by Lynn Burke
“He’s going to kill me,” I whispered, my voice breaking again, and my knees gave way.
The floor dropped beneath me, and I found myself crushed to a hard chest, the scent of soap and man wafting past my nose and lighting me up inside regardless of my fear. I melted against Austin’s muscles, into his hold, relaxing at the sense of safety his sheltering arms offered even though I told myself he wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t what I wanted or needed.
“Take her upstairs,” Bowie said, “so she can clean up, then take her back to the compound. We’ll come by in the morning.”
“But --”
“Now,” Bowie said, cutting off whatever Hannah thought to say.
Eyes clenched shut, I rested my cheek on Austin’s chest, enjoyed the heightened thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear as we moved down the hallway. Strength, an assured step, heat, and offered asylum. Austin carried me up a set of stairs and into one of the private rooms Hannah had told me were available for guests who wished to toss money toward a willing dancer.
The warmth inside me grew, and I cursed my body for its arousal. Now is not the fucking time, I told myself, frowning. My body didn’t care. Didn’t listen. I breathed the clean scent of Austin deeply into my lungs until I grew light-headed.
My pussy throbbed, my clit swelled with the need to be licked, flicked, or bitten, and I sucked my lower lip between my teeth to keep from moaning.
When my body had developed and I found out about sex, I’d become insatiable in my desire to try it all. I also got kicked out of my mom’s home a few years later when she caught me riding our married neighbor’s cock in our pool out back, only one day after doing the same with their teenage son.
Whore, she’d called me even though my older brother banged a different girl every weekend in his room and never got more than a severe look if caught.
Her fucking double standards and the need for more cock had sent me on a downward spiral of drinking and drugs. Landing a job at Jackson’s strip joint had cost me that blowjob, but the man took care of his girls. He didn’t force himself on us after the initial suggestion he knew a sure way for us to get hired. He didn’t demand we fuck his patrons. But he did suggest getting in good with D.C.’s elite fuckers -- the ones in suits and ties we took our clothes off for.
I made good money dancing for the horny bastards who controlled our country’s government and people. I also thought I’d hit the jackpot by banging Senator MacGillroy.
No more. No more jumping into every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s bed because why the fuck not? Now I knew I’d made stupid decisions aplenty -- and I was so done in making them.
Austin kicked the door shut behind us and strode into the attached tiny-ass bathroom. He set me on my feet without a word and moved back two steps, putting himself in the doorway. “I’ll wait for you out here.”
His deep voice shivered my skin, but he disappeared, shutting the bathroom door behind him before I could catch a glimpse of his face and attempt to read his expression.
I let my heavy-as-fuck bag thump on the floor and turned on the cold water full blast. Using paper towels, I wiped the mess off my face the best I could before studying my reflection in the small mirror above the sink. Exhaustion lined my face, and the red rimming my eyes didn’t help my overall appearance.
“Why the fuck do you even care?” I muttered to my image. “You’re all done with men and could care less if Austin thinks you’re hot.”
My body hadn’t gotten the memo, I knew, as I opened the door to find him standing beside the door, his arms crossed, muscled forearms bulging with veins and sinew.
Hannah had told me Austin enjoyed using his fists, and the thought of him in action, fighting to protect a woman he loved, one he’d been commanded to protect, rippled need through me.
God damn it. I sank onto the edge of the bed, dropping my purse to the floor beside me.
“How long have you been fucking the senator?”
I clenched my eyes shut at the anger in his voice. Did he want to call me a whore, too? “Two months.”
“He ever threaten you?”
“Not directly.” I heaved a breath and lifted my eyelids as the energy of the room shifted, and I realized Austin drew nearer to me. Holding my gaze, he sank to his knees in front of me. If I had ever wanted to taste a biker, he’d have been the one. I’d told Hannah as much, but seeing him this close, watching concern fill his intense stare, made me realize how easy it would have been -- before I gave up men -- to give into the desire he swirled inside me.
