Original Cin: A Raptors MC Novel

by Elle Rease

  “Is he...?” She trailed off, feeling like a failure for having to find this out from him, of all people. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah, his condition is stable.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Late last night.”

  Her heart softened. “So, you just got on your bike and rode over here?”

  “Would lover boy have waited until morning?”

  “Brennan—”

  “Shut up, Cinnia.” His gaze went Arctic. Finally, his true colors were showing. “It’s time for you to come home. You’ve had your fun out here, but this isn’t where you belong.”

  She jutted her chin out defiantly. “It’s exactly where I belong.”

  “You will come with me, if I have to tie you to the back of my Harley and listen to you screaming all the way home. This is non-negotiable.”

  “You’re not the boss of me!”

  “Yes, I am, and you know it.”

  She burst out laughing. “You mean that stupid pact we made when we were kids? Yeah, sure, I thought I was in love with you, right up to the time when you could’ve had me but decided to take Dawn instead!”

  “You were fifteen, Cinnia!”

  “So was she!”

  “Yes, but she wasn’t mine!”

  Her laughter was frenzied and fake; there was nothing natural about it. “So, let me get this straight. You fuck someone who isn’t yours, and leave your ‘property’ to sit on the shelf?”

  “It’s respectable to at least wait until you’re legal, don’t you think?”

  There was some logic to that answer, but it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “To me, it just sounds like you didn’t want to commit,” she grumbled. “Why settle for one if you can have them all? Then you make up some excuse to justify your actions, maybe by saying I’m not as easy as the rest, and fuck everyone except me.”

  “Jealous, Cin?”

  YES!

  She quickly gagged that little voice. “I dodged a bullet, so I should really thank you.”

  “You’re pissing me off, Cinnia,” he warned, fists clenching. “You shouldn’t have opened that can of worms, ‘cause I still can’t believe you gave that... that sad excuse for a man your virginity!”

  She gasped, taken aback. “How the hell do you even know that?”

  “I was waiting for you back home.” There was a haunted glimmer in his icy gaze. “You had no right to do what you did.”

  “I had no right? Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “I’m the only man allowed to touch you.” He rounded the desk in the blink of an eye, pushing her against it. He looked down at her. “I’m the one who belongs inside you. Only me, Cinnia Sloane, and you know it.”

  Her body came alive in a way that was exclusive to Brennan’s effect on her. She might have a boyfriend, but Harold was her safety net. He never got her this hot and bothered and, frankly, she always had to think about someone else—a man with Brennan’s features, at the very least—in order to feel ready for intercourse. That’s why they were already like an old married couple, only having sex about twice a month.

  She blamed her heavy workload and busy social calendar but, really, it had everything to do with Brennan Drummond. This Scottish biker had staked a claim to her when she’d been too young to have her period and, for some mystical reason, she had felt the connection as well. She hadn’t been curious about any of the other members of the club, or even the other boys in school.

  There was only him: they both knew it.

  He’s not even touching you! Cinnia thought dazedly. She blinked a few times, hoping to get rid of her arousal. She knew she was going to regret it later, but her brain wasn’t working properly at the moment.

  “Okay.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “Okay?”

  “Okay, I’ll come home,” she clarified.

  “It’s funny that you call it that, considering how you avoid it like the plague.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, that chilly gaze looking at her with such warmth, it was making her knees weak. “How long will you stay?”

  It was like trying to speak when she had the Sahara Desert in her mouth. “Until he’s been given the all-clear.”

  Brennan banged a fist on the table, making her jump. “Dammit, Cinnia!”

  “I can’t just upend my—”

  “That’s exactly what you did when you came here!” He sneered, looking every bit as menacing as his tattoos and piercings were meant to make him appear. At least he had the attitude to back it up. “If you’re not going to stay with your family, don’t even bother coming back!”

