Overdosed: Fury's Storm MC

by Zoey Parker

  Soon we were back at my house. Gabriel climbed from the bike, then unfastened my helmet and helped me off. I was shaky, still feeling the vibration between my legs. It hadn’t been unsexy, that was for sure.

  Only when we were inside did he speak to me again.

  “I’ll have one of my guys pick up your car, if you give him the keys,” he said. “I asked him to meet us here. He’ll have the windshield replaced for you tonight, and it should be back in your driveway tomorrow morning.”

  I was grateful to him, but couldn’t shake the impression that he was doing this because he knew one of his own was guilty of vandalizing the car in the first place. It was the least he could do, in other words. This was little consolation to me. He couldn’t bring my sister back, so I didn’t care much about a stupid car.

  Still, I had to get around, and didn’t feel like explaining to a body shop owner what the spray paint meant. “Thanks,” I mumbled, slipping out of my jacket and boots. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep forever. There was too much happening in my head and my heart for anything much to seep through.

  “Did you see anyone around the car when you first came out of the bar?” he asked. I shook my head. “No spray cans anywhere on the ground around the car?” Another shake of my head. I’d been hyper-observant in those first few moments, and I didn’t remember seeing anything or anyone out of the ordinary.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” he said, more to himself than to me.

  I only half-registered his words, but when I did, I looked at him. “What doesn’t?”

  “Huh?” He didn’t even know he’d spoken his thoughts aloud.

  “I said, what doesn’t make any sense?”

  “Oh…I was just thinking, what would make a person leave a message like that? It doesn’t make any sense. You were already…warned.”

  “Threatened, you mean.”

  He winced. “Okay. Threatened. Why did they have to do this, then?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I came too close already. Maybe they don’t like how close I am with you now.”

  He shook his head, sitting on the sofa with his arms outstretched to either side. He seemed to dwarf the piece of furniture. “No,” he said. “No one knows. At least, I don’t think they do.”

  “Are you going to tell me you don’t know who’s doing this? After I had a knife held to my throat, and now a threatening message left on my car? Are you seriously still defending this person and telling me you don’t know who they are? Come on. No one you know is that desperate?”

  “Let it go, Kat,” he said. He glared at me. “Let it go. Let that message be a final warning, and let it go. I don’t want to see you getting into this any deeper than you already have.”

  That wasn’t good enough for me. I threw my hands into the air and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. I couldn’t look at him right then. I’d gone from relief to disgust in record time.

  But he followed me. “You forget something,” he said. “You’ve been so focused on the club, you’re missing the chance that this has to do with some outside person.”

  “Oh, please,” I muttered, my back to him.

  “Why is it so easy to blame us, and so hard to believe it’s someone else?” he asked.

  “Because it’s so damned convenient!” I turned to face him and was immediately stricken by how close he stood. His presence threatened to overwhelm me, but I fought to keep control of myself long enough to speak my peace. “Why the hell would one of your buddies hold a knife to my throat, then?”

  “Did you see this person? Maybe it wasn’t even one of us!”

  “What fantasy world do you live in?” I spat. “Of course it was one of you! What, random people just happen to hang out in front of the bar you party in? Waiting for girls to come out so they can pin them to the side of the building and scare them half to death! Come on. I know who it was.”

  “Who?” His voice sounded different. Suspicious, almost.

  “The guy I talked to outside. The one with the cigarette, who looked like he hadn’t slept in days. I told you about him. I know it was him. He never came inside after I went in. He was waiting for me. Don’t ask me how I know this. I just do.”

  I watched as Gabriel’s face fell. He knew who I meant. I knew he did. He was just too afraid to tell me. It was hard to believe a man like him could be afraid, but there was definite fear in his eyes.

  The doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell,” I muttered, and I pushed my way past him to get to the front door. A man was standing there, wearing the same kutte as Gabriel did. He was a scary-looking man, but when his mouth opened to speak, he was very respectful.

  “I’m here to pick up your car keys, ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” I said, handing him the keys. “You can call me Kat.”

  Gabriel came up behind me. I tried not to tense when I felt his presence. “You and Mike, pick up the car and drop it off here when it’s ready.”

  “Sure thing,” he said to Gabriel. He looked at me. “I should have it back for you by morning.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t want to know exactly where he was taking it, just that it was getting done. Since when did I do business with criminals? Oh, right. Since they made it their business to screw with my life. I watched as he got into a car with another man, who I guessed was Mike, and drove away.

  I sighed. Now that our argument had ended, it seemed silly. I leaned my head back against Gabriel’s chest. “I’ve never felt scared like this before. Don’t you see? I have no idea how to navigate any of this. Who to trust, who not to trust, where to go from here. I have to trust you, and I do. But when I feel like you’re holding back from me, it’s not easy to do that.”

