Night Moves

by Silver James

  “Did you feel it?” Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. I tipped her chin up, kissed the point of it then the tip of her nose, waited until her gaze was steady.

  “Yeah, Lainey. I felt it. I knew the moment I saw you that you were meant to be mine.”

  “This is happening too fast. I should worry about why that is, but I don’t care.” She rubbed her hand up my chest then locked her fingers around the nape of my neck. She fell back on the bed, bringing me up to land on top of her trembling body. “I don’t care,” she repeated and crushed her lips to mine.

  Lainey

  I WAS THE WORLD’S biggest idiot. But I didn’t care. I only knew I wanted to continue feeling this way, to have this sizzling flood of anticipation swamping my system.

  “God, baby.” Hollywood groaned in my ear, his erection grinding into my pelvis.

  I was in shock, as I opened my eyes to meet the intensity of his gaze. I felt…powerful. I had this man’s complete attention and desire. I’d never felt this way in my life. I wanted to be…I didn’t know what I wanted. Reckless. Yes. That’s what I wanted. For once in my life, I wanted to be reckless and take exactly what I wanted. I wanted pleasure and passion and ecstasy and all the things I had denied myself as I tried to be the good one, the responsible one.

  No more. Tonight was mine. Life had ground me down and now, when I should be in so much pain, I didn’t feel a thing. Yet, I felt everything.

  Hollywood was an outlaw. Wild. Free. He would never be tamed. Never be mine. I understood that. And I didn’t care. I wanted—needed this moment in time. I was going to grab on with both hands…okay, with one hand and four other fingers that I couldn’t really grip with. But this was my chance and injured or not I was taking it.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” The words grated out, intruding on my thoughts. I traced his jaw which was clinched so tight I could almost hear his teeth grind together.

  Then he spun away and I cried out. He moved so fast I lost what little breath I had left. A blink later, I was laying against the pillows, watching him kick off his boots and rip out of his jeans. Then he was back, his weight warm and heavy against me. I arched toward him, hooking my one good arm around his neck.

  “Easy, darlin’.” He murmured the endearment as he grabbed a pillow and eased it under my cast. Assured my arm was safe, he braced on his elbows, watching me.

  I waited. I didn’t know what else to do. He was so large, so…in charge.

  “We should talk.” His voice resembled a growl and his burnt umber eyes darkened. “I should be gentle and give you sweet words. That’s what you deserve.”

  I whimpered. I didn’t want those things. I wanted hard and fast and him buried deep inside me.

  “But I can’t. Not this time.” He dropped back to me, his skin rubbing against mine. He nuzzled his lips against my neck then sucked, like he was feeding from me. He traced the curve of my shoulder with his tongue, his hands touching me everywhere, arousing me. I moaned when his hand slid between our bodies. I pressed against it, rocked my hips. I was wet, needy. A scalding wave of pleasure burned through me as he pushed a finger inside my vagina.

  “Your pussy,” he snarled. “So fucking hot and wet for me.”

  He pressed his hips deeper between my thighs, spread me wide with a hand behind my knee and then the rounded crown of his cock was pushing into me. I think I screamed. I wanted to. It felt so incredible I could do nothing but breathe though the sensation. I shuddered and he stopped.

  “No,” I complained. “More.”

  He laughed, pushed in deeper. Slow. So freaking slow. He was torturing me. I looked up. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He was torturing himself too.

  “In me,” I ordered. “Now.” I grabbed his butt cheek and sank my nails in.

  He rammed into me and I couldn’t breathe again. I’d never been so full. My inner muscles were stretched to capacity, burning from it, but I didn’t care. I. Didn’t. Care. I rolled my hips, tried to curl away so I could arch back.

  “Be still,” he ordered, griping my hips with both hands to make sure I did as told. “Hungry pussy.” He laughed. “Greedy pussy.”

  His blunt words should have embarrassed me but they didn’t. Then he moved. Ohmygod, did he move.

  “Do things to me.” Was that me begging? “Do everything to me.” Oh yeah. That was me. I was lost in a raging flood of needs and greed, drowning in him. He moved over me, surrounding me with everything that was male. He was rough, as though I’d driven him beyond control, and I reveled in it.

