Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)

by Jen McLaughlin

  I needed to forget it all, just for a second.

  He scraped his teeth against my already sensitive clit, his tongue rolling around me in wide, sweeping circles. My breathing came faster, and I fisted my hands in his hair, pushing him even closer to me. It still wasn’t close enough, and it never would be. “Lucas, oh my God.”

  He deepened his strokes, thrusting a finger inside me at the same time. Stars burst in front of me, and I came explosively against his mouth. Growling, he spun me so my ass was in the air and gripped my hips from behind me. After a few moments, he pressed his erection against me, right where his lips had been earlier, and I came again, even harder than before. Grunting, he gripped my hair and pulled my head back tenderly.

  His mouth pressed to my ear, and he nibbled on it. “I love fucking you with my mouth, darlin’. Love the way you taste when you come, and those breathy little cries you make. I love—” He cut off, his grip tightening in my hair. “I could live the rest of my life with my head between those creamy thighs of yours and die a happy man, but right now? I need to fuck you.”

  I nodded. “Yes. God yes.”

  He plunged inside of me with one long, hard hit. My nails scraped over the countertop, searching for purchase, but I came up empty. He gripped my hips and moved inside of me, each stroke harder than the last. I arched my back and pushed against him, straining to get even closer to him.

  “Heidi.” His hips moved faster, and he moaned. “You’re gonna kill me.”

  I cried out, the pressure building inside me until it boiled over. And the second it did, he was there with me, his body tensing as he came, too. Breathing heavily, he collapsed against me, but he didn’t crush me between him and the counter. “Lucas . . .”

  “I know.” He kissed the top of my head. “Believe me. I know.”

  We stayed like that for a short time, him holding me close, till he swept me up without a word and carried me into the bedroom. His pants were stuck on one ankle, so it was almost comical. Almost. Instead, it felt bittersweet. Gently, he laid me on the left side of the bed and pulled the covers over me.

  Yanking his shirt over his head, he threw it on the floor. He stood there, gloriously naked, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. I would never get sick of looking at him. Admiring those tattoos, and muscles, and—

  Oh my God, were those freckles on his shoulder?

  “What?” He glanced down at his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Are those”—I got up on my knees and crawled over to him. He watched me, his chest rising and falling as I got closer—“freckles?”

  He covered his shoulder immediately, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Yeah. Why?”

  “I want to see them.” I tugged his hand down, and he let me. Reaching out, I traced the pattern of his freckles. They were in the shape of . . . of . . . “Is that a star?”

  His cheeks turned even redder. “Yeah. Ma always said it was a sign I was destined to be a star. She was obviously wrong.”

  I drew the star on his shoulder. I hadn’t known the significance before, but he had a matching star tattoo on his other shoulder, right above his piercing. A memorial to his mother. The love I had for him, pure and strong, punched me in the chest. It choked me, catching in my throat, but I swallowed it down. “Your mother was a very wise person.”

  “No. She was wrong. I’m not a star; I’m a criminal.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “She’s dead, and Scotty wants me dead, and if I’m not careful, you’ll be dead, too.”

  My heart twisted. “Lucas—”

  “Don’t.” He ruffled his hair and let out a long sigh. “Just don’t.”

  I wanted to argue, to beg him not to shut me out again, but what was the point? As real as all this might feel to me, it wasn’t real to him. He didn’t want to open up to me, and any connection I felt was one-sided. He reminded me of the fact that this was temporary enough times to get that point across. “Are you going to run off to work on cars again?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I should. I think best when I’m alone, when my hands are busy and no one talks to me.”

  “Is that why you only work on them in the middle of the night, when no one else is there?”

  “No. I only work on them in the middle of the night when no one else is there because I’m not actually a mechanic.” He stepped out of his boxers and stretched. Every lean muscle of his taunted me. “But if I was, I’d still want to work alone. I do everything best when I’m alone.” He shot me a smirk. “Well, minus one thing, anyway.”

