“Don’t let go.”
“I won’t, baby.”
“I don’t want you to ever let go.” She knew he couldn’t promise her that. She knew. But it still hurt when he didn’t.
Crash held her for a long time. Until long after her trembling had stopped, until long after all he could think about was the feel of her soft body that fit so well against his. He wanted to turn the mood around and bring her out of the dark place he’d forced her to revisit. He knew it wasn’t the time for joking, but he thought maybe there was something else he could try. He started rocking, his hips moving from side to side. He felt her tense a moment before she relaxed back into him, moving with him.
“Crash?” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“Hmm?” The sound vibrated through his chest under her ear as her head pressed against him.
“Are we…dancing?” she asked hesitantly.
“Um hmm. Dancing in the moonlight. Isn’t there a song about that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
He continued swaying.
“Crash?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s no music.”
“There will be if you sing to me.”
She smiled. “I can’t sing.”
His hand slid into his pocket, and he pulled out his phone. She pulled back and watched his thumb move over the screen as he pulled up his playlist. When the song began, he laid the phone down on the ledge, and he pulled her back into his arms, bringing her soft body up against him as he rocked her slowly.
“This is nice,” she whispered.
“Yeah, baby. It is.”
Several songs later, he put her to bed and tucked her in. Leaning down, he’d kissed her forehead. Afraid to do more. Afraid that the thin hold he had on his control would break. He brushed the hair back from her forehead, smiling down at her. “Sleep, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
Her big, gorgeous eyes stared back up at him, the blue turned silvery in the moonlight. “Goodnight, Crash.”
He walked to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of bourbon down and poured himself a shot. Downing it, he set the shot glass down, and stood with his palms on the counter, staring at the granite.
Shit.
For the first time in all of this, he wasn’t sure he could help her. Keep her safe? Yes. But this? What she was suffering? He wasn’t sure.
*****
An installer from the cable company showed up at the loft two days later. Crash let him in. Shannon, who was curled up on the sectional with a magazine, the kitten next to her, looked at Crash with a questioning frown, but didn’t say anything until the man had finished his job and left.
After he was gone, Shannon caught Crash’s eye, her brow raised.
He turned to her from where he stood by the island, his hands landing on his hips. “What?”
She grinned huge. “You got me cable.”
He grumbled, “Don’t be so happy about it, you paid for it.”
He couldn’t just be nice about it, she thought. No, he had to rub it in about the five thousand dollars she’d had to turn over to him. The loss of control of her own money had been one of the things that had irked her the most. Consequently, she took it out on him. Tossing the magazine to the side, she snapped back at him, “Well, at least I got something for my money!”
His hands dropped from his hips, and he advanced on her. “What’s the matter, Princess? You ain’t gettin’ enough for your money? Huh? I need to add a service to this job?”
Her eyes dropped to where his hands had raised to his belt buckle. She watched stunned as he began unbuckling the belt. Her hand came up, as if to ward him off, and her eyes lifted to his as he stood over her, stopping just in front of where she sat on the couch. “Crash, wait. I didn’t mean anything, I…”
“You just say the word, Princess, and I’ll be glad to service any needs you feel I’ve neglected. Wouldn’t want you thinkin’ you weren’t getting’ your money’s worth.”
She looked up at him, seeing the determined, uncompromising, hard line of his features. He stood over her. Powerful. Commanding. Intimidating. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it, Crash.”
He leaned over her, his palm landing on the back of the sofa. His nearness pressing her backward against the cushion, his face in hers. And all she could do was swallow and look up at him, her back pressed as deep into the sofa as she could get.
His eyes bore into hers. “You want your five grand back? You want to end this arrangement?”
She shook her head. “No, Crash.” He stared at her a long moment, and then she watched his eyes drop to her mouth. He seemed to struggle with something, and then he pulled back with a violent shove against the back of the couch, flinging himself up. He stalked across the loft, slamming the door as he went up on the roof.
*****
Three days later, Crash stood in the shower, the hot water beating over his skin, steam filling the bathroom. He thought of Shannon. For the last three days they’d barely spoken. Crash knew he should make an overture toward her, toward fixing things, but he couldn’t. It was better they were barely speaking. It helped him keep his distance from her. And that was becoming more difficult by the hour. There was a heightened sexual tension that had developed between them, which had the very air around them practically crackling. He was really starting to struggle with the fact that there was a woman staying at his place, sleeping in his bed and he wasn’t fucking her. Her things were everywhere, her scent was everywhere. It was beginning to drive him crazy. His nerves were strung so tight, and the hunger for her was so strong, it was becoming like a fire that burned day and night. One he was afraid he either had to completely extinguish or it would consume him.
And now it was Friday, and he knew he had to take her to that damn party tonight. He cursed Mack for pulling this bullshit. It served no purposed but to yank his chain. And make his job of looking out for Shannon that much harder.
Cursing, he slammed his left palm against the tile wall.