I cleared my throat, fingering the diamond bracelet around my wrist. “Without his wife, he’s nothing. He joked a few times that if she ever found out about us before he could divorce her, that there would be deadly consequences.”
His lips thinned, and I swore a dark energy radiated off him. “He told you he would divorce her for you?”
Feeling the fool, I nodded, my gaze dropping to his chest. He didn’t laugh. Didn’t mutter any snark about me being an idiot.
“Tell me what happened tonight,” he said instead. “Every word.”
Chapter Two
Austin
Cadence spoke nonstop for five minutes, filling me in on the end of her shift dancing down at Jackson’s to when she had managed to push past Brewer into our public club.
No fucking doubt about it -- the Goddamn senator hadn’t summoned her for anything good. “Where’s the cell he gave you?”
She grabbed her purse off the floor and rifled through it. Her hand shook as she held it toward me, the diamonds around her wrist vibrant in the light.
“What’d he text?” I asked rather than take it from her hand.
She swiped the screen, punched in an unlock code, and tapped twice. Her face paled as she read over the text. “He’s being blackmailed.”
“Fuck.” I took the cell from her and read the message myself.
You’re nothing more than a whore, a cock-hungry stripper. If you think you can blackmail me, you’re in for a big fucking surprise. Run and hide, you little cunt, but know that I’ll find you.
My jaw clenched. Fists ached to smash in his Goddamn face. “Did you do it?”
“Blackmail him?”
I lifted my focus to find her eyes once more welled, her lower lip trembling.
“No.” She shook her head, her voice a mere whisper. “I’m not that stupid.”
I barely held in a snort she might take the wrong way. There was nothing stupid about blackmail and extortion if you knew how to do it right. It’s what kept the Outlaws in the money.
“What am I going to do?” Cadence asked, her voice rising as though on the verge of panic. “He’ll hunt me down -- Thing One and Two will do whatever he says. I -- I’ll never --”
I cupped her cheek, and her words cut off with a gasp, her eyes widening. “Not going to happen,” I said, fighting to keep my focus on her eyes rather than her parted lips. “You’re under the Outlaws’ protection, which means no one can touch you -- not even a damn senator who has money and supposed power.”
Cadence blinked one tear free down her cheek, and I caught it with my thumb rather than my tongue like my instincts suggested.
“I -- I thought he loved me.” Her voice caught. “I’m an idiot for believing he’d actually leave his wife for me. Fuck, what was I thinking?” She clenched her eyes shut, her trembling lips causing my dick to swell and indent from the zipper of my leathers.
“I didn’t feel I loved him,” she continued as though needing to purge her soul, “but he was my ticket out of my shithole life, you know? A great fucking catch. Such an idiot.”
Ticket out of her shithole life.
The words knifed at my chest. Even though I told myself I wasn’t going to get involved with Cadence, it hurt knowing I would never be good enough for her. She would never be content with a grease monkey biker who liked to use his fists. Unrefined and a crook, I would never measure up to what she’d set her sights on.
“I’m taking you ba
ck to the compound,” I said, my voice gruff, my erection flagging.
“What’s the compound?” She sniffed and wiped her coat across her eyes.
“The Outlaws’ private club. There’s a few apartments on the second floor. You’ll be staying with me.” I stood before she could object and tossed the cell back into her bag. “Gunner made you my ward. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”
The thought of being personally responsible for a woman didn’t sit well with me -- and Gunner knew it, since he knew my past. In his head giving me another chance to prove myself might be a good idea, but I’d failed someone years earlier and vowed to never let another close who might get torn from my side.
My brothers and I needed to take care of Senator MacGillroy and his fucking goons before they became a problem. It was the only way to keep Cadence safe.
* * *
Cadence curled up on my truck’s passenger seat, eyes closed, forehead resting on the window as she toyed with her bracelet. Heat blasted through the cab, making my already too warm body even hotter. Still, she shivered, as though a deep-rooted freeze claimed her clear through to her toes, the sweet scent of her shampoo at odds with the fear continuing to ooze from her.
