Bound: Minutemen MC (9 page)

She tossed and turned under the covers until she could find a comfortable position, and then she let out a long, frustrated breath. She felt stuck for all intents and purposes. She didn’t know where to turn or what to do. It felt as though anything she might think up would eventually just turn out to be a huge mistake and blow up in her face.

She thought of Dirk and of his Greek-god-like body, and as she drifted off to sleep, she wondered why her thoughts always ended up gravitating towards his gorgeous nakedness—no matter what else was going on around her.

Chapter 14: To Not Love Anyone

Over the next few nights, Dirk made extra sure that his sexual encounters with Camilla were just about that. Sex. Nothing else. He knew she wasn’t really getting any ideas, but their brief exchange from a couple of nights ago made him realize just how easy it would be for that to happen—for either of them. For reasons that he didn’t really care to examine or think about, telling Camilla in no uncertain terms that there was nothing else but great, scorching hot sex between them had left him with a sense of dissatisfaction in the pit of his stomach.

And so Dirk took extra measures to make sure there were no misunderstandings of any sort.

He had not been lying when he had said that the men’s mounting tension was starting to get to him. In fact, the whole situation was. It was less than an ideal predicament, stuck in Northburg waiting for their enemies to make a move. Camilla wasn’t the only one who felt like she was suffocating. Dirk, too, was pretty much climbing the walls.

It didn’t help that whatever was going on between him and Camilla—he didn’t really have a name for it, although he would never be caught admitting that anything was going on at all—was bringing back memories of Eleanor. He was spelling out her name in his head now, no longer an ensemble of letters he refused to even think about.

Eleanor, who had been the one to make anything matter after the war. Eleanor, whom he had loved so fiercely he had thought he might just die from it. Eleanor, whom he had asked to marry him. Eleanor, who had brought him back to life and whose death had killed him again. Eleanor, who had been killed by Tar Mongols president Herman Ruiz in retaliation.

After that, Dirk had sworn to himself that nothing as horrific would ever happen to someone he loved, ever again. In his way of life, however, the only way to make sure of that was to simply not love anyone. Dirk would not and could not fall for Camilla, no matter what went down between them. No matter how telltale the signs were.

Because he had noticed them, the signs. He wasn’t stupid. He might not be as skilled in matters of the heart as he was in combat, but he wasn’t blind either. He knew Stephan had been right. He knew there was a concrete, actual chance that he might fall for Camilla. And he had to put a stop to it.

He didn’t put a stop to the sex, of course—it would have been suicidal to do so—but he did put a stop to the shared moments right afterwards. Now, he made sure he was out of the room as soon as they were done. He could tell Camilla was infuriated by it, but she wasn’t saying anything, and he was secretly grateful to her for that.

Control. It was all about that, ultimately. It always was. Control over her and over himself. It was the only way Dirk knew to make sure nothing ever happened to her.

***

Even with the emotional element cut out—provided that there had ever been an emotional element to speak of—sex with Camilla was mind-blowing. The sudden, stubborn distance he had put between them didn’t seem to affect her performance. If anything, it seemed to enhance it, as if he had lifted a weight off of her shoulders, too.

He currently had her pinned against the wall in her bedroom, both of them naked and eager and fired up. Because that was the thing about Camilla—she fired him up. Dirk had been unconsciously waiting for a long time to find his fire again. He had his fist buried into her auburn hair and was kissing her passionately, and Camilla was letting herself be kissed and was returning his scorching hot touches with just as much fervent urgency. His hands were all over her, and her hands were all over him, fevered touches exploring each other’s body—which by now they knew so well—hungry mouths locked and eager tongues swirling.

Dirk slid a hand up her naked thigh, his fingertips digging into her flesh deep enough that he was probably going to create bruises. She didn’t seem to mind. He splayed a hot palm over her mons and began teasing her clitoris with his thumb, grinning when he heard her gasp in surprise and pleasure.

He cupped one of her breasts with his free hand, feeling the soft contours and pinching the nipple enough to sting but not to hurt. His mouth came into play soon after, leaving a hot trail of kisses and love bites down her throat and along her collarbone. He always tried to be careful and not leave any visible marks, but sometimes his enthusiasm just got the best of him. It was hard to keep himself in check with a woman as explosively sexy as Camilla.

She reached out to take his cock into his hand and began stroking him. Dirk growled and slapped her hand away.
He
was the one in control.
He
was the one taking the initiative. Camilla groaned in pleased frustration and laid her head back against the wall, looking up at him through eyes at half-mast with ecstasy.
God, but I could come just from looking at her!
he thought.

Dirk kept on touching and teasing and tantalizing until she was wet and hot enough that she felt ready to burst. Only then did he take her. He lifted up her thigh and wrapped her leg around his waist, and he took her. He didn’t indulge in any slow movements. This particular session wasn’t one for indulging; it was one for fire. It was one for fast movements, harsh gasps, and low, guttural moans. It was one for hip thrusting and neck biting.

Camilla welcomed him just as readily, just as wildly. She abandoned herself to their moment of all-consuming passion completely. She always did, and it was one of the many things about her that drove him absolutely crazy.