Angel was supposed to be coming over tonight to help her get ready. God only knew what outfit she’d come up with this time. She seemed determined to push them together, at least to drive him crazy. His mind drifted to those short shorts Shannon had worn to the BBQ and how they’d made her legs and ass look. Then his thoughts turned to what it had felt like to kiss her when he’d dragged her into the hallway to talk. Her sweet mouth had opened so gently and hesitantly at first, and it had only enflamed him higher, and then when he’d pressed his way in, her fiery response had thrilled him. His tongue had stroked hers, and she’d matched him stroke for stroke, her head tilting back, inviting him to drink his fill.
His right hand unconsciously closed over his dick, and he began stroking, thinking of how she had looked in his bed in that damn silk pajama set. Her honeyed skin luminous in the moonlight. He thought about how he imagined she’d look naked, sprawled in his bed, or naked in this shower pushed up against this tile wall, her skin glistening wet.
He groaned, stroking harder, his head bent, the water sluicing over him. As sexually charged as he was, it wasn’t long before he’d stroked himself into a grunting, clenching release.
True to her word, Angel showed up a few hours later to help Shannon get ready. It was a good thing too, because by that time Shannon had worked herself up into some kind of a state. Crash knew she was nervous about going tonight. He’d tried to reassure her that it was going to be okay. But fear of the unknown was clawing at her.
Angel had stepped out of the elevator with a bag of stuff in one hand, and a FedEx shipping box in the other. Crash had frowned, thinking that was odd, but afraid to ask. Angel then proceeded to hustle him out of the place, insisting he go on to Church, the club’s meeting, and she’d drop Shannon off later for the party.
With a quick look at Shannon, he’d nodded and left.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Angel pulled her car down the road that dead-ended at the Evil Dead clubhouse parking lot. Shanno
n looked over at her from the passenger seat, her stomach in knots.
Angel looked over at her and smiled. “Quit worrying. You’ll be fine. Crash will watch out for you.”
“You sure this outfit isn’t going to piss him off?”
Angel grinned a sly grin. “Maybe,” she confessed. “But it’s guaranteed to keep him stuck to you like glue all night.”
Shannon took a deep breath.
Angel looked at her with a worried expression. “Shannon, you’ve been to society functions, right? Filled with a lot of rich, intimidating people?”
“Of course.”
“Same here. Just go in with your head up, and don’t let them intimidate you.”
Shannon nodded. “All right.”
“By that, I don’t mean be a stuck-up bitch,” Angel elaborated.
“Right.”
“Right.”
They turned onto the lot, and Angel stopped near the door. Shannon looked over at it. Wolf was standing outside talking on his cell phone. She looked back at Angel, reaching for the door handle. “Wish me luck.”
“Have fun. Remember, we’re having girl’s night Tuesday!”
“Right. Goodnight, Angel.” She got out of the car, shut the door and immediately turned, leaning in the window. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome. Now, own it, girl!”
Shannon straightened and turned to see Wolf pulling the cell phone from his ear and snapping it closed, a stunned expression on his face as his eyes swept over her. She walked to him. “Hello, Wolf.”
He whistled low and sweet. “Goddamn, girl. Crash is gonna flip when he sees you.”
“Is he in there?” she asked, trying to keep the nervous butterflies at bay.
“Yup. He’s playin’ a game of pool with Cole. Party hasn’t really started. It’s early yet. Things will heat up in a couple hours.” He reached out and grabbed the door, holding it open for her. “After you, sweetheart.”
Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin and walked in. Pausing a few steps in, she glanced around the room, taking it all in.
The party may not have started yet, but the music was blasting a hard rock driving beat. The room was dim, but not too dark. There were a lot of people already there, a smattering of women, but mostly men. She looked around, searching for Crash and felt Wolf move in close behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder at him and saw him nod in the direction of one of the pool tables in back. Turning, she followed the direction of his gaze, and then she saw him.
Crash stood by the pool table, his cue clenched in both hands, its butt resting on the floor. He studied the table and the crappy shots that Cole had just left him. Cole straightened, having just finished his shot. He smiled at Crash with a shit-eating grin. “Get out of that, motherfucker.”
Crash shook his head, squatting down to study the angle of a shot. “Asshole.”
“Crash, you ever see the movie, Grease?” Cole asked him out of the blue.
“Yeah, why?” Crash leaned to study another shot.
“Remember that part where ‘good’ Sandy goes ‘bad’?”
Crash stood, frowning at him. “You mean when she dresses in that hot black outfit? Yeah, I’m a red-blooded man. That was the best part of the whole damn movie. Why?”
Cole nudged him and nodded his head toward the door. Crash twisted his head to look. What filled his eyes had his breath leaving him and the rest of the room fading into oblivion. “Holy shit,” he managed to whisper.
There, standing near the door was Shannon, but she sure as hell wasn’t the Shannon he knew. This hot little number was something straight out of a biker’s wet dream. His eyes swept over her, taking in the decadent outfit. She was wearing a pair of low-rider black leather pants that hit a couple inches below her belly-button. They fit her like a glove, showing off the alluring curve of her hips, the endless length of her legs and flaring in a boot-cut that covered what looked like a sparkly pair of spike heeled sandals. His eyes trailed back up over the vast expanse of exposed belly, and what a gorgeous stomach it was. All smooth flat golden skin.
