Royally Tempted (A Royal Sons MC Book 3) Read online

  “They drove around her block, before disappearing. We parked a couple blocks away. I moseyed on in for a closer look on feet. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but we chilled for a few just to be safe. The others kept a lookout in case there was another coming in from the other direction, but so far, all is good. I think they’re just watching her coming and going. If I were to guess, I’d say they’ve got her car tagged.”

  King would agree with that assumption, especially if they had the kind of money it would take to make girls disappear without a trace, and if they were rolling around in pimped out cages like Duke said. “I think we’re dealing with a somewhat sophisticated group here, but also one that is ballsy. You know what that means?”

  Duke snorted. “It means these fuckers are going to hate to meet us in a dark alley.”

  “It means they ain’t gonna meet us in a dark alley because they’ll be too scared for that, yet they’ll think they hold all the cards. Head on back, and I’ll check with Keys. By the time you get here, I’ll probably know more about them than they know about themselves.” King laughed, knowing Keys would likely have found out the type of underwear they bought, just so he dotted all the I’s and crossed every T as well.

  “You need anything before I head back? Maybe a burger, or some lotion to help rub one out? I saw the way you were looking at this one, brother. Remember, we don’t get involved with trouble, and this one looks like she is all capital T R O U B L E.” Duke disconnected before King could tell him to mind his own business.

  “Like I fucking need you to tell me that, little brother.” King looked down at his phone, staring at the screen like it would give him answers. He went back to the computer in front of him, waiting for the files to open from Keys. The first file had been a preliminary one. A surface glance is what Keys called it. This one was deeper.

  Hell, if he wanted he could find out what both sisters had gotten in sixth grade science, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. He was searching for anything that appeared off. A file, or email, some sort of correspondence that shouldn’t be there. Ayesha might look as though she was the sad sister looking for her younger sister, who just might have been tricked into a situation, but she could be setting them up. They were an MC who lived by several rules, never fuck over one another being one of them. However, they also took on jobs that were slightly ethical, but ones the law might not be able to do without a whole lot of red tape. King and his club didn’t like tape, it gave them hives. Besides, the money they got from some of their wealthier clients filled their coffers and allowed them to do pro-bono shit, like pull spoiled little brats like Tiana out of stupid situations. The downside was figuring out if they were being set up. If they were being set up, depending on who was doing it, could mean jail time, or death. Personally, King liked living a whole hell of a lot.

  His phone chimed with an incoming message from Keys. “She appears on the up and up, and you know I’ve looked deep, brother. Need anything else let me know.”

  King swiped his thumb over the lock button, opening up another file, this one containing pictures of both girls. Ayesha had long dark hair in the first, the ends nearly reaching her very round ass. His hand twitched to spank her like she’d tempted him. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had gotten him so hard so fast just by daring him. He shifted in his seat, scrolling through the images. Both girls were dark haired, dark eyed, obviously mixed heritage with their caramel complexion. Ayesha’s hair had been soft and smooth beneath his hand when he’d touched it. He wondered if she was as soft and smooth all over. It took him a second to realize he was fantasizing about a woman he had no right to be thinking that way about. The next image popped onto the screen, a younger version of Ayesha. The girl could be her twin except she hadn’t gotten the fuller curves like her older sister yet. King clicked through the images, freezing as he came to an image of Ayesha dressed in a wedding gown smiling up at a young blonde man in a tux.

  “Little prick looks like he drives a Volvo and likes to play Yahtzee, or Pinochle, or some other all American nerdy ass game.” He sat back in the chair, folding his hands over his stomach.

  What was it about Ayesha that had his insides twisting in knots? Sure she was hot as fuck with curves in all the right places. He liked his women to have a womanly figure, not the typical model body you saw on the covers of magazines, or the ones who looked as though they only ate salads and drank water. No, he wanted a woman who could handle a good hard fucking all night long. A woman who could take what he gave and still look up at him from her perch on her knees, and still ask for more with a smile on her lips, and a little bit of his come sliding out from between her legs. Yeah, he liked it dirty and rough and that sexy little bit of fluff was exactly his type, on the outside. But could she handle who he was and all that came with being his woman?

