Outlaw Road (A MC Romance) (10 page)

I caught the glint of his teeth. “Yeah? Propriety isn't exactly my strong suit. How does that kind of thank you work?”

Though I was panicking inside, I ran my shaking hand down his arm, grazing his vest as I went. He didn't pull away, and that by itself was encouraging. “I have a few ideas.”

He leaned a mere inch forward, the simple motion sending that intoxicating scent of his right into my brain. “Enlighten me,” he whispered.

For a second I locked up, lost in the heady, warm aroma of his being. We were close enough that I could see a small scar on the side of his jaw, the ruddy color of his unfairly full lips. Men shouldn't have such glorious eyes, especially men I was supposed to seduce.

My confidence was cracking under the rumble of warmth in my stomach. Ronin hardly blinked, eyes half-lidded, lazy in his expectation. I was learning the type of man he was very quickly, but each new layer I revealed just exposed a more enticing one.

Was the situation making me unstable, or was it the heat of his body?

His lips twitched, and my inhale was so crisp and loud I made myself blush. “So,” he said, drawling out his word. “If 'proper' is to just stand here, blessing me with silence, I'll take the alternative. It's not a terrible thank you, I guess I just expected a bit more.”

More.

The word implied a million things. All of them were decadent, sinful and tantalizing. My plan was fading in the wake of Ronin's impossibly raw presence. It wasn't supposed to go this way. How did women make this look so easy in the movies? They'd touch a guy on the chin and he'd drool right into her palm.

Except, with Ronin's mouth inches away,
I
felt like drooling. Dammit.

Biting my tongue, I dove into the brief pain—chased it and let it clear my mind.
Claudine, the motorcycle keys, the escape. Focus!
With new determination, I pushed my body against his, driving him into the wall. The 'thud' was cathartic, the glimmer of intrigue in Ronin's stare enhancing my awareness.

In just the bathrobe, my collarbone scraped over the smooth surface of his leather vest. Lowering my palms, I stroked the material, trying to covertly feel for his keys. Ronin made a small noise. “That's more like it.”

Glancing up at him, I tugged his vest away. He watched it go, following it as it landed on the floor. I thought there was a shade of something tragic in his eyes, but I couldn't be sure. I had other things to worry about.

I reached for his belt, planning to carefully search his pockets next. His fingers darted out, catching my wrist firmly. “Slow down,” he hushed, pulling my attention back to him. “You don't need to rush. Not like we're going anywhere tonight.”

Hot guilt mixed with my paranoia.
Why would he say that?
Did he suspect something? Looking into his cocky expression, I didn't think so. But the man was a damn enigma. One second he was rescuing me, another imprisoning me, and now...

Now, I'm wondering how far he'll let me go with him.

In my head, the idea of luring Ronin into disrobing had seemed efficient. I wasn't ready for the way he affected me. And fuck, definitely not ready for the way his skin felt when it touched mine. There was a wickedness in his face, an alluring thing that made this encounter too real. I wanted to lock my mind away and act on impulse, but Ronin was a magnet that wouldn't allow me to withdraw.

He took my hand, slid it up over his shirt. Beneath the material, I felt the hard valley of his stomach muscles. Without looking, I could tell he was magnificent. Something low and hot and primal twinged within me, the pressure rolling down until I clenched my thighs.

My shiver went from my toes to my scalp; there was no hiding how I shut my eyes to endure it.
What the hell? What's wrong with me?
I was supposed to be the one in charge of this situation. This was
my
secret escape attempt!

Between us both, an impossible fire was burning. I didn't know who had started it, just that it was clawing at my center, tightening my chest and my heart. This man was too exciting for me, he was pulling me under and taking my air.

Why did drowning feel so damn
good?

“Flora.”

I jerked my head up, blinking at his calm gaze. My lips were both swollen and dry. “I—yes?”

“I said slow, not stop.” His grin was slanted charmingly.

With great effort, I nodded—my whole head felt full of iron ball bearings. I didn't dare try and explain.
Just find the keys
. I didn't have to sleep with him, I told myself that fact over and over. I'd get the keys, shove his pants around his ankles, then push him aside and just
run
before he could react.