  I rolled my eyes and snorted. “Wow. Smooth.” I faced the wall and curled up on my side. I didn’t want to watch him leave me again, even though I’d never expect anything else from him. “Have fun with your cars.”

  He sighed. “Good night, sweetheart.”

  “Night,” I murmured.

  Closing my eyes, I waited for him to walk away. To do what he did best, to retreat behind a wall of loneliness and ice. So when he cursed, and the bed dipped under his weight . . . I almost missed it. He lay down beside me, pulling the blanket over himself, too. He rubbed his cheek against mine. “You can relax, sweetheart. I don’t bite . . . hard.”

  I held my breath, sure if I breathed, he’d remember I was here and leave. But he didn’t. He pulled me into his arms and curled his body around mine. I still didn’t move. Instead, I lay there, blinking at the wall. I’d never been so shocked to have someone touch me before. I forced my muscles to chill the hell out. “. . . What are you doing?”

  “Um.” He chuckled, the sound innately sexy as hell. “Last I checked, but don’t quote me on this, it’s called ‘spooning.’ I believe it’s what people do when they sleep together. I’ve never done it before, but I figured I’d give it a go.” He rolled his hips against my ass, his erection brushing against me insistently. “Turns out, it feels good.”

  I laughed, too. “Well, yeah. But why are you doing it with me?”

  “Because we fucked, and now I’m tired, and this is my bed, too.” He nipped at my shoulder. “Though this position isn’t exactly conducive to sleep, is it?”

  A moan escaped me. “Not when you’re doing that.”

  His hand slid down the curve of my hip and slid inside my thighs. “Damn. You feel good, darlin’.”

  “Lucas . . .” I whispered, my voice breathy.

  “Don’t make this into something huge.” His hand stopped its descent. “I’m just sick of sleeping on the couch.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I tried to read his expression, but it was too dark. “I can sleep out there, if you want.”

  “I don’t want that.” His arms flexed around me, holding me even closer. “You know why I’m here tonight,” he said gruffly. “I’m not gonna fucking say it.”

  But, God, I wanted him to. I wanted to know if what he was saying was what I wanted him to say—or if this was just one moment of bliss before we parted. Because my gut told me it was the latter, as much as I might hope it was the former. Despite the doubts plaguing me and the questions running in circles in my mind, I snuggled in closer, hiding my smile in my pillow, and went to sleep.

  CHAPTER 27

  LUCAS

  Warm, naked skin was pressed against me, and an arm was thrown over my chest. If I wasn’t mistaken, a leg was over mine, too, and it felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. The Saturday-morning sun shone through the curtains, warming my bare shoulders, and the slight hint of a peachy scent teased my senses.

  Smiling, I kept my eyes closed, enjoying this once-in-a-lifetime experience for what it was. It was the only slice of normalcy I’d ever get.

  While it had been a mistake to spend the night with her, I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t have much longer with her in my arms, so I’d decided to live life for once, instead of just surviving it. I’d decided to see what all the fuss was about and slept with a woman curled up in my arms. Turned out, sleeping with a woman was . . . nice.

  Better than nice.

  But it was daytime now, and it was time
to find my brother and end this, one way or the other. And to do that, I had to make sure Heidi stayed out of my way and out of danger. I skimmed my fingers over her bare arm, and she made a soft sound in her sleep, burrowing closer to me. My smile widened.

  I couldn’t help it.

  She felt good.

  Run with me. If you run with me . . . I’ll go. My heart picked up speed as her words replayed in my head for the millionth time. Ever since she’d spoken them, those blue eyes of hers shining at me with so much emotion it had choked me, I hadn’t been able to get them outta my head. Hell, I’d even dreamt about them. Run with me. If you run with me . . . I’ll go.

  It was the one solution I’d refused to accept.

  The one solution I’d ignored, because I didn’t fucking run.

