REIGN: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (18 page)

His hands came to her breasts once more, kneading them, as his teeth
grazed her earlobe, his hot breath entering her there, seeming to sweep away
any thoughts in her brain that weren’t entirely devoted to her lust. She moaned
and pressed her ass against him, feeling his hardness, wanting it more and more
with each passing second.

“Reign…” she murmured, reaching behind her to clutch his body closer,
spreading her legs as best she could while standing on her toes. He entered her
quickly, slipping into her wetness with a groan, her pussy welcoming him as
though it had waited an entire lifetime. She whimpered as he held his cock deep
inside her for a long, lurid moment, his hands pressing into her, their bodies
glued together in the cool water that gently rippled around them.

Reign let one hand gently fall across her stomach, her flesh jumping
as his fingertips trailed downwards. He found her pussy and parted the lips,
her clit straining forward, begging for his touch. He drew one finger across
it, slowly, and pumped into her.

“Oh, fuck,” Gabriella moaned, her head lolling backwards against his
chest as her body sang with pleasure. His tongue snaked around her ear as his finger
circled her clit, his hips now thrusting against her ass, his hard cock
massaging her pussy as it tensed and clenched around his shaft.

“Yeah, baby,” Reign moaned into her ear, his cock throbbing as her
cunt enveloped it, her wetness tickling every nerve, her pussy sucking him back
in greedily with each thrust. He rolled her hard clit under his fingers,
feeling the blood rush to her sex, her panting a metronome keeping the pace.

He wanted to feel her come on him, wanted his dick to swim in her juices,
wanted to watch her buck and writhe in his arms. He sped up his attentions to
her clit, pressing harder against the tender button, even as he thrust harder
and deeper into her.

She struggled to stand in the deep water, and he walked her forward
until she stood on her feet, her chest now exposed above the water, heaving and
glistening. She was thrusting against him now, her body hungry for him, her
pussy almost vibrating around his cock as he plunged into her, faster and
harder with each stroke.

“Come for me, Gabriella,” he growled into her ear, and she felt the
reverberations all the way down to her clenching toes. His fingers on her clit
sped up, and she felt jagged darts of pleasure shredding her mind into pieces,
her fingernails digging into his skin, her muscles stretching to the point of
snapping as his cock stroked her pussy over and over, digging into her most
sensitive being, driving a bubble of pressure into her stomach that built and
built with each second.

She panted, eyes closed tight, mouth open, until she felt him slam
into her hard enough to rock her body forward, and like a key turning in a lock
she came, his fingers pinching her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through
her body as her muscles rippled and gave in blissful release.

Reign felt her pussy clench violently around his cock, felt the flow
of warm juices spilling forth from her, bathing his cock as he plunged into her
again, holding her tight to him, feeling the head of his cock being massaged by
her vibrating cunt. With a groan he felt his balls churn and the deep
satisfaction of his cum spilling into her, filling her womb with sticky, warm
seed.

His body shuddered against her as he came for what felt like forever,
her pussy milking the cum from his cock, each spurt of his seed hitting her
rippling walls, mixing with her juices, filling her. The sound of her moaning
through her climax only made it better for him, only made each twitching
release seem to last and last.

His teeth bit down on the soft flesh of her shoulder, one hand
clutching her breast, pulling her close to him, while the other rubbed gently
at her clit. It was too soon when he felt the last of his cum burst from his
shaft, and the gradual softening of his cock began.

He stayed inside her as long as he could, eyes closed, the feel of her
pussy still gently contracting a warm glow of pleasure. Finally, he slid from
her, the cold water shocking in comparison to her heat. He didn’t pull away
until she shook and her knees seemed to buckle. Then, he released her, only to
feel her clutch him against her, Gabriella’s hands desperate and hungry on his
back. Sweaty, overheated, they stood in the water, which could never have been
cold enough to put out the flames between them.

~
22
~

Silas’ plan was convoluted, but to him it seemed easy as pie. He
assumed – from snippets of overheard conversation – that little Gabriella was
planning on ditching Ditcher’s Valley in short order. He’d already convinced
dear Jeremy to wait until the right moment to strike – a hard task, to be sure,
but one he’d handled with admiral tact.

It was a good plan. Not a perfect plan, but then again there was no
such thing as a perfect plan. Silas had been down enough roads to learn that.
Like that rap song said, you can plan a pretty picnic but you can’t predict the
weather.

But all Silas had to do was be patient, be alert, be cautious, and be
smart. And he already was all those things. Even if he couldn’t pull it all
off, chances of his own demise being a part of the catastrophe that would ensue
were slim. His biggest asset, greatest skill, was the ability to get his ass to
safety before it ever felt heat from the flames.

