Broken Rebel: A Lawless Kings Novel

by Sherilee Gray

  “Yeah.” I licked my dry lips.

  “You covered it?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Why?”

  “You ever heard of a purity ring?”

  He frowned.

  “Some people make the decision to hold off on having sex, you know, hold out for the right guy, husband . . . whatever . . . and they wear a gold ring. It’s a symbol of their commitment to stay pure for their future partner, and I guess so everyone knows that’s how they feel.”

  “Okay,” he said, voice gruff.

  “Well, what’s under the heart was kind of mine.” I forced myself to go on. “You remember Kimba?”

  “Your crazy-ass friend in high school?”

  “Yep, the very one.” That made me smile. “We were drinking, celebrating my birthday. She wanted to go out, find some guys to hook up with. She thought it was time to punch my V card.”

  His eyes darkened, nose flaring. He didn’t like that idea. Not one bit.

  I pushed on. “I didn’t agree. I convinced her to come with me to get new ink.” I motioned the heart he was still stroking, every swipe lifting goose bumps over my whole body. “It was the second tattoo I got.” Exactly a year after I got the Superman symbol representing Neco and what he meant to me. “My own version of a purity ring.”

  He frowned harder. “Why’d you cover it?”

  “A year after I got it, I realized I was wasting my time, my life, and decided to cover it and move on.”

  He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple sliding up and down his throat. “You were still a virgin?”

  “Yes.” My pulse started racing like crazy.

  The hand not touching me was curled in a fist, veins, tendons, and muscles bulging. “When did you lose it?”

  “Same night I got the heart.” I bit my lip. “Just some random guy, so I could get it over and done with.”

  Another swipe of his finger. “What was it?”

  “What was what?” I knew exactly what he was asking. I was stalling.

  “The ink.”

  “It was script.” My heart was going to beat out of my chest.

  “What did it say?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Neco.”

  His finger stilled, and his massive chest started pumping, nostrils flaring . . .

  Then he just . . . dropped to his knees, cursing rough and low. A second later, his lips were pressed against the small black heart as he gripped the sides of my thong and dragged them down my legs.

  He flung them aside and groaned. “Fuck, baby,” he said over and over, lips tenderly pressing against the spot he’d been touching, worshiping.

  “Neco . . .”

  He dragged me lower, spun me, so I was facing him, and threw my legs over his shoulders. My surprised squeal turned into a moan when he pressed his mouth against my bare, highly sensitive flesh, growling as he did.

  “Ahhh.” My hand dropped to the back of his head, hips lifting all on their own, seeking more, and he gave it to me. Neco devoured me, like a man starved. Licking and sucking, lapping at my tender flesh until I was squirming and moaning helplessly. My big plans to seduce had worked, obviously. I’d just skipped the part where I got information out of him. Shit.

  Then I couldn’t think anymore, didn’t really care, because he pushed a thick finger deep, seeking and finding my G-spot, sliding over it, again and again until I could barely breathe, my head full only of Neco and what he was doing to me.

  My orgasm slammed through me hard, and I jerked against his mouth, shaking as he lapped at me, until the last intense pulse moved through my body. Then, lowering my legs, he reached back and yanked off his shirt, fingers tearing open his jeans. I barely had time to blink before he was on the couch, pulling me into his lap. He positioned me so I straddled his hips, so his thick, hard cock pressed against my bare pussy, making me shiver and squirm. His hands cupped my ass immediately, lifting me, and I reached down, taking his length, positioning him as he lowered me onto him. My mouth dropped with a sigh as he filled me, a whimper bursting free when he bottomed out.

  His hands went to either side of my face, holding firm, staring into my eyes. “The heart covers nothing,” he said. “Nothing. This pussy is mine, Ruby. You are mine, always were, always will be.” He lifted me, his cock sliding out to the tip, then he lowered me back down, painfully slow. “Anyone before,” he grunted. “They don’t matter, don’t exist. It’s just you and me.”

