by Snow, Nicole
As for Elle, she'd fought her own battles, shit I didn't even know about. Had we both lost, being sucked right back into the worlds we'd clawed our way out of?
No. No fucking way.
I wouldn't allow it. I climbed on my bike and let the engine roar, riding hard toward the gate. Those bars peeling open exposed the road to a whole new world, hard and promising as anything I'd ever seen.
This job wasn't gonna be easy. Shit, marriage wasn't by definition, especially when I'd shacked up with an old almost-flame who still hated my ass.
Let her fucking hate. Let her moan. Let her do everything in her power to push me away and curse the ground she walked on for this miserable fate.
I couldn't scrape the black, hateful tar outta her heart, but I could damn sure set us both free. And by the time I got through with those sorry sonsofbitches in Tacoma, I'd hear my Ell-Bell ring like brass clanging up in a church steeple.
* * * *
“Holy shit. What're you doing here? Get off me, Asphalt. Get. Off!”
She elbowed me hard in the gut. I groaned awake, rubbed my eyes, and flopped over on the bed. I'd gotten in late, after I'd sucked down another beer in the lodge parking lot. Found her sleeping like the dead.
The girl dropped off without a blanket. I'd tucked her in like a little girl, threw my arm around her, covering her with my heat.
So much for a thanks. I shot her the dirtiest look as I put my hands back where they belonged, wrapped around her waist, and pulled her tight. She stiffened up like a goddamned cat about to be thrown in water.
“I'm keeping you warm like a good husband should,” I growled. “What time is it?”
“Huh?” She reached for her phone on the nightstand. “Ugh. Seven o'clock. Too early to wake up like this.”
“Then shut it and go back to sleep, Elle Jo. You're gonna need your beauty rest. We've got a long ride ahead.”
“Ride?” She turned toward me, the anger lining her face smoothing to that sweet innocence my cock ached to corrupt like nobody's business. “We're supposed to stay here for two more days. I don't know what you're –“
I reached up and pushed my hand across her mouth. She struggled, only relaxing when I held her down and whispered in her ear.
“Things change. You're pissed off and unhappy with the whole situation, I get it. I'm not fucking stupid. Only thing you'll hate more than having me by your side is all the other brothers here in Redding, keeping you under lock and key. So, I'm taking your ass back home, where we can calm the hell down and play house.”
Her eyes widened. I stared into those baby blues and twisted away from her, all I could do to stop my dick from pressing into her thigh.
“I know you're a smart girl, Ell-Bell. We're both perfectly able to stuff the rage for a few shitty weeks and play pretend. That's what I'm offering. I'm about to give you the whole damned world, babe, and I just need you to close your pretty lips, roll the fuck over, and get some shut eye.” I pressed my face to hers, so close she could feel the stubble on my cheek against it.
“That's all this is. Theater. Pretend. I'm gonna act like the best old man a lady ever hoped for. I'll help you on my bike, pull out chairs for you, and share a bed without ripping off everything clinging to your body and claiming that hot little puss like I should. Hell, I'll even pretend I like your old man instead of wanting to drive smoking lead in his brain. It's not hard. It's pretty fucking simple. And we can get right to it as soon as we're rested for the road and ready to make this shit work. Okay?”
There wasn't much response for ten long seconds. She just stared at me, her eyes two vast oceans, studying mine to figure out what kinda game I'd decided to play now.
Finally, she nodded. Perfect.
Loosening my grip, I let her breathe freely again and rolled away, giving her an inch of sorely needed space. I never took my arm off her waist, just held in place without moving between her legs or across her ass, fighting the wild urge.
Elle turned away from me, without making any effort to throw me off. For now, she'd been tamed. Pacified. And maybe, just fucking maybe, she'd started to trust me.
We slept like two kids who'd fallen down after screaming and chasing each other all day.