He might leave a lot of bodies in his wake, and he might end up no
richer than he’d started out, but he’d live to work another day. And his was
not the sort of industry where you could write a Yelp review. His clients got
the references he wanted them to get. As far as anyone could ever know, he’d
never even been in Utah.

A good plan, indeed,
Silas thought as he pulled his truck off the
highway. They were halfway to Ditcher’s Valley. He wanted a milkshake and a
hamburger.

“Where are you going?” His passenger demanded.

“Hungry,” Silas said gruffly, not in the mood for conversation.

“I’m not paying you to stuff your gob,” Jeremy said, matching his
tone. Silas shot him a look.

“We’re in no rush, copper. We have to wait until your little lady
leaves on her own. I told you that when we made the deal,” he said.

“Well, sure, but what if she leaves before…”

“I’m hungry, and you’re hungry, too. And you better not be so fucking
impatient once we get there, son. If you try and sneak off and find her
yourself, you’re only
gonna
find yourself in a world
and a half of hurt. I can promise you that, son,” Silas said.

“I can fucking wait. I’m the one paying
you,
don’t forget that. And I’m a goddam cop. One wrong move, I
make some calls, you’re toast. Don’t underestimate me, prick,” Jeremy shot
back.

Silas didn’t say anything, just pulled into the first drive-thru fast
food joint he saw at the end of the highway’s exit ramp. Evidently, Jeremy had
moved past fuming and was thinking a little clearer. That wasn’t very good for
Silas, but it wasn’t terrible, either. He just wished Jeremy would stay in his
little rage bubble.

He also hoped the girl would leave town tomorrow; the longer they had
to wait, the more impatient his client would become. In his plan, the biggest
unknown was this volatile man beside him. One wrong step on Jeremy’s part and
Silas would have the unfortunate need to kill the guy.

He didn’t mind killing, he just hated how messy it was. He didn’t need
Jeremy to get Gabriella; he could catch her and beat her up himself. It might
even be better for Silas if Jeremy wasn’t there to whoosh Gabriella back to Colorado;
live bait was always best. But Jeremy still owed him half his fee, and he
wanted that money. And he didn’t want to have to wash blood out of any of his
stuff. It was so hard to get out.

~
23
~

I lay in the backseat of my new car and sighed, one hand resting
happily on my stomach, my head on Reign’s still-naked lap, my hair running all
over his thighs.

It was still hot.

And what we’d been indulging in only made it hotter.

God, I couldn’t stand to do anything but close my eyes and hum along
to the radio. I couldn’t think about anything except the blue sky and my
tingling body. I didn’t want to think about the past, and I was even less
excited to think about the future.

Somehow, all my desire to keep heading south had slipped away. I mean,
I still knew I had to, but that pulsing drive, that need to get away, my
fantasies about life across the border, were gone. Perhaps for good. I hoped
not, because if that compulsion to get the hell away from Colorado disappeared,
I might never leave.

I might, foolishly, believe that Reign and his friends really could
keep me safe. I might believe any promises he could make, I might believe
anything my brain wanted to tell me in order to hold onto this happiness – the
first of its kind I’d ever found in my whole long, sorry life.

Already, as I lay there with my eyes closed, I found myself letting
silly nonsense fantasies dance into my head. About having little biker kids,
about laying in bed with Reign on lazy Sunday mornings, about setting up a life
for myself out here amongst the sage and sand. Silly, silly fantasies that
tugged and almost clawed at my brain, demanding attention when I knew that they
were impossible.

Reign was running his hands through my hair, tickling my scalp in the
most delicious way imaginable. I felt drunk with oxytocin, giddy and giggly.
Reaching up to stroke his broad chest, I let my mouth speak without my mind’s
constant commentary.

“Where are you from?”

There was a pause; Reign’s hands stilled in my hair. But it was only
for a moment.

“North Carolina,” he said, and his voice hinted at a past he didn’t
want to discuss, but which he’d tell me about if I wanted to hear it.

And, God help me, I did. I wanted to know everything about this
stranger who’d opened me up, taken my heart in his hands and squeezed it until
it beat again, who’d brought me from the sad state I was in when I arrived in
Ditcher’s Valley to this blissful, sun-soaked moment.

“That’s a long way,” I murmured dreamily.

“Sure is.”

“Why’d you come here,” I asked when it became apparent he wasn’t going
to answer me. His body stiffened under my back. I realized that I was pressing
him; perhaps more than he was comfortable being pressed. Likely, he wanted me
to shut up and stop prying and just accept the moment for what it was.

