Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline) (23 page)

A hissed intake of breath caught his attention, and he forced his eyelids open past the painkiller’s haze. It was bright in the room and airy, but he itched and longed for a shower. From the corner of his vision, he could see Addison sitting on the edge of the bedside chair, her expression pinched.

“Oh!” She popped up onto her feet. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Should I go?”

Addison? He felt like shit. What was she doing here? Not that he was about to complain. He’d driven by her place a couple of times in the days before the job like some sort of pathetic stalker.

Maybe she’d finally decided her law-abiding life was the better path. She’d have been right, if that was the case.

Even so, he wanted to jump out of bed and block her path to the door, but multiple attempts to get out of bed in his weakened state had taught him to be more cautious.

“Wait,” he called, hating how frail he sounded. He groaned inwardly. A display of weakness was hardly going to appeal to a woman like Addison. Dr. Lewis had told him he’d lost a lot of blood, but he hated feeling like this, especially in front of her.

She paused at the door and turned back, concern in her gaze. As soon as he tried to rise she was back at his side.

“Lie down!” She put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him carefully back. His arm hurt like a bitch even through the drugs. The graze on his ribs was nothing compared to his arm.

“Sure, you disappear on me for a week then come back all bossy. I think you’re forgetting that’s supposed to be me, not you.”

She didn’t respond with the attitude he’d expected her to. Her lips were pressed in a solemn line, her spark gone.

“No sassy comeback?” he questioned.

“I don’t think this is funny.”

He felt like he was being scolded by a worried parent.

She gazed down at him, her expression intent. “You scared me.”

Scared? So she still cared about him? Her eyes welled with tears that filled him with hope.

But she needed to steer clear of this life. What if she’d been the one shot instead of him? The thought made him nauseous.

For a moment they just stared at each other in silence, but the thoughts in his head were conflicted and deafening. He wanted to tell her to leave but he also wanted her to refuse. Selfish idiot. She had to go while she still could. Before she died or ended up in prison.

“This isn’t the life I want for you, Addison,” he said finally. “Maybe this is the first time we’ve gotten shot at in the past ten years, but it doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. If it was you? If you got hurt, or worse? What the hell would I do?”

“You don’t think I have those same thoughts about you?” she bit back angrily. Some of her spark was returning. “Our work comes with risks, but so does crossing the street. You’re the one who got shot. Maybe
I
should be telling
you
to stop stealing cars!”

He glared at her, but she glared back. Hellion. Just the way he liked her—aside from crushed beneath him and begging to come.

“But I’m not telling you to do that because it wouldn’t be right. Stealing cars is part of who you are. It’s who I am, too, and I’ll do it with or without you.” Her voice got louder with each word. “You don’t get to make my life decisions, and you especially don’t get to choose who I love!”

Love?

Her eyes suddenly went round and her cheeks reddened. Clearly, she hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

As for him, he was ridiculously in love with this girl, and for her sake he couldn’t fight to keep her. Of course he’d realized he was in love with her after he’d already decided they should stay apart. But when the bullet hit, and he’d thought he’d crash or bleed out, the only regrets he had about dying young were that Atlas and Luke would suffer for it, and that he’d never get to say good-bye to Addison. They hadn’t been together that long, but what was time compared to how he felt about her?

“You love me?” he asked her, feeling stupid, but needing to hear it again. It was better than any of the painkillers the good doctor had been feeding him.

She swallowed hard and nodded then stared at the ground, looking like she was trying to regain her composure. “When I found out you were hurt I was so scared. Then they told me you were okay, and I planned this big speech.” Tears spilled over and she brought her gaze to his. “Of course, my speech was much more eloquent and I certainly hadn’t meant to yell it at you.” She chuckled nervously.

He caught the edge of her T-shirt and tugged her closer.

“You’re hurt!” she protested, trying to squirm away, but he was determined not to let her go.

“Yes, and you’re going to make it worse if you fight me.”

With a sigh, she gave in and settled carefully next to him on the bed.

“Is this okay?” she asked, holding her head up awkwardly. “Am I hurting you?”

“Shhh.” He pushed her head onto his chest. “You’re perfect.” Emotions overwhelmed him, and he stroked her hair, trying to get himself under control.

But the truth was, she made him feel the opposite of in control. Wild and passionate and half-insane. And she didn’t even know it. Or maybe she did.

When she finally relaxed against him, he said, “You know I love you, too, don’t you?”

She sniffled once. “You do?” Her voice sounded so small and unsure.