V: Baby Steps (Elle Jo)
Drifting in and out of sleep shouldn't have been so easy. I shouldn't have let him take over, shouldn't have let him keep my hips against his, shouldn't have surrendered to the powerful arms with the black, murderous ink wrapped so possessively around me.
But I did, and I slept better than I had all week, ever since I'd found out I needed to play bride to keep daddy's schemes from falling apart and putting us all in danger.
The danger wasn't even close to gone. I'd found a second of peace with my fake husband, sure, but soon we'd both be caught between two Grizzlies charters at each other's throats. Plus I'd be carted off to play interpreter whenever daddy decided to meet the Chinese, a negotiation promising tension.
I reached for my phone and checked it, careful not to disturb the biker holding me. Eleven o'clock now. Four hours slipped by in a haze, dreams and manly heat that temporarily carried me away from the hellish joke called my life.
Holding my breath, I rolled to face him. I watched Asphalt as he slept, feeling his big chest rising and falling against me.
I wondered why I'd lost the desire to pull his switchblade out of his belt and cut his throat in his sleep. No, of course I'd never do it – I wasn't a violent girl. My father's obsession with shielding me from MC blood had paid off over the years, except I'd grown up scared of having to fight for my life.
But in this case, I should've wanted to. I thought I'd be ready to do anything to have him off me and be free from this mess, this outlaw freak who'd had his name tattooed into my flesh.
That wasn't how I felt just now. God, no.
My heart beat a little faster as my eyes traced his strong jaw, stopping at his lips. I remembered their heat against mine, the fire in his kiss. The way he kissed me during the wedding brought me to my knees, awed that he'd lost none of the shock and awe from that first night four years ago, before either of us dreamed about being prisoners to each other.
We'd wanted passion then. If my father hadn't nearly killed him that night, I probably would've led him into our house, up to my room, and straight between my legs.
Gnawing my bottom lip, I reached out, gingerly running my fingers across the lightning bolt on his temple. I shared the same dark ink on my shoulders, symbols that were quintessentially Asphalt.
Jesus. Why the hell did I feel so connected to a man I was supposed to hate?
All this outlaw crap had gone to my head, obviously. That didn't stop my hands from brushing up above the lightning as he slept, across a small knife scar just above his temple, and then circling his smooth scalp.
He'd kept his head shaved all these years. I vaguely remembered the thick, sandy hair of the boy I'd grown up with down the street, back when both his parents still lived there, and he hadn't so much as wrapped his hands around a motorcycle's bars.
The hair went when he joined the MC as a prospect. All the older girls at school told stories about how incredibly smooth his face felt between their thighs, all the wicked, marvelous things he could do with his tongue...
I chewed my lip harder. My other hand slipped down between the soft sheets, down below my belly, tentatively dipping into my panties to check for what I feared most.
Yep. It was there, a molten wetness gliding across my fingertips like somebody had cast a spell and given form to desire.
I shuddered, resisting the urge to play with my clit. I wanted to believe the urge to fuck him was as dead as the sheltered, naïve girl who'd left Tacoma years ago.
I'd tried to leave her behind with the town. But I was going back for the third time, wasn't I? Back to the life I'd tried to ditch, chained to a man I'd told myself would never fit into the stable fabric of my life I'd tried too damned hard to hold together, before the club's stupid politics
ripped it to tatters.
Everything came apart.
Elle Jo the budding businesswoman.
Elle the independent woman, who told herself she'd never be up close and personal with a man wearing the bear patch ever again.
Elle, the idiot, who thought she could walk away from this life, when I'd seen what it did to my parents and every brother who was ever a guest in our home.
My world cracked apart a little more with every second ticking by. And for some ludicrous reason, it didn't kill me.
I closed my eyes and pressed my face into the pillow, enjoying his heat, his rock hard body so close to mine.
If he wanted to play pretend, fine. We could do it here in this bed just the same.
I could pretend to be his, if only in my own mind, so I didn't actually show him and die from the embarrassment. I let my fingers wander, closer to my aching pussy, the pussy I'd once quietly promised him in a kiss on prom night.