But I was a student of philosophy, even after all these years, and
questions came out of me before I thought twice about asking them. It hadn’t
been that way with Jeremy; with Jeremy, usually, the less I knew the better.
But now I wasn’t that woman anymore. I was someone new – or, rather, someone
old.

“I had to get out of my house,” was his response, vague as could be. I
could see the signs to stop talking clear as daylight. But what did I do? Did I
respect his privacy and move on to other, lighter subjects? Of course not.

“Why’s that?”

Another long pause.

“My father killed my sister,” he finally said, and like a bullet going
through me I felt regret and shame and shock and awe, all at once.
Good job, Gabriella, you wanted answers? You
got them. Now you know. Happy?

I wasn’t happy. The way he said it…like he was ripping out a piece of
himself and handing it to me because I’d told him to. He could have not
answered. He could have said he didn’t want to talk about it. But he’d said it,
boldly, baldly, putting it out there like he had nothing to lose. Because I’d
asked him. And I got the feeling he didn’t want to lie to me, or keep things
from me. Well, that had become clear enough as we sat there, both rigid now,
suddenly uncomfortable in the heat.

I leaned forward, sitting upright, our bodies making a
smucking
sound as they separated. Turning my head towards
him, I saw his eyes fixed on me but full of an awful sadness. Full of an awful
memory. A great and terrible weight had fallen on the day: everything, from the
sky to the sands, seemed pregnant with desolation.

“That’s what happened,” he said finally, with a short nod of his head,
as though I’d called him a liar.

“That’s horrible,” I whispered. “How old were you?”

“I was seventeen. She was twelve. He was a bastard,” Reign said,
looking away from me with a sharp turn of his neck. He gazed off into the
distance. “And I just left. Hopped on my bike and rode away. I left my other
sisters and my mother there with him. I haven’t spoken to them since.”

The silence was as thick as the heat around us.

“I didn’t go to the funeral,” he said.

“Well did they…did they get him? Your father? Did they, you know,
catch him?”

Reign shook his head.

“He lied. My mother, she…she was too afraid to even tell the truth.
They said she fell, that they just found her like that at the foot of the
stairs. It was a small town. Everyone knew, but no one wanted to talk. I should
have. But instead I ran away. Like…”

Another long pause as his brow furrowed, as though he were looking for
the right word, even though I could see that the word he was looking for was
well within his grasp. It was a word he knew well.

“Like a coward.”

I wanted to shake him and tell him he was wrong, that he wasn’t a
coward, just a kid, a scared kid, and that he couldn’t blame himself. It was
his father who was to blame, not Reign. Not Reign and not his mother. But
something told me other people had said the same to him, with not much result.
Still, I had to try.

“I don’t think so,” I said meekly.

“I know. No one does.”

“What was her name?” I asked after another minute of silence had
dripped by. Time had slowed to a crawl. I was thinking of Jeremy, and my own
family, and Reign as a teenager…

“Miranda,” he answered quickly. Saying her name hurt him, you could
see it in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Reign,” I finally whispered, meaning it with all my heart.
It killed me to see him looking so haunted. I reached up, touched the mark over
my eye, which had faded some but still felt tender to the touch.
So that’s why he was so eager to help…

“Just come here,” he said, and reaching out grabbed my shoulders,
pulling me back against him. One arm snaked across my chest and down my
stomach, holding me by the waist. His face buried into my wild black hair. I
felt his heartbeat against my spine.

We lay like that for a long time. Billy Joel wondered if his
girlfriend was right, if he was crazy. Led Zeppelin offered to give someone a
whole
lotta
love. Paul Simon talked about all the
ways you could leave your lover, and Cream basked in the sunshine of someone’s
love. And then another tune started. A familiar one. Not familiar in the way
all the other songs had been, because everyone knows them and has heard them a
million times.

Familiar to me in a way that could only be described as intimate.

I didn’t know why, but it struck fear so deep into my heart that I
could actually feel the cold sweat as it pushed its way out of my pores. My
airways seemed to constrict; I was being strangled! But there were no hands
around my neck…I desperately breathed in through my nose, could barely take in
enough air to speak. My nails dug into Reign’s thigh as my body stiffened and
went rigid, flashes of nightmarish violence bursting in my skull.

From somewhere that seemed very far away, Reign called my name, shook
my shoulders, asked what was wrong, what was wrong. I couldn’t respond. My
tongue had swollen, filling my entire mouth.

Pick up your money,
pack up your tent,
you
ain’t
goin
’ nowhere…