  He might as well have slapped her. Sure, she hated him, but she didn’t want the favor returned. He was the one constant in her life: whenever she felt like things were going to shit, she soothed herself with the knowledge that he would always welcome her back. He couldn’t push her away, pretend as if he didn’t care about her at all! Unless...

  “Who is she?” she whispered, tears burning her eyes.

  “What’re you talking about?” he growled. He pinned her to the desk using his hips, placing his hands on the smooth surface behind her. “You better not be insinuating that I’ve got an old lady.”

  “Sure sounds that way. You want me home one minute, and then you couldn’t give a shit the next.”

  “That’s how ye treat me, lass. Sucks when ye reap what ye sow, ‘ey?”

  Shit, shit, shit! That Scottish accent was slipping through, yet she had no idea whether it was unintentional, or if he was doing it on purpose to soften her up. He surely must know the effect it had on her… “I just—”

  “How long must Ah take the abuse, Cinnia?” He dropped a soft kiss, so at odds with the rigid tension in his body, on the corner of her mouth. “Ye run away from me. Ye insult ma lifestyle. Ye date someone else and give him what’s mine. But, at the end of the day, ye won’t let me go. How does tha’ make sense?”

  “Why’d you do it?” she asked, letting every bit of hurt into her voice.

  “I told you back then, too. My answer hasn’t changed, Cin.” Brennan nudged her nose with his. “I’m six years older than you. I had needs. You might not want to understand or agree with my methods, but you grew up with this lifestyle. I wasn’t going to take you too soon. You’re too precious.”

  Great, she was agreeing with his logic. Old habits die hard. “But why Dawn?”

  “Because she was easy, like you said. Dawn means nothing.”

  “Brennan, she meant something to me! She was my best friend!” Those tears were slowly sliding down her cheeks. “I could’ve forgiven you if you’d taken some chit I didn’t give a shit about, but you went for her! And I had to hear every detail of—”

  “Wait.” Rage lit up his eyes but, for once, it wasn’t directed at her. “She told you?”

  “What did you expect? You used her, hurt her, so she told me!”

  He lifted his hands to wipe her cheeks dry and hold her face. “She wasn’t allowed to. I’m sorry, Cinnia,” he said earnestly. “Now I understand why you were so mad.”

  “Are,” she insisted, though she was fast losing steam.

  “Come back home,” he urged. “You can have all of me now, and I can have all of you. There’s nothing holding us back anymore.”

  “Except Harold.”

  “There’s nothing holding us back,” he repeated.

  “Brennan—”

  “What is it ye want, lass?” He stepped back and ran his fingers over his hair in frustration. “Do ye want tae be wooed, is tha’ it? Do ye want the romance, the flowers, the fuckin’ violins? Candle-lit dinners? What do ye want me tae do to prove tae ye tha’ ye’re ma old lady?” He glared at her angrily. “Please, tell me, ‘cause Ah haven’t a fuckin’ clue!”

  She honestly didn’t know what she wanted. All she knew for sure was that his hold on her wouldn’t let go, and that she would never forgive him if he moved on.

  He was so damn beautiful, what with all those tattoos and piercin
gs. She had this insatiable urge to trace every single line of ink with her tongue. His vest had parted when he’d thrown his hands in the air, giving her a glimpse of his newly adorned nipples. She wanted to tug on them with her teeth, to hear how he’d react.

  Harold wasn’t like this: he was mild-mannered, not passionate. He hated tattoos, barely tolerating the few she’s acquired over the past year. His virgin skin was too perfect, too tanned. It was probably a bias she’d developed as a child, given the neighborhood and people she’d grown up with, but she preferred scars, tattoos, muscles, piercings... Danger.

  And Scottish accents. Couldn’t forget about those.

  “You were much stronger when you were home,” he told her, a taunting glint in his eyes. “In fact, I’m pretty sure the Cinnia Sloane I know hates romance.”

  In the time it took her to blink, he had her crushed to his chest, his lips melting on hers. She opened her mouth in shock, giving him the perfect opportunity to thrust his tongue inside. Harold didn’t like kissing, often stating that it was unsanitary, so she was a bit out of practice.