  His arms circled me. God, it felt so good when he held me like that. I felt like nothing could hurt me, as long as his arms were around me.

  “I know. I wish there were something I could say that would help you feel better, except that I’m doing my best to keep you safe. I swear it. You don’t have anything to worry about now.”

  I didn’t believe him, and I could tell from the sound of his voice that he didn’t believe himself.

  It didn’t matter at the moment. All I wanted at that moment was him. I had to feel him close to me, to wipe out all the worry and stress of the day.

  I turned to him, kicking the door closed behind me. He pushed me against it, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. When his head tipped down toward me, and our mouths met, it was like coming home again. Nothing else mattered when I was in his arms.

  His mouth moved slowly against mine, not roughly like it sometimes did. His kiss was sensual, getting me wet in moments. There was so much promise in his lips, and in his tongue as it pried its way into my mouth. I moaned when it touched mine.

  I felt like I might melt into a puddle, he so overtook me. The force of him. He was going to get what he wanted, but he took his time about it. I would have laid down right there and let him do whatever he needed to do, but instead of taking what I was happy to give him, he wanted to draw me further and further out until I was ready to explode.

  His tongue moved in slow circles against mine. I groaned again, desperate for more. I moved against him, bringing my leg up between his to rub against him. He laughed slightly, pulling away. I whimpered when his lips broke contact with mine.

  “You’re wild,” he whispered, his face close to mine. “I never would have thought that about you when we first met.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “You thought I was a prude or something?” My fingers traced a light pattern on the back of his neck, making him squirm and sigh.

  “Yeah. I should have known, though. You were such a hellcat. All that fire had to come out somehow.”

  I laughed, then sighed when one of his hands ran down my body.

  He lifted me to his waist, and my legs wrapped around him. Now I was wedged between him and the door, holding onto his body to keep from falling. His growing erection pressed against my crotch, and th
e pressure made me burn for more. He was so close, but so far away.

  We kissed again, harder this time. More urgently. Play time was over. We both wanted the real thing. I shrugged out of my cardigan, and his mouth was instantly on my neck and nearly bare shoulders. He slid down one of the straps and licked my skin. I groaned, humping against him.

  “Table,” I gasped, pointing to the kitchen. It was closer than the bed. He carried me to it, laying me across it. I worked on my pants while he worked on his. He didn’t even take off my panties, only pulling the fabric aside before he buried himself in me.

  “Gabriel!” I cried out, my back arching when he slammed himself home. I shuddered, nearly coming from that alone. He didn’t waste time, pounding me mercilessly. I urged him on, wanting him to take me harder and faster. I wanted him to lose himself, and make me lose myself. I wanted to forget everything around us. The harder he fucked me, the easier it was.

  “Yes! Yes!” I screamed, tightening around him as I came. My legs clenched around him, holding him deep inside me while I exploded.

  He waited until I finished, only to start moving again as soon as I stopped twitching around him. Now he took his time, grinding himself slowly into me. I groaned, this new sensation even better than it was before. I slid my tank top up and over my head, and instantly his hands were on my tits. I pulled him closer, deeper, with my legs. I wanted to close my eyes and lose myself, but then I would lose sight of the man who was giving me all this pleasure.

  “Feels so good,” I whispered, and was rewarded with a strong thrust which made me moan his name. Now I did close my eyes, throwing back my head. He pushed himself into me again and again, pushing everything else further away when he did. I wanted it. I was desperate for it. If only this would never end.

  He couldn’t keep up that slow pace for much longer, his own need for satisfaction too much to hold back. Soon he was driving himself into me again, harder, faster, deeper. He grunted as he thrusted, louder the closer he came to release. I moved with him, thrusting against him, wanted to come as much as he did. Then he moved so fast it was almost a blur, making me scream his name until my throat was hoarse as I came again. This time, he came along with me.

  It was all so good. I was floating in a deep darkness where there was nothing but pleasure. I didn’t want to open my eyes for fear of breaking the spell.

  But I had to, of course. And when I did, I found a god smiling down at me. Or an angel. A dark angel.

  He slid from me, and I tentatively sat up. We were both a mess, clothes everywhere. He was still wearing his t-shirt, but everything else was gone, strewn around the place. I couldn’t help laughing.

  Then he swept me up into his arms, carrying me upstairs and putting me on my feet outside the bathroom door.

  “You’ve been a dirty girl,” he said. “We need to clean you up. I wanna try a few things I was thinking about while I was in here earlier today.”

  Had that really only been earlier in the day? It seemed like a lifetime ago. I turned on the water, letting it run hot before stepping inside. I held out a hand to him, which he took after pulling his shirt over his head. His body never ceased to amaze me, with its rippling muscle. Strength ran through every bit of him—including the part that was now standing erect again. He was insatiable.

  I let the water run over me while I faced him. He watched, fascinated, as it made paths over my shoulders and arms, breasts and stomach, hips and thighs.

