Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (10 page)

Fuck.
More fun? What kind of goddamned fun was she talking about?

“Shit, I've been looking all over for you, brother.”  I was ready to open up on her, tell her the prospects didn't know shit about having a good time, when a voice boomed behind us.

Skin waited for me to turn around, wearing the same smug ass smile he always had. “What do you want?”

“Two things. Meg says you're doing great, Cora. The shit that happened the other night was nothing but a speed bump, and now we're riding smooth as a sheep's tongue.”

“Sheep's tongue,” I snorted. “Yeah, and you'd fucking know.”

“Yeah, yeah, motherfucker,” He shook me off without even losing his smile. “Second, Prez told me to come by to deliver the news in person. He says you've got a good thing going with this girl, and you've really helped diffuse what could've been a damned bad stick of dynamite.”

Cora pursed her lips. We both wanted a piece of the jackal in front of us, acting like he was judge and jury.

I clenched my jaw.
Just get to the fucking point, asshole,
I growled inwardly.

“Shitty part is, he's hearing rumblings from Atlanta. Says the Torches have found out all about her old man, and their informants have already been sniffing around his old place. Crawl went by there earlier and said it was fucking ransacked. Somebody went through the police tape and turned it upside down, busted a few windows, looking for shit.”

I looked at Cora. Her eyes were on the floor; sad, hurt, and angry as all hell.

Goddamn, I wanted to hold her. Not because my cock was telling me to for once.

Bad enough those assholes had driven her old man to blow his brains out. Worse that they'd sent somebody to turn her old home upside down, put holes through the walls and windows like a fucking dive.

“Prez is talking to Red Beard tomorrow,” Skin continued. “He's mad as shit. Wants to know why our club isn't helping theirs track down the shit they say they're owed – including Jimmy's pretty little daughter.”

She couldn't take it. Cora broke, covered her face, and walked away.

“She was standing right next to us, you fuck.” My fists tensed hard at my sides. Didn't give a shit how dead they were from the workout a couple hours ago. Damn if they wouldn't have loved to bounce off Skinny boy's face just then.

“I know,” he whispered. “Had to get her away because it's better she hears the rest of it coming from you, rather than me.”

“What? Why's that? Brother, why you gotta be so fucking cryptic all the damned time?”

He smiled. “Cora needs one of our boys posted to her full time as long as the Torches are searching high and low. Prez's orders. Can't have her slipping outta sight, into a trap.”

Oh, fuck. Fuck me with a screwdriver.

Asshole didn't even say it, but I read it loud and clear, felt it hit me right between my damned eyes. “Me.”

“You got it.” Skin nodded, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “Shit, don't look so fucking glum, brother. It's not like he's asking you to do anything more than up the time you're already spending with her, hauling her ass around.”

“You're telling me this is a twenty-four hour op? When the fuck am I supposed to make sure the club's secure? I'm still the Enforcer. If we've got a snake closing in around us, then we've gotta have the guns and guys ready to make sure we don't get bit.”

“We'll up security here at the Heel, too. You can leave her alone when she's working. But Prez says on the road, in the bed, outside the fucking bathroom – you stay on her.” He looked at me, the trademark scar on his cheek catching the light. “Good thing the club pitched in to get her that nice place. It'll be a whole lot bigger for the two of you than your room at the clubhouse would've been.”

“Fuck this. I'll talk to Dust myself,” I growled, reaching for my burner phone.

“Go ahead. He'll tell you the same shit I just did. Then he'll wonder why the fuck you're wasting his time asking twice.” Skin reached for my shoulder, slapped a brotherly hand on it, and risked me breaking his goddamned wrist. “Easy, brother. Just treat her right. All this'll blow over before you know it, and you'll be right back to fucking nameless whores who call you 'Fireball.'”

Enough bullshit.

I threw his hand off me and walked toward the exit, stuffing my phone back into my pocket. My shit-eating arrogant brother was right. Didn't doubt for a second what he passed along from Dust was truth.

I had to find Cora. She wasn't taking this shit any better than me – especially after what I'd started laying on her before Skinny boy showed up.