Something sparkled, and his eyes zeroed in on it. Good God, she had her belly button pierced. This was the first time her belly had been laid bare to him. Crash had a thing for piercings there, they really did it for him. He sucked in a breath, his eyes continuing their track up her body.
Her breasts were contained in a leather halter top that plunged to the bottom of her breasts, and then covered a couple of inches below the band under her breasts. A zipper ran up the front. The soft supple leather gleamed in the dim lighting as it hugged the round fullness of her tits. Her toned arms bared and free of ink, a rarity among the women here. To top it all off, her hair was left down to fall in silken waves over her shoulders and back.
Jesus H. Christ.
She had a way of making black leather pants look smokin’ hot and classy. The combination suited him just fine. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. The crowd’s attention had shifted to her as well.
Shannon watched as he turned and spotted her. A split-second later, he was walking toward her. From the roll of his broad shoulders to the rock of his hips, he had the sexiest walk she’d ever seen. Self-confidence emanated from him in waves. He stopped two feet in front of her, his eyes capturing hers in a penetrating stare that lasted several heartbeats before he finally spoke.
“Hey trouble.”
She’d been holding her breath, waiting for his reaction, but his casual teasing set her at ease. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, and then she rolled her eyes at the nickname.
“That’s some outfit. It’s about as much as I can take.” His eyes skated down her body. “That’s one gorgeous package, right down to your pretty painted toes, Princess.
She lifted her chin.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” Crash admitted.
“Then maybe you don’t know me very well,” she responded.
“Uh-huh. We’ll see.” He stepped closer, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair back. Scrutinizing her a moment, he said in a voice that was quiet but firm, “Look, I know you don’t like this. I don’t either. But you’ll be fine. Relax.”
She nodded.
“Come on, pretty girl.” He took her by the hand and turning, pulled her after him. They moved through the crowd. Shannon could hear comments being made about her from several of the men they passed.
“How many drinks you think it’d take for her to leave with me?”
“Damn, I want to get me some of that.”
Shannon wasn’t sure if Crash heard them, if he did, he chose to ignore them. That is until a man stepped in front of them, blocking their path through the crowd and asked, “Crash, she one of Sonny’s girls?”
The guy next to him asked, “Yeah, you gonna dance for us, darlin’?”
Without even slowing down, Crash slammed his palm in the center of the first man’s chest, propelling him backwards over one of the pool tables. Crash’s boot hooked the second man under the legs, while his arm knocked him off balance, shoving him down to the floor.
He continued on, pulling a stunned Shannon behind him. They stopped at a table in the back where Cole now sat with Red Dog.
Red Dog spoke to Cole, his eyes running between Crash and Shannon. “He’s feelin’ a bit bloody tonight, ain’t he?
Cole nodded, grinning. “He’s about to get his pissed-off on.”
“Shut it, Cole,” Crash snapped as he pulled out a chair for Shannon and took a seat next to her.
Cole smiled, and then turned his attention to Shannon. “Hey, darlin’. You’re looking beautiful tonight. But then, you always do.”
She smiled. “Thank you. Do you think you could keep Crash from killing someone while I’m here?”
He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then he turned to Crash. “Hear that, Romeo?
Crash grunted noncommittally.
Cole winked at her. “Dog, gra
b us a couple more glasses.” Red Dog moved off to the bar, returning a moment later with two short tumblers. He set them on the table and sat back down. Cole picked up the bottle of bourbon already sitting on the table and poured them all another shot. He picked one up and handed it to Shannon. “Bottoms up, darlin’.”
They all drank. The men all downed theirs in one swallow. Shannon sipped hers. Cole tipped the bottle up again, filling their glasses. Shannon continued to sip her first drink.
“You’re not keepin’ up, girl.”
She smiled. “Sorry, I’m not much of a drinker. I’ll never keep up with you boys.”
“Well, at least finish that one,” Cole lifted his chin toward her glass.
Shannon took another sip and looked over at Crash. His eyes were scanning the room over his shoulder. Then they came back to her. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
The corner of his mouth pulled up. “Lookin’ at you, Princess, and every guy here’s doing the same.” Crash settled his arm across the back of her chair, a predator openly marking territory. She was his.
Green walked up and bumped Crash’s shoulder with his hip. Crash turned, startled, and his eyes came in direct line with Green’s crotch. He elbowed him. Hard.
Green doubled over in pain and wheezed, “Christ, man. What the hell?”
“Well, get your junk out of my face, motherfucker!”
Cole and Red Dog collapsed into hysterics.
Crash turned back to Shannon, his arm draping around the back of her chair. “Sorry, babe. Couldn’t help myself.”
Shannon rolled her eyes. “How long do we have to be here?”
At her comment, Cole and Dog burst out laughing again.
Crash picked up the bottle and topped off her glass. “Here, have another drink.”
“I don’t think it will help.”
“Yeah, well, do it for me. We may be here awhile.”
“I thought you said I only had to have one,” Shannon reminded him.
CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) Page 20
