Deviant

by Gemma James

  When the heart bled, there wasn’t an easy fix. You couldn’t just patch it up with a bandage and move on. And maybe that was our problem. Heartache, even when purposefully ignored, had a way of catching up.

  “I need all of you, Rafe. But you won’t budge. You carry the burden of the past by yourself. You won’t let me share it with you.” I dropped my gaze as a lump formed. “And you say I’m yours, but you won’t even make it legal.”

  “What if we did make it legal?”

  I studied his face, my breath catching in my throat. He seemed sincere, but I couldn’t help but question his motive, because he’d made it clear he didn’t want a wedding.

  No ceremony.

  No piece of paper he deemed worthless.

  His no had been absolute, refusing to change to the yes I longed to hear.

  “You don’t want to marry me, so why the 180 now?”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” He brought his body flush with mine and tangled his fingers in my hair. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re already mine. You’ve been mine since the day I took you. I don’t need a fucking piece of paper for that to be true.”

  “You’ve already told me this a hundred—”

  “But you do,” he interrupted. “Need it, I mean. If getting married will prove to you that I’m here to stay, then I’ll do it.”

  “No,” I said, wresting free of his embrace. “I want you to marry me because you want it, too. Not because you’re placating me.”

  He gripped me by the shoulders and forced me over the end of the mattress. “Stop jerking away from me,” he said with a low growl, inching his fingers up the backs of my thighs. A shiver went through me as he dragged up my skirt. He exposed my bare ass, and his palm came down hard, sending a satisfying smack roaring through my ears.

  “I’m not placating you, Alex. It’s true I’ve got hangups about marriage. My mom walked, regardless of that fucking ring on her finger. But if making it official will make you happy, I’m in.”

  I closed my eyes as shallow breaths puffed onto the comforter, backside tingling from his tease of a spanking. And God…I needed more. “You won’t resent me for it?”

  “Fuck no, baby. As long as the important stuff doesn’t change. But if you let marriage change shit between us, I have a piece of ginger with your name on it.”

  I flexed the muscles in my ass at the thought. “The only thing that will change is my last name.”

  His breath hitched. A second later, I heard the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle, followed by his zipper. “There’s no way I can hold off fucking you now.” He thrust into me, filling me in a single plunge, and I muffled a groan into the bedding.

  “Give me your hands.”

  We both knew he could take them. But he craved my submission as much as I needed to give it. I brought my hands to my back, and his large fist clamped around my wrists, holding them in place at the bottom of my spine.

  “Rafe,” I said with a gasp, angling my hips to bring him deeper. “Can I come?”

  “No.”

  “Please!”

  “I said no.” A smack to my ass punctuated his final answer. The rhythm of his thrusts increased, and as night chased away the last of daylight, he came before I could find the release I so desperately needed.

  With a groan, I sank deeper into the mattress, fighting tears of frustration and anger. “Why are you torturing me like this?”

  Tugging on my hair, he yanked my head up, and his immovable hand wrapped around my throat. He didn’t even give me time to beg for air. One minute, I was a boneless mass of want and need on the bed, and the next I found myself emerging from blackness.

  Then he was gone from where I lay, the door quietly shutting upon his exit, and there was no mistaking the cold metal that shackled my ankle.

  6. Bad News - Rafe

  Something crashed on the other side of the wall, followed by a full minute of pounding on the door. I dragged a hand through my hair as Alex screamed for me from the bedroom. This was beyond cruel, but my gut told me she needed to face the pain haunting us in that room.

  Then she needed to accept that I wasn’t going anywhere.

  But fuck, she was going to tear me to shreds after it was all said and done. Unable to take any more, I dashed out the front door, screen slamming the outside wall in my haste, and headed for the Jeep to begin unloading.

  If her hysterics were any indication, we were going to be here a while, so we might as well settle in. After hefting two duffle bags onto my shoulder, I headed inside and prepared myself for the verbal barrage coming at me through the walls. If I didn’t know better, I’d think a stampede of bulls were going at it in the bedroom.

  “Rafe!” she screamed as I set our bags on the floor. “Let me go, you fucking ass!”

  I couldn’t help but smile a little. Christ, she was pissed. I glanced down the hallway, and part of me longed to go to her and gather her in my arms. Put her fears to rest.

  Fucking hell, I wanted to give in.

  Don’t do it, man.

  The voice in my head was right. Alex didn’t need to be coddled. She needed to be challenged, and I didn’t have the fucking patience to let her play the poor me card. I’d made mistakes, but so had she. It was time to stare the consequences dead in the eye and come out on top anyway. Her inner strength would carry her through if she took the initiative to find it.

  I returned outside to grab another load, and halfway to the Jeep, my back pocket shrilled. I pulled out my cell and swiped my thumb to the right.