  My lungs screamed for air and I panted, trying to get enough. My heart thundered so hard my chest hurt, and I was so hot I thought my skin might truly combust. Deep inside, my bones felt like they were melting. This feeling, him pounding into me, my desire quickening past the point of sanity…God, this was…he was glorious.

  His hands were so strong, his mouth ravenous as it moved over me, nipping, biting, kissing away the sting when the bite was too sharp. He’d taken me over, mind and body. But it was me, now, me who wanted—no, demanded it all. I wanted it now. All of it. All of him. I arched up, ground myself against him as he plunged in as deep as he could go. My vision blurred but there were rainbows and flashes of lights, like a prism catching the sun. Everything stopped. It was a moment of clarity—pure and stunning in the magnitude of feelings hovering there just beyond my reach.

  “Now, baby. You’re mine.”

  I saw him, suspended there above me, the planes and hollows of his face, the shadow of the stubble he never seemed to shave, and his eyes, wild eyes, focused on me. Something glinted in them, something feral like glimpsing a wolf under the light of a full moon, then everything went nuclear and I shattered.

  Hollywood

  I FELT HER climax in my bones when I claimed her. Ours, my wolf chimed in. He wanted to shift, to feel her fingers in his fur, to lick her face and sniff her, roll in her scent. When I saw awareness return to her eyes, I pumped into her again and again. Her shining blue eyes went smoky, going opaque an instant before I buried my dick balls deep in her greedy pussy and my face in her hair as I emptied into her.

  Her body was drenched and felt boneless beneath me. She was trapped under my body, her breathing ragged. Or mine was. I was so damn proud of the dreamy, sated look I’d put on her face, of her breathless whimpers. There was so fuckin’ much satisfaction in knowing I’d done that.

  “You okay down there?”

  She huffed out a deep sigh that pushed her tits tighter against my chest. “I’m not sure. I think I might have died and been resurrected. How ’bout you? Everything okay up there?”

  “I may have died with you, but I’m feeling okay about that.” I brushed my lips across her forehead. “Lainey.”

  Her eyes drifted closed, but she was still smiling. “Hollywood.”

  “We have to talk.”

  Chapter 14

  Lainey

  I HELD MY BREATH. We have to talk. A girl never wanted to hear those words, but right after the most mind-blowing sex she’s ever had? Worst possible time. All those wonderful endorphins fled, leaving me wrung out, on the verge of emotional overload and the compulsory tears that accompanied said breakdown threatening to engulf me.

  My right arm throbbed, reminding me that it was still attached, and I hadn’t had my requisite dose of pain pills.

  “Dammit, babe.” Hollywood growled at me as he rolled off and his feet hit the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting?”

  I stared at him and something snapped inside me—like my good sense. “Because I wasn’t until you jerked me out of a perfectly wonderful post-coital haze.”

  Did he look chagrined? I tried to keep my focus on his face, but he was standing there beside the bed in all his glorious nakedness. Holy Adonis but he was— My mouth dried up and my brain sort of stuttered before it ground to a halt.

  Still speechless, I lay limp while he maneuvered me under the covers and plumped pillows behind my back and shoulders, taking careful pains�
��pun intended—to keep my cast steady while he propped more pillows under it. Then he went and ruined it all by pulling on his jeans. That was probably for the best. He was too beautiful to look at. I worked up a little saliva and swallowed.

  He shoved his hands in his front pockets, pulling those jeans dangerously low on his hips. I went spitless a second time when I realized he hadn’t buttoned up all the way.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  My thoughts whirled with images of him on top of me again. Of his head buried between my legs, of my mouth on hi— What the…? I looked up at him and he was blushing. Honest-to-God blushing. Big tough biker boy was turning as red as a stoplight. Why?

  “You’re in pain,” he murmured then headed toward the living room. He returned in a few minutes with a chilled bottle of water, one of those paper envelopes the doctor sends home with a few pills inside, and his jeans buttoned and belt buckled.

  “Here.”

