Road Warriors (Motorcycle Club Romance Collection) (Bad Boy Collections Book 4)

by Faye, Amy

When all was said and done, when everything was finished, she was sitting in a cold night in a cold car. The engine roared to life, and in a few minutes the warmth would start to pour out of the vents. The ice chilled all the way down to Caroline's bones, and she knew with a disappointingly severe sense of conviction that in the end she wasn't really anywhere near as safe as she had been, nor as confident.

  "You didn't just talk to them, did you?"

  Caroline's voice was low. Almost low enough that she wanted to repeat herself. But she knew, deep in her chest, that he'd heard her regardless. There was a long silence, thick enough that you could practically cut it with a knife.

  Shannen's hands fitted around the steering wheel, tight. He flexed his fingers to loosen them up, but an instant later they were tight on the leather wheel again.

  "Did you?"

  He cursed below his breath. "I'm sorry," he answered.

  Caroline could feel the tears threatening to come out again. She forced them to stop. She wanted to cry, and her body wanted nothing more than to oblige her, but she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. She wasn't going to give herself the satisfaction. She was stronger than that. She had to be stronger than that.

  "What now?"

  He let out a long breath. "Now?"

  "What are you going to do now?"

  He looked at her with a cold expression on his face. She would have been upset by it if she thought that it was meant for her, but she didn't need to be told that it wasn't. He was examining her face, and he wanted her to know he was thinking about her, but the expression on his face was in no way tied to his feelings about her.

  "Now I'm going to go home. I've got someone with me."

  "You're going to go home and you're going to stay home," she said.

  "Not fucking likely," he answered. His voice was low and hard. "Unless you're planning on trying to stop me."

  "You've got bigger problems. Just let it go."

  "You think they'll just let it go?" Now some part of that anger was turned on her, and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about it. She certainly didn't know how she was supposed to react. But she wasn't about to try to figure any of that out, not right now. There was too much else that could go badly.

  "I can't let you leave," she said. Something scratched at her throat and her eyes from inside her skull, and she knew that if she let herself keep talking it was going to be through a veil of tears.

  "Then I'll stay," he said. His voice was still low, still dangerous, still held a knife-edge. She knew that he was probably lying, but she knew that her only hope was to keep him there as long as she could, to keep him interested in whatever she had to offer.

  "Promise," she said, leaning towards him. Her head felt good as her forehead pressed against his shoulder.

  "I promise," he said. The air was starting to blow warm, and as she straightened the constant blast of warm air hit her right in the face. It was oddly comforting. Caroline put up her hands to absorb some of that warmth.

  "Then take me home." As the warmth started to dig into her skin, starting to warm her muscles and make her feel normal again, the shaking didn't go away. She looked down at her body and tried to figure a way that she could force it to stop. It apparently decided that it wasn't going to listen to her.

  They drove slowly. Shannen had never been fond of the speed limit before. He'd never seemed to think it was anything more than a guideline to be considered. But now he was driving as carefully, as slowly as she had ever seen him. It was almost unsettling to watch. The expression on his face soured more and more as they drove.

  But she watched that expression carefully, and every time he looked at her it slipped, just a little bit. Every time, it turned into something that might have been worry, if she thought Shannen O'Brien was capable of it.

  He let out a long breath as they eased up to a stop in front of the house.

  "You have work tomorrow?"

  "No," she said. "I don't."

  "Good, then maybe you don't have to call off." As if it were a foregone conclusion that she'd take his advice on the subject, when he'd never once listened to hers, on anything at all.

  "I don't want to go inside."

  "You're going to have to eventually."

  "Carry me," she said, halfway joking. When he eased out of the car and started going around to her side, she didn't know what to think. When he opened her door, she froze up. He reached past her and clicked the seat belt. He caught it before it could whip past her and eased it back into its place.

  His arms wrapped around her and bundled her up before she knew what was happening. She stayed there, frozen, unsure of what she was supposed to do. Unsure of what she wanted to do.

  "I'm scared," she said. He hefted her up and kicked the door closed, then turned towards the house.

  "I know."

  He carried her up the steps. She liked that, for reasons she didn't particularly want to unpack right now. But it didn't stop the shaking.

  "Shannen, I'm scared," she repeated.

  "I'm right here." The words were like a bottle of Valium, and she relaxed against his body. He was right here. And as long as she could, she was going to make sure that he stayed that way.

  It was better that way, she thought. Better for both of them. Because if she let him, she knew exactly where he was going to be going as soon as she nodded off, and she knew that she wasn't going to like the outcome.

  "Can you stand up?"

  She pressed her head into his shoulder and shook it. "I don't wanna."

  "I need to get my keys."

  Caroline let out a long breath and pulled herself together.

  "Okay," she said. When he let her down it was hard to keep that brief feeling of safety. But it was all she had.

  28

  The first thought that Caroline had, when she finally forced herself through the door, was that she needed a shower. It wasn't normally her pattern to take one, so late in the evening, but there were plenty of things that weren't remotely normal about that day so far. One more change of pace wouldn't hurt.