  “Are you still camping?” Jax asked, bypassing a hello. I hadn’t talked to him in a couple of weeks since the last time Alex and I went to the nearest town to re-up on essentials. Our reclusive spot in the woods hadn’t had a cell signal.

  I kind of missed that now.

  “Hello to you too.” Tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear, I hauled the cooler from the Jeep’s cargo space and set it on the ground. “We packed up camp,” I answered. “Figured it was time to move on. Why?”

  “Where’re you at?”

  “Just got to the safe house about an hour ago.”

  His fast exhale whooshed out over the line. “So you’re still off the grid.”

  “For now. I decided to take a detour before heading home.”

  “Good. Stay put, okay?”

  Narrowing my eyes, I slammed the back of the Jeep shut. The camping gear could wait until morning. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I’ll explain when I get there.”

  “Explain now.”

  He hesitated, and I was about to ream his ass, but his words iced my veins instead. “It’s about Alex’s old man.”

  “What’s going on, Jax?”

  “Just sit tight until we get there tomorrow, okay?”

  “Hold up a second. We?”

  Three beeps ended the call. The fucker hung up on me in typical Jax style, and I cursed him for putting this place at risk by bringing company. What was the point of having a fucking safe house? Trying to find a shred of patience, I tilted my chin skyward and took a deep breath. The night’s first stars twinkled overhead, but the universe didn’t hold the answers to dealing with asshole friends and melting down women.

  I lugged the cooler into the cabin and put the perishables away in the fridge, then I unpacked my laptop and took a seat in the living room. I knew Jax as well as I knew myself, down to the ink on his skin and the tone of his voice.

  And his habit of keeping up with local news.

  Whatever he was holding back was bound to be on the Internet. I fired up the computer, foot tapping at the horrendous snail-like speed of my cell’s hotspot out in the middle of these woods. Loss of modern conveniences were a tradeoff for living off the grid.

  Or as close to off the grid as we could get without living like primitives on the edge of a lake.

  I pulled up a search of local news and scrolled through the info, looking for anything relating to Abbott De Luca. Alex had fallen sile
nt, no more crashes or fist-pounding or screaming coming from the bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d fallen asleep already. Darkness had set in, only chased off by a soft light coming from the kitchen. It was late, and she’d had a long day. I’d bent her will, then pushed even further before we’d packed up camp.

  And I was still high from taking that switch to her skin. I’d already fucked her three times in the last twenty-four hours, but my dick wanted more.

  Always more when it came to Alex.

  More pain, more tears, more howls of ecstasy.

  She wanted more, too. She wanted to exchange vows and take my last name. Goddamn, that turned me on like crazy.

  Alex Mason.

  Mine.

  Her last tie to the De Luca name severed.

  Forever.

  A photo on the screen slammed my thought processes to a halt, and I drew in a sharp breath. Her father’s frowning face stared at me, accompanied by the headline that he’d been released from prison early on good behavior.

  This was the last thing we needed right now. Abbott De Luca had the power to fuck up my life all over again, only this time it would be for something I’d actually done. I’d kidnapped Alex, and if he brought that to light, I could kiss my exoneration goodbye and say hello to a new prison cell. Alex wouldn’t go along with him this time, but the man still had some clout, or he wouldn’t be out of prison so soon.

  And then there was Zach’s claim that Abbott was behind the death of Alex’s mother, but without proof, her old man was just another common criminal. Corporate crime was a far cry from murder.

  This could send her over the edge.

  I set the laptop aside and ran my hands down my face, mind racing with the what-ifs. Reckless decisions were part of her DNA. But at the root of her soul, she was brave and as stubborn as a mule. She wouldn’t back down until she got the closure she wanted, and if she found out her father was a free man, I had no doubt she’d go after the answers that had been plaguing her, regardless of the danger he posed.

  She needed a damn distraction.

  Like a fucking wedding—something to keep her focused and safe from rash behavior. I’d let her stew in the bedroom for the night, then I’d give her what she wanted.

  And while she was preoccupied with dresses and flowers and champagne, Jax and I would figure out what to do about Abbott Fucking De Luca.

  7. Breaking the Shackles - Rafe

  The next morning, Alex launched a table lamp at my head as soon as I opened the bedroom door. I ducked, and the thing ended up in pieces on the floor in the hall. She stood on the other side of the messy bed, her eyes a deep shade of green I’d come to recognize as dangerous. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, catching the natural highlights in her dark curls from our weeks spent in the summer heat.

  “How could you?” The accusation was a snarl from her kissable lips, but underneath the vehemence in her tone, I couldn’t ignore the hurt. She glared at me, her tits heaving underneath the tight material of her tank top. I was tempted to punish her for putting it back on.

  “Babe, calm down.”