  I cupped my palm and he shook two pills out, then twisted the top off the bottle and handed it to me after I tossed the painkillers into my mouth. I drank and swallowed, realized how parched I was and kept drinking. His eyes were glued to my throat, watching me. Wow. How could that be a turn on? I had no clue but it was, as evidenced by the bulge in his pants. Which in turn, turned me on. When I killed the bottle, I set it on the bedside table and looked up at him.

  “So…we have to talk?”

  “Yeah.”

  He looked so uncomfortable standing there, all but digging a big toe into the carpet. I figured he was going to tell me he was married or something. Might was well get it over with. I patted the bed. “Sit down, Hollywood. I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”

  Sitting on the foot of the bed, he curled one knee up but kept the other foot on the floor. “So…there are some things you should know.”

  “You’re married.” I blurted it out, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

  He laughed, and combed his fingers through his shaggy hair. I wanted to do that—bury my fingers in his hair. “Yeah, I wish it was that simple.”

  “Oh crud. You’re already a bigamist?” I was only sort of teasing. What did I know of motorcycle club culture?

  “No, babe. Not…married.”

  I didn’t like the way he paused before he said the word “married.”

  “Yet.”

  Breathing around the tightness in my chest took real effort. “Yet?” My voice squeaked a little.

  He huffed out a breath and his hand snuck under the edge of the comforter to wrap around my calf. He seemed oblivious to his action so I didn’t point it out to him.

  “I need to tell you some things. About me. About…us.”

  “Is there an us?” I pressed my lips together. Why did I keep blurting this stuff out and interrupting him?

  “Yeah, Lainey. There most definitely is an us.”

  I inhaled. Okay. That was good, right?

  “There will always be an us. You’re mine.” He studied my face and I pretended I was playing poker—not that it would really help. “I’m a Wolf, Lainey.”

  My eyebrows pulled together despite my best efforts. So much for hitting the casino. Not that I would. Dealing with my mother’s addiction was more than enough hassle. Still, something about the way he said the word “wolf” made it seem important. Like it should be capitalized or in quotes.

  “Okay?”

  “The technical term is Lupi versi pellis. I carry an extra gene.”

  My brain got back on that hamster wheel. “Ohh-kay…”

  “You’re my mate, Lainey.”

  I felt the skin stretch around my eyes as they widened. And I forgot to breathe again.

  “Wolves mate for life.”

  I sucked in air and choked. Sputtering around the clog in my throat, I managed to ask, “What does all that mean?”

  His fingers tightened on my calf and trembled. What the heck? Was he nervous? Scared? Hollywood scared? That terrified me.

  “I carry a gene that makes it possible for me to shape shift. Into a wolf.”

  He was crazy. I was alone with a crazy outlaw biker who thought he could turn into a wolf.

  “No, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m a crazy outlaw biker who knows I turn into a wolf.”

  How did he know what I was thinking? I was still wrapping my head around that as he stood up, stripped off his jeans and…oh holy shit! His body contorted, did weird painful-looking things, and then I was staring at a wolf. A huge, dark brown wolf with golden-tipped fur. And his eyes—his big sad eyes—were burnt umber.

  I screamed.

  Chapter 15

  Hollywood

  LAINEY’S SCREAM HURT my ears and eviscerated my heart. She’d jerked as far away from me as she could get, scrambling back against the headboard, clutching the bedspread—and her knees—to her chest. The scent of ammonia burned my nose as fear rolled off her in waves.

  My front door slammed open and two sets of pounding feet raced to the bedroom door. A third set—lighter, daintier but just as determined followed.

  Easy and Sandhog slid to a stop. A moment later, Sam shoved her way between them. She assessed the situation in a heartbeat.

  “Well, damn. This didn’t go well.” She turned to push the two men out of the room, which was probably smart. I was barely hanging onto control in my wolf form. The animal damn sure didn’t like males anywhere near our naked mate.

  “Don’t close—” Easy started then Sam slammed the door in his face.

  Sam dropped the backpack she’d been holding on the floor at her feet. “Well, Hollywood. You really stepped on your poncho this time, dude.”

  I growled, even though she was right.