  Trust Brennan to wipe her mind clear of everything except the way he felt in her arms, and the memories of what he liked when they kissed.

  Her arms went around his neck, and she rubbed her breasts on his chest. She could feel those studs in his nipples through the thin silk of her shirt and lacy bra. It was just as tantalizing as the sensation of his stubble on her skin.

  The piercing rubbing her tongue was making her cream her panties with fantasies of what else he could do with it. Her hunger for more, for pleasure, for him consumed her, turned her into the person she’d been years ago. She sucked on his tongue, bit his lips, gripped his hair in fists. She didn’t protest when he shoved her pencil skirt up so she could wrap her legs around his hips, grinding their crotches together like horny teenagers.

  She was wild.

  “Come home,” he groaned, the fingers of one hand going under her panties to cup her sex. She shivered, wanting those digits in her so badly, but his other hand held her firmly against the desk. “Ah won’t do it until ye say yes.”

  She punched his shoulder. “Fucking asshole!”

  He chuckled. “There’s the Cin Ah know an’ love.”

  “You better put those fingers in me or—”

  “Or what?” He flirted with her entrance, laughing as she gave a disappointed cry. “Are ye comin’ home?”

  She could worry about the consequences later. It wouldn’t be so bad… At least, not as torturing as having him so close and yet not inside her was. “Yes, I’ll come home, okay?”

  “For how long?” he persisted, going inside up to the first knuckle of his finger.

  Her manicured nails bit into his shoulders, but he didn’t seem to mind. “For however long you want me to! Brennan, please!”

  “Ye know exactly what Ah want to hear,” he approved. He sheathed a long finger in her and let out a sigh. “So wet an’ needy, hmm?” He withdrew, only to add another digit. “Ah could do this all day, Cin.”

  “Oh God,” she moaned, tilting her head up to kiss him again. His tongue mimicked the movements of his talented fingers, giving her exactly what she craved. She was so close to the unfamiliar edge of an orgasm that she could burst into tears. How long has it been since she’s felt such pleasure?

  Well, way back when she’d still been Brennan’s girlfriend and, even then, they’d never had intercourse.

  He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. That was enough to send her head spinning. She screamed as she came, clutching to him as tightly as she possibly could.

  “Shit, Cin, I think the whole floor heard that,” he whispered with a soft laugh.

  She panted, cherishing every ripple, every pulse. “I don’t care.”

  There was a tentative knock on the door, and then Nancy peeked inside. “Is everything okay?”

  Brennan turned Cinnia slightly to cover her modesty and cleared his throat to address the receptionist. “That was a happy scream, Nancy.”

  Cinnia was still riding a high, so she didn’t have the energy to punch him again.

  “Oh, right,” Nancy muttered. “Let me know if you need anything!”

  The door shut softly and Brennan packed up laughing. “You should’ve seen her face!”

  “I think she has a crush on you.”

  “What woman doesn’t?”

  She glared at him, even though she knew he was joking. “Me?”

  “That’s ‘cause you love me, lass,” he said, rolling his eyes. Gently—such a contrast to his mean exterior—he removed his fingers and, to her astonishment, licked them clean. “Fuck, I’d love to finish us both off right now, but we’ve got to go before you change your mind.”

  She was too focused on the fact that he, unlike Harold, didn’t mind her taste. More than that, it looked as if Brennan couldn’t get enough of it.

  He righted her underwear and helped her to her feet. “You should call your boyfriend and tell him you won’t see him again.”

  “Stop being so bossy,” she grumbled, pulling her skirt down.

  “For a woman who’s just had an orgasm, you sure are touchy.”

  “Shut up.”

  She lifted the receiver and dialled Harold’s number, waiting for the guilt that never came. How was it possible for her to feel so unfazed about cheating on someone? Was this how easy it had been for Brennan, way back when?