My hand slammed into the dented metal fire escape leading outside. Cold mountain air hit me in the face. I looked left, right, and finally found her by the dumpster, sitting on a cracked wooden post.

“You shouldn't be out here alone,” I growled, coming to a stop behind her.

“And you should learn to mind your own business, Firefly.” She slowly looked at me with her lips all twisted.

“Firefly,” she snorted, shaking her head. “What the hell kind of name is that for a biker, anyway?”

She squealed when I reached down, swept her up, and pressed her into the wall. “Got it early on in this club, the night I took the prospect patch. We had twenty fucking Deads in a ten foot grave, except all the fucks were still breathing. They'd come to fuck us into line, assuming they didn't kill every one of us first. Thought they were smart motherfuckers for taking the Prez's ma, Laynie, holding her for ransom, having their way with her before we got her back. None of 'em had any brains left after I poured gasoline all over their evil asses and threw the match. All the brothers thought I enjoyed the screams almost as much as the Prez. My face glowed like the devil, listening to those assholes screaming, heading straight for hell...”

“You're all monsters,” she whispered, the smart ass look on her face completely obliterated.

“Yeah, well, you're about to be seeing a lot more of this monster.” I thumped my chest, waiting 'til her big blue eyes swirled with curiosity. “Much as I wanted to turn you over to the prospects, Prez says that ain't an option. You heard what Skin said – you've got bigger devils than us looking for you. Long as they're on your ass, I stay closer.”

Her eyes rolled in her head like marbles as the full horror sunk in. Then they locked onto me, and her lips opened slowly.

“Oh. Awesome. If only I'd have known working my butt off here would just get me a constant babysitter. I'd have picked a few more fights.”

“Watch it, woman,” I snarled, making sure she could feel the heat of my words against her ear. “You're treading on seriously fucked up ground. You think I like this?”

I gripped her shoulders tighter, digging my fingers in 'til she shook her head. My dick jerked in my pants, pure instinct igniting, every inch of me up against her. So close.

Close enough to inhale her scent.

Close enough to feel her bristle.

Close enough to see every fractured part of those sweet blue eyes I wanted to go nova when I buried myself in her to the hilt.

Too. Fucking. Close.

“I'm just following orders here, same as you, darlin',” I said, easing up on her a little. “We've both gotta get through this, one day at a time. Breathing fire all over me won't do you any favors, and it sure as fuck won't make this easier. Let's call a damned truce and deal with it.”

She looked at me, sharp and serious. For a second, I thought I'd actually talked some sense into the head attached to that perfect gold hair I wanted in my fist.

Then she rolled her eyes, and I heard her tongue cluck against the roof of her mouth. “Whatever you say, Fireball.”

“Fuck.”

Fuck!
Every dark, animal instinct I'd been pinning down whenever I was with her tore through my bones and came ripping outta me.

I didn't stop to think. Just spun her around, ripped down her jeans, and had her soft panties in my hand a split second later. Fucking fabric nearly ripped as I jerked it down her thighs, snapping around her knees, lining her up just perfect for my aching palm.

“Don't you get it, darlin'? I'm trying to save your fucking life, and you're
still
calling me the wrong goddamned name after I warned you a thousand times!”

My hand struck her firm, sweet ass. Once, twice, three blistering times before she pointed her head at the sky and whimpered.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, mama.

What the fuck you doing? Hell, what's SHE doing?

My brain was too screwed up to figure out what was happening with any reason. That shit had gone straight out the window. I just had her pressed against the wall, half naked, squirming under my hand as I delivered five hard strikes against her skin, so rough each time her ass bounced.

On the fourth and fifth whacks, her knees bent forward. She bit her lip and made a muffled noise I'd heard on women a hundred times before – that little sound they made before they blew.

Every muscle must've tensed up in her body. The girl was about to come, and there was no fuckin' stopping it.

Cora came. Little minx convulsed, losing it on the spot, leaning against me and sucking in a rush of air. It burst out a second later in a sexy whine that nearly blew my dick up in a single heartbeat.

So wrong. So wild. So fucking
hot.

My cock drove me fucking mad, filling up with lightning. I slammed her into the wall and held her as she came for me, one hand grabbing her ass, confirming I'd cracked her body's code in one vicious, fucked up moment...

