Beyond Pain (5 page)

In the shadows, but not quite hidden, which was part of the game. Jas and Noelle were into the exhibitionism, all right, but sometimes this seemed to turn them on the most. The thin veneer of privacy, all too easily pierced by prying, hungry eyes.

Bren slid behind Six, directing her gaze more firmly to the couple. "Now,
that
is different. They don't just not mind. They want you to see."

"Oh," she breathed, as if she hadn't meant to say anything at all. Her body was primed, and the battle between tension and arousal left her trembling as they both watched Noelle free Jas's erection. Noelle's face was blissful as she stroked her fingers up his shaft, and Six's hand constricted around her glass until her knuckles turned white.

Jasper's groan echoed in Bren's chest, but he held it back in favor of quiet, careful words. "What about you? Do you want to watch?"

Noelle used her tongue to taunt Jasper into sinking his hands into her unbound hair, his fists twisting tight. Six made a muffled noise and leaned into Bren. "I guess I'm a freaky pervert, after all."

He rested one hand on her hip to steady her. "It's not a joke, not any more than the blowjobs or the whips or anything else. It can be something you
need
."

"Do you need it?"

He tried not to tense. Not that it mattered--it wasn't like his predilections were a big secret. "It's hot, but the only thing I'd call a need of mine is the pain."

She didn't reply, not until Noelle's lips were stretched wide around Jasper's shaft. Six's free hand fell to cover Bren's, her nails digging into his wrist as she shifted uncomfortably. "I couldn't do this," she whispered, and it sounded like a warning. "I couldn't let them watch."

He shivered at the bite of her nails in his skin. "So?"

Her grip tightened, threatening to break the skin. "It's not rude? To get all cranked up and leave to take care of it?"

As if Jas and Noelle would expect her participation in a scene they hadn't discussed with her first. "They're not doing it for your benefit, not like you think. Not so you'll return the favor."

Noelle's hungry moan rose, dragging more eyes than theirs to the corner in time to watch her cross her wrists behind her back in willing, submissive invitation. Jasper teased her by going slow, rocking his hips in short movements before thrusting deep without warning.

"Fucking hell," Six muttered, losing her grip on her glass. Bren didn't have time to catch it before it hit the cement floor with a sharp crack, the glass shattering into a dozen razor-edged pieces.

Six flushed and twisted to face him. "Crap, I'm sorry. I didn't--"

He laid his finger over her lips and slid his free arm around her waist. "Watch the glass."

Lifting her over it was easy--too easy. She'd been in Sector Four for a couple months now, but she was still too thin. Almost delicate.

But she was warm. Her breath was warm too, puffing against his finger with every quick breath. Her nipples were hard little buds he could feel through their clothes, clear evidence of her arousal.

He had to get her out of there before he broke all the careful promises he'd made.

Her body rubbed against his as he lowered her, and he gritted his teeth until her boots hit the floor. "I'll take you back to your room, if you want."

She stared at his chest for a tense moment before nodding.

Her hand was shaking when he wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her through the crowd and out the side exit. The heavy metal door swung shut behind them, blocking out all the music except for the dull thud of the bass.

She inhaled deeply as the cool night air enveloped them, but didn't speak. Usually she seemed as comfortable with not talking as he was, but tonight their silence was more tense than companionable. She clutched his hand as they crossed the cracked asphalt, not letting go until they reached the building that held the O'Kanes' living quarters.

"You can go back to the party if you want," she said abruptly. "I'm okay."

He kicked open the door and held it for her. "I'm not going to shove you down the hall and run for it. I'm taking you home."

"I won't get jumped between here and my room," she retorted, rolling her eyes, but there was no heat in the words, and her fingers brushed his. "Hell, no one's jumped me in months except you, during practice. I'm probably getting rusty."

"Will you just let me do this?"

She fell silent again.

Anger had lent his words a brusque edge, and he knew she'd assume he was pissed at her, at the world--anyone but himself. "Sorry."

Six shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm a pain in the ass."