  My eyes started to sting. “You really want that?” I whispered.

  “Fuck yes,” he hissed through his teeth, expression fierce.

  He was deep inside me, but held my body still, had complete control over my movements, and right now he was torturing us both. I pointed to the pink rose tattoo between my neck and shoulder. “You remember when Valery got rid of my cat?”

  He dipped his chin.

  “This is the rose you gave to me. I stole Valery’s instant camera and took a picture of it. Kept it for years. I got that one on my nineteenth birthday.”

  He cursed and groaned again, lifting me and slamming me back down, grinding up this time.

  I cried out, panting and shaking, but forced myself to go on. I lifted my hands, wrists aimed at him. I had a moon on one side and a star on the other. “I got these on my twentieth.” I dropped my hands back to his shoulders, slid them around his neck, then up to cup his jaw. “When I was twelve and the other kids teased me about my thrift shop clothes, and I told you I desperately wanted a new dress. You told me you’d give me the moon and the stars if you could.”

  His lips peeled back, teeth gritted.

  “That meant everything to me.”

  “I felt so fucking helpless, not being able to give you what you needed,” he growled, taking one of my hands and pressing his mouth to the moon I’d just shown him.

  I twined my fingers with his and lowered his hand to the ink on my thigh, the newest one I’d gotten, just a few short weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime since then.

  He glanced down, thumb gliding over it, over the delicate-looking pink petals.

  “You remember the beautiful cherry blossom tree outside your bedroom window?”

  “Yeah,” he rasped, fingers flexing, pressing into my skin.

  “When I came to you that night, I’d picked one, tucked it behind my ear, ready to tell you I loved you . . . but then I saw you, with someone else . . .”

  “Baby . . .” he groaned.

  I shook my head. “I got this one because I’d convinced myself to let you go, that I had to finally . . . let you go . . .” I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his. “But I couldn’t . . . because it’s always been you and me, Neco. It’s never stopped being that for me. My body . . . it’s covered in the story of us. Almost every bit of ink I’ve gotten, somehow, represents us.”

  His hands were back on my face, pushing my hair back, pulling my mouth down on his, filling my lungs with his rough breaths, his heart thudding hard and fast against mine. I started moving against him, rolling my hips, keeping him deep, our mouths fused together the whole time. The way he held me so tight, I couldn’t do much more. It was perfect. He started shaking under me, fingers digging deep enough to leave bruises. I wanted them. Wanted a reminder of this moment.

  My orgasm built slower this time, taking me by surprise when it rolled though me. My inner muscles clamped down hard on him over and over and I cried out, feeding him every moan and whimper. He did the same, shaking and jerking beneath me, pulsing inside me, groaning, chest vibrating against mine.

  We stayed like that for the longest time, neither one speaking, just holding each other.

  Finally, after what felt like forever, he stood, and strode down the hall, kicking the door open to his bedroom and lowered me to his bed.

  I dragged back the covers and climbed in as he slid in beside me. His expression was fierce as he wrapped his big body around me.

  After a while, he said into the silence, voice rough, “I thought I was doing the
right thing. After what happened that night, what those guys nearly did to you . . . I nearly came after you, I wanted to make you my girl. I’d never wanted anything so bad in my life. But I couldn’t have you. So I drank, I fucked, I did whatever I could to try and get you out of my head, because it was my job to look after you, to keep you safe, to keep you away from my fucked-up world . . .

  “I know,” I whispered back.

  His arms tightened around me, burying his face against my shoulder. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You were protecting me, like you always have.”

  “I’m never letting you go again, Ruby. You know that, right?”

  “Yes.” And I did. I had no doubt, not in my heart or my mind.

  “I’m gonna try and keep a lid on my temper, but I’m on edge here, and until this shit is over with, I’m gonna stay on edge.” He kissed my shoulder. “If I start acting like a dick, tell me to shut the fuck up.”

