Rattrap Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  Rattrap

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-976-3

  ©Copyright L.M. Somerton 2016

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh © January 2016

  Edited by Sarah Smeaton

  Pride Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2016 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  The Wyverns

  RATTRAP

  L.M. Somerton

  Book three in The Wyverns series

  Sometimes the only way to spring a trap is to use live bait.

  Teddy Austin has had more than his share of run-ins with local law enforcement. The Wyverns have a reputation to maintain, and Teddy feels it’s his duty to cause havoc whenever possible. Of course, getting arrested means time in the company of Sheriff Adrian Hayder—always a bonus—though Teddy would far prefer to have the sheriff wearing the cuffs.

  When The Knights of War MC arrives in Phoenix, Trap orders The Wyverns to get inside information. In order to infiltrate the gang, Teddy must appear to betray his friends and switch his allegiance. Working undercover, however, he confirms what they have all suspected—The Knights of War are a cover for something much more sinister than a hell-raising bunch of bikers, and they fully intend to turn Phoenix into a battleground.

  With Sheriff Hayder getting far too close to the truth, Teddy is left with a few problems—how to stop a war, keep his balls intact and ensure the man he loves keeps breathing.

  Dedication

  To the joy of the open road

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Levi’s: Levi Strauss & Co.

  Speedo: Pentland Group plc

  Twinkies: Apollo Global Management, LLC and C. Dean Metropoulos

  Star Trek: CBS and Paramount Pictures Corporation

  Klingon (Star Trek): CBS and Paramount Pictures Corporation

  Thunderbird: ITC Entertainment

  Cheetos: Frito-Lay, Inc.

  Sons of Anarchy: Fox Entertainment Group, Inc.

  AA-12: Maxwell Atchisson

  Kel-tec PLR-16: Kel-Tec CNC Industries Inc.

  Bushmaster Carbons: Bushmaster Firearms International, LLC

  Claridge: Claridge Hi-Tec, Inc.

  Hog: Harley-Davidson, Inc.

  Harley: Harley-Davidson, Inc.

  Chapter One

  Teddy folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. A smile played across his lips. His six-feet, six-inch frame barely fit on the narrow bunk, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable, and besides, he was used to it. The county jail was becoming a home from home. Sooner or later, Rogue or Hatchet would be along to bail him out and in the meantime he had some quiet time to let his mind plot all the things he would like to do to Sheriff Adrian Hayder.

  “Mmm, that man sure is a long, tall drink of gorgeous,” Teddy muttered. The sheriff was everything Teddy liked in a man. Not too far off his own height, lean and just a bit rough around the edges. Hayder kept his hair a fraction longer than military cropped. It looked soft, too. Teddy imagined running his fingers through the short strands then using it to tug Hayder’s head back for a kiss.

  “Oh yes…” Teddy shifted his arms and slipped his hand down the front of his Levi’s. He groaned as his cock thickened in appreciation. “Fuck, yes.” He unzipped and allowed his aching dick some room. Easy access was one of the reasons Teddy never wore underwear. He took a firm grip and jacked himself a few times. It would have been a lot better with some lube, but cells did not come equipped with useful supplies. There was a roll of toilet paper to clean up with, though—a small mercy. Teddy attempted to picture Sheriff Hayder on his knees and naked, taking Teddy’s cock into his mouth. Hayder had the prettiest pink lips that would look perfect wrapped around Teddy’s dick. In Teddy’s opinion, they had been designed for just that purpose.

  He stroked himself slowly, letting the pleasure build. He panted and groaned, hamming it up shamelessly, hoping that the sheriff could hear from his small office on the other side of the wall. Teddy moved his hand faster, building heat and friction. His balls drew up tight against his body, then Teddy yelled as heat coursed through him and he came into his hand in a series of powerful spurts. The scent of his arousal filled the small room. There was no way that the sheriff would not know what he’d been up to the next time he opened the cell door. Teddy grinned.

  “Soon. Soon I’ll be coming all over that man’s pretty face. He’ll lick my cream off his lips like it’s the best treat ever, and if he’s really good and asks nice, I might even let him come too.” Teddy hummed a happy tune. It was just a matter of time, and Teddy had patience. He’d spent hours and days on stakeouts, hidden in seedy hotel rooms, cramped vans and damp rooftops where making the wrong move could mean the difference between a successful collar and an ass reaming from his boss. Waiting out one stubborn lawman did not faze him in the least.

  Teddy did a cursory clean-up then resumed his position on the bunk, legs crossed at the ankles, hands behind his head. He could have been lying on a beach, cloud watching, rather than staring at the whitewashed, cobweb-festooned ceiling of an eight by ten feet box. Without a watch or phone Teddy had no means of telling the time. Sheriff Hayder had hauled him out of The Oil Drum around mid-afternoon. After going through the all-too-familiar booking in routine, handing over the contents of his pockets and removing his belt, Teddy could have made his own way to the cells. He reckoned that one day he might get his own nameplate on the door. Hayder always put him in the same one, right at the end of the row, and it felt nice and homey.