The door wasn't locked right now. If I was fast enough, I could do this.

Swallowing, my stare drifted lower. I saw his belt, my fingers perching above it. Summoning control, I forced my hand against the leather strap. The metal clasp dangled free after I tugged it, a gate that waited for me to go further.

I can do this.

Each thump of my heart entranced me.

It's nothing, just unzip him.

Yes. It would be so simple. Even with my trembling hands, surely I could get his jeans down, and then... then...

Oh god. Oh fucking god.

I knew, logically, the keys had to be in his pockets. On my way there to confirm, a challenge on its own, I'd come across something else. Something that stole my breath and demanded my attention far more than my stealth.

Ronin's jeans outlined the entire length of what had to be the biggest cock I'd ever imagined. It strained against the material, proclaiming its existence and tempting me to set it free.

Just seeing it, picturing what it might look like—how it would feel—had my lungs testing the strength of my ribs. My legs shook, my muscles wavering. The sheer, violent pressure that rocketed down into my lower belly left me delirious.

This... this situation... no. It was beyond me. I couldn't do this.

“What's wrong?” he whispered, his hand curling around to cup my lower back. He'd hardly touched me this entire time, but my cells lit up like he'd been intentionally stoking my arousal. “You're not giving up already, are?”

A chill slid through my veins. I gaped at Ronin with growing paranoia. “Excuse me?”

Shrugging, he lowered his face until our foreheads nearly touched. He spoke quietly, each shape his lips formed making me ache to kiss him. “Was it my gun or my keys you were looking for?”

Everything around me shattered. Stumbling backwards, my jaw fell open.
He saw right through me.
If I'd had any doubt, his smug smirk said it all. Ronin had known it was all a ruse. Fuck, I was such an idiot.

Wrenching my robe shut tightly, I turned partially away. If I could have folded into a ball and vanished, I would have. “You knew what I was doing?”

His laugh was gritty, but brief. “Turns out you're not the first girl I've been with that had less than innocent motives. To be honest though, I didn't think you had it in you.”

“Fuck you,” I mumbled, hunching more. I didn't want him to see how red I was, my shame running into my gut and turning into hard marbles.

“Don't feel too bad, darlin'. It was a hell of a show.” He stepped around me, grabbing a pillow off of the bed. As I watched curiously, Ronin dropped it on the floor, sitting beside it to take off his shoes.

“What are you doing?”

He spared me a glance, smoothing his long hair back. “Getting comfortable. You've certainly earned the bed. At least for tonight.”

My hands slid to my hips. “You're sleeping in here?”

Pausing, Ronin gave me a pointed look. “I believe the reservation was under my name. Besides I'm not leaving you alone.”

“Because you don't trust me,” I said flatly.

“Shockingly, no.” Turning back to his shoes, he placed them in a neat pile with his vest. “However, that robe is a fantastic look on you.”

His blatant reminder had my cheeks aflame all over again. “Why won't you just let me leave? Just... god, just let me out of here!”

Scratching the back of his neck, he stretched out on the floor. Somehow, even without a blanket, he managed to look comfortable. “You'll leave when I say so.”

Hesitating by the door, I glared at him. Like he was reading my mind, he closed his eyes and mumbled, “Even if you manage to slip past me, Roach has all the doors locked, and breaking a window or something else will just trigger his alarm system. It's been a long day, I'll be in no mood to drag you back into this room.”

In defiance, I considered my options. I could attack the man on the floor, but that seemed insane. I could slip out, but if he wasn't lying—and why would he have to—then the whole building was my prison, now.

Ronin was right about one important thing—I
did
need sleep. Exhaustion was settling in, brought on by the rampant rush of my earlier excitement and my abrupt, crushing defeat.

For a long while, I stood by the door. The shiny knob called to me, but the promises it made were shallow. Without another word, I flicked the lights off.

Climbing onto the bed, I buried myself deep in the covers, inching to the side furthest from my captor. If I had any choice, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

I didn't even want to
think
about him.

