What was wrong with him? It was like he’d flipped a switch, going from gentle to cold and mean in a matter of seconds. She didn’t want him like this. She wanted him passionate and loving.
He strode toward the bed, forcing her to walk backward until her legs hit the mattress. “No.” She shoved against his chest. “I don’t want you anymore, you asshole. Let me go.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “I still want you, remember? I told you so in the note. You want me too. Admit it. You want me inside you so bad you ache.”
She gasped at his crudeness. He had no idea how close he was to the truth. She did want him. But not like this. She lifted an arm to slap him. Then paused.
She’d never struck a man before. But she itched to do so now. Damn him. What had come over him? What the hell was going on?
His lip curled as he bared his teeth. “You like violence, Karen? You want to hit me? Go ahead. See what will happen if you do.”
Her heart thundered. Now he was starting to scare her. What had happened? What had made him change so suddenly?
They glared at each other. The silence stretched, the only sound that of their beating hearts.
“What happened to you?” she whispered, unable to stop the single tear that trickled down her cheek. “I thought you…cared.”
He stared at the tear for a long moment. But a mask had come over his face, hiding his emotions. Assuming he really had emotions. What the hell?
“The only thing I care about is getting laid.”
* * *
Karen’s heart twisted. What was wrong with him?
Stoner pushed her backwards onto the bed. She scrambled away from him, but he was fast. He landed on the mattress with her, grabbing her hands and holding them above her head. Karen squirmed as he straddled her hips, his heavy weight resting on top of her.
“You bastard! Let me go!” She bucked against him.
He stretched his naked body out on top of hers, smashing her into the mattress. He nuzzled his way up her neck to her earlobe. She shivered, unable to deny the frisson of desire that rocked through her. Damn her traitorous body for still wanting him.
“Calm down,” he whispered, his voice so shockingly soft she froze. “There’s a camera in here. I just noticed it. Viper must have put it in after you left last night. He’s recording our every move.”
What? A camera? Karen sucked in a breath. Now Stoner’s strange behavior made sense. If Viper was spying on them, Stoner would need to act tough, mean, not kind and caring. She searched his gaze. Was he telling the truth? Had he been acting a moment ago, pretending to be an ass?
She swallowed hard. “Does…does it have audio?”
“I’m guessing yes.” He lowered his head to trail kisses across her collarbone and up to her other ear. “We have to make this believable,” he whispered. “I want you to fight me some more, act like you don’t want it.”
Karen drew in a shaky breath. “Stop it, you asshole! Let me go!” She squirmed beneath his heavy weight, trying to put on a good performance. He let up just enough to allow her to breathe.
“That’s good,” he whispered. “Very convincing. Viper wants to see me controlling you, making you submissive. Can you pretend to do that? Fight me some more. Let’s make it convincing.”
Her heart pounded. She was scared. And repulsed by Viper’s lecherous, chauvinistic ways. “I don’t want him to see.”
“He won’t.” Stoner nibbled her earlobe. “We’ll get under the covers.”
“I can’t do it. Not if he’s watching. Not like this.”
“Fight me. Just play along.” He released one of her hands.
Karen smacked him in the shoulder, on the arm, in the ribs. “Let me go, you bastard!”
He let her pummel him for a few seconds, then grabbed her arm, holding it above her head.
Karen felt the evidence of his arousal swelling against her thigh. Despite the situation, an answering need spiraled through her. She arched up against his groin.
Stoner let out a soft growl. He lowered his head and kissed her.
And she forgot all about the camera, about the fact Viper could be recording them.
Stoner released her hands as he gently licked along her lips, his tongue seeking entrance. Karen moaned and opened for him, her tongue eagerly mating with his. Heat swept through her, spiraling downward, settling into her core. He wasn’t pretending anymore. And neither was she. This was real.
She tangled her hands in his shaggy hair as she kissed him back. “Neal,” she said breathlessly. “Take me…to the shower. Please. Make love to me where Viper won’t see.”
He paused, his gaze seeking hers. He slid off the bed. He scooped her up and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he slammed the door behind them. Setting her down, he lifted a finger to his lips. Glancing around, he scanned the room for cameras. Apparently finding none, he turned back to her.
“I don’t see any cameras in here. But we will have to be quiet so the audio out there doesn’t pick us up.”
They stared at each other, not moving, not speaking. She wanted to ask him what was going on, why Viper would install a camera in his room. Why didn’t Viper trust him? What had he done? Was it because he’d killed Rage?
But they didn’t have any privacy here.
“Why?”
He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head.
“Not here. Too risky.”
She nodded. “So…you didn’t mean all those horrible things you said in there? You were just pretending?”
He gave a quick nod. Stoner strode to the tub and turned the water on. He came back to her. “I’m taking a shower. You can join me if you want. If you don’t want to, then stay in here until I get out so they’ll think we’re having sex in the shower.”
He stepped into the tub and yanked the shower curtain closed. She hesitated. God knew she wanted to join him. Badly. Should she? Would he welcome her? Would he be repulsed when he saw her scarred chest again? He’d only gotten a brief glimpse before, since her bra had hung off her shoulders, partially concealing her scars. If she joined him in the shower, he would see it all.