“Yes.” He kissed her hair several times, enjoying the smell and the memories it brought him.

He paused, knowing he shouldn’t even ask, but her rejection of him still stung like a bitch. “I know you’re pissed at me, but will you just tell me what I did to make you bolt? I know I’m pushy in bed, but I thought . . . Did I push you too hard?”

Guilt twisted a sick knife in his belly. He’d been going over their last night together again and again—had been for days—and he didn’t recall any point where she’d seemed truly upset. Had he missed something?

“It wasn’t your fault, and I’m so, so sorry about that. I just . . . freaked out. I got a letter from the school saying I was failing, and I needed to decide what my priorities were. You’re too strong of a lure, so I had to avoid you until I knew what I really wanted.” She laughed shakily. “I’d follow you into hell, but I wanted to make sure hell was a good career choice.”

She’d follow him into hell? He knew the feeling.

“When your life flashes before your eyes, some things come into sharp focus,” he told her, rubbing his hand down her arm. “I thought I was going to die, and all I could think about was how the guys would feel like shit, and how I’d never see you again. Those were my two regrets.”

“When Luke texted me, I drove over here like a maniac,” she said tightly. “If you’d died on me without giving me the chance to tell you how I felt about you . . .”

“What?” He smiled. “You would have killed me?” It would be nice if there was some way to figure out whether this was real or just a hallucination from the drugs. If it was the drugs, he hoped they never wore off.

“Yup.”

He laughed then winced at the fresh pain.

“But I’m serious, Fox,” she said, her tone stern. “Either you accept me as I am, or you don’t. I don’t expect you to change who you are for me, so don’t expect me to change for you. You can’t wrap me in Bubble Wrap and lock me away. That’s not the kind of life I want and definitely not my kink.”

Could he live with that—with her being at risk? It felt like they’d rehashed this argument a million times already, and he had to piss or get off the pot. He liked to consider himself a modern man, but knowing it wasn’t fair to expect her to give up what she wanted to suit him didn’t make him any more comfortable with her being in danger. He’d tried to talk her out of this life so many times, but if she was going to be stealing anyway, didn’t it make sense to keep her close so he could try to be there for her if there was trouble? She was probably in more danger on her own, without backup, than she would be with them.

“What are you going to do about school?” he pressed, in a last ditch effort to make her see reason.

She sighed. “I’m putting it on hold for a year. I need to get my life in order before I go back. I think I’m going to quit my part-time job, too, although I’m pretty sure I got my ass fired when I ran out of the store midshift to get over here after you got shot. I haven’t shown up for two of my shifts since then either.”

His mind flipped through several other reasons she shouldn’t follow him down this path but he was getting tired again. And she felt too cozy here on his chest, he didn’t want to start a fight.

“There’s one more thing . . .”

“What?” he asked as mildly as he could, even though his adrenaline was buzzing to the surface. His mind immediately and inexplicably went to his Norwegian tattoo artist buddies. Maybe he was too tired to be jealous right now, but he could feel it trying to make an appearance. If she’d done something crazy like let them have her, he’d probably forgive her anyway. They hadn’t formally broken up, but they’d both known they weren’t together either.

“It’s just that . . .” She winced. “There’s no job to finish.”

He frowned. “What do you mean? Did we lose the contract? They didn’t give us a couple of days because of Marcel?”

“It’s finished. While Dr. Lewis was working on you, we went out and finished the job.” She looked up at him, her expression tentative. Then she smiled apologetically. “But hey, that means you have all the time you need to relax and heal.”

He wanted to be pissed, but he was so damned relieved that her confession wasn’t about Loke, Rune, and Geir that he couldn’t even be mad. The job was done, she was safe. Maybe he’d be talking to the guys later about putting her in harm’s way like that, but if he was going to let her work with them, their good name was her good name too. That they’d finished the job even though he’d been shot was only going to improve their reputation.

“Okay.” He sighed and leaned his head back against the pillows. “But until I feel you’re up to speed on the skill set the rest of us have, you’re going to be answering to me.”

“What? That’s it?” She frowned. “You’re not mad? No threats of locking me in your dungeon?”

“No. I’d imagined something so much worse that the truth was a relief.” He chuckled. “But we’ll be talking about the dungeon part as soon as I’m stronger.” He winked at her.

“What could be worse than me replacing you on the job?” she asked incredulously.