  I smiled. “I can do that.”

  “Never had any trouble before,” he said, humor lacing his voice.

  I turned more fully in his arms. “The other morning, when you and Van were talking? Was it . . . was it about my case?”

  He kissed me softly. “No.”

  Relief washed over me. “Okay.” But my relief was swiftly followed by another dose of guilt. I hated that I was lying to him, but I knew he’d try and stop me if he found out I was trying to find Scott as well. “It’s only a matter of time. This will all be over soon. I know it will.”

  He gave me a squeeze. “Let’s not talk about it tonight, okay? Tonight, I just want to hold you and forget everything else.”

  I could give him that. “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  As much as I wanted this nightmare to end, there was nothing we could do tonight. I also wanted to just let him hold me and, yeah, just forget everything for a little while.

  Just until the morning.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ruby

  I watched Neco walk into the living room. He was fresh from the shower, but he hadn’t shaved, and he had that sexy scruff thing going on. His jeans hugged his thighs as he strode to the coffee table and grabbed his phone and wallet, shoving them in his pocket. His T-shirt was black as usual and clung to his pecs, a little looser over his abs, showing off the ink covering his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  And dear God, did the man have beautiful lips. I wanted to suck on them . . . all the time.

  I didn’t think my need for him would ever lessen.

  He joined me at the breakfast bar and I slid a cup of coffee toward him. He ignored it, came around to me, grabbed my butt, and lifted me up so I was sitting on the counter.

  His strong fingers dug into the globes of my ass, squeezing and massaging.

  “If you’re trying to get me to skip work with you by walking around in that thong, you’re succeeding,” he said.

  “It seems you worked out my cunning plan.” I nipped his lower lip. “Am I so transparent?”

  “Yes.”

  “I kinda thought the tank would be what tipped you.” I’d dragged on my discarded clothes from the night before. The worn fabric hid nothing, and I was pretty sure you could see not only my barbell, but the color of my nipples though it.

  His hands slid higher, flexing at my waist then up to cup my breasts. “Oh, these tits have definitely factored into my decision making, you can be sure of that.”

  “Phew! For a minute, I thought the girls had lost their super power.”

  “Nope.” He dropped his head, smooshing his face between them and gave me a motorboat.

  I squawked, giggling like a lunatic, while I tried to wiggle free. My legs ended up spread wider and the very hard length of him was flush against my rapidly dampening flesh. I squirmed some more, which just caused the lace to rub against my clit in a really good way. He caught my nipple between his teeth though my shirt, tugging on my piercing, and I squealed again, which quickly broke off on a moan when he sucked away the sting.

  I reached down, attacking the front of his jeans, popping the button . . .

  His phone started ringing.

  We cursed simultaneously.

  “Don’t move,” he said, fishing it out of his back pocket.

  I froze, striking a goofy pose while grinning like an idiot.

  But his grin, the lightness, the humor, on his face vanished pretty fast when whoever was on the other end of phone started talking. His voice went tight, his answers short. He talked for a few moments more, then ended it, and shoved his phone back in his pocket, looking tense as hell.

  “Who was that?”

  He shook his head. “Work.”

  “And?”

  His jaw was tight when he looked at me. “This is one of those things I can’t discuss with you.”

  “Is it about me? Scott?”

  “I told you, if I knew something I’d share it with you.”

  I slid off the counter, planting my hands on my hips. But it was kind of hard to look all business when you were standing in your undies with half your ass hanging out. I wasn’t going to let him shut me out of this, though. “What is it then? Something’s bothering you. That conversation with Van, now this phone call. You’re keeping something from me.”

  He crossed his arms, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

  The man was straight up lying. I knew him well enough to know that. “Bullshit.” I pointed a finger at him. “Jesus, Neco, what the hell is going on?”