  Teddy chuckled as he recalled the expression on the sheriff’s face as he rolled Teddy’s belt to stow it away. It was his favorite. Black leather. An inch wide. The buckle fashioned in the shape of pair of handcuffs. Sheriff Hayder had very pretty eyes. His lashes were so dark it appeared as if he wore eyeliner, highlighting irises the color of the desert sky at the height of summer—intensely blue. Those eyes had widened at the sight of the buckle, though he’d recovered quickly and had tried to hide his reaction. Teddy had caught it, though. He’d been trained to see things, to be observant, and he didn’t miss a thing where Adrian Hayder was concerned.

  Hayder knew that Teddy frequented The Scourge BDSM Club. He’d obviously put two and two together and made five. Teddy had no intention of disabusing him of his kinky notions. Let the sheriff thi
nk that Teddy was into the scene—it might keep him on edge, which was just where Teddy wanted him.

  “Not a ridiculous conclusion to come to,” Teddy mused. Several other members of the Wyverns favored D/s relationships. Their leader, Rogue Hellaby, was a Dom. His boyfriend Orlando, a sub. “I’ve seen more submissive wildcats than that brat,” Teddy said. “Me, I like a man who knows his mind, likes it rough and doesn’t expect roses on Valentine’s Day.” A bit of bondage was fun, and Teddy thought the sheriff would benefit from a sound spanking, but Teddy wasn’t interested in taking care of a sub. He definitely couldn’t be dealing with all that hearts and flowers crap. If he handed Hayder a bunch of roses he’d likely get a fat lip for his trouble.

  “A nice tussle between the sheets, no worrying that he’ll break when I pound his ass. Good times.” Teddy closed his eyes and contemplated a nap, but the viewing window in the cell door scraped open, disturbing his peace. He didn’t bother to lift his eyelids.

  “Missing me already, Adrian?”

  There was a growl from outside in the corridor, then the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door swung open with a squeal.

  “It’s Sheriff Hayder to you, asshole.”

  “Things round here would benefit from a bit of lubrication. I ain’t heard so much squealing since I screwed that bloke that runs the gun range. You need to oil things up a bit.” Teddy turned his head and pinned the sheriff with a predatory stare. “I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

  The object of Teddy’s affection blushed beneath the day’s stubble. Teddy could just make out the pinking of lightly tan skin. He sat up and swung his legs around, then stretched, reaching for the ceiling to ensure that a strip of skin was exposed as his shirt rose. He watched Hayder’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  “Fuck you, Austin.” Hayder scowled.

  “Now that’s not a very professional attitude.” Teddy stood up. “I may have to lodge a complaint. Or you could buy me off with a blow job. You’d look fucking good on your knees.”

  Hayder’s frown lines deepened. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. Teddy licked his lips provocatively.

  “You’re free to go. Yet again, I can’t persuade anyone to press charges against you,” Hayder said with some impatience. He gestured for Teddy to leave the cell.

  “Aw, honey, I was looking forward to spending the night with you.” Teddy strolled into the corridor.

  “I should give you a fucking drugs test. You’re clearly tripping.”

  Teddy whirled around, grabbed Hayder’s wrists then pinned them to the wall at shoulder height. He pushed his weight forward and leaned toward the Sheriff until their lips were scant millimeters apart.

  “I don’t use,” Teddy growled. He could smell Hayder’s fresh, spicy scent. His plump lower lip begged to be nipped. His thick lashes fluttered over glittering eyes.

  “Back. Off.” Hayder didn’t try to break free, but Teddy let him go anyway.

  “I’d throw you back in that cell for assaulting an officer but I don’t want Rogue and Hatchet intimidating my deputies. They’re out front waiting to collect your sorry ass.”

  “You don’t have to make up excuses. You want me out of here because otherwise you’ll succumb to my undeniable charm.” Teddy winked.

  “Fuck you.”

  “You wish. No, it’ll be me with my cock up your ass, Sheriff, and you’ll love every minute, bent over your desk begging for more.” Teddy paused. “Those uniform pants don’t hide much, do they?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Hayder shoved Teddy through the door that led from the holding cells to the main office space. Teddy chuckled. Rogue sat in the sheriff’s chair, booted feet resting on the desk. He held a mug of coffee and a young, female deputy was in the middle of offering him a chocolate-chip muffin. Hatchet leaned against a wall, arms crossed across his broad chest.

  “Get out of my fucking chair, Rogue. This is not your personal refreshment stop.” Sheriff Hayder glared at his deputy, who scurried away.

  “Thanks, Sal,” Rogue shouted after her. “Your baking rocks.” He took his time vacating his seat.

  “Since when have you been on first name terms with my deputy?” Hayder growled.

  Rogue raised a golden eyebrow. “Since we dealt with a little problem her grandma was having with neighborhood gang bangers.”

  “I don’t want to know, do I?” The sheriff retrieved a box of Teddy’s confiscated belongings.