“Honestly? Maybe it’s just because I’m still out of it, but I thought you were going to tell me you went to get another tattoo.” He let the implication hang in the air, but she didn’t catch on to what he meant right away.

Her brow furrowed, then her eyes widened. “You didn’t really think I’d do three guys at once? Seriously, Fox? Not even if it was three of you.”

“No?”

She scooted up and kissed him carefully, like he might fall apart from the pressure of her lips. Maybe he would.

When she pulled back, she smirked. “You let me fuck you with a strap-on and I’ll consider a three way with you and your clones.”

“Hmm. I’ll consider that very carefully.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Is it bad that I don’t want my clones touching you even if I’m there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

For a few minutes they lay on his bed in contented silence, their hands interlaced. He could feel himself drifting off again. “You don’t even want to know if I slept with someone else after you left me?”

“No. I know you didn’t.”

“So cocky, my girl.” He smiled. They suited each other so damn well. Knowing she loved him back, and relieved he was giving up the stupid idea of splitting up made him feel like it was safe to sleep for another week.

His eyelids wouldn’t open wider than slits, but he could focus enough to rub his thumb over her bottom lip. She nipped it, and even in his condition, it sent a flash of heat through him. Today would be pretty damn close to perfect if only he had the energy to roll her beneath him and reclaim her. Exhaustion was making it hard to breathe, and his eyes were shutting.

“Sleep,” she coaxed.

“Stay.”

“Okay, Fox.” Her lips brushed his forehead. “When you wake up I’ll be waiting.”

Sleep overtook him, but when it did he was smiling like an idiot.

Miles of desert road disappeared under their tires as scenery sped past either side of them. With their high beams the only source of light so far away from the city, it felt like traveling through space. Maybe another girl would have liked loud music on this kind of drive, but for Addison, the roar of the motor was more exhilarating than any guitar solo. With the Spyder’s top down, and Fox driving like they were trying to qualify for Nascar, there was no chatting.

Where was he taking her? It seemed like the long, straight stretch had gone on for eternity by the time he pulled off in the middle of nowhere. They followed a smaller, dirt road that curved behind a low rise. When he parked alongside the road, he turned off the ignition but left the lights blazing. Open desert yawned before them. Behind, the hill concealed them from the main road.

Fox stalked around to her side of the car and yanked the door open. He looked . . . evil. The dark heat in his gaze, paired with a single-minded intensity and the powerful way he moved made her quiver in her seat.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, smirking up at him. “Some sort of romantic midnight picnic? You should have told me. I would have sent you some Pinterest links.”

“So we could eat watercress sandwiches from mason jars?” He arched a brow. “Get out of the car, Addison.”

“But I’m not dressed for a romantic walk,” she protested coyly. “I’m wearing flip-flops, and I don’t even see a beach.” She surveyed the desert pointedly.

He leaned over her and picked her up out of the car, then threw her over his shoulder.

“Hey!” she protested. “Put me down, Tarzan. Your arm is barely healed.”

Without a word, he walked around her open car door and put her down again on the other side. He turned her roughly and shoved her facedown on the hood.

He was in that kind of mood, was he? Mmm . . . she approved. The car would be worth less if they scratched it before they sold it off, but hey, if he didn’t care, why should she?

“And what did I do to inspire this?” she asked, laughing to cover the flare of arousal that came with him manhandling her. He’d been working hard to get past the damage Marcel’s bullet had done to his deltoid. God, he was even more built than before, and he was growling in her ear.

“You exist. That will always be enough. Now, quit treating me like I’m breakable, woman.” He drew the back of her dress up until he got an eyeful of the underwear she wasn’t wearing. There was a sound of pained disbelief. “I think you forgot something.”

“Damn, did I leave the oven on again?”

“You think you’re going to be a funny girl right now, huh?”

The sound of his belt coming off only added to the slickness between her thighs. She loved him like this—horny, half-crazed, wild and almost out of control. Nervously, she rifled through her brain for the safeword she hadn’t yet used. Someday he’d probably make her use it, but so far he’d been good at sensing when she needed him to slow down. She braced, anticipating the hard sting of the leather connecting with her ass, but instead he pulled back her arms and belted her elbows together. She struggled to slip free while keeping an eye on him, but only succeeded in wriggling under his hungry scrutiny.

He buried a fist in her hair. “Where do you think you’re going?”

His breath was warm on her ear, and she could feel him fumbling with the button of his jeans already.

“That depends on if you’re going to fuck me or not.”