  He stiffened, nostrils flaring. “Enough,” he barked. “I’m done with the fucking interrogation. I can’t spell it out to you any clearer. I’ve told you repeatedly that I will share anything on Scott or this case when I know something.”

  That may be so, but I knew there was something else going on here, perhaps not the case directly, but he was definitely keeping something important from me. “Neco . . .”

  “I have to go.” He swiped up his keys off the counter beside me and headed to the door. He glanced back at me before he walked out, “Be careful at work today.”

  “I always am,” I said, a massive lump forming in my throat.

  He didn’t say anymore, just slammed the door after him.

  * * *

  I stripped off and stepped into the shower, washing the sweat from my still overheated, achy body. I’d managed to sneak in a training session with Zeke after work, and loved every minute of it. The classes I’d been doing had been great, they kept me strong, but Zeke had taken it a step farther. Our first lesson here at the apartment had been short and he hadn’t really gotten an idea of my skill level. It’d felt pretty great today when I’d surprised him. Okay, I’d only gotten the better of him once, and only because he didn’t know how advanced I was, but the look on his face had been extremely gratifying. After that, he’d kicked my ass. Repeatedly. But he took the time to explain, like last time. Making sure I was using my body to its full advantage.

  I’d lost a lot of confidence after Scott got the better of me, more than I wanted to admit. And it felt good to build that back up.

  I climbed out, quickly dried off, and pulled on some clothes. I’d worked very hard all day at not thinking about Neco and our argument this morning.

  Why he felt the need to keep whatever this was from me.

  What it could mean for us.

  My eyes drifted shut and I fought back a wave of emotion. I could only assume, whatever this was, he thought he needed to protect me from it. I knew the way Neco’s mind worked better than anyone, and that’s the only thing it could be. From the time he was old enough to do it, Neco had been looking after his mother, had spent his childhood terrified for her. But he hadn’t been able to protect her, the most important person in his life. Not until he was much older. It had been too late. He couldn’t protect her from herself. And I knew how much that killed him.

  So yeah, I understood why he was acting the way he was. Why he was locking me out. Fear, plain and simple. I jus
t didn’t know how to get through to him, to get him to open up to me.

  I was in the living room when my phone started ringing. I scooped it up and checked the screen.

  I didn’t recognize the number.

  “Ruby,” someone said, before I even had a chance to speak.

  “Scott?”

  “Please, listen to me. I . . . I need to talk to you. I messed everything up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promise I won’t hurt you again, but I need you to meet me. It’s important. Please.”

  I despised Scott. He’d attacked me, used me, filmed me, sent images of me to some sicko perv website, but he had the answers to all my questions. There was more to this whole thing, the way he attacked me, the things he was saying. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

  I didn’t try and get it out of him over the phone because I wanted to know where he was—I intended to bring him in, and this time he wouldn’t get the better of me. I was going in prepared.

  “Where are you?”

  “You have to come alone. If I see anyone with you, I’m gone.”

  I wasn’t dumb enough to go in without backup, no matter what he said. I wasn’t telling him that, though. “Fine. Where?”

  It only took me twenty minutes to find the small, run-down Brooklyn house. I parked a few blocks away, behind Harry’s truck. As I climbed out of my car, I concentrated on the feel of my gun against my back and the heavy weight of the cuffs in my front pocket, reassuring myself.

  Harry climbed out and met me on the sidewalk. “You ready?”

  “You’ll need to stay out of sight or we could lose him.”

  Harry dipped his chin and we walked quickly down the street. There were no other cars parked in front of or around the house, nothing that would tip me off to some kind of ambush waiting inside. The houses on both sides were either empty or no one was home, because the lights were out, making the backyard extremely dark.

  Harry and I split up, in case Scott was watching from somewhere. The ground was squishy under my boots as I made my way to the back door, pulling my gun free as I took the steps. The door was ajar and I pushed it open, pausing to take in my surroundings, searching the shadows, listening for anything.