He never broke his word. He never lost
control
. "I promised I wouldn't go there, and I shouldn't have."

"Wait." She grabbed his wrist and hauled him to a stop. "Go where?"

"The party." Except that wasn't quite it. "The sex."

Her brows tugged down in confusion. "What, watching other people have it?"

He felt worse. "You wouldn't have if I hadn't pushed you to, and now look at us."

"You didn't
do
anything." But she released his wrist and took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that screamed defensiveness. "I'm not some sheltered city girl who's never seen a guy getting sucked off before."

"But I promised--" And then it hit him, a thunderclap of understanding. She wasn't a city girl, no. But she'd been sheltered, because she had no idea. "You don't know, do you? How close we were?"

Those dark eyes were so wary. "To what? Fucking?"

He closed the space between them. He couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help the way his voice roughened. "Fucking. It doesn't start when you get naked, not the way I do it."

She stiffened, but even with him crowding her space, she didn't shrink away. She didn't look away, either, just stared up at him as her uneven breaths pushed her tits against his chest. "How does it start?"

"Like this." His hands itched to slide up and cup her flesh so he'd know what kind of noise she made when he pinched her nipples between his fingers. "When we both start thinking about it. When we both want it."

Her gaze dipped to his mouth, and her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip. "Maybe that's how it starts, but it shouldn't count until you're trying to get in me. So you didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

Bren scoffed. He was so hard it hurt, and he'd bet cash money she was so wet he'd have to fight to keep his fingers from slipping on her thighs as he positioned her for that first thrust. Maybe it shouldn't count, but it sure the hell did.

Didn't it?

He stepped back, putting a solid two feet of distance between them before meeting her eyes again. "You wouldn't tell me if I
did
do something wrong, though. Would you?"

She blinked, as if he'd broken a spell, and her features twisted into a scowl. "If you did something I didn't want, I'd knee your balls halfway to your throat."

Which didn't mean she wouldn't let him lead her, talk her around to something because she trusted him to know what was best. To treat her kindly. "Come on." He resumed his path down the hall. "It's getting late."

She trailed behind him, silent as a shadow until he reached her room. She paused with her fingers on the doorknob. "You don't have to go back to the party to get off. We could--or I could. I mean, if you want."

Oh, Christ. "I'm not going back to the party." And he'd be damned before he let any woman, much less a traumatized one, throw him a pity jerk.

"Oh." She pushed open the door, but didn't cross the threshold. "But you don't wanna mess around?"

It was his own fucking fault for jumping the gun, for the mixed signals of putting his hands on her. "Maybe some other time."

Awkward silence stretched out forever before she turned and walked stiffly into her room. "Okay, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. If we've still got practice."

"Three o'clock this time." By then, he could lock it down. Get his libido under control.

She made a quiet noise--agreement, acknowledgment, he couldn't even tell--and closed the door in his face.

Bren backed against the opposite wall and indulged himself with one light bang of his head against the brick. She was upset, he was an ass--and the whole situation would get worse, not better, if they had to hit Sector Three
this
twisted up.

No way. It was too dangerous, not to mention unfair to her. He'd fix it.

Somehow.

Rachel had slid into Sector Four so smoothly it was like she'd always been an O'Kane, but Mad could have watched her for thirty seconds and known she wasn't sector-born.

She didn't know how to hide her pain. Everyone who grew up in the sectors learned to sooner or later--it was your only defense against bullies, not to mention the cruelty of a world that favored strength over compassion. Not everyone grew up to be a good actor, but you stood a better chance of growing up at all if you refused to let anyone see when you were hurting.

Rachel sucked at hiding. As he approached, he watched her slam more dirty glasses on the counter, her movements so rough she snagged a fingernail under the edge of the plastic tray and snapped it off.

"Perfect," she muttered in a defeated voice that pinched at his heart.

Blood pearled on her fingertip. Mad reached for her wrist, ignoring her start of surprise as he lifted her hand to examine the damage. Not too bad, but it had to sting like a bitch. "Bad day, darling?"