There was only one way to find out.
Bracing herself for his rejection, Karen stripped. Pulling the shower curtain aside, she stepped in with him. His back was to her as he scrubbed shampoo through his hair.
Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake, hoping he wouldn’t reject her, she pressed against him.
He jerked and swore softly. Karen tensed, waiting for his rejection. He washed the rest of the shampoo out of his hair and turned to face her, blinking the water from his eyes.
His gaze locked on hers. “I didn’t expect you to actually get in here with me.” His words were filled with wonder.
Karen reached for the shower sponge hanging on the rack. She lathered it with soap.
“Let me wash you.” She wanted—no needed—to touch him.
His gaze darkened. He swallowed hard. He didn’t speak.
She lifted the sponge and soaped his chest, his stomach, down between his legs, unable to resist stroking her fingers gently along his erection. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t move, standing still while she washed him.
Forcing herself to be patient, to not push this too fast, Karen bent and scrubbed his thighs, his calves, then rose. She turned him around and washed his back. He spun around and yanked the sponge from her grasp.
“My turn.”
Karen looked into his eyes. The tenderness she witnessed there was not what she expected. There was lust there too—plenty of lust—but it was the tenderness that took her by surprise.
He lathered up the sponge until it was thick with soap. He gently scrubbed her back, over her butt, down her thighs. Her breath hitched. He turned her to face him, then washed her arms, her shoulders. He paused, swallowing hard. Karen stared into his eyes, waiting for him to look down, to see what was left of her breasts—nothing but ugly scars.
He pressed the sponge into her hand. �
�You’d better do it,” he said thickly. “I don’t trust myself to touch you anymore. I might…do something I shouldn’t.”
Karen took the sponge from him and washed across her chest where her breasts had once been. He watched her every move, his eyes dark with desire. She glanced down at the huge erection still swelling between his legs. Her lack of breasts hadn’t turned him off, after all. Maybe he really didn’t care about her flat chest.
Grabbing his hand, she pressed the sponge back in his palm.
“I want you to do it.”
His hand shook as he took the sponge from her. Hesitantly, he washed her chest, her stomach, and down between her thighs. Pleasure coursed through her. Her breathing quickened. The sponge dropped to the shower floor. His fingers pressed into her, teasing, tormenting, arousing her. He bent his head, his mouth closing over hers. She titled her head back, her heart pounding wildly, as she opened for him, her tongue tangling with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched against his hand, forcing his fingers deeper.
He groaned, pulling his mouth from hers. He trailed kisses over her neck, across her scarred chest, down her stomach…
He went even lower, bending before her. She sucked in a breath.
“Neal,” she gasped out, her voice sounding strangled and breathless. “Oh God.”
His tongue flicked and teased, making her arch against him, making her legs tremble, making her whimper and moan. She grasped his head, digging her fingers into his scalp as rapture stole over her.
He jerked to his feet as the remnants of her orgasm slowly faded. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her and pressed her back against the shower wall.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he rasped against her mouth.
She did, flinging her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his shaggy hair, pulling him closer.
“Do you still doubt that I want you?” His gaze probed hers, his eyes dark and swirling with lust.
Karen swallowed hard. “No.”
His mouth claimed hers again, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers. He rocked her back against the wall, joining his body with hers. Karen moaned, arching closer, moving with him, losing herself in this big, sexy, badass biker.
As the warm water sprayed down on them, Stoner made her forget about the compound as he took her to another place, and showed her just how much he wanted her. He consumed her senses until all she thought about was him and how wonderful—and sexy—he made her feel.
For the first time in over three years, Karen felt like a desirable woman again.
For the first time in years, she felt truly wanted.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Stoner’s an imposter.”
Viper slammed his fist onto the desktop. “Son-of-a-bitch!” Pain ricocheted through his knuckles, but he just gritted his teeth. He loved the pain. If he was able to feel pain, it meant he was still alive.
“Who the fuck is he?”
“That’s the part I can’t figure out,” Scorpion admitted. “Dude, he looks just like the real Neal Stone. It was no wonder he fooled you.”
Viper cast a glare at Scorpion, then paced back and forth across the room. “He didn’t fool me. I’d never met the guy before. How was I to know he was an imposter?”
Scorpion let out a nervous cackle. “Yeah. Of course you didn’t know. No one’s met the real Neal Stone before.”
Viper paused in his pacing. He stared Scorpion down. “So how did you figure out he was an imposter?”
“Well, there’s, um, this…” Scorpion pulled open the door. He motioned someone inside. Viper tensed. Unable to believe Scorpion had the gall the invite someone into his private office without his approval, he turned to slam Scorpion up against the wall, then halted in surprise. A man who looked almost exactly like Stoner entered the room.
“Holy shit!” Viper stared at a man who could be none other than the real Neal Stone. He jerked his gaze back to Scorpion. “How did you find him?”
After Viper had kicked Stoner out of his office yesterday, he’d interrogated Rebel and Scorpion about Rage’s death, but neither of them had a clue what had gone down. They’d slept through it all.
