He shrugged and leaned back against the bike. “Wasn’t my stuff. It’s one of those already furnished deals. This was supposed to be temporary.”
“Oh?” She was more interested in his muscular chest and the dark ink that decorated it. She hadn’t gotten a good look at it before, but now… she pushed his leather vest open further for a look.
“Yeah. Devil’s headquarters actually isn’t around here. The strip club’s just a place the VP owns on the side.” She traced the red and black lines of a skull in chains.
“Headquarters?” she mumbled, “What are you, a business?”
“Naw. We do business.”
“I’ll bet.”
His hand clamped around her wrist. She looked up in surprise. “Let’s not talk about the club.”
She nodded. He released her just as more people began filtering out of the building. “Is the fire spreading?” she asked. She’d thought the sprinklers would take care of it; she’d never imagined they might burn the whole place down.
“Doubt it. The sprinklers probably set off more alarms, though,” he said. He pulled a shirt from one of his motorcycle’s bags and threw it on under his cut. The sight of his bare torso disappearing beneath the fabric made her fingers itch to peel it away and touch him again. Better not. We might cause a car accident this time. Or a tornado. She giggled to herself, and he smiled. “Okay, I definitely didn’t take you for the giggling type.”
“I used to have a sense of humor,” she said, frowning.
“And?”
“I don’t know.” She hitched one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “I think after everything that happened with my dad, I sort of thought nothing could be funny again. After everything he did… and now that he’d dead….” She blew out a breath. With all the threats, the running, fleeing across the country, then the shooting and everything since, she hadn’t been able to grieve at all. Not that the old bastard deserves much. Still, he was her father, and now he was gone. Just because they’d had a lousy relationship didn’t mean it wasn’t sad.
"I get it," he said, then nodded towards the bike. "May as well hit the road."
"You aren't too tired?" She climbed on after him, snapping his helmet beneath her chin.
"Not yet. We'll make a pit stop or two." He revved the engine. "Hold on." She knew better, now, and wrapped her arms tight around his waist. Everything he did, he did fast and hard - everything from punching Colin, to making her come, to peeling out of a parking lot. He had an explosive energy that reminded her at times of her family, her father - but with none of the manipulation, none of the deceit, none of the all-consuming ambition that had eventually torn the family apart.
Gunner was just Gunner and made no claims otherwise. It was refreshing after so many years of playing polite around her father and his type. It almost made her want to stick around, if it wasn’t for all the danger she was in. Maybe big cities, big money, big names aren’t for me after all. I never did quite fit in. She did fit there on the bike, though, wrapped around Gunner’s back. A little too well.
◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙
The highway disappeared beneath them as they sped further and further away. The small town gave way to trees that seemed to have no end in sight. He did say six hours, I think. Damn. As they drove for miles while the sun sank lower and lower, she wondered how he managed to keep going. After all the excitement of the day, the fear, the adrenaline, she was exhausted herself. And she wasn't even doing the driving.
She shifted around on the seat to try and restore some life to her tired brain and sleeping legs. The sun had fully disappeared and the sky was gray with the dying light.
Finally he turned from the highway and swerved down an exit ramp.
Thank God. It had been about two hours, according to her watch. She was beginning to feel stiff all over. This sure isn't as easy as being chauffeured in a taxi.
He pulled to a stop in front of a tiny diner. "You shouldn't squirm around like that," he said. "Just tap my arm if you need a break." Inside, they were pointed towards one of the four booths by a smiling, grandmotherly waitress.
"I didn't need to stop, I was just getting a little stiff."
"Reason enough." He thanked the waitress as he took the menus from her and passed one to Senna.
"Coffee?" the woman asked, and both nodded.
Once the waitress walked off, he leaned out of the booth and turned away as he listened to messages left on his phone. Not more bad news, I hope.
"You'll love this," he said, holding the phone away for a moment. "That suit got a look inside the room and found Jupiter still untying himself."
Senna barked a short laugh. "I can't believe he came looking for me after what you did to him."
"Must mean his boss scares him more than I do." He cracked his knuckles. "I'll fix that next time I see him."
“Did Jupiter tell him anything?”
“Just to go fuck himself.”
The waitress returned and took their orders - burgers, because they seemed the safest in such a run-down place - and Gunner turned his attention back to his phone.
He didn't like whatever he heard in the next message. His face visibly paled. One moment he was holding it to his ear; the next he'd hung up and slid it down the table away from him as if scalded.
"What is it?" She asked, her stomach sinking. He looked like he was going to be sick.
He shook his head.
She didn't want to pry but he was scaring her. "Is it something I should be worried about?"
"No. It has nothing to do with you." His tone was completely changed - low and flat.
They ate in silence. He eyed his phone as if it was going to jump up and bite him. Something happened. Something bad. He'd had that same look on his face back at the hotel before she'd kissed it away - that hollow expression, as if he wasn't even there.
It scared her. Not that she knew him so well, but it didn't seem like him at all.
He finished eating before her, and he pushed his wallet across the table. "Take your time," he said, "Get dessert. I need to deal with this." He gestured at the phone before snatching it up and heading outside.