  It wasn’t me. But with her . . . could I do it? Take one of life’s ultimate challenges and turn a guy like me into a law-abiding citizen. Start a mechanic shop and try life on the legal side of the tracks. But could I really be that guy? Could I—

  The downstairs door to my apartment opened slowly.

  I stiffened, every nerve in my body awakening at the sound of the creaking hinge, keeping my eyes shut in case someone was watching me already. Sliding my hand under my pillow, I felt around for my pistol . . .

  And then remembered I’d set it down by the door while fighting with Heidi last night. I still had the one Chris had given me, but that meant I’d left a weapon out there. A weapon that could be used against me, instead of for me. “Shit,” I muttered.

  “Hm?” Heidi asked, stirring beside me. “What’s—?”

  I slammed my hand down on her mouth, and she came to with flailing arms. One managed to clock me on the side of the head before she finally focused on me. The second she did, I held a finger to my mouth in a shh gesture and cocked my head toward the door, hoping she’d get the message. She looked terrified, but she nodded.

  I lowered my hand and whispered, “Get under the bed. Now.”

  She didn’t argue with me. Within a second of my command, she threw the covers off and crawled under my bed, wearing nothing but a shirt she must’ve pulled on during the night. I wore nothing at all . . . and we were under attack.

  I never should have let my guard down.

  Making sure to move silently, I rushed to my nightstand and pulled out the loaded Glock I kept hidden there. My pulse raced, and adrenaline pumped through my veins. Looked like I didn’t have to find Scotty after all. He’d found me.

  “Whatever you see or hear, don’t come out.” I stepped into a pair of sweats. The last thing I needed was my cock hanging out as I fought for our lives. I glanced down at the floor. There was no sign of her, but I knew she was under the bed. “Not even if they kill me in front of you. Got it?”

  She peeked her head out, locking eyes with me. I saw so much in hers that it made me even more determined to get the hell out of here alive . . . no matter the costs. I saw my fucking future. My life. My past. It was all there, staring back at me. For the first time in my life, I truly, fully, completely regretted something.

  I regretted not running with her when I had the chance.

  “Lucas . . .” she whispered.

  “Don’t. Come. Out.” I tipped my head. “Now, get back under.”

  She nodded and slid back under the bed as far as she could go. “Be careful.”

  I tightened my grip on my gun, sent a quick prayer upstairs in case that God everyone always talked about actually gave a damn, and crept to the door. Heart racing, I plastered myself against the wall next to it, gun held at the ready.

  The second they opened it . . . I’d be on them.

  With any luck, I’d have the element of surprise since they’d expect me to be asleep in bed. Footsteps crept up to the door, and hushed whispers came through the door. The knob jiggled, and then the door flew open. A man came bolting through it, gun raised, so without hesitation, I pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed all over my face and splattered all over the wall behind the first bastard trying to kill me today.

  I didn’t have time to check and see if I knew him, because there were more.

  Before I could get off another shot, a fist connected with my temple. My vision blurred, and I cursed under my breath. I stumbled back and lifted my arm again. Too late.

  At least two hundred pounds of pure muscle launched itself at me, and I hit the floor hard. My head knocked into my dresser as I went down, stinging like a bitch, but I didn’t have time to cry over shit like this. I had to fight. Lifting my gun, I managed to get a shot off, but the man on top of me lunged to the side at the last second. My vision was even more blurred from the hits I’d taken, but I didn’t let that slow me down.

  I couldn’t.

  A fist hit my stomach, and I fought the nausea trying to take over me. I struggled to get a lock on the man attacking me, but my damn vision wouldn’t cooperate. At the last second, I saw black metal pointed at me, and kicked at it with a curse. My bare foot connected with bone and metal, and it skittered across the floor to the foot of the bed.

  Toward Heidi.

  From my position on the floor, I had a second to meet her stare directly, but that was all I had. She was still hidden, covering her mouth to stifle any sound she might make, and still safe. Lifting my gun, I fired off another shot. This time, I didn’t miss. The fucker hit the floor, convulsing and choking on his own blood.