Her hand twitched, as if she'd barely stopped herself from jerking away. "I broke a nail, that's all."

Liar.
Calling her on it wouldn't help, so he rubbed his thumb over her palm and tilted his head toward the remains of the party. "You don't have to clean this all up tonight, you know. Plenty of people'll be around to help you tomorrow, if you want."

"It's got to be done." The words were brittle. Pained. "May as well get it over with."

Alone
. It seethed under the words, and Mad would have had to be blind and stupid not to know why. With Jasper stepping up into a leadership role, Ace had been left without a partner. Cruz was the perfect replacement, a steady straight man to play off Ace's lazily deceptive charm.

It had proven a killer combination in the past, and everyone had expected them to put aside their shit and get the job done. No one had expected them to hit it off--least of all the woman they'd been fighting over.

He gave her hand a final squeeze before releasing it to see to the tray. "Well, if you're determined to do it
now
, you'll have to put up with me helping. Besides, I don't get to see much of you these days. Dallas has kept me busy."

She joined him in unloading the tray. "Maybe we can rustle up another regular poker game. Think Jas wants to teach Noelle how to play?"

From what he'd seen of Noelle and Jas lately, any poker game with the two of them would involve betting clothing and eventually sexual favors. Fun as hell, but Rachel was still holding on to too much of that sweet Eden innocence that Noelle had been throwing away with both hands.

"Better off asking Flash and Amira," he suggested instead. "She's going crazy, waiting for that baby to join us. Or maybe Flash is the one driving her there."

Rachel blew her bangs out of her face and sighed. "He's worried about her, that's all. Just scared."

"I know. Hell, we're all a little worried. Babies aren't much of a thing out here."

"Yeah." Rachel picked up a dishcloth and twisted it between her fingers.

He watched her wrench it into knots, her grip white-knuckled, before closing his hand over hers. "What's weighing so heavy on you, honey?"

She didn't answer at first. Emotion played across her face--anger, hurt, bewilderment--and she whispered, "There's nothing more important than the brotherhood, is there?"

Ace and Cruz, then. It must seem like that from the outside, like they'd fallen together and left her behind, and the guys would close ranks behind them. Which was true.

To a point.

Cruz was new, but Ace had been around long enough to know what would happen if the O'Kane women decided he'd done Rachel wrong. "You're forgetting sisterhood."

"Touché." She swallowed hard and looked up at him, her gaze bordering on pleading. "What would you do?"

There was no answer he could give that would fix things, and that hurt most of all. "I always do the same thing. Love everyone who crosses my path. Love 'em as much as I can, for as long as they need." He brushed his thumb over her cheek and tucked a lock of hair back from her face. "You're not me, honey."

She leaned in to his touch. "I could be. Is it easier?"

"It's the easiest thing in the world." He curled an arm around her and tugged her against his side, a little comfort to soften the truth to come. "But it won't heal what's hurting you."

Rachel poked him. "It's not so bad. I'm not brooding, or anything. Much," she added ruefully.

He poked back, throwing in a tickle to make her smile. "Nah, you're just smashing around and ripping your fingernails off."

"What do I care, anyway?" Rachel hid her face against his shoulder, belying the defiance of her words. "I'm free. I can do whatever the hell I want."

"Sure you can. Lord knows it's a pleasure I've enjoyed to its fullest." He rubbed her back, sliding his fingers along her spine in long, soothing strokes. "You've never done that, have you?"

"What? Thrown myself into affairs?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Maybe." She tilted her head back and met his gaze. "I'm tired of doing things my way. It's not working."

The moment was so delicate, and the familiar temptation rose. Rachel was sweet-natured with a delicious edge of sass, and he was as fond of her as he was of all the O'Kane girls. There was an invitation in her eyes, whether she knew it or not, one it would be no hardship to accept.

He knew how to play a good hero. Sweep in and rock her world, and it wouldn't have to be anything more than the same easy pleasure he'd shared with Trix already that night. Two friends getting each other off.