Rebel on the Run (11 page)

“Oh.” She blinked up at him as if surfacing from a daze. “Sure. Okay.”

It was torture to let her get up and escape the nest they’d made together, the cocoon of reminiscences rehashed mixing with memories they’d make tonight. Part of him panicked at the thought of letting her out of his sight. Afraid of squandering the amazing chemistry they’d enhanced this evening.

“Kaelyn.” He couldn’t say what possessed him to call her back. Maybe it was the way her fingers trembled on the doorframe. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

“Yes?” She swallowed as she looked over at him. Even from across the room, the power of their connection impressed him.

“Hurry back, lady.” He winked at her. “I’ll be waiting.”

The smile she flashed lit up every shadow lingering in his soul. If one simple gesture could illuminate the far reaches of the darkness lurking there, he couldn’t wait to see what the fireworks of their joining would do.

To them both.

When she’d slipped into the hall, he jumped into action, turning the lights down low and racing in the opposite direction for the essentials in the other room. No one he bumped into bothered to stop him when they glimpsed the lust and need in his eyes.

Alanso slapped him on the back as he returned with a bouquet, a cheap box of wine and his iPod in tow. Kind of pathetic, but the best he could muster. “Good luck, Rebel.”

“Thank you.” He raced for his room with the impatience of a teenager after the prom, an event he’d missed and planned to make up for.

Right now.

All night long.

Chapter Six

Kaelyn took a deep breath, thankful for the minute or two alone she had to compose herself before committing to a night of delicious torture. After all, she’d dreamed of sleeping in Bryce’s arms a million times. To do more than sleep would be beyond her greatest expectations.

Her hands trembled, rattling the toothbrush someone had set outside the door to Bryce’s room in a plastic orange cup with her name scrawled on a piece of masking tape stuck to it. A comb and some other toiletries accompanied the thoughtful present.

Part of her tried not to admit her and Bryce’s instantly rejuvenated chemistry and their ultimate lack of decorum on the bathroom sink had flustered her.

But they had.

She’d never experienced
passion
like that before.

Everything in her life had been so sterile, generic. She hadn’t realized…

Combined with the evening they’d spent proving that their easy connection hadn’t eroded in the nine years they’d been apart, she had no reason to say no to a second, bigger helping of nookie with Bryce.

So when she’d proposed ramping things up for the night, she’d acted as worldly as she dared and shrugged her shoulder as if it would be no big deal to camp out in his bed, which rivaled the size of her canopy bed at home—minus the frills, of course.

Under the pretense of brushing her teeth, she scooted down the hallway. Warm light leaked from beneath the Hot Rods’ bedroom doors, leaving the bathrooms dark. She counted as she went, another habit she’d picked up living in a mansion and frequenting others often. On autopilot, her emotions zinged from trepidation to downright lust at the prospect of snuggling tight to the furnace Bryce had made on those cool evenings they’d spent in her tree house.

Hopefully he hadn’t lost any of that heat.

Somehow, she knew he hadn’t. Heck, he’d practically singed her thighs when he’d buried his face between them earlier. It’d be a million times steamier when it was the thick cock she’d spied tenting his sweatpants filling her instead of his tongue doing the dirty work.

She didn’t even dare to think about that without risking spontaneous combustion.

Distracted, Kaelyn lost count. Glancing back then forward, she tried to remember exactly where the bathroom she’d used had been but the hall was long and the doors looked identical as she traveled deeper into the Hot Rods’ lair, away from the main living space. She picked the next one with no sign of someone inside. The shadows beneath had her fairly sure she’d reached the bathroom. How would she stare at herself in the mirror long enough to wash up, remembering what had happened there?

Fanning her cheeks with one hand, she reached for the knob. Then paused. She delayed by brushing her hair right there in the hallway, slowly, buying some time. After letting it dry naturally, it took a bit to work the knots loose. Then she had no excuses left.

Don’t be so wimpy
, she chided herself.

Before she could chicken out, she turned to the bathroom, flung the door open, stepped inside and slapped her hand over the light switch, filling the room with artificial brightness.

Except it wasn’t the bathroom.

Oh. My. God.