Unfortunately, my mind was roiling with my confused emotions, and Ronin was at the forefront. The things I'd done had left me cold and small. In contradiction, in the heat of the moment, my insides had burned with a light-headed desire for the biker. How did I explain any of that?

It was naive of me to try and trick him. Somehow, during my facade, I'd opened the door to a piece of myself that had been eager to experience his body's promises. There was a fierce pull that drew me to Ronin, an impulse crafted purely from lust.

His scent, his stare, his soft looking lips and even his wicked smiles...

I'd wanted so badly to taste him. To
feel
him. And when I'd seen the proof of his own desire, the full, hard thickness of his erection, I'd pulsed with arousal. If Ronin hadn't spoken up, calling me out, what would I have done next?

The idea had me tingling, ankles crossing under the blanket.
No! Stop it!
I wasn't going to go down this road. The man was keeping me hostage, he didn't have my best interests in mind. It was reckless to desire—or even just fantasize—about someone like him.

He toyed with me,
I reminded myself.
But then... I toyed with him, too.
My embarrassment was awful, but it did lead me to consider something. I knew how much Ronin had gotten to me, he'd made my thighs weak, my core tense.

But I'd seen his damn erection.

In spite of knowing my deceptive plan, had he desired me, too?

Was he lying there beside me, right now, just as worked up?

Gritting my teeth, I buried my face in my pillow. I was miserable here, sick with too many worries. I had to think about my sister, my escape—
her
escape. It didn't matter an inch if this guy had been turned on by me, or if he'd felt the same exciting static.

I had a mission... I had someone who needed me. That was all that mattered.

I would never let that change.

But still, as I drifted off to sleep, my last thoughts were haunted by the sensation of Ronin's hands on my body. That sharp smile, those perfect arms...

And the way he'd stolen me off into the cool night.

Ronin

––––––––

T
he cool white light of an overcast dawn filtered through the blinds and paled my closed eyelids. I laid on the floor and dreamed of sleep.

I've never been a very conflicted man, at least not since I came home. I gave up on concern, caution and consequences a ways back. It was all just so unnecessarily cumbersome. Every once in a while, despite my best efforts, I'd slip up and need a reminder. Fortunately there was always a Tash, or in this case, a Flora, to show me the futility of sympathy.

With closed eyes, my hands lightly stroked the polished hardwood of my makeshift bed. I counted the grooves, stubbornly trying to fill my head with something other than the girl gently sleeping two feet away.

I was doing the right thing. I was giving her what she wanted, really. In the end, Flora just wanted to go back to where I'd found her. Who was I to interrupt a death wish?

I worked my fingertips over the wood grain and into the gaped seams that commonly accompanied the rustic barn look, idly scratching at the minute nub of one tiny jutting nail. I was trying to forget the way Flora's smooth flesh had drunk in the yellow light just a few hours before.

The night was dark and busy with justifications and mental distractions as I laid awake listening to the slight, sweet pull of air from my rescued prize-turned-prisoner.

When the morning finally broke, it swept all the shadows into my heart. In an odd, real way, this was the first time I'd spent the whole night with a girl in as long as I could remember. I told myself the reason I couldn't sleep was because she might escape, and if she did, I'd have nothing to offer the Knights when they showed up later.

I sighed. The truth was annoyingly more complicated. I knew what Flora was up to the moment I'd walked in and saw her in that robe. Under any other circumstances, I'd have egged her on, taken the charade as far as it could go and gotten off.

Why didn't I? What had changed?

It wasn't just the news about my club. I did my best fucking after funerals. Sex consoled me.

Flora's sister...

The notion of throwing yourself into certain death for the love of someone else—it was fucking ridiculous. Admirable, sure.

Or it would've been—if her story was even remotely true.

No, from the way Flora tried to play me, I knew she was just looking to get back on the free heroin train like all the other girls at that brothel. I'd never met a more convincing actor than a junkie looking to get high.

Hell, in my darker days, I could've been on Broadway. But now that I was clean, how many times did I have to learn that fucking lesson the hard way?