Arching her back, she moaned louder, her little ass grinding against the bulge about to go nuclear in my pants. By some miracle, I held it in.

Resisting the urge to whip it out right there and force my way inside her hot, wet, wanting cunt was an even bigger miracle. Fuckin' water to wine level.

I stroked her hair as she came down from it, letting my hold on her soften. My lips pressed against her red hot ear, whispering the only thing I could think to say.

“Shit. Goddamn. Cora, fuck, I'm sorry.”

Apologizing for finally doing what I'd wanted sounded hollow as all hell. Too bad the little bitch on my shoulder I called a conscience forced it outta me.

Deep down, my cock cried for more. He wasn't the least bit sorry for the psycho shit that just happened out here. He just wanted me to pull her legs apart, fuck her 'til this torture blazing through every part of me was done.

My hands clasped her pants, her panties, feeling the wet spot that must've been brewing in the middle since before I'd stepped outside.
Fuck.

She wanted me. Bad. And I'd just put the Berlin-fucking-wall between us.

I made a decision. Slowly, I pulled them up over her cool skin, gritting my teeth.

“Babe, are you –“

“Yeah.” She cut me off before I could say okay. “Just...take me home. I don't want to talk about any of this.”

Whatever. I knew I'd fucked up when she wouldn't even look at me on our way through the parking lot. She wedged her helmet tight to her head when I handed it to her, like she wanted to blot out the whole damned world.

No, probably just me. Fuck if I didn't deserve it, as much as she'd deserved my hand against her ass.

I rode through Knoxville's dark streets, conflicted the whole fucking trip to her building. Her grip on me was surprisingly tight for what just went down. She must've been fighting every urge in her to recoil, to run, to get the fuck away from me and this dirty underworld before it chewed her all the way up.

Cora's building came into sight. Turning my bike to the curb, I slowed down and killed my engine, standing up before she could pluck off her helmet and go.

“Wait.” I stood up straight, and leaned down, my ice blue eyes meeting hers. “My job's to protect you. I can't have you holding any grudges, or thinking I'm gonna go off like a loose fuckin' cannon every time we're together. Whatever happened back there, I can't take it back. So, I'm giving you a chance to suck some of the poison outta your system.”

She looked at me like I didn't understand. Had to spell it out for her.

“Babe, punch me in the damned face, as hard as you can, if you feel like it'll help.”

Cora blinked. “You want me to hit you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Therapy or some shit. Hitting things always makes me feel better, especially if it's the fuckers I'm pissed at.”

With a sigh, she ripped her helmet off, and then shoved it against my chest. “You really don't have a clue, do you? I need to go. You do your job, Firefly, and I'll do mine. That's all we need to worry about to get through this. There's no point in dwelling on anything else, just like you said.”

Before I could stop her, she was gone, fumbling with her keys and slipping into the building. I stood there in the cool Knoxville night. Tried to see the mountains looming over the city, but the thick gray clouds overhead painted them dark, invisible.

“Fuck,” I grunted, tucking my helmet back on my head and climbing on my bike.

I tore the hell outta there without a second glance.

I'd fucked up bad tonight, and I knew it.

All I'd wanted to do was march in with my goodbyes, hand her off to somebody else, and scrape her out of my goddamned life forever.

Prez's plans fucked that all away. My own raging lust did the rest.

Cora didn't realize it yet – or maybe she did, and just didn't show it. One way or another, we were both completely, irreparably fucked.

I couldn't keep this shit purely professional. Neither could she. I'd never had a chick come so fast without even stroking between her legs, and she went off like a goddamned landmine.

My cock wouldn't forget that shit. Neither would my mind, my body, my soul. No matter how much I'd hurt her or twisted her up tonight, neither would Cora.

Didn't need the cold mountain wind rifling through my hair to know we were on a collision course. Everything conspired to smash us together 'til we kissed, fucked, and suffered the consequences.

I took a long detour before I found my way back at the clubhouse that night. Spent at least a couple hours roaring through the dark, twisted mountain roads, screaming into the night. Probably damaged my fuckin' vocal cords cursing myself, the club, and God for what was steaming up ahead like a raging train.