Candles flickered in the corners of the room, illuminating a decadent scene that put her romp to shame. One man—Carver, she thought—had been tied to a chair. Black nylon rope snaked around his thighs, pinning them wide open before encircling his arms and trapping them as well. A hint of black plastic protruded between his legs, making her wonder what he might be sitting on besides the seat cushion. Whatever it was hadn’t kept his cock from standing at full attention, thick and pulsing. Wax coated his ripped and inked chest, making it clear the candles were used for more than illuminating his gorgeous, submissive body.

The meek lovemaking she’d been imagining in her future had nothing on the decadence of the ardor she witnessed as another one of the Hot Rods, Roman, stalked the helpless man, who didn’t seem to mind being prey for the sexual marauder hunting him.

“Can you let it go yet, Meep? Or do you need more?” Barracuda urged his partner to relent. “It’s in the past. I’m in control now. Of myself. And of you. There’s no room here for ghosts. Don’t let that old shit ruin what we’ve built. Bryce isn’t your enemy. None of us chose who we were born to. Let it go.”

Her eyes grew wide as Roman offered to replace emotional distress with physical sensations, something both men could clearly handle better. She hoped their extreme loving would sear away the damage she’d inadvertently done to their relationship with each other, and their friendship with Bryce.

The man in the chair wriggled, fighting his bonds or trying to exorcise his demons.

Kaelyn figured she knew which it was.

Roman let him struggle, let him rail at the world without being a danger to himself or others. He provided an outlet for his friend’s aggression. And seemed to be helping turn Carver’s negative energy into something positive. Pleasurable.

They were beautiful as they helped each other through the turmoil the day had rained down on them.
She
had brought pain to them by accident.

A belt unwrapped from around Roman’s knuckles as he paced, clad only in leather pants. No wonder they called him Barracuda. His predatory strides captivated her, making her stare. She might even have moaned out loud.

Their heads swiveled toward her intrusion.

A yelp escaped her as she realized that she’d barged in on a
very
private moment. Worse yet, she’d gawked instead of pivoting on her heel and running back out. Heck, she kind of wished they hadn’t noticed her so she could have remained mesmerized by their intensity. But they had.

“Holy shipwrecks! I’m sorry.” She clapped her hand over her eyes. The gurgling she heard tempted her to peek from between her fingers. Just to make sure Carver was okay, she promised herself.

Instead of struggling to escape, she saw him arching toward Roman, who’d turned toward her—their unwitting intruder. He removed his hand from its task, whatever that might have been, between his partner’s legs.

“Swinger. Grab her. Make sure she’s okay.” Barracuda’s commands didn’t make sense at first. Until Kaelyn realized that a third man also occupied the space. Holden rose from his perch in the corner—where he’d obviously been enjoying the show. He tucked himself into the gym shorts that had been pooled around his ankles, fast enough to risk injuring the solid hard-on he whisked out of sight. The bulge in the soft fabric did nothing to disguise his impressively erect penis.

Looking away didn’t do her any good as her wide gaze landed on Roman, who now stood in front of his immobile roommate. Whether the stance was intended to protect her modesty or his lover’s, she couldn’t say. Probably both.

“Come on, Kaelyn.” Holden paused with his hand a fraction of an inch from her elbow before closing the gap. The warmth of his hold made her shiver for some reason. His tight expression worried her.

Was he angry that she’d stormed into their scene?

Why wouldn’t he be? He was missing out on the action by playing chaperone to her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again around the ball of fire raging inside her. Except the apology was false, or at least she didn’t offer it for witnessing what she had. In fact, she wished she could rush back and see what Barracuda had in store for his roommate. That was what she’d been missing. Honest responses to base urges. Perfunctory lovemaking, going through the motions without that raw edge…
that
was what had dulled her eagerness to explore. If Bryce could give her even half that level of engagement, she should sprint to his room and jump him.

Holden grunted. Whether because he was furious or because he dismissed her contrition, she wasn’t sure. It could be painful arousal making him brusque since he’d been so rudely interrupted. He marched her toward Bryce’s quarters. They hadn’t gotten halfway back before his door popped open and he darted into the hallway. 