  Her gaze followed him out of her office, wondering where he was going.

  “Cinnia?”

  She coughed to hide her unease. “Hi, Harold,” she greeted politely. “I’m sorry to bug you at work.”

  “My client’s just left,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  “My dad had a heart attack, so I’m heading to my parents’.”

  “Shit, Cinnia! I’m so sorry to hear that. Should I meet you there?”

  “No, that’s okay.” She frowned at the bag that Brennan had brought back. He made himself comfortable on a chair, perching his feet on the desk. “I, uh, don’t know when I’ll be back...” She trailed off at the look of pure poison Brennan was giving her. “I just need to be alone with my family for a while.”

  “Cinnia—”

  “I’ve got to go, Harold. I’ll call you when I get there.” She hung up and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s this?” she asked, jutting her chin at the leather bag.

  “You can’t go home in that,” he responded. He lifted his top lip in a snarl at her conservative outfit. “Sure, you look amazing in anything, but it’s not what suits you best.”

  Just a little bit curious, she lifted the flap and peered inside. Her heart constricted at the sight. “My old riding clothes,” she murmured, taking her Raptors vest out. She ran a finger over the patches that identified her relation to the club. She glanced at him quizzically. “Why did you bring them?”

  “Leaving without you wasn’t an option, Cinnia.” His answering look was intense and purely Brennan. “Besides, how do you expect to get home?”

  “You don’t want me to change my mind,” she realized, fighting a smug smile.

  “My old man told me it’s better not to give a woman too many choices,” he grinned. “Get dressed so we can go.”

  “Uhm, then get out.”

  “Hell no.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. She was the first to break eye-contact, knowing that resistance was futile. She turned her back on him and stripped down to her underwear. Her leather pants still fit, oddly enough. Her favorite Def Leppard shirt sat more snugly, especially over her breasts. She left her vest unzipped, like his, before swiveling back to him.

  He whistled, appreciation in his eyes. “That’s much better, lass.”

  “Shut up,” she said, though she was glowing with pride. She rolled thick socks onto her feet and slipped them into the boots. She stuffed her working clothes, phone and wallet in the bag. Something occurred to her. “Shit, I’m not going to get leave at such late not
ice.”

  “You won’t be coming back.”

  “Brennan—”

  “No,” he interjected firmly. “You went to university, because you said you needed a break. You did very well and we’re all proud of you. There will be work for you back home, Cinnia, but I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

  “Clingy much?”

  “Only for you, lass.”

  She was smart enough to know when she was defeated. “Give me a second to type up a letter of resignation, at least,” she muttered, taking a seat.

  “That I can do.” He rose to his feet and grabbed the bag. “I’ll go wait in reception. Nancy seems friendly.”

  Her temper flared. “If you flirt with her—”

  “I don’t flirt with other women, Cin.” He headed for the door and glanced over his shoulder. “We’re going to talk about your tattoos later.”

  She held her breath as he exited the room. What was she in trouble for this time?

  Chapter Two

  She raised her hand to knock on her boss’ door, the resignation letter heavy in her grasp. She was about to say goodbye to the last two years, just because she’d had an orgasm. What the hell was the matter with her?

  “Come on in!”

  Taking deep breaths, she entered Joss’ office and shut the door quietly.

  “Cinnia!” Joss stared, open-mouthed. “What on earth are you wearing?”

  “Riding clothes,” she replied sheepishly. “I, uh, am leaving.” She placed the piece of paper on the desk between them. “My dad’s in bad shape and I’m needed at home. I don’t know how long it’ll take, and I know it’s too late to apply for leave.”

  Joss read the brief paragraph, stunned. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “I know, neither was I.”

  “Does this have anything to do with that scream?”

  Cinnia went beet red. Great, she must think I’m a slut. “A bit,” she admitted. “I’ve been told that there’s a job waiting for me if I want it. I’m really sorry about this, but I have to go help out around home.”

  “I understand that. I just thought you were happy here.”