The orgasm was an explosion of white light that brought with it a short circuit of his brain. For a few, blissful moments, Dirk was unable to think of anything, feel anything, or experience anything that wasn’t the absolute ecstasy of his climax. Camilla came with him. They had been coming simultaneously for a while now, but neither of them was willing to stop and think about what that might mean.

Once they had both regained their bearings, Dirk put her back down and disentangled himself carefully. They got dressed in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Their silences were never uncomfortable, and they never thought of asking themselves why.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said once he was ready to go and already halfway to the door.

Camilla nodded. If she felt like he was using her, she never said anything. Maybe she was using him, too. Dirk had no idea why, but the thought that that may be the case really pissed him off.

He didn’t feel like attempting sleep just yet, so he walked through the dark, silent house to the common room. He was looking for peace and quiet. He was looking to maybe read a book by the fireplace. He was
not
looking for a heart-to-heart, which was why he wasn’t all too happy to discover that he wasn’t the only insomniac in the household.

Stephan had preceded him and was reading a heavy tome on one of the brown leather armchairs by the fireplace. The flames and the reading lamp were the only sources of light in the otherwise pitch-black room.

Dirk advanced carefully. He knew that leaving now would arise suspicion and bring on questions; there was no way Stephan hadn’t noticed his presence. Stephan always noticed everything. It was unnatural and, quite frankly, exasperating.

He took a seat in the other armchair and stretched his legs out, sighing in contentment despite everything when the warmth of the fire spread over to hm.

Stephan looked up at him. “Good sex tonight?” he asked with a smirk.

Dirk grinned right back. Another infuriating thing about Stephan was that it didn’t matter how annoyed Dirk was, he could never stay mad at him for too long. “Good sex
every
night,” he said.

Stephan laughed. “I’ll bet. She looks like she knows what she’s doing.”

“Believe me, she does.”

Stephan picked up the bookmark from the small table between them and closed the book, which the now visible cover revealed to be a collection of short stories by Kafka. Stephan wasn’t one for easy reading, which suited Dirk just fine because he wasn’t either.

“The men have begun to talk,” he said. He didn’t seem mad about it.

Dirk frowned. “You think they know?”

Stephan arched a blond eyebrow. “Well, you’re being anything but subtle, my friend.”

Dirk smiled sheepishly. “I suppose I’m not.” He thought it over for a moment. “I suppose I should put an end to it then.” He didn’t like that notion. He didn’t like it
at all
.

“Why?” Stephan asked. He looked genuinely surprised.

“What do you mean?” Dirk said. “I can’t imagine anyone would be very happy that I’m having sex with our prisoner. It might undermine my authority in their eyes.”

Stephan stared at him. And then, out of nowhere, he burst out laughing.

Dirk scowled, surprised and even a little offended. “What?” he said, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

“Are you kidding me?” Stephan said when he had composed himself enough that he could speak again. “You’re a fucking hero to everyone.”

Dirk blinked, taken aback. “I am?”

“Look, buddy,” Stephan was still chuckling, “I may be gay, but I ain’t blind. I can see just how desirable she is. She’s probably one of the most intriguing, beautiful women I’ve ever seen. And everyone else thinks so, too. They’re all jealous.”

“Oh.” Dirk couldn’t help the stupid, proud grin that came to his lips then. He was still a man, after all; he couldn’t help but feel proud of his conquest.

“Just don’t make a mystery of it, all right? Brag a little. Things are tense enough around here; we all could do with a good story.”

“You think?” Dirk asked.

“Oh, yeah. Besides,” Stephan said, stretching languidly, “all of your sneaking around is making the men feel alienated. It’s about the last thing we need, given our current situation.”

Dirk paused. He had not thought of it that way. He heaved a fake sigh. “Well then, if it’s for the good of the club, I’ll make the sacrifice and talk largely about my sexual prowess.”

Stephan grinned. “You do that.” He hesitated. “Still not falling for her, are you?”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “No, Stephan. I’m not falling for her.”
Believe me, I’m doing everything I can to make sure that I don’t.

Stephan nodded. “Good.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while.

“Stephan?” Dirk called out after quite some time had passed.

“Hm?” Stephan replied distractedly, his hazel eyes staring deep into the fire, as if it contained the answers to each and every mystery of the universe.

“How much longer do you think this will go on?” Dirk looked over at him. “Surely Ruiz will be on the move soon.”

Stephan sighed heavily. He ran a hand tiredly across his face. “Beats me,” he admitted.

It wasn’t often that Stephan Walker admitted to not know what was going on, and every time that happened, it sent a chill down Dirk’s spine.

“It’s not like him,” Stephan said.

“No, it’s not,” Dirk agreed darkly.

“We should start keeping a sharper eye on your friend,” Stephan said after a moment.

Dirk frowned in confusion. “Why’s that?”

Stephan turned his head to look at him. “She’s getting antsy.”

Dirk snorted. “Well, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Stephan said. “And that’s exactly the point. If it were me, I would also be plotting my escape.”

Dirk stared at him. “Do you think she would be that stupid?”

Stephan shrugged. “Enforced confinement can make people do stupid things.”

His features darkened almost on their own accord, and Dirk did his best to keep his sympathy from showing. Stephan had spent months as a prisoner of the Taliban in Afghanistan. It had done dark things to his soul and spirit, and that darkness never left him.