His callused palm slid over her bare ass then swatted her sharply. The tingle it left was delicious and she arched up for more.

“What have we talked about, sweetness?” The eerie calm of his voice and tighter grip on her hair made this hotter. “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready.”

He wasn’t ready? Damn. Obviously, she was doing something wrong. She arched her back to try to entice him.

He chuckled darkly then three more swats followed, stinging, ramping up the thudding of her heart.

She struggled then, and he untangled his hand from her hair and held her down with his body, her bound arms trapped between them. With negligible effort he shoved her feet apart with his big boots and crammed his denim-covered erection against her sensitive flesh. It was even worse than wearing tight jeans with a seam that tended to ride up, but she rubbed against the rough fabric, trying to get his erection to hit just the right spot, but only managed to inch herself higher onto the hood.

Even though he hadn’t exerted himself much, Fox was breathing hard. Maybe his cock was stealing his oxygen. He grabbed her hips hard and dragged her back down to him.

“Are you done being a bad girl, Addison, or do you need me to teach you some manners?”

She rested her forehead on the Spyder’s smooth paint, feeling like she was living an echo of the day they’d almost been late for her tattoo appointment.

Her answer came out as a wordless moan. Damn, the man knew all the right things to say.

His breath shook in her ear. “Maybe I should fuck your ass dry to remind you who’s in charge in this relationship,” he said, his voice low and nasty. “You didn’t like that very much the last time, did you?”

She shook her head hard and whined, which only made him laugh. The spit he’d eventually used had made it more bearable, but she preferred lube and patience, even though her aching body had loved the display of dominance.

“When you struggle it gives me the impression you want it rough.”

“Nooo,” she objected. “You like challenges. I’m just being thoughtful.”

He barked a laugh. “You don’t like it rough? Oh, but I think you do.” His fingers sought between her legs, finding her telltale wetness. “What has you dripping and ready for me? You like that idea, of me forcing myself into your poor defenseless ass again?”

“No, please,” she gasped. He coaxed a finger into her pussy, and then a second, then circled a finger over her clit. She trembled, overwhelmed by the way he’d trained her body to react to him.

He knew all too well he was the boss of her when it came to things like this, and the further he pushed her into the submissive role, the more she craved it. He kept teasing her that eventually she’d call him Sir even without meaning to, and she was progressively less resistant to the idea. When he put her on her knees lately, it felt so very right.

“No, please, what?” he mocked. “You don’t want me to shove my cock into your tight little ass?”

Spreading her legs wider, she pushed back against him.

“Careful, little girl. You’re going to make me think you like being treated like this.”

“Cock,” she whined. “Please. I’ll be good.” A residual part of her was still embarrassed he could make her so mindless and needy, but her own baser instincts were completely obsessed with him. When it came to this kind of sex, dignity could go screw itself.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, more to himself than her. He withdrew his fingers, leaving her body empty and wanting, and then his cock was sliding up against her pussy, teasing, but not penetrating.

“Now, please!” The head of his cock kept slipping over her clit, but not hard enough to get her off, even though she was so fucking close to orgasm she could taste it.

“What?” He kept tormenting her, rubbing against her while keeping her pinned to the car with his big hand spanning her lower back. The way he controlled her body made her feel like his pathetic little toy, and she loved every second of it. “You want to go home now? Should I take you back to your apartment and drop you off?” He chuckled evilly.

She meant to make some joke about her roommate, Mariella, helping her work off some frustration, but she knew better than to make him jealous when he was like this. The last time he’d covered her body in hickeys and bite marks, and although it had been fun, Luke and Atlas had teased her mercilessly. Besides, it would’ve distracted him from what she really wanted.

“No, Fox.” She moaned. “Quit teasing. Don’t you want to be inside me? I need you.”

“If you’re not more specific, I’ll use your mouth and leave you like this.”

She hated that she loved that idea. He was twisting her poor mind.

A sob of frustration escaped her, and he thrust into her with a sudden violence that stole her breath. Her body stretched to accommodate him, and she reveled in the rough way he used her. Hell, she was addicted to it. Slow was awesome, too, but his ferocity was awe-inspiring. Fox didn’t do things by half measures anymore—if he’d been alpha before, since he’d been shot he’d become even more intense. Like the threat of death had made him want to ride life even harder.