"Everything okay, honey?" the waitress asked. It was a long moment before Senna could peel her eyes from the door.
"Yeah. Thanks." She tried to relax back into the seat. "What kind of pie do you have?"
She didn't really want it, but it seemed like Gunner needed some space just then. So she ate the blueberry pie - decent, though she could barely taste it - and checked her email on her phone. Another threat. Nothing new. From some address that was just a string of nonsense numbers and letters, it simply said, “We know where you are.”
Is this how that Colin guy found me? It's a new phone but could they get access to my location through my email? It was paranoid and ridiculous to imagine, but they’d had to do something pretty drastic to find someone who was only paying with cash on the way across the country.
Finally, she couldn't make herself stall anymore. She paid the old woman and with her heart thudding, stepped outside to find him.
He was leaning back against his bike and smoking a cigarette, staring out ahead of him at nothing.
"Hey," she said, careful to keep her tone neutral. She didn’t want to spook him and get him more upset.
He flicked the cigarette away and didn't look at her. "Ready?"
He drove as if they were fleeing. He drove like the devil on his vest was nipping at his heels. He took the highway's curves so fast she could have touched the asphalt as they banked. She was tempted to signal him and ask him to stop - they were going much too fast. The engine’s roar was deafening. She clung to him for dear life and clenched her jaw, hard. What the heck is he doing? Are we in this much of a rush? He was so tensed up that she felt like she was hanging onto a block of stone. What the hell is going on?
Her chest constricted as she realized he was screaming.
He pulled over onto to the side of the road a moment later. She climbed
off her seat after him; he tried to set down the kickstand with his foot but after missing twice, he let the bike fall into the grass at the side of the road and walked away, tearing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket with shaking hands.
"Where are you going?" she called at his back.
"Taking a piss." He turned away from the road and disappeared into the darkness between the trees, branches crashing as he went.
She rubbed her arms - it was a warm night, but they were covered in goosebumps. What the hell happened? Something was terribly wrong - it has been all over his face when he'd returned for her at the motel and she’d caught a few glimpses of it since then. It wasn't any of her business, but their intense physical attraction was making it difficult to remember that he was practically a stranger. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and soothe all those troubles away, whatever they were.
Son of a bitch. I'm falling for a biker.
The road was dark. The bike's headlights were out, and as clouds drifted across the sky, they began to blot out the moon. "Gunner?" she called tentatively. She was a city girl - she didn't know what sorts of animals lived out here or how likely they were to attack. She began to imagine the eyes of predators all around. Maybe she could bluff her way out of a confrontation with an angry human by keeping her cool, but a hungry animal was a different story. "Gunner?"
She stepped away from the road, aiming her feet in the direction he'd gone. It was darker between the trees and she could barely see far enough in front of her to avoid walking into branches. "Please don't leave me alone out here," she called, praying no animal with big teeth would take that as a cry of distress. Though I suppose it is.
She put her nose to the air, catching hints of cigarette smoke and leather, but she couldn't discern where.
Finally, he spoke, somewhere off to her right. "I'm here." She turned and could see the light as he took a drag of his cigarette, casting an orange glow over his stricken face. She remained where she was, wary of his mood.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
His face contorted into a rictus of pain and he slammed the tree before him with a fist.
A sane woman would have run. She would have taken the bike and risked crashing it to get away from him - an armed man on the edge; nearly a stranger, definitely violent and probably a criminal.
Senna was certain she'd lost her mind as she crossed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his waist. Our troubles are mingling and breeding more troubles but it looks like neither of us are letting go anytime soon.
"You can tell me," she whispered as she listened to the sound of his racing heart and sharp breaths.
Finally he reached around her back and held her tight against him.
"Is it something to do with me?" she asked again, "Or that shooting I heard?" And saw. It made her nauseous to think about, so she pushed the thought away. The memory would just have to haunt her later.
"Unrelated." He sighed. "A friend... he shot himself." She cursed softly under her breath. "He was more like a brother, really. More than my own blood ever was."
"Army?" she asked, and felt him nod. She squeezed him tighter. "Gunner, I'm so sorry."
"Sorry." His laugh was bitter as he stepped out of her embrace. "You don't know sorry. You can't even begin to know."
"You're right." She kept her feet planted where they were as he paced before her in the dark. "What can I do?" Her own fears and problems paled and faded into the background.
"You can get out of my head!" he shouted. "I don't have enough shit to deal with?" He stabbed at his temple with a finger. "You've burrowed in there like a fucking parasite. I'm alienated from my club, my friend is dying right this minute, and all I can think about is murdering that fuck that threatened you and then climbing inside that hot little cunt of yours."
She dug her nails into her palms to keep them from shaking. Fear and arousal coursed through her in tandem. "Well. You've got me all fucked up, too."
Maybe it was because she rarely cursed, but it seemed to get through to him. He stopped pacing, at least. "You should go see him if you can," she said softly. "If he's dying right now. I'll go with you if you want me."
He was on her in two strides, lifting her and pressing her back against a tree. He pulled her legs around his waist and growled into her ear before she could even take a breath. "I want you," he said. "As soon as you realize how bad this is for you, you’d better disappear from here. But until that day, I'm taking you. You're mine. Got it?"