My lips parted in a soft, instinctive moan I couldn't control when my thumb grazed my clit. Eyes shuddering, I let myself rub deeper, drawing little circles that were nothing against what his big, strong hands could do.
I opened my eyes to look on his masculine glory while I touched myself.
My heart stopped. His eyes were open. Bright, green, and predatory, watching me so close to fucking myself.
“Oh!” I made a little sound and ripped my hand away.
“What the fuck, babe?” He grinned, his handsome lips curling up in a smile that ended my world. “Are you seriously jilling off after giving me all that shit about how you'd never want this?”
His hips moved. I tensed when I felt his hard cock roll against my thigh.
Raging, pulsing, ready to fuck me in two, promising an explosive release from this suffocating tension...
“Ew, no!” I jumped out of bed, splaying my hands over my lap.
I ran to the bathroom as he laughed, hoping he wouldn't notice the burning suns my cheeks had become. I'd never been so red in my life.
So much for playing pretend.
* * * *
It took forever to come out and face him again. I had the longest shower of my life. Cold because I needed so badly to ice down the lava in my veins left by shame and lust.
“Let's get some breakfast before we check out and hit the road. Fuck, black coffee and bagels never sounded so good.” He was standing by the door when I walked out, a fresh change of clothes on, the same powerful arms that held me the night before now folded across his barrel chest.
“Asphalt, I don't know what you thought you saw this morning, but...”
“Already forgotten, babe.” The bastard silenced me with a swift hand through the air. “I told you, everything we've got going on between us is a fucking illusion. You go ahead and act like you weren't strumming your sweet pussy because I turned you on so bad. I'll pretend I never saw it. Mostly, I'm just really fucking hungry right now, and if you don't wanna move, then I'm heading down for breakfast without you.”
He grabbed the door.
“Okay, okay!” I chirped, throwing back my half-dried hair and following him.
His words were strangely comforting. I didn't completely believe that we'd forgotten anything as we headed down to the lodge's small rustic eatery, but food was a good distraction.
We ate in silence, or close enough, making small talk about the forecast and the surprise trip to Tacoma.
“I hope we make it before nightfall. We're getting such a late start, and I still have to pack all our things.”
“You worry too much, Ell-Bell.” He shook his head, swallowing his last bite of bagel and cream cheese. He'd inhaled it after demolishing a plate of eggs and bacon stacked high. “I see some shit never changes. Don't worry about bringing anything besides your clothes and toothbrush. I'll leave all the wedding shit with the staff and a prospect'll be by later to pick it up.”
“So, that means your brothers are okay with us heading up to Washington alone?”
He'd just raised his coffee to his lips and stopped in mid-sip. Slowly, he put the mug down, narrowing those brilliant green eyes on me like search lights.
“The club knows I can handle their shit, the same way I know how to handle my woman. They won't care. This sham marriage is just a damned olive branch. Long as we're together, safe and plastering on our best fake smiles, nothing else matters.”
“Uh, okay.” I rolled my eyes.
The pretend theme started to wear on me. He leaned back, stretched, and cocked his head.
“What?” I said finally, waiting for him to deliver whatever smartass remark he had written on his face, waiting to come out.
“Just remembering how cute you can be when you let that feisty attitude go to your head, princess. It's like I said – some things never change.”
I glared. Much as I didn't want to admit it, the bastard was right. Some things never did.
* * * *
We rode so hard and long everything below my waist went numb. I'd had some long trips with daddy growing up, back before the MC had to fear for its life, but I hadn't been on a motorcycle for more than four hours in just as many years, probably more.
Five hours put us deep into Oregon, close to Eugene and our halfway mark. We stopped for gas.
I walked away from the bike, desperate to stretch my legs, watching him do the same as he pulled out a cigarette and stuffed it into his mouth. I wrinkled my nose.
Being around men who puffed like chimneys hadn't made it seem like any less of a bad habit in all these years. I kept my distance, staring off at the mountains and trying to enjoy the fresh cedar air sweeping in from the state's pristine forests.