Caught between him and the car, she couldn’t do more than accept his rough use. His fingers sought out her clit and pinched it, making her gasp and tense, forcing her body even closer to an explosive orgasm. His every thrust connected with her G-spot, and the overwhelming sensation made her eyes roll back. Her cries of pleasure were loud in her ears, over the howls of the wind, and when he rubbed a thumb over her anus she screeched, her body clamping down on his and freezing in place for a long, unbearable, thrilling moment until the orgasm broke over her in jarring, rippling waves. She closed her eyes against the pleasure that overtook her, that he forced her body to accept.

He covered her body with his again, biting down on the spot between shoulder and neck, and fucking her hard, crushing her into the side of the car until his hips lost rhythm and he buried a hand in her hair, as though afraid she’d escape before he could fill her with come. Through the haze of her pleasure she could feel his cock jerk deep inside her, marking her as his own.

When he was spent, his hot breath stirring the hair at her nape, she lay under him, shuddering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, feeling quiet settle over her like a warm, calming blanket. As much as Fox excited her, he made her feel safe. With him, she got the best of both.

Cradled beneath him, she felt as though he was her armor against the harsh world. They’d only known each other what? Six months? But now that they were together all day, almost every day, she couldn’t imagine going back to life without him. Although Marcel may not be a problem again, the danger of their work sometimes made her worry that they wouldn’t have a long life together. Then again, maybe it was better to live fast and hard while they were still young.

He freed her arms from the confines of his belt. Pins and needles invaded, but nothing worse than when her foot fell asleep. While she flexed her arms, he sucked the spot between her shoulder and neck, where it still stung from his earlier bite.

“Ugh,” she grunted. “What are you doing?”

“Marking you as mine.”

She
tsk
ed in mock annoyance. “You do realize that to see the mark, someone would have to see me partially naked.”

“Hmm . . . good point.” He tensed over her, fiddling with something, and for a moment she thought he’d start fucking her again. The man was insatiable. He kept her sore, more often than not, and she loved it. The way he watched her, even when she was lazing around in track pants at his place, made her feel beautiful.

His hand slammed down on the hood of the car, startling her.

“What was that for?”

“I thought of a better way to mark you. It’s a little more conventional, though, so I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

Confused, she watched as he lifted his hand away. A ring glittered—it was hard to see in the low light, but it was definitely a ring. Not a dainty one, either, with the size of the rock in it.

“What . . . ?”

He nuzzled the side of her face, making her melt. “You should marry me.”

The ring twinkled menacingly in the low light, like a distant star that brought the promise of eventual heartache. She loved him, but what would happen if he got sick or died? It would kill her. But then again, not having a ring wouldn’t make losing him easier.

“Isn’t there a rule saying you can’t ask girls important, life-altering questions while you have them bent over the hood of a stolen car?”

“Hmm. I forgot to check Miss Manners for that one.” His hips moved lazily, and he thrust into her a few times, making her groan with pleasure and forget about the lifetime proposition that hovered inches from her nose. When he stopped again and her eyes focused, she realized he was waiting for an answer.

“I’m not answering you like this.” She tried to turn, to see his face.

He pulled out of her then flipped her over. This was the most undignified proposal ever. She yanked her dress back down and pulled up his jeans.

Now that she could see his face, look into his eyes, she gave the question some real thought. The whole thing was surreal. Who proposed like this? She’d never be able to tell anyone this story. They’d have to come up with a fake one.

As she stared at Fox, she realized he was holding his breath. As if he were waiting for the most important thing in his life. As if she held the key to his happiness.

She smiled, realizing that although this was unexpected, there was nothing in the world she wanted more.

“Yes,” she said, beaming up at him.

He exhaled then grinned back.

“I love you, and I can’t imagine living without you.”

She rose up on her toes and kissed his sexy mouth. He murmured a response while kissing her hungrily. Something about loving her too.

Abruptly, she pulled away and gave him a stern look. “However, if you’re planning on posting this proposal to YouTube later, I’m safewording that shit right now.”

He chuckled. “It would probably go over better on a kink site, but hey, at least I untied your arms.”

“And they say romance is dead.”

“I organized a flash mob, but they must have gotten lost.” He peered around them then shrugged.

Laughing, she held out her hand and he picked the ring up and slid it onto her finger. It was a little too big, but not a bad guess.

After he put it on, he kept her hand in his and watched her face. “I never planned on getting married. I always thought it would be Luke or Atlas who’d settle down while I focused on running the business until I was old and grumpy like my uncle.” He chuckled. “But lately . . . I’ve been worried that if I don’t hurry up and marry you, you’ll realize you can do way better than the likes of me.”