  If anything, she thought distantly, it might help. Everything else around her seemed to be going to hell. If she could just have one thing to herself, that might be enough. It might have to be enough.

  Her body reacted better than her mind did. When the idea came to her, she told herself immediately that the energy for it simply wasn't there, but her body moved mechanically in spite of that. She stripped off her shirt, daring to look down at her belly.

  The place where the big man had touched her still felt dirty, as if he'd left something behind. But in spite of looking, she couldn't find anything to wash off.

  She let the water run hotter than she would have liked, and then stepped in and pushed her head in under the water, letting it stream down on top of her head. She blew out and sprayed water against the wall of the bath.

  A knock came at the bathroom door, and Shannen's voice called in.

  "You alright in there?"

  He never asked her anything like that before tonight. She almost took it, for an instant, as something approaching an invasion of her privacy. An invasion that she had to admit she couldn't dislike.

  Answering, on the other hand, was another matter. Her mouth didn't want to open. He knocked again and repeated the question. Caroline held herself up with one arm pressed firmly into the wall and tried to make herself feel like she could stay standing. Dutifully, her body continued to keep her upright even as her mind worried over how long she'd be able to keep going.

  The sound of the doorknob turning didn't alarm her, though some voice inside her told Caroline that it should have. She dimly wondered whether or not she'd locked the door. Dimly wondered whether or not it much mattered at that point. She stepped away from the wall unsteadily and let the water hit her, digging little dots of screaming warmth into her flesh. Her fingers rubbed at her stomach, but the feeling of wrongness remained.

  The door opened. Shannen filled it, his s
houlders broad, and she dropped to her knees in spite of herself. Caroline looked weak. Looked like she couldn't handle herself. That made her feel worse than anything else could have, and yet, she couldn't stop herself.

  Her body shook as she squatted down, her eyes making a careful examination of the porcelain tub around her.

  He pulled the curtain back. She could hear him doing it. And then the air seemed to go out of him.

  "You didn't answer," he said. He didn't make any special effort to close the curtain again, though she guessed that water had to be splashing onto him. "I got worried."

  "I'm okay," she said, though she thought it wounded like a lie.

  "You don't look very good," he said, doubtfully. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "I have to be," she answered simply. "What other choice do I have?"

  He let out a long breath and leaned against the wall, suddenly seeming much more tired than she'd realized he was. He looked almost as bad as she did, She didn't know how she was going to deal with it if he weren't in control of the situation they'd found themselves in, either.

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  Caroline let her butt slip back until finally her weight fell off her feet and she was sitting in the tub, and then leaned her back against the angled floor. Water splashed on her. She knew she was showing more than she should have. She didn't much care.

  "Shannen?"

  He looked down at her, his eyes almost showing something approaching sympathy, which was more than a surprise to her. "If you need me to leave," he started, but he didn't move. She knew he wouldn't until she told him to, and she loved him for it.

  "I think they were going to try to…" She didn't finish the thought. The water burned, but she didn't feel it in any meaningful way.

  "I'm sorry. I should have been smarter. Should have protected you better." His voice was low and hoarse and he looked at her like he felt sorry for her. That, she didn't love. She hated it. Her jaw jutted off to one side.

  "I can't get it off. His fingers."

  "What happened?"

  "Nothing," she said. "Nothing really."

  "But something did happen," he said. He knelt down. If he wasn't getting water splashed on him before, he definitely was now. Part of her mind occupied itself watching his shirt darken in the wet as he reached over and touched her face. She melted just a little bit into that touch.

  "They held me still, and the big one, he…"

  She traced the line. She could still feel it. Her hands did nothing to rub the feeling away. The stain went deeper than her skin, but even the skin felt as if she'd touched something oily and unpleasant.

  "Just like that."

  He leaned in and pressed a kiss against her forehead. That got him wetter, still. The water splashed across his back, across his head, wetting his entire body.

  "I'm so sorry," he said. He looked sorry, too. Caroline couldn't have imagined what a sorry expression looked like on his face. Now she couldn't stand it.

  "Don't say that." Her voice sounded hard. She shouldn't be snapping. He did nothing to deserve it. But she snapped, all the same. "I don't like it."

  He let out a breath and pulled back. She wrapped a soaking arm around his neck, grabbed him by the hair and pulled him in closer.

  "Don't talk to me like there's something wrong with me."

  "There's nothing wrong with you," he said. He didn't just sound like he meant it. He sounded like he wasn't sure how she could have come to the conclusion. Maybe he wasn't.

  "Then don't look at me like that," she said. She tried to make it sound like an order, tried to make it sound like she had some measure of control over herself.

  His expression sank. "Then how should I look at you?"

  She looked at him, then, her own expression burning with emotions that she couldn't name. That she didn't necessarily care to. All she knew was that it was hotter than the water hitting her, and she needed it. Needed to get it out of her. Needed to keep it in.