The perfectly crisp air curdled all the more easily when he came close, blowing a long jet of smoke over his shoulder.
“Do you really have to ruin this with your smoke signals? You could talk to me like a normal human being, Asphalt.”
He waited until he was right next to me. For a second, I feared he'd blow smoke right in my face like a total jackass. Then I'd kick him square in the balls.
Instead, he let the cigarette hit the pavement, before he brought his boot down on it. “You're lucky I wanna make this easy on you.”
“Whatever. I'm doing your health a favor. That crap is bad for you.”
He snorted. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, right? I haven't touched this shit for years 'til just recently. I gave it up shortly after I came to NorCal because I saw what it did to the older guys' lungs. Last thing I want is some motherfucker getting the jump on me just because I can't breathe right.”
“Sure, hubby. Whatever you say.” I gave him my biggest, fakest smile, and even batted my eyes.
That did it.
His face darkened. He grabbed me by the shoulders, jerked me close to him so fast I didn't know what happened until I was drowning in his angry green eyes.
“Listen, babe, there are times when that spitfire shit drives me wild. This isn't one of them. You can either turn the sass off, or there will be consequences. You're my old lady, my woman, and my wife. You owe me some respect. I don't give a shit how fake this thing is.”
My cheeks overheated for the second time that day. Maybe challenging him was just my way of venting, or maybe I'd lost my mind.
“Respect is earned, Austin. You're old enough to know that.”
He smiled, sharp as a knife. “You're right. And I'm gonna earn it by pulling your jeans to the ground and spanking the fuck outta you right here if you call me the wrong name again. No bullshit.”
My jaw dropped. My eyes fell with it, a crazy, submissive gesture I'd later regret when we were back on the bike, following the long road to SeaTac.
Regardless, my body language told him I'd gotten the message. He released his iron grip and I followed him to his bike, angrily fixing my helmet without saying a word. He stopped inside to pay for our fuel and picked up a few bottles of water for the road.
“Hands around my waist, babe,” he reminded me, just as he
started the engine. “Now.”
“You know, all these years, I thanked my lucky stars daddy didn't actually kill you that night we kissed,” I whispered in his ear, tucking my hands across his tight abs. “I wish I'd remembered what a huge bastard you can be.”
“Only when I gotta remind somebody how hard these balls can swing, babe. You put on your sweet old lady act, and they won't have to slap you again. I'll give you the same respect I did years ago, when I didn't mind taking a few bullets for you. Still don't, princess, in case you give a damn. This is all just peacekeeping shit, and we both know it. So let's forget the insults and act real peaceful-like.”
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, all I could do to avoid more trouble. His words surprised me, softening the fire in my blood more than I expected.
I shouldn't have mocked him about the shooting when we were kids, something that truly had twisted my stomach in knots in all the years I'd left him, wondering if he'd been permanently disfigured by a bad shoulder.
The bike kicked hard as we headed onto the highway. Soon, it wasn't a struggle to hold onto him, though I wished it were.
Clinging to this crude devil while we pierced the wind shouldn't have felt so horribly natural. Especially when it was just 'peacekeeping shit' like he said, without a prayer of ever becoming anything real.
* * * *
It was late by the time we finally got into town. We headed straight for daddy's place, after I insisted it was as good an option as any.
The club wouldn't be any happier if they learned we'd snuck into town under their noses. I wanted to give my father a head's up so he could tell the rest of his guys. Hopefully preventing any bloody noses or broken bones if they ran into Asphalt around town.
“Whatever, babe,” he grunted at a stoplight on the edge of town. “You'd better get your shit fast. I'm not staying a second longer in your old man's place than I really need to.”
“Oh?” I suppressed a smile. “Thought you were my old man now?”
Something possessed me to throw my arms around his neck. I breathed his scent deep, letting it flow into me, warm and strong and curiously soothing.
