by Lacey Thorn
How was she going to hide an almost naked Utah when they stepped out of wherever they were? A fully dressed Utah would draw attention. In nothing but his tight black boxers? Anyone remotely close by would be drawn to look at him.
“Stay here.” He pressed her against the wall when they reached the top of the stairs and the closed door. He looked at her for a moment then bent and kissed her softly on the lips. He didn’t say anything else as he crouched down and slowly eased the door open. Her lips were still tingling from the brush of his when he disappeared.
She counted to a hundred, twice, then twice more as she strained to hear. She wasn’t sure what to listen for, running footsteps, the angry retort of a gun, a primal roar? She didn’t know what she feared most, but nothing reached her, only the sound of her blood beating fast thudded in her ears. Where was he? Was he okay?
She was just debating the necessity of following Utah through the door when it jerked open, and he was there. She barely held back her shriek of surprise as her heart beat impossibly faster.
“Calm down,” he soothed, rubbing his hand up and down her bare arm. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she mourned the loss of her sweatshirt. It’d been one of her favorites. “We’re safe for now.”
He’d found his clothes, and the feminine parts of her mourned that as well, though Utah looked just as sexy in his jeans and black T-shirt. He wore black boots now as well. So why hadn’t she heard him coming toward her? At six five and…?
“How much do you weigh?” The question spilled from her brain, off the tip of her tongue and into the air around them.
His hand automatically fell to his flat stomach as if she were calling him fat. “Two-forty-five.”
And it was all muscle. There’d been no missing that fact as he’d walked around in his underwear.
“Why?” he asked.
“I didn’t hear you coming.”
He grinned, and if she didn’t know better, she’d actually believe he might be flirting with her.
“I promise you, honey, next time I come, you’ll hear me.”
She nodded her head. It was probably due to the stress she was under. She needed to calm down her heart rate and breathing. She didn’t want anyone else to sneak up on them without her knowing. “Are they here?”
He gave her a strange look, as if he were expecting her to say something else.
“What?” she asked. “Are they here?” she asked again. “We need to go.”
He smiled and shook his head, lifting a finger to brush softly against her cheek. “We’ll come back to this conversation later, when we have more time.”
“What? Why?” Abby was almost choking on the terror someone would come in and find them. Harlan and Whiney with more men and weapons. Or maybe the cops who would lock them away when they found Southy downstairs. She couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Nothing.” He held his hand out to her, and she took it like the lifeline it felt like. “My bike’s out there. Bastards must have stolen it. I still can’t remember anything past leaving the bar last night after closing. I remember stepping out the back door and…nothing.”
“I remember sitting at home in my favorite chair and closing my eyes. Then waking up here, in that cell with you.”
“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Abby. First we need to get out of here. We’ll head to my place first. We can call the police from there. My phone wasn’t with my stuff.” He glanced down at her as he led them quickly through the building. Now she knew why it’d taken him so long to get back to her. He’d not only dressed but explored as well. He never faltered as he led her to the exit.
“I don’t have my phone on me either,” she finally managed to answer. She’d have to convince him not to call the police when they got to his place. Not when Utah would be the one arrested for murder. She had little doubt Harlan would wiggle out of this with no blame.
Utah blocked her against the wall again, as he slid the outside door open and glanced around the frame. “It’s clear. Let’s go.” He pulled her after him into an alley, where his big black bike sat ominously next to a huge green industrial trash bin.
“I’m surprised no one stole it.”
He glanced back at her as he used the keys he’d tugged out of his pocket and popped open a storage bin under the seat. “It was inside. I just moved it out. They must have been afraid of the same thing.” He pulled a black helmet free and tossed it to her. “Put that on.”
He straddled the bike, his back blocking his movements until the thrum of the Harley’s motor filled the air.
“Hurry up, Abby,” he prompted her, raising his voice to be heard over the bike. “Helmet and jump on.”
She quickly put the helmet on and fastened it as she eased on the bike behind him. She’d never ridden on a motorcycle before.
“Hold tight,” he urged as he took off.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him like a monkey, her breasts plastered against his back, her head tucked against his shoulder.
It was a few minutes before she felt safe enough to blink her eyes open and lift her head a bit to glance around. She had no idea where they were at first. Then she recognized the bar. He paused for a moment in the alley outside the back door. She swore she saw him sniffing before he shook his head and pulled away. He drove a bit further before creeping slowly into another alley and doing the same thing.
“What’s your address?”
She gave it to him eagerly. She wanted her journals, her research, her laptop, and another sweatshirt. All of it was awaiting her at her apartment.
He pulled into the lot of her apartment building, but merely slowed down long enough to do that deep inhale again. A rumble sounded in his chest, and she felt it vibrate through his back against her before he took off again. The next stop was a bank.
“Wait here,” he ordered as he sprinted inside.
She was shaking and doing her best not to. What was going on? Why hadn’t they stopped at her place? And had he really given a cat-like grumble that shook his chest? Or was her imagination working overtime?