  Her lips crashed against his and she pulled him deeper into the tub. He didn't react at first. His body was stiff and uncertain. That must have been a first for him, particularly where girls were involved. Caroline felt a visceral, animal satisfaction at that idea. The idea that she was his first at anything at all. Like she could claim it from him. The way he'd claimed so much from so many other girls.

  He didn't seem to need a second prompting, pulling away and peeling off the knit shirt that he wore, soaked most of the way through. He tossed it away and it was discarded in the corner.

  "Get up," he said. His voice was hard, now, commanding. He worked the clasp on his belt buckle, loosening it and then tightening it all again.

  "No," she answered. She looked up at him with wild eyes. "I'm not gonna."

  "You'd better get up," he said. The threat behind the words went unvoiced, but she shuddered regardless, enjoying the idea that he could threaten her. That he would threaten her.

  She knew he wouldn't put her at risk, and that only made the threat of trying something that much more enticing. To see where he would push her if she dared him. Knowing that he would push.

  "Don't wanna," she said. The feeling of lifelessness had faded, she realized, and it had been replaced with something else. It might have been desperation but she would take what she could get.

  "You won't like what happens when you're disobedient," he told her.

  "Oh yeah?"

  She climbed up onto her knees, leaning against the tub and looking up at him through her eyebrows, daring him to try something, anything at all.

  She dug her fingertips under the waistband of his underwear and looked at him, curving one eyebrow upwards.

  "What are you going to do about it if I don't listen?"

  He put a hand on her head and she knew immediately what his plan was. She pulled down and freed his hardened manhood from the offending garment.

  "What's this?"

  He looked down at her with an expression that bordered on scary.

  "You're about to find out," he said. One of his hands touched the side of her head, almost helping to guide it without giving her any instruction just yet. The other took one of the hands that hooked the underwear in his own, and she let him guide her on what to do next.

  29

  Caroline let Shannen guide her hand. She'd seen it all before, of course. There was no shortage of dirty magazines around, and no reason to doubt that she should be more than capable of figuring out how the interaction of a man and a woman would go.

  She'd learned a long time ago that reading things in books wasn't enough to teach you about the reality of the situation, and it was no doubt going to be the exact same here, as well. His hand guided her to his hardness. She'd felt it before, she knew, but this time seemed different. There wouldn't be any interruptions, and if there were, Caroline wasn't sure that she was going to let that stop her.

  This time was also different, she thought, because she could see better. No longer was his shaft stuck between them, her hand jammed in between to give him a little bit of pleasure.

  She moved her hand up and down, and his foreskin glided up and down the shaft. She'd never spent much time looking at men's cocks, but this was her first time seeing one uncut and it was strange, yet fascinating. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the undulating flesh. She didn't want to.

  His breath started to quicken. She could hear it in his voice, hear the arousal and how close he was to finding some answer to the need that was no doubt building in him the same way that it had built up inside of her.

  His hand, still holding her head, twitched, not quite pulling her towards his cock. She knew what he wanted, though, even if he wasn't going to ask her for it directly, and she moved closer, looking over. She took an experimental lick along the shaft and he shivered.

  Emboldened, Catherine let her tongue trace another line up and down his shaft, leaving a wet line. His fingers scraped along the side of her head, his fingers not quite clutching at her hair.r />
  "Jesus," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "That's…"

  "You like that?"

  He closed his eyes. "You know I do."

  "Tell me what you want," she said.

  "And you'll give it to me?"

  "Anything you ask me for."

  It occurred to her an instant after she said the words that there might be lines she didn't want to cross. She cast the thought aside. There might have been, but she wanted something else more. She wanted him to control her, to take her. She wanted to give herself up.

  Some part of her seemed to believe, distantly, that if she could only give herself up, she wouldn't have to worry about anything else. Her body ached at the thought, and she knew only one thing would satisfy that ache. Instead she opened her mouth and tried to take his shaft between her lips, careful to avoid her teeth scraping the sensitive flesh.

  Above her, Shannen gasped, and this time his fingers did dig into her hair, his need overtaking whatever self-control he might have tried to exercise otherwise. "That's it," he said as she bobbed her head deeper. "Just like that."

  She tried sucking gently, applying a little pressure as she pulled away, the head coming out of her mouth with a soft 'pop.' Then she took it back inside her mouth and moved her head again, moved it faster, taking him inside her throat, enjoying the sounds that he made as she did so. "You like that, huh?"

  He didn't answer, except in the way that his hips rocked to meet her mouth as she moved forward, taking more of him in. He filled her mouth, now, threatening to press into the back of her throat. She could feel him filling up her throat, could feel his hardness threatening to cut off the flow of air.

  She let it. The more that he moved the dirtier the felt, and yet at the same time the less that everything else that had happened mattered. The less that the rest of the world could affect her.

  He pulled her mouth off of his cock, and she looked up at him expectantly, her mouth lolling just a little open, knowing that in a moment she was just going to take him inside her again.

  "I'm going to fuck your throat now," he said. His voice was still low, still hoarse, still thick with need, and she didn't need to be told twice. "Open your mouth and hold still."