  Chapter Three

  Time could be your friend or your enemy, depending on what was at stake. King shut down his computer knowing the software Keys had installed would ensure nothing and nobody, short of an alien invasion, would get into it. He headed toward the back of the house and the door to the basement. He didn’t sleep in the room that was kitted out as the master bedroom. Safety had been drilled into all three Royal brothers since they’d been kids. He keyed in the code, unlocking the door to the lower level. Slowly the door that rivaled a bank vault opened, lights flickering on as he descended the stairs. Luke had always joked that if King had been a medieval villain, he’d have surely been a vampire once he’d seen what King had done to the basement of the house. What Luke didn’t know was King and Duke both liked things a little dark and kinky, things that needed a safe and quiet place to play. Of course, maybe their baby brother had known and didn’t approve, but didn’t know how to talk to them about his own needs. “Fuck, I could go around and around inside my head for the rest of my life and never have the answers,” he swore.

  It had been a little over six months since Luke had committed suicide. His little brother. The one he should’ve protected, yet how do you protect them from themselves. He hadn’t even realized Luke had been hurting. Yes, he’d known Luke wasn’t as hardened as he and Duke, Luke’s twin brother, but he’d still been…Luke. He lived with Ivy and…his lover Darian, but they hadn’t known that until it was too late. The thought was still a hard pill to swallow. Not because King couldn’t accept the fact his brother was gay, but because he’d lied. He’d hidden a large part of himself from not just King and Duke, but from the MC. They were family and family took care of one another. Luke may not have been a patched member, but he was King and Duke’s brother. That made him family of the entire MC, period the end.

  King’s hand throbbed from where the bottle had cut into his palm. He went through the large living area at the bottom of the stairs, not seeing the space he created for his pleasure. Off to one side, he had a small kitchenette for days he didn’t want to go upstairs. On the other side, there was a master bedroom with huge bed in it and its own an ensuite to the right of it.

  Inside the bathroom, he dropped the towel next to the shower, along with the rest of his clothes. He stepped in, letting the warm water wash away the day’s dirt and grime. He wished the memories could be as easily rinsed away, but only time could deaden those wounds. After he finished washing off, he stepped out, checking the wound to make sure it was still sealed. Placing a bandage on it was the most King felt like doing, before padding naked into the bedroom and fell into bed. If he was lucky, he’d fall asleep without dreaming of his brother Luke, and how he’d failed him. Nights like tonight, he wished he partook in drugs to help him fall asleep, but just like always, his father’s face appeared, white residue around his nose mixed with blood. He’d been big like King, over six feet tall, not as muscular, but a badass motherfucker you didn’t want to meet in a dark or light alley. Not if Kingston Royal was after you. That was until he’d gotten hooked on cocaine. Those little white lines became his life, his obsession, his bitch, and nothing came
between them, not even the MC. If King hadn’t stepped in, taken over the club as President, many of the members would’ve been behind bars, or six feet under just like their dad.

  King put both arms behind his head, ordering the lights off, thankful he’d had the forethought to install the equipment that was voice activated. Of course, he had backups in case there was a power outage. He wasn’t held to the need for electricity to keep his life running. Once darkness closed in around him, he was able to allow his mind to shut down like usual. Tomorrow he’d work on the Ayesha problem, and yes, he’d already decided to take her on, and that she was going to be a problem. Mainly because his dick was hard just thinking about her, and also because whoever was trailing her clearly had money. He wondered what she’d think of his master suite in the basement, or would she prefer the one upstairs? King growled, fisting his hands beneath his heads and willed his body to relax and let his mind stop thinking of her.