He was back just as quickly as he’d left and they were off again. He didn’t say anything. Just drove and there wasn’t much she could do but cling to his back and watch the city fade behind them as Utah headed out of town. Her butt and thighs were groaning by the time he pulled into the parking lot of a motel. Not to mention, her bladder was begging for a restroom.
“Wait here.” He gave the order again as he walked into the office, leaving her on the bike.
“Wait here,” she mimicked in a very unflattering tone. She sat and waited and waited some more, before jerking the helmet from her head and shaking her hair loose. “Sure. I’ll just sit here on the bike, Utah. No, I’m good. Thanks for asking. Bathroom? No, my bladder is lined with lead and can hold water like no one’s business. Am I sore from the ride, you ask? Why no, no, I’m not. I’m sure I could ride for hours longer before the feeling is completely gone.”
A throat cleared, and she glanced up to see Utah looking at her with a spark of humor in his eyes. She just glared, but had a feeling the full brunt of her displeasure was lost on him.
“We’ll stop here for the night. Grab some food and sleep. And talk. I need some answers, Abby.”
He needed answers! He had no idea!
He stopped in back of the motel and parked the bike. Thankfully, he helped her off. She swore she was still vibrating in places that really didn’t need to be vibrating while Utah was touching her. Her legs were shaky, and he frowned down at her in concern.
“I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t think.”
“I’m fine.” She forced her legs to move as normally as she could manage as she walked beside him to the door of the room he’d gotten them.
He inhaled and seemed satisfied, at least enough that he swiped the card and pushed the door open. The room at least smelled clean. She did a quick scan and headed toward the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.
&nbs
p; “I’m going to run next door and grab some burgers and fries. Don’t leave the room. I’ll be back.”
She ignored him as she turned on the sink faucet to cover the sound of her peeing. Just in case he was waiting out there for her to answer him. When she finished, she washed her hands and splashed some water on her face before using the hand towel to dry off.
He was gone when she opened the door. They were going to need to have a talk about him ordering her to stay while he left. She wasn’t a pet, and she wasn’t going to be treated like one. She took in the huge bed in the middle of the room and did her best to ignore the fact it was the only one. There was a dining style table and two chairs over by the window and a bedside table with a phone on the side of the bed closest to the window.
Grabbing the remote, she turned on the TV sitting on the dresser across from the bed and flipped through the local channels until she found one playing the news. No mention of a dead body with its throat ripped out, and she was pretty sure a story like that would be all over the news if Southy had been found.
She paced the room, leaving the television on to soothe her nerves, as she finally let her mind replay what had happened.
Utah had ripped free of chains. Chains for Christ’s sake. And she’d checked them when she’d released the cuffs from his wrists and ankles. They had been solid. His eyes had been pure gold and angry, so angry. He’d roared, and it had almost taken her back to a day from her past she didn’t want to revisit. But none of that compared to watching him grab Southy by the neck and fling him as if he were a rag doll.
Though Utah had been slightly turned from her, she swore she saw claws emerge from the tips of his fingers just before he ripped Southy’s throat out. But she’d held his hand several times, and there’d been no claws. She’d cleaned the blood off with her sweatshirt and found nothing but his hand, big and powerful, but with nothing more than close-cropped nails.
She shook her head. She’d have to let the memory go for now and focus on what she could prove or disprove. She’d taken a good look at the remaining needles, and she thought she knew what Harlan might have hit him in the chest with.
Adrenaline.
Why would Harlan give Utah a straight shot of adrenaline? It could have killed him. It should have.
She sat down on the edge of the bed. Oh, God. She’d been right. She clasped her shaking fingers together and placed them in her lap. Utah Pearce was the direct descendent of the Tau.
She snorted. How many times had she heard his buddies call that name out to him?
Hey, Tah. You coming?
Tah, catch.
Bet you can’t tap that, Tah.
The last one about a leggy brunette she knew damn well he’d taken home with him that night. The only thing that made her happy was that no matter how many times the woman came back around, Utah didn’t take her up on her offer again.
Damn, Tah, she’s eating you up with her eyes.
She blushed as that comment went through her head. The guy had been talking about Abby. But Utah had just laughed it off and said she was probably looking off into space and he was just in the general direction. It’d hurt a bit to know he couldn’t even tell when she was looking at him. She’d been aware of every move he made. She’d been aware of the significance of them shortening his name from Utah to Tah. Who shortened a four letter name anyway? It was already short. But they had and there was power in that.
She rose from the bed again and decided to head back to the bathroom and the shower. She should wash her clothes out as well, at least her underclothes. She didn’t have anything else to wear now.
* * * *
Tah walked in to the sound of the shower shutting off. Part of him wished he’d made it back in time to step through the door and see if she’d let him join her. But he knew she wouldn’t. Abby wasn’t the type. She was a lot more naive than the women he normally hooked up with for a night. They knew the score whether they tried to make him think differently after the fact or not. He made sure they got off, several times, before he took his, and then he moved on.