Viper had told Scorpion to figure out what Stoner was up to. Scorpion had texted him later that evening that he was on to something and that he’d let him know more when he got back to the compound.
So now here Scorpion was, not only telling him he had an imposter in his compound, but bringing the real Neal Stone back with him.
“I started asking around, you know, talking to other motorcycle clubs, to see if anyone knew anything about Neal Stone. After some digging, and some persuasion, I found out that there was a rumor going around that Neal Stone had disappeared about a month ago. But that wasn’t a surprise, because we thought he was here with us, right? Then one chic—she was pretty wasted—climbed up into my lap and whispered that she’d heard Neal Stone had been kidnapped. I asked her who had told her that, and she said, him, and pointed to this dude here.” Scorpion motioned to the man standing next to him, the man who could easily be Stoner’s twin.
Viper studied the stranger for a long moment. His stare didn’t intimate the other man, who stared back coldly. Viper nodded.
“So I suppose you’re claiming to be the real Neal Stone. Tell me what happened.”
He watched the other man closely while Neal Stone told a tale about getting home late one night, turning off his motorcycle, and someone coming up behind him and zapping him with a stun gun. He claimed he fell onto his driveway. Someone bound his hands and feet behind his back and tied a blindfold over his eyes. Then his abductors tossed him into the trunk of a car and drove for about an hour or so.
They dragged him out of the trunk, hauled him down a flight of stairs, shoved him into a small room with a concrete floor, and locked him in. He claimed there were at least two men, possibly three.
They kept him locked in that room, only opening the door long enough to slip him food and drink, then closing the door again, for over a month. Until one day when they came to feed him, he managed to escape by choking out the guy who brought him food and lunging up the stairs and out the door.
That had been two days ago, he claimed. He’d been very cautious about leaving his house at first, in case his abductors returned. But when he’d heard Scorpion questioning people about him at the bar last night, he’d inched closer. Then he’d witnessed the shock on Scorpion’s face when Scorpion had seen him. At first he’d thought Scorpion might be one of his abductors. But then Scorpion leaned close to him and whispered, “Dude, you look exactly like a guy who says he’s Neal Stone.”
“So I came here to see the son-of-a-bitch who took on my identity. I want to know what the motherfucker is up to and why he had me kidnapped.”
“So do I.” Viper turned to Scorpion. “Find Stoner and bring him here. Now.”
Scorpion scurried from the room.
Viper turned back to the real Neal Stone.
“So.” He eyed the true marijuana king. “How do you think we should torture the imposter?”
* * *
“Stoner, open the door! Hurry!”
Someone pounded against the outer door.
Bang. Bang.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Fuck.” Breathing heavily, Stoner drew back. He had Karen crushed against the wall, their bodies still joined in the aftermath of incredible sex.
Karen’s gaze darted to his. “Don’t open the door.”
He lowered her to her feet. Her delicious body slid down his, making him wish he could ignore whoever was at the door. Making him wish he could stay in the shower and make love to her all day.
She clutched his shoulders. Her gaze searched his. “Please.”
He groaned softly. “I have to.” He didn’t want to leave her like this. But he had no choice. Reluctantly, he pulled away and shut the water off. Yanking the shower curtain open, he grabbed a towel and tossed it at her. He grabbed another towel from the rack and wra
pped it around his waist.
He marched for the door.
“Stoner!”
Her voice halted him as he reached the door.
“Please. Don’t open it. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“So do I.”
Stoner yanked open the door.
Rebel stood out in the hallway. His eyes wild, he glanced both ways down the hallway, then back at Stoner.
“They’re coming for you. They know the truth.”
Rebel turned and hustled down the hallway, disappearing down the stairs.
“Shit!” Stoner slammed the door. Racing across the room, he yanked open the dresser and dragged a clean pair of jeans up his legs. “Karen!” he shouted, marching across the room with a clean T-shirt in his hand. “Get dressed. Quickly. Things are about to get ugly around here. In a few minutes, I won’t be able to protect you anymore.”
She stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes wide. “What? Why?”
He yanked the shirt over his head. “Just do it, Karen. Now. They’ll be here in a few minutes. If you don’t want them to see you naked, I suggest you get some clothes on immediately.”
That worked. She raced to the duffle bag he’d brought up for her yesterday. He turned away while she dressed, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his wet hair back out of his face. He couldn’t hide for long and there was no way he’d escape the compound. He would just have to wait for them to come for him. There was nothing else he could do.
When he came out a few minutes later, Karen was dressed and pulling on a clean pair of socks.
“What’s happening?”
More pounding thundered against the door.
“Open the door Stoner. Or we’ll break it down! We know you’re in there!”
Karen’s frightened gaze flew to his.
“It’s all right. You had nothing to do with this. They’ve come for me, not you. Just…try to stay close to Rebel from here on out. He won’t hurt you. He’ll try to protect you if he can.”
He headed for the door. Glancing back at Karen, he stared into her worried brown eyes. Would this be the last time he ever saw her?
Stoned (Unlikely Heroes Book 4) Page 15
