hands loosely in front of her. “Now, let’s talk about your expectations for your stay. My understanding is that you and two more guests will occupy this suite for the next thirty days. Is that correct?”

  “Thirty days from the time they arrive,” he qualified. “They’re still in the hospital. If they don’t get out for another week, then it will be thirty-seven days.”

  Immediately, her expression took on a concerned mien. “Is everything all right?”

  “Hazard of the job,” he said, annoyance washing over him once more. “Little piece of advice, honey. If someone is hired to protect you, do what they say and don’t deliberately make it difficult for them. I guarantee you, they don’t want to babysit you any more than you want them to.”

  “I see,” she said, nodding as if she really did. “I suppose if I thought it necessary to have a bodyguard, I’d be foolish not to follow their advice.”

  “Exactly!” He sat back on the lounger to relax, closing his eyes and simply basking in the sun. God, it felt good! He couldn’t describe how incredibly good the heat felt on his skin. He also knew that, if he pretended not to be aware of her, the girl could look her fill of him. Which made him smile.

  For all his faults, Torpedo knew he was a good-looking man. Sure, he was scarred and rough around the edges, but his body was rock hard and ripped with muscle. Women loved looking at him, and he enjoyed the attention.

  She cleared her throat delicately. When he opened his eyes, she had the little serene smile on her face again, her soft, golden-brown eyes looking directly into his.

  “About your stay here.” Torpedo could have groaned. The girl was like a dog with a bone. “Are there any events you’d like to plan? Any activities away from the hotel I can set up for you?”

  Torpedo grinned at her before closing his eyes again. “I’d like a woman available to me at all times. I’ve been on a fuckin’ mountain for more than a month in less than desirable conditions. Even if I’d had a woman I cared to fuck, sex wasn’t an option. I intend to catch up while I’m on vacation.”

  “That can certainly be arranged. Will your companions be needing the same?”

  His eyes snapped open. Was she serious? “I don’t want a hooker, woman. I need a woman who’s not only willing but enthusiastic.” This wasn’t working out like he’d planned. He’d hoped to shock her. Get her sputtering with indignation before she left.

  “We have services we use for just such occasions. They’re more… companions,” she qualified delicately, “but what goes on in private stays there. If you’ll just tell me what type of woman you’d be interested in, I’ll get to work.” The woman actually took out a tablet and stylus and started making notes.

  “Look… Rose, is it?” When she nodded, he continued. “I’m in a really bad way here.” He waved to his cock, which was at half-mast currently. “I was in the middle of some languid self-pleasuring when you interrupted me, so, unless you intend to take care of this yourself, I suggest you leave. OK?”

  Her eyes rounded slightly. Finally! A reaction from her! “I -- I apologize, Mr. Ferguson. I had no intention of being in your way.” She stood immediately. “I’ll return at a later time. And, again, I’m so sorry!” The girl seemed genuinely distressed, and not about his suggestion she get him off. No. She was worried she’d disturbed him. Gotten in the way, as she’d said. For some reason, that nettled Torpedo. He wanted to get under her skin. Make her angry. Not distress her.

  “Stop,” he commanded. She’d been about halfway to the door but did as he commanded, standing perfectly still with her head down. With a sigh, he got up from the lounger and snagged a towel, wrapping it around his waist. “I’m sorry,” he said as he neared her. Gently, he touched her shoulder and turned her to face him. “I was bein’ an ass be
cause I’ve been in a bad fuckin’ mood for a fuckin’ month, and I was taking it out on you. That was wrong of me.”

  Her expression was perfectly blank. Not even a hint remained of that little smile she’d had. “The fault was mine for not taking a hint. I’ve been met at the door by nude men before who just wanted to shock me.”

  “That wasn’t my primary goal, but once you didn’t react, it rapidly moved up the priority list.”

  She nodded once, acknowledging him before squaring her shoulders once again. “I’ll leave you alone,” she said. “Would it be all right to return at five o’clock this evening?”

  Torpedo almost told her to stay, but there was something in her eyes that made him hesitate. He’d spooked her. Frightening wasn’t the same as irritating. Better to start with a clean slate. “Five would be perfect. I’ll try to make a better impression,” he said wryly.

  “Very well.” She didn’t comment on his last statement, only gave a curt nod and turned to leave. Even in the conservative pantsuit, her ass was a thing of beauty as she strode across the foyer to the elevator. He tilted his head, staring at that perfect ass again until she turned to press the button to take her to her floor. Their eyes met, and he swore he saw the sheen of tears.

  Once Rose was gone, Torpedo scrubbed his hand over his face in agitation. Maybe his last assignment had gotten to him more than it should have. This woman certainly didn’t deserve his attitude. She was probably worried about being fired. He imagined that, at this hotel, if a guest complained about the staff, especially one in the position she was in where her primary job was to make the stay as smooth as possible, that staff member would no longer have a job.

  “Fuck.”

  He had two hours to get himself into a better mood, showered, shaved, and make himself into a domesticated biker. Laughable. Oh well. There was nothing for it now except to act like he had some sense when she came back.