Couldn’t blame the girl for fucking a senator, especially the one who’d been between Cadence’s thighs. On the younger side compared to most senators, MacGillroy oozed class and charm with his suits and fucking perfect white teeth. Hell, if I’d been into dick, I’d have bent over his desk and begged him for it.
One of the Pledges followed behind us with Cadence’s car, and I watched the other headlights in my rearview, checking to make sure no one followed us. Cadence had claimed to have gotten to our strip club without being followed, and after scoping the area around our strip club real well before taking off, I believed her.
“We’re here,” I said, hitting a button on my visor to open the gate leading into the compound.
Cadence stirred and glanced around, hugging herself once more. “Is the whole place fenced in?”
“Yeah. Got cameras everywhere, too.” I drove around back of the main building, parking in my assigned spot -- out of sight of the main road and the garage I’d told the pledge to take Cadence’s car to.
I motioned her up the outside stairs leading to the apartments, enjoying the view of her swaying ass mere feet from my face to the point I went light-headed from all the blood rushing to my groin. What I wouldn’t have given to bury my face between those cheeks, lick her asshole, and shove my tongue in to taste her musk.
I fumbled with my damn key on the landing, my dick so fucking hard I knew I needed to either fuck the woman or blow my load in the shower before I’d be able to sleep.
She followed me back the hall, muted music from the main lounge below barely filtering through the soundproofed floor. My apartment lay at the end of the hallway, overlooking the front and eastern side of the compound.
“Come on in.”
Cadence stepped past me as I flicked the lights on, illuminating the small studio I lived in. As the club’s Sergeant at Arms, I got perks, the main being the close proximity, free place to crash.
It wasn’t much -- queen bed, couch and TV, kitchenette, and bathroom, but I didn’t need more than the basics. “Not much,” I said, tossing my keys onto the table, “but it’s safe.” I held out my hand, and Cadence shrugged her coat off, still clasping her purse in her hands.
“Thank you for this,” she said, glancing up at me with eyes still troubled and wet. “I -- I don’t want to put you out.”
“Not a problem.” I hung her coat in my lone closet as she stood unmoving by the door. “Want a drink?”
Lips pursed, she shook her head.
“Shower?”
She glanced at the open door leading into my bathroom. “I don’t have any clothes.”
“I can find you something,” I said, pulling open a cabinet and grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “Towels are under the sink.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and I took a long pull from the bottle, the burn sliding down my throat with enough tingle my mind wandered away from Cadence peeling her clothes off in my damn bathroom.
I adjusted my aching cock and sat on the couch, my stare on the bathroom door. She wasn’t leaving the compound -- my Goddamn room -- until I erased the threat. Liking the woman who had haunted my dreams wasn’t optional -- it had already happened, and the longer I breathed her in, studied her pale skin, the way light glinted off the gold strands of her hair…
“Fucking hell.” I tipped the bottle back again, trying to chug the need to fuck out of my damn brain.
* * *
Cadence
The scent of his soap I held to my nose turned me the fuck on, and I grumbled a few curses while lathering up, careful to keep my clipped-up hair out of the spray.
Just a quick fuck, the devil on my shoulder whispered.
Give the man a wide berth, the other voice countered.
“No more mistakes,” I whispered to them both, refusing to ease the ache between my thighs even with the scent of Austin overwhelming me.
I shut the water off, climbed from his shower, and dried off, eyeing the clothing I’d taken off. I hated wearing anything to bed with a passion. Constricting, wadding and strangling if I moved too much… He said he’d find me something.
Towel wrapped tight across my chest, I opened the door enough to peek my head out.
Austin sat on the couch directly in front of me, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Do you, uh…” I glanced at his bureau. “Clothes?”
He stood without a word and pulled one from a drawer. Hunger dominated his eyes, and not the kind relieved by a juicy steak.