  Then I held out my arms, and he stepped into the spray with me. I rested the side of my head against his broad chest, that strong heartbeat reminding me of the strength of the man who held me. I didn’t have to be afraid of anything as long as he held on to me. I wanted him never to let go.

  Then his hands got busy, and other thoughts crept into my head. Those thoughts were already in his head, judging from the way his hard cock pressed against me. His hands went lower, taking hold of my ass.

  “Mmm…” I moaned, my head still resting against him. I closed my eyes, focusing on the way it felt when he groped me like that. The heat from the water wasn’t what made the heat spread between my legs.

  “So fucking sexy,” he muttered, playing with me. I sighed, swiping my tongue over one of his nipples, then biting down gently. He gasped, his length twitching against me.

  He spun me so fast I almost fell, but his strong hands caught me and held me upright. Then he was lifting one of my legs, placing my foot on the edge of the tub before sliding into me from behind.

  “Oh, fuck…” I moaned, taken by surprise by his forcefulness. Of course I wanted this, and I moved with him as he rocked me. “So good…”

  “Yeah…yeah, baby…” he grunted, driving himself home again. He reached around to my front, grabbing my breasts, playing with them as he thrusted. I moaned in approval. He pinched my nipples, and I cried out for more.

  “That’s right…fuck me…” I moaned, pushing back against him as hard as I could. He unlocked something inside me, something I never knew was there. Now nothing was enough. I needed him to give me everything he had, for as long as he could. Words I’d rarely spoken even in the height of ecstasy came flowing out of my mouth.

  When he sped up, slamming against me, I screamed and shook, falling against the wall of the shower. For a minute, all I heard was the running water and the sound of the two of us catching our breath.

  Then I felt his hands on me, and it was enough to make me straighten up and turn to face him. He was washing my body, slowly, gently.

  He’d soaped up his hands, and they glided over my neck, down to my shoulders, then down my arms. I lifted them so he could do the underside, then he moved further down to my sides. His hands were so big they could nearly circle my waist, and I closed my eyes at the feeling of them running over my wet skin. He was so big and powerful, but so careful with me.

  I sighed when he soaped up my breasts, the body wash making excellent lube. I opened my eyes, seeing the look on his face as he played with them. He squeezed and kneaded, stroked, tweaked. It was all heavenly, and I closed my eyes again to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

  Soon he moved further down, and I was ready for him. His hands cupped my butt, stroking it just as they had my breasts, his fingers dipping into my cleft. I cried out softly, holding onto Gabriel’s shoulders for balance as my nerves sizzled and burned under his hands.

  Then he moved to my legs, crouching to reach my feet. His hands moved back up, between my legs. He took more soap in his hands, then knelt.

  “Spread your legs,” he commanded. I did as I was told, lifting one foot up to the edge of the tub again. I watched as he washed me, his soapy hands skimming my sensitive skin. It was almost too much to take, between the sensation of being touched so intimately and the sight of his face when he did it to me. He was rapt with attention, his mouth open slightly as his breathing got heavier. When his fingers slid into my wetness, I cried out. He ran them over my folds, back and forth, driving me wild. I bucked against his hand, needing to come again, and he sped his motions until I was screaming his name. The sound echoed off the walls as my whole body shuddered.

  I couldn’t believe how many times I’d come already, my knees weak and shaking. I was dimly aware of him rinsing me off, then standing in front of me.

  “My turn,” he murmured. I knew what he meant. I squirted soap on him and ran my hands over his body, front and back. I loved having the chance to worship his beauty, the way he always worshiped me. I watched, fascinated, as my fingers trailed over his shoulders, his bulging pecs and washboard abs. By the time I got to his butt, so round and perfect, I was getting wet again. He did that to me. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he found a way to turn me on all over again. He didn’t even have to try.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered when my hand circled his erect member. I reached up with my other hand and pulled his head down for a kiss, holding him to me while I stroked him. My tongue darted around his mouth, licking his lips, tangling with his tongue. He
groaned, taking handfuls of my hair in his hands and pulling me from his mouth.

  “Suck it,” he grunted, pushing me to my knees.

  I didn’t feel threatened or forced—in fact, it turned me on even more when he told me what to do. I rinsed the soap from him and had him in my mouth in seconds. He cried out, thrusting into me.

  He was still holding onto my head, so I handed control over to him. He held me still at first, sliding in and out. I used my tongue on the underside of the shaft, pressing hard against it. He sighed, thrusting harder. I knew it was driving him crazy, and I loved knowing I could make him feel good.

  Then he moved my head back and forth on him, and once I got the rhythm he wanted me to keep he let go and I took over. He still gave shallow little thrusts into my mouth, but I bobbed up and down, doing most of the work. When I touched his balls, rolling them in my hands, it was enough to leave him groaning my name.