  “Yeah, yeah, you’ll huff and you’ll puff.” She rolled her eyes then promptly ignored me. “You would be Lainey. Hi. I’m Sam Cross, Easy’s mate. Old lady. Wife. Take your pick.” Sam laughed at the confusion and horror warring on Lainey’s face. “I’ll back up. You know what an old lady is right? In MC terms?”

  Lainey shook her head, her eyes darting between me and Sam. Shit. She looked like she was ready to jump out the window to get away.

  “Okay. MC 101. There are the—” Sam cleared her throat. “Women who hang around the clubhouse hoping to get…laid. By any of the members. Next up the ladder are the girlfriends. They’re sort of official but they come and go. Then there are old ladies. We’re property of a specific member. In my case, Easy.” She turned around to show off her colors. Her leather jacket had a top rocker that said “Property of,” with our wolf symbol patch in the middle, underlined by the patch with Easy’s name on it. “Nobody messes with me. Following so far?”

  If I hadn’t been watching closely, I would have missed the slight jerk of Lainey’s chin in the affirmative.

  “Good. Now, you can be an old lady without being a wife. Or a mate. Some of the brothers put a ring on their old ladies, making everything legal and official and stuff. Not all of them do and I’ve heard that sometimes, a member and his old lady will split up. They just go their separate ways, no harm, no foul. If they’re married, that’s not so easy to do. Yeah?” She flashed an encouraging smile. “Now comes the trippy part. Some of the Nightriders are Wolves.” She cut her eyes to me. “Since Hollywood is wearing his wolf form at the moment, I’m guessing he explained about that whole DNA thing?”

  Another quick jerk of Lainey’s chin.

  “Well, you know what they say about Wolves, right? They mate for life. When a Wolf meets his mate, he gets all…weird.”

  I growled again and Sam shushed me. “Don’t make me get a newspaper, Wood.”

  That startled a laugh out of Lainey. Progress.

  “Yes, dealing with a moonstruck Wolf emotionally is like potty-training a toddler in the terrible twos. Adapting physically is a whole ’nother story. These guys take sex to a whole new level.”

  I curled my lip at Sam’s description, though she was pretty close. A moonstruck Wolf was selfish, territori
al, cranky, and demanding. And we had a tendency to mark our territory. And we wanted sex with our mates. A lot of it and often. The scent of burnt toast cut through the ammonia. Good. I could handle Lainey’s anger better than her fear. Another aroma brushed across my nose. Almonds and coffee, tinged with a hint of musk. I breathed a little easier. We’d get through this.

  “Um…Sam? Right?” Lainey cut her eyes to me. “Can we…um…can we talk alone?”

  Sam tucked her chin to stare down at me. “That’s your cue, Wood. Drag your pants and your ass out of here. Change back. Get a beer. I’ve got your girl.”

  I whrffled, undecided. Newly mated as we were, my emotions were pinging around as much as Lainey’s. Well, Lainey’s were and I was getting the spillover.

  Lainey? I thought her name, projected it to her.

  Her eyes widened and the ammonia stink got worse. I’ll be right outside. I grabbed my jeans in my teeth and padded to the door Sam held open for me. I turned to look at Lainey. She hadn’t relaxed. No matter what, I love you.

  I padded through the door and Sam shut it behind me. In the living room, I shifted back to human and pulled on my jeans. Sandhog had disappeared back to his guard post outside.

  Easy handed me a beer. “Yeah, that didn’t go well.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. What was your first clue?”

  “Oh, the screaming, the cowering wolf—”

  “I was not cowering.” I growled and tilted my head toward the bedroom, trying to listen to the conversation. Sam had moved away from the door and was keeping her voice low. Bitch. But she was trying to fix my fuck up so I should be nice. Still, I needed to hear what they were saying. I killed the beer and headed to the fridge for a second. Then a third. I’d started my fourth before Sam opened the door and crooked her finger at Easy.

  Sam pressed her lips to his ear, spoke to him. Probably half their conversation was mind to mind, as mates did. I damn sure didn’t like the expression on Easy’s face. Sam planted a quick kiss on her mate, ducked back into my bedroom and shut the door.