“Thanks,” I squeaked as he handed me a black T-shirt.
I quickly shut the door, pulled his T-shirt on which fell almost to my knees, and groaned at the lingering scent of him on the cotton. I yanked the clip from my hair, spilling tresses down over my back and chest. I made sure to check in the mirror that they were long enough to hide my tight nipples.
I pulled the door open and squeaked again to find Austin unmoved on the other side. “Sorry.” I sidestepped around him, intent on the couch.
“Take the bed,” he said, and closed himself in the bathroom -- with the bottle of whiskey.
Eyeing his bed, I chewed on the inside of my lip. I glanced at the couch he’d vacated. It wasn’t nearly long or wide enough for his height and bulk.
“Shit.” I heaved a sigh and crawled under his comforter, burying my face in one of the two pillows. Perfume à lá Austin flared heat up through my body, and I closed my eyes as the devil on my shoulder insisted scratching an itch never hurt anyone.
“The fuck it didn’t,” I muttered, punching the feather pillow and curling up on the bed’s edge, facing away from the bathroom door.
The shower turned on, and I imagined Austin using that bar of soap I’d had all over my body running down the bumps and valleys of muscle lining his. Did he grow hard while washing his cock? His balls?
I bit the inside of my lip, determined to keep my hands beneath his pillow.
Did he stroke his length, head tipped back, while thinking about me in his bed? I knew he wanted me -- the sexual tension between us could have electrified the entire compound for a damn week.
A low groan snapped my eyelids open, and I held my breath, ears straining.
“Fuck.” The low, drawn-out curse coming from the bathroom pebbled my skin.
Did I imagine the fisting slaps of a hand wrapped around a cock? Did my ears deceive, allowing me to think one final muffled grunt shot cum from the swollen head of his dick?
“Damnit.” I growled, my entire body like a live wire, ready to burn down my fucking life.
The water shut off, and again, I held my breath, ears ringing for sounds of his movement. Water ran again, and I realized I hadn’t brushed my teeth -- not that I had a spare toothbrush in my bag anyway.
A quick exhale into my cuppe
d hand revealed I wouldn’t knock out a dragon, but still.
What did I care? I grumbled a bit more in my head, but the opening of the bathroom door stalled all thought.
Austin moved into the room, and I listened as he opened a cabinet and shut it. Unable to help myself, I shifted onto my back.
A towel slung low around his hips.
Goddamn, the muscles…
My mouth flooded with drool, and I bit back a moan as he turned. Rippled abs snagged my focus. The sexy as fuck V of muscle disappearing beneath the towel turned my mouth’s drool factory on maximum.
“Just going to grab my pillow,” he muttered, moving toward the bed, his low voice pebbling my skin again.
“There’s plenty of room in the bed,” I heard myself say, hating the breathless tone that escaped -- and how the final word cut short on a squeak as I lifted my gaze to his face.
Quiet rang in my ears for a few heartbeats as we stared at one another, heat licking over my skin, flushing me from head to toe. The promise in his eyes of more than a mere fuck, in and out, thank you darlin’, sent a shudder through me.
Austin wouldn’t be kind or gentle in the sack. He seemed the type that would tie a girl up, use her to satisfy his every whim, and leave her a spent and smiling from exhaustion. My mouth dried, nipples pebbled to painful points.
“Couch is kind of small,” he said, tearing his gaze away first, his brow furrowing.
I tried to swallow the dryness from my throat as the tension simmering between us intensified, crackling with energy enough the hairs on my arms rose.
“You’re very alert and cautious,” I said, desperate to get my mind off fucking and how good every inch of him would feel pressing me down into his mattress.
He grunted in agreement, hands fisting at his sides, but didn’t move otherwise.
I remembered how his gaze had scanned the strip joint’s parking lot before we’d left, the glimpses he’d tossed from mirror to mirror as the miles had faded behind us, until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer and had ended up with my head against his truck’s passenger window.