  “Probably not.” Rogue raked his fingers through his dirty-blond hair. “Now—can I have Teddy back or are you charging him?”

  Hatchet snorted but didn’t say anything.

  “Mr. Austin is free to go. No charges.”

  Teddy perched on the edge of a desk. “Yet another case of wrongful arrest, it seems. It’s getting to be a habit, Adrian.”

  “Wallet. Keys. Belt. Ankle sheath and knife. Carrying a concealed weapon is an offense, you know.”

  Teddy strapped the sheath into place. “It’s not a weapon. I need it to peel fruit for my lunch.”

  “Of course you do. Now get the fuck out of here before I shoot all of you. Try to stay out of trouble.”

  “He has to say that, it’s in the manual.” Teddy blew a kiss at the sheriff. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

  “Out!”

  Adrian watched as the three men strolled unhurriedly from the premises. He sank into his chair and groaned.

  “Every time. Why do I let him get to me every fucking time?”

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted into his nostrils.

  “Here you go, boss. Coffee and a muffin.” Deputy Sally Wicks planted a mug next to his flexing fingers.

  “Thanks, Sal. Do I need to know what they got up to?”

  “Let’s just say that a bunch of arrogant little shits got what was coming to them and leave it at that.” She frowned. “I know The Wyverns are a thorn in your side, but they are the lesser of two evils on occasion.”

  Hayder bit into his muffin and moaned. “Oh my God, that’s good. And you wasted one of these on Rogue Hellaby of all people.”

  “He’s easy on the eyes, boss.”

  “He ain’t your type, Sal.”

  “Oh, I know that. Have you met that little hellcat he rides with? Blink at Rogue the wrong way and his boyfriend would probably start sticking pins in my effigy.”

  “The hellcat’s name is Orlando de la Pena. There’s a story there that I’d very much like to get to the bottom of one day.”

  “Well, if there was a Gay Biker Monthly, those two would be on the cover.”

  “They’re more likely to be on the cover of this week’s Most Wanted memo, Sal. Keep that in mind next time you’re drooling over them.”

  “You could leave me my dreams, boss.” Sal scowled then stalked back to her desk on the other side of the room.

  Adrian smirked. “My work here is done. Or it would be if I could follow my own damn advice.” He kicked at his tin wastepaper bin in frustration. There was no good reason on earth that he should be attracted to a leather-clad biker operating on the fringes of the very law that Adrian was supposed to uphold and protect.

  “Fuck it.” He pulled a bunch of files from his desk drawer and shuffled through them. There was one for each known member of The Wyverns motorcycle club.

  “Here we go. Edward Austin, known as Teddy.” He flicked through the scant sheaf of well-thumbed papers. “Twenty-nine. Born in Mobile, Alabama. Multiple distinguishing marks.” Adrian licked his lips. Those tats sure are hot as hell. Must have hurt like a bastard to get them all done. Several previous residences were listed followed by a long list of charges. Next to each was a note saying ‘complaint withdrawn’, ‘charges dropped’, ‘alibi confirmed’. He’d find similar notes in every file relating to The Wyverns. Nothing ever stuck. Teddy had been pulled in for various suspected offenses, including disturbing the peace, exposure in a moving vehicle, assault, affray and speeding.

  “How the hell did we not get that through?
” Adrian muttered. He tapped a password into his computer and brought up the case records. “Faulty equipment. Unbefuckinglievable. What a crock of shit.” The Wyverns had someone pulling for them a hell of a lot higher up the food chain than Adrian. He stared at Teddy’s mug shot. Teddy’s entire expression projected mischief and an utter disregard for authority.

  “Arrogant son of a bitch. Why does he have to be so fucking gorgeous?” Adrian dumped the entire set of files back in the drawer and slammed it shut. He glanced around the office. There was nobody in earshot. He rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve some of the tension that any interaction with Teddy inevitably brought. He gave the mountain of papers stacked in his in-box a baleful glance. At least he had enough going on that he could block Teddy Austin from his thoughts for a while.

  After plowing through some of the routine paperwork that multiplied like bindweed he pulled up the list of serious cases in his jurisdiction. Most were allocated to various deputies but Adrian checked in regularly to see what progress had been made. He sighed at the list of investigations that never got any shorter. Many were related to the county’s proximity to the Mexican border. Gun-running, drug smuggling and people trafficking were rife. The gangs involved brought rape, murder and larceny with them. It was a losing battle, but Adrian believed that every crime solved helped just a little, even if the tide was against him.

  “Now this is why I hate biker gangs.” He scrolled through a couple of pages of tightly written text. “Shit on a stick.” The cheap biro in his hand snapped in half. “Sal!”

  “What?” she yelled right back at him from the other side of the office.

  “What have you heard about…? Fuck it, wait there, I’m coming over.” Adrian shoved his chair back and stomped across twenty feet of worn gray carpet. He paced back and forth in front of Sal’s immaculate desk.