He’d never felt the need for anything more. Until Abby. She might think he’d been unaware of her in that bar, but he knew every move she’d made while she’d been there. He swore she’d awoken some primitive caveman hidden deep inside him. He’d warned the other men to leave her the hell alone, and still, he’d sat back and watched, waited. He’d gone out of his way to appear to ignore her when all he’d really wanted to do was preen and posture in front of her, demanding she keep her eyes on him and only him.
He’d taken women home and gotten them off. But since Abby, he’d been unable to get off, unless she was the one filling his head, which made it damn hard to fuck another woman. No woman had ever gotten under his skin like this, and it was inconvenient to say the least.
He sat the food on the table and double checked the locks on the door, grabbing one of the chairs and lodging it under the doorknob before pacing the room. It was like he couldn’t sit still, like there was a caged beast inside him gnawing at his control. What the hell was going on? He needed answers, and he needed them yesterday.
The door opened and Abby stepped through the steam, wearing the thick motel robe. She was still using a towel on her hair, her glasses perched on that cute upturned nose of hers. She looked like a fairy, like a fantasy, and his blood filled his cock as need tore through him.
Fuck! He’d wanted her for a while, but never quite this deeply. He wanted to take her, bend her over the bed, and fuck her until she screamed his name.
“Utah?”
He loved the sound of his name on her lips, the caress she gave it with her voice. But it wasn’t quite right. “Call me Tah, Abby. All my friends do.”
“And are we?”
He lifted his brow in question.
“Friends?”
He nodded his head. Until he could convince her to be more, friends it was.
Her stomach growled.
“I brought food.” He pointed to the table, instead of pounding his fists on his chest like the caveman he felt like. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I just grabbed a few things. I had them put the veggies separately, so you could put what you wanted on your burger, and there’s little packets of ketchup, mustard, and mayo in there.” He pulled stuff out of the bags, his back to her, though he knew every move she made as if he were watching. “I got fries, onion rings, and cole slaw.”
“Jesus, Utah,” she exclaimed as she took in the food. “Is it just the two of us or did you invite the whole town?”
“Tah,” he corrected, not quite sure why it was important she call him that but understanding and accepting that it was. He shrugged his shoulders. “I eat a lot.”
She ran those blue eyes over him from head to toe. He heard her indrawn breath as she took in the bulge of the erection he couldn’t hide. He wanted her, and he was tired of pretending otherwise.
She cleared her throat and took the remaining chair at the table. She didn’t comment on his cock as she pulled a burger toward her and opened the other burger boxes with the veggies, picking out the things she wanted. Grabbing a packet of each condiment, she squirted them on before replacing the top bun. Then she groaned as she took a bite and chewed.
Utah almost swallowed his tongue. He really wanted to be the cause of those little sounds of pleasure.
“Aren’t you eating?” she asked as he stood there watching.
He nodded and went about fixing a burger for himself before sitting on the side of the bed and devouring it. He grabbed another and had it finished before she’d managed half of hers. “Isn’t yours good?”
She nodded as she swallowed the bite in her mouth. “Yes, but my appetite isn’t as big as yours. You really pack the food away,” she noted as he grabbed the last of the four burgers he’d ordered.
“I’m a big guy.” Why did he feel compelled to defend his appetite?
Her glance flicked down to his straining erection and skittered away before she
nodded in agreement. “Yes, you are,” she added under her breath, but he heard her and couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips.
“Anything?” he asked, nodding toward the television.
“I haven’t seen anything about Southy.”
“Southy? You knew him?”
She shook her head. “His voice sounded like he’d spent some time in the south. He wore boots,” she said it matter-of-factly as if that explained everything.
“The other one?”
“Whiney.”
He snorted at that. He’d be pissed if someone called him a name like that. “We need to talk, Abby.”
She nodded her head and put her hand up in a poor attempt to disguise a jaw-shattering yawn.
He twisted his neck, working the kinks out as best he could. “Maybe we need sleep first,” he admitted.
Her gaze fell to the bed then moved to the table as she began gathering up the trash. “About that…”
“About what?” he prompted when her voice tapered off.
She threw the trash away and turned to face him, picking up the towel she’d used on her hair and moving to cross the room. “The bed.”
He stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “What about the bed?”
“There’s only one.”
“The motel doesn’t have any double rooms.” At least as far as he was concerned. He hadn’t asked.
She narrowed her eyes at him as if preparing to call him a liar. He just crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her.
“I’m not comfortable sleeping with you.” Her voice was soft, and his gut clenched at the lost look in her eyes, at the hunger he could see, as well as smell. She wanted him.
He moved in, running his hands up her arms to bury in her hair. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t do anything to stop him when he lowered his head and took her mouth with his. He pressed his lips to hers, licked over her bottom lip and nipped it softly with his teeth in an effort to get her to open up for him.
When she didn’t comply, he worked his mouth along her jaw to her earlobe. His tongue flicked the lobe before he nipped it with his teeth, and Abby gasped. He pulled back his gaze latching onto the parted curves before he dove and took, his tongue surging past her lips and teeth to find hers and wrapping around it.