  Human trafficking was a huge business. He knew because they profited by getting girls back from some of those cases. What most people didn’t realize was how easy it was for girls, young girls, to be lured into situations. Traffickers hired young men, or boys, who may or may not know who they’re working for, to befriend these girls, most times using a picture or video against them to get what they want. They take their time, cultivate a relationship, identifying vulnerabilities that they would twist and use to gain what they want. In Ayesha’s sister’s case, Tiana was clearly lonely, missing her parents. Who knows what this guy had on her? Maybe she sent him naked pics, or he could’ve promised her things Ayesha couldn’t give her. King had seen and heard it all in the past five years that they’d been helping to free young girls and women, even a young boy, from situations. Shockingly, it’s not a certain class, or race that gets caught up in human trafficking. Traffickers aren’t even the scourge of society. They’re actually smart, wealthy, well-educated individuals with criminal minds that would rival most serial killers. Hell, the last young woman they pulled out of a hellhole had been duped into believing she was in a relationship with a fucker for over a year, which wasn’t uncommon.

  The number of people, mostly females, enslaved by human trafficking across the country was upwards of forty million, which was why he and his MC did what they did. Of course, it started out for the money, and they still do it for that, but they also do cases like Ayesha’s if those asking for help clear Keys search. When broken down the stats of over eighty thousand per state, and half were minors, with King’s sister having been a victim, it was a no brainer what they do, time and time again. They hadn’t been able to save Maura, but he’d be damned if they didn’t save as many as they could. The fact any number of kids could be sitting next to a girl who was being human trafficked made his blood boil.

  “Fuck, when did I become a damn saint?” he sighed. Slowly, his breathing evened out as he let himself relax, knowing the security measures he’d set up would let him know if anything should trip them.

  Ayesha walked through the house she shared with her sister; her heart felt heavier than ever. She hadn’t realized how much stock she’d put into the rumor Chloe had spouted in her semi-drunken state. “Stupid girls and their stupid shit,” she cried, tossing her purse onto the counter, swiping at a tear that tracked down her cheek, smashed banana between her fingers.

  She turned away from the counter, jerking open the refrigerator, staring at the contents. A half full twelve pack of beer glared at her. Yeah, like getting wasted would do her any good. Heck, the way her luck was going, she’d end up walking outside in her underwear and giving the neighbors a show they’d never forget. Not today, Satan, not today. Grabbing a bottle of the water her sister swore had vitamins and other shit Ayesha was sure was just a gimmick, she headed toward her bedroom, grabbing her purse as she went. Another tear leaked from her eye. “God I hate the silence as much as I hated all the chaos,” she swore.

  As she passed her sister’s bedroom door, the urge to open it and see if she’d returned had her twisting the knob. The Tiffany blue room looked exactly like it had when Tiana left for school just a short time ago. Her bed was made, all her makeup was put away in their spot. For a sixteen year old girl, her sister was usually neat as a pin, always preferring to put things away. Ayesha was the same, hating to come into her bedroom to find an unmade bed, or things not in their proper place. Now, the living room Tiana had no problem leaving things laying around. They had several throws and pillows, even though they lived in California. They kept their house at a nice comfy sixty-eight, which made it a cool temp for when they watched a movie together they would need a throw blanket. “You have to come home, T, or who am I going to binge watch Netflix with?” she asked the quiet room.

  They had a bathroom that they shared, but there was one in the hall off the kitchen for guests. She went into their bathroom, looking at their robes on the back of the door. Tiana’s was pink and fluffy while Ayesha’s was black with teal edges of silk. Again, their differences were glaring. Tiana should be in her room reading a book or watching some YouTube video, not off with some guy—the thought of what could be happening to her sister stopped her in her tracks. “Please be safe, T. I’ll find you.” She gripped the edge of the sink, staring at her reflection, seeing the lines of worry etched on her forehead. “No wonder King didn’t want me.” Hell, she didn’t want him either. Liar, her subconscious mocked her.