He gave her no chance to reply, though she wasn't sure what response to give. Not until his lips crashed onto hers - then the only answer was, "yes, yes."
It had broken her heart to see him so torn up, but she could only think of one way to comfort him.
"Take me," she whispered against his ear. She clasped her thighs tighter around him. "Right here. We don't know what will happen when we reach your home." His lips grazed her neck.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
"I know. But we'll have to face your club. I'll have to face my sister, you'll have to face your friend. Take me while it's still just us."
She felt feverish as they tore at each other's clothes. Though they'd fooled around earlier, they'd never managed to get each other fully undressed. When he pulled her against him, bare skin against hot, bare skin, it was erotic and somehow comforting at the same time. Her head sank against his shoulder and she thought, I fit here way too well.
He seemed to feel similarly, crushing her tight against him and simply holding her there, breathing hard but making no move to rush despite his erection nudging her belly.
His hands warmed her back as they roamed. "Fuck," he muttered, "You feel so fucking good."
She kissed his neck, tasting his skin, salty and simply masculine. It inflamed her desire, and her hand snaked between them as she left a wet trail leading up to his mouth. "Take me," she whispered again. Her fingertips brushed the head of his cock, already damp with his fluids, and she gasped. She didn't think she'd ever needed anything so badly in her life.
He was uncharacteristically silent. With barely a grunt, he wheeled her around and trapped her hands above her head, pressing her into a tree. She squirmed, rubbing her ass against his erection. Yes, finally.
His free hand curved around her waist and he pulled her bottom half out, lowering her trapped arms as he positioned her, back arched and ass presented. If it were light out, she had no doubt he’d be able to see her pussy this way. It was hot, and vulgar, and she tingled all over. Her breath came out in pants. Moisture seeped from her lower lips as his hand roamed her cheeks and his fingers dug in.
Then his fingers moved lower and traced her slit, delving deeper as she moaned at his touch. The hand around her wrists gripped tighter as she tugged against it. He was hilariously stronger than her - she may as well have tried to push over the tree itself. There was something hot and wild about being so trapped by him, and she moaned his name.
He answered with a hot breath slowly exhaled against her neck as he slid two fingers deep inside her. She cursed as she rocked back against him, drawing him even deeper. Soft, mewling sounds escaped her as he stroked her over and over, expertly rubbing her g-spot, building her pleasure higher and higher. She groaned in frustration when he abruptly withdrew.
“Wider,” he breathed, and she set her feet further apart, her knees weak with anticipation. Finally, finally. He probed her wet entrance with the tip of his cock. She briefly wished that she could see him - he did like demanding that she look at him, and though she’d mentally protested at first, she’d begun to love the erotic intimacy of it. It was too dark where they were, anyway, and simply feeling him was more than enough. As he slid himself inside her, she could feel every delicious inch, stretching her, filling her in a way she’d never experienced. She held her breath as he rooted deep - and finally released her wrists.
He groaned, "What the fuck are you doing to me, woman?" One hand held her hips still; the other
found a breast and kneaded the soft flesh. He feels it, too. Whatever madness that's infected me, it has him.
"Use my name, Gunner," she said, her voice strained.
He pulled back and surged inside her once, hard, making her gasp and bringing on a fresh flood of arousal. "I give the orders."
"Please," she said. It took a moment to regain her voice. He withdrew and tortured her with shallow thrusts. "I want to know that you know who you're fucking." This was beyond "fucking," as far as she was concerned. This was a whole different level.
"Senna," he hissed, caressing the word as if he could taste it. "You think I'd forget?" He thrust hard, filling her, angling for her g-spot, and she saw stars. Then again, and again, building her pleasure once more.
She gasped and cried out between her words. "I know you know. I -ah, I just want to hear it."
"Senna," he hissed again. He took up a faster pace as he pinched and tugged her nipples, one and then the other, driving her wild. She felt like all her nerves were on fire; she pushed back against him and lifted onto her toes.
Without pausing, he released his bruising grip on her hip and reached around her waist. She jumped when his finger slicked across her clit. He stroked the sensitive bud with a light touch, but it wasn’t enough, and it was too much, in combination with all the other sensations pulsing and throbbing through her like a drumbeat, accelerating towards her inevitable climax.
"Come for me, Senna," he growled.
Fireworks. Her orgasm sent sparks of pleasure burning and crackling through her limbs. Her pussy clamped down on his cock over and over, making him groan until he hurriedly withdrew. She cried out at the loss, though she still rippled with waves of bliss. I'm going to fall. But Gunner was there, sweeping her off her feet and laying her out on her back.
"Oh, God," she groaned, covering her eyes. She must have looked and sounded like a woman possessed by demons.
"Don't," he said, pushing her arm down, "I want to see you."
When she opened her eyes, she found him shining his phone's flash light between them. It cast dark, eerie shadows on his face, but she could see him clearly. The hunger in his eyes made her breath catch.
Devil's Fall: Dust Bowl Devils MC Page 9