“Is everything okay? I heard a yelp,” Bryce asked Swinger, instead of her.

“Fine. I think your girl got lost, though.” Kaelyn relaxed when she realized he was chuckling, not seething at her mistake. “She busted in on Roman, Carver and me having some fun. Scoring the room next to a bathroom has its good points and its bad points.”

“I’m
so
sorry…” she started again.

He waved her off. “We should have locked the door. It’s not exactly a habit around here, though.”

Bryce cleared his throat and Holden quit talking. What was he hiding now?

“Well. Here you go.” Swinger nudged her lower back, sending her toward Bryce. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna get back to…well, you know.”

Kaelyn blushed, but Bryce only nodded.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to stay and help explain?” Holden winked, or at least she thought he did in the shadowy light.

“Get out of here.” A growl from Bryce surprised her. “I can handle this myself.”

“If you change your mind…” Swinger turned serious. “Honestly, I mean that. If you could use someone more impartial or just some back up…maybe one of the girls? I could send Sally over in a bit? Or come back to check on you when I’m thinking straight? Have blood flow circulating to the big brain again.”

“Thanks.” Bryce’s broad hands wrung together before he cupped her elbow and turned her toward his room. “We’ll manage.”

“For the record, babe, you’re fucking adorable when you’re embarrassed. And
curious
.” Whether he added that last part for her or for Bryce’s benefit, she couldn’t say. He kissed her cheek before darting toward the two guys she’d interrupted. How he jogged with that tent pole in his pants, she had no idea. But he must have wanted to rejoin his buddies pretty badly to endure the discomfort of it bobbing as he ran.

“Well…
that
wasn’t how I planned this discussion to go.” Bryce tossed her a wry grin then ushered her into his room and closed the door softly behind her. “Honestly, I’d only started worrying about how to bring it up. You kind of saved me some trouble, I think.”

On the bed, a laptop sat open and voices jumped out at them. “Yo, Rebel! Everything okay? Where the hell did you go? Who screamed?”

“Ah, shit.” Bryce hopped onto the bed, tugging her along with him by their linked fingers. “Sorry. We had a...uh…logistical problem.”

“Who are you talking to?” Despite Kaelyn’s swirling thoughts and the arousal humming through her, she couldn’t help but peek onto the screen where a smattering of men and women peered back at her, equally as inquisitive. She hadn’t been gone more than a few minutes. Flowers sat in mason jars on either nightstand and the lights had been doused except for the soft glow of a lamp. Music played in the background and there was a…
videochat
…going on Bryce’s laptop.

What the hell?

“Sorry, they called and I wanted to touch base quick. These are our friends. The Powertools gang I mentioned before. Meet Mike, Kate, Dave, Kayla, Morgan, Joe, Devon, Neil and James.”

“Wow. There are a lot of them too.” She tried to repeat their names in her mind a couple times. At least they didn’t have nicknames to keep track of on top of their real ones. Fortunately, she’d spent most of her life at fundraisers, memorizing countless face-name combos that could prove important to her father’s success.

The whole day had been a whirlwind, tugging her one way then another. Surprises lurked everywhere and she was starting to get overwhelmed. It was like the truth poured out of her unfiltered after so many bombshells.

“No kidding.” Bryce laughed. “Let’s just say they’ve been where Hot Rods are, and they’re helping us get our shit together. I thought I had a few minutes to check in with them and let them know about…well,
you
. And our history. My past. I finally feel like I’m not lying to my friends anymore. It feels amazing to get rid of that burden. I hadn’t realized how much it still weighed on me.”

Kaelyn couldn’t stop herself. She laid a hand on his cheek and wished she could erase some of the tension darkening his gorgeous eyes. Surprisingly, her light touch seemed to have some effect. He leaned into her palm and nuzzled it.

“Worry about you, not us,” the guy she was pretty sure was named Joe counseled Bryce. “We’re not going anywhere. You can call us back later. Or tomorrow, or whenever. After things have settled down. We’ll still be right here. But, for the record, I already like what I see.”

“Remember, Rebel,” Devon, the smallest woman onscreen piped up. “The truth is always your best option. Take this opportunity. I can tell it’s going to be okay. You can do this.”