  With a swipe of her hand, she knocked off several bottles from the cabinet. Seeing the mess she created, a hysterical laugh bubbled up. Before she knew it, she was laughing, crying as she slid down, her ass hitting the tile floor. She brought her knees up to her chest, hating the absolute desperation that filled every inch of her being with no real sense of direction. Her one and only hope seemed to have been a dead end. Laying her forehead against her knees, she let herself cry, let herself feel pity for the first time since she found Tiana gone and realized what had happened. After what seemed like hours but in reality was probably only minutes later, she pulled herself up, rolled her shoulders back and turned the water on, washing the banana mess from her hand, and splashed her face with the cold water.

  Tomorrow she’d wake up and find a new direction.

  Tomorrow, she’d find another way to track her sister and the bastard who pretended to be someone he wasn’t. She may be a hair stylist, but she wasn’t stupid. Her mind was already thinking of ways to track him. Surely there was someone who’d be willing to look into her situation. God, she wished their parents were still alive.

  Back in her room, everything was perfect, done in soft muted colors, unlike in Tiana’s room with its brighter blue with black accents. She turned back around, wanting to have something of her sister with her. She grabbed the fluffy robe off the back of the door. Tiana’s scent clung to it. She fought back the sob that threatened to overwhelm her. “No, only one breakdown is allowed,” she told herself, taking the robe back into her room. Slowly, she undressed in the walk-in closet, putting on her favorite pajamas with the robe over it. Once she had her dirty clothes in the right hampers, she went back to her room, taking the decorative pillows off one at a time, a process that had driven her husband crazy the short time they were together. After she was done with them, she rolled the comforter back, placing it on the bench at the foot of her bed. She wondered if King was fastidious about his bed, smiling as she thought it. No, she imagined the big man was more than likely a caveman when it came to bed. Hell, he probably had only a fitted sheet with a cover at the most, and that was only if he had a housekeeper. She honestly couldn’t imagine the man caring about such things. She shook herself. Why should she care what he did or didn’t have in his home? It wasn’t like she’d ever see him again after tonight’s fiasco. To be honest, she was lucky to have made it out of his clubhouse without getting herself in big trouble, unlike the one they’d called Groot or whatever his name was. A shudder wracked her when she pictured the beat down he’d gotten by King’s brother. Yeah, she was lucky to have escaped rel
atively unharmed.

  She climbed into bed, feeling like she’d worked a sixteen hour shift on her feet without a break. Her eyes felt gritty from her crying jag, and her heart felt heavy, yet here she was thinking about a man who gave zero fucks about anyone but his precious club. A shiver rolled through her at the intensity she’d witnessed in King’s eyes when he’d spoken. What would it have been like if he’d put that intensity on her?

  “Stop that,” she warned herself. Nothing good could come from anything to do with the big man and his club. Hell, hadn’t she seen a man literally being forced out of the clubhouse bleeding and cursing while nobody had tried to help him? Yeah, she should count her blessings instead of being upset King was a dick. “I bet he has an epic dick though,” she whispered, groaning because she could only imagine the smug smile he’d have if he was aware of her thoughts. Not going to go there, she promised herself, reaching for the remote on the bedside table. With the push of a button, the room went dark. Ayesha was used to falling directly to sleep once she lay down, and tonight was no different, a blessing she was thankful for.

  Duke watched the little woman slide down the wall, her silent cries tearing at his frozen heart. Hell, he almost busted into the house just so he could offer her a brotherly hug, but he had a sneaking suspicion his big brother would beat the ever-loving-shit out of him, or try to. He waited, making sure she pulled herself together before he eased back into the shadows, his MC brothers close behind him.

  “You gonna tell your brother about that?”

  He shook his head, not surprised to find Traeger there. “Not tonight. I have a feeling there’s gonna be a few sleepless nights in his future. Figure I’ll give him tonight on me.”