  I rolled to my feet, gasping in a deep breath and pressing a hand to my stomach. Jesus Christ, this had to be hell on earth. Fighting not only for my own life, but for the life of the woman I loved. How could I—? Wait, what?

  Maybe that fall had affected more than my vision.

  My ears rang from the gunshots, and I blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear my vision and my brain. I was nearly certain I had a concussion, and the dizziness was as unwelcome as it was dangerous. As were my inner thoughts, so I shut them the fuck down. But still, all I could hear was the thumping of my racing heart, echoing in my head. A quick glance confirmed what I already knew.

  Neither of these men was my brother.

  But I recognized them . . . even though my bullets had blown their heads apart. They were two of the Bitter Hill guys from Heidi’s bar the other night, George and Patrick. Where George and Patrick went, Phil went, too. There was at least one more guy out there, waiting to pounce. I’d have to pounce first.

  It was the only way we’d get out of here alive.

  I lifted my gun and crept toward the door. I didn’t hear anything from the living room, but the pounding of my heart told me I wasn’t safe yet. I’d always trusted my instincts when it came to shit like this, and I wasn’t about to stop doing so now, when they had never failed me before. Ignoring Heidi in case anyone was watching, I tiptoed through the door and peeked out into the living room.

  No sign of anyone, but I knew he was there. The second I stepped through the door, someone pressed the business end of a gun to the back of my head. The asshat had been hidden against the wall, just like I’d been. And I’d fallen for it.

  “Freeze, fucker,” he commanded, his tone as mocking as mine would have been, had the roles been reversed.

  I did. He was behind me, holding a gun to my head, so for now, he had the advantage. I wouldn’t let that last for long, though. The stakes were too high. I had to win, or die trying. And if I died . . . Heidi died. That wasn’t acceptable.

  “Don’t even blink. Gun up.”

  “Phil. How nice of you to come play,” I said slowly, holding my hands out but not relinquishing my gun. “I was wondering when I’d get to reunite you with your buddies.”

  “Face the window.”

  I turned toward the window. “You want to let me watch the bright blue sky as you shoot me?” I sighed. “Wow. I hadn’t taken you for a sentimental guy. Maybe I’ll be nice when I kill you, too.” I paused, as if thinking about it. “Then again, I never was any good at being nice.”

  “You’re gonna kill me?” Phil asked, laughing.


  I nodded once. “Yep.”

  “I’m not the one with a gun to my head,” Phil said, sounding out of breath already, when he hadn’t even done a damn thing yet. He pressed the barrel into the back of my head even harder, twisting it, managing to find the spot I’d slammed into the dresser. It hurt like a bitch, but I clenched my jaw to keep any telltale signs of weakness from showing. “And you’re already bleeding.”

  “What? That?” I chuckled. “That’s just a scratch. You want to see blood, look at your buddies. They’re ruining my hardwood floors with all that brain matter.”

  Phil growled. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “I’ll tell you what. How about I give you one chance to run for it. I’ll count to three, and once I finish, if you’re still here, I’ll blow your brains out and ruin my floors out here, too.” I grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I know a guy who can get the stains out.”

  The gun shoved in the back of my head wavered. “Go to hell.”

  “Gladly. One.”

  “Stop it,” Phil warned, the gun wavering even more. “Stop counting.”

  “Two.” I tensed, ready to whirl and hoped to hell that Phil wasn’t quick enough to fight me off. It was all I had going for me. “Th—”

  “Three,” Chris said, his voice loud in the silence of the room.

  “Chris.” Relief hit me, hard and fast, and my knees threatened to give out on me. After all this tension and fear, my blood brother had swooped in to save the day. I wasn’t fighting alone. “Thank God. Kill this little shit.”

  Chris laughed. “Yeah . . . I can’t exactly do that. I kind of hired him.”