  “Calm down?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “You left me chained to the bed all damn night. Alone.”

  It was the alone part that pushed her buttons, just as I anticipated. She was a spitfire of anger and indignation, but behind the facade lived a girl afraid of abandonment. Alex could stand on her own two feet—I had no doubt about that—but her fear of being alone without me was the catalyst for rattling her apart.

  She picked up the clock from the nightstand and hurtled it through the air.

  Taking cover once more, I rounded the bed and backed her into the wall next to the bedside table. I shoved her hands to the wall and scanned her arms for fresh scratches, but there were none. Despite facing the night alone in this room, chained to the bed, she hadn’t harmed herself, and that was a positive sign.

  The bedroom, however, hadn’t escaped unscathed. She’d toppled over the chair in the corner, rifled through the dresser drawers, leaving clothing and kinky shit strewn about, and now that I caught a whiff of the crisp morning breeze, I realized she’d broken a window too.

  “Are you done throwing your little tantrum now?”

  “Not even close,” she hissed.

  “Good.”

  Her eyes widened, jaw going slack. “What?”

  “That’s right. Good. I’m glad you’re angry. Be angry.” I narrowed the inches between us and pinned her with my stare. “Be so fucking pissed at me that you want to take my head off with flying objects.”

  Considering the lamp and clock hadn’t met her wrath during the night, I assumed she’d saved them for me. Or more accurately, my fucking head.

  She blinked, and I licked my lips at the sheen of tears collecting in her eyes. “Don’t fuck with my head, Rafe.”

  “It’s too late for that.” I laced my fingers with hers. “Our heads are beyond fucked.”

  “Why are you doing this? Can’t we…let’s just go back to camp.”

  Returning to camp would keep her safer, but letting the past dictate our every move had to stop at some point.

  “It’s time to get our lives back, sweetheart, and we can’t do that until you deal with whatever it is you’re avoiding.”

  “I don’t want to deal with it!”

  “Tough shit, Alex.”

  She fought my hold, putting all her weight behind trying to fend me off. I slammed her hands to the wall again and silenced her startled cry with my mouth. As I thrust my tongue past her resistant lips, our fingers flexed, pushed, pulled. Her needy whimper threatened to tow me under.

  I broke away before I lost myself in her devious kiss. “Don’t fucking move.” I kept my eyes on hers as I bent and freed her from the shackle. The metal barely clanked on the floor before she took off. I grabbed her by the ankle, and her forward momentum brought her to the floor with a brutal thud. As her shrieks pierced my ears, I escaped the thrashing of her unrestrained leg by an inch. With a rough yank on her ankle, I dragged her closer, her body sliding across the hardwood with little effort despite the way she fought me.

  “Let me go!”

  Crawling over her, I pinned her lower body to the floor with my thighs and forced her hands to the hardwood on either side of her face, our fingers interlocked. “Yesterday wasn’t enough? You want to play again?”

  “Fuck you.” The scorching fire in her gaze rushed through my veins. I found anger in her eyes, but underneath that, her diatribe singed with literal meaning.

  “Are you wet, baby?” I pushed against her pelvis, all too aware of how her skirt had gathered around her hips during our fight. “Cause I’m happy to oblige.”

  “Fuck you, Rafe.”

  A quiver took hold of her lower lip, and she pulled it between her teeth. Then she blinked, her lashes fluttering as fast as a butterfly’s wings, as if holding back the burn of liquid pain.

  “Don’t you dare hold back your tears.”

  “Don’t you dare chain me to the bed again. Not here.”

  “That’s exactly why I did it. And you know what?” I lowered my face until our foreheads touched. “I’ll do it as long as it takes. Tonight. Tomorrow. The day after.”

  A quick shutter of her eyes forced the tears out. I watched them slide down her cheeks, entranced for a few moments before I licked up the salt of her despair, of the baggage she couldn’t let go.

  “And I will always come back, baby. Just like I did this morning.”

  “That’s what you said last time.” Her accusing tone pummeled me square in the chest.

  “That’s the thing about second chances.” I closed my eyes and ran my nose alongside hers, breathing her in. “We don’t have to make the same mistakes again.”

  “No more chains.”

  “I can’t promise that.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Shit, Alex.” I inched back and met her eyes. “How can I not chain you up? That’s like asking me not to fuck you.�
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  A quick breath puffed off her lips. “So this isn’t just about punishing me…or getting me to deal with the nightmares?”

  “No. This is about me being a fucked up bastard for wanting to chain you to the damn bed. And baby?” I let go of her hands and rose to a kneeling position, settling between her thighs. “I want you naked.” Reaching behind me, I clamped my hand around her ankle, a proxy for the shackle I was tempted to put back on later. “Take off your top.”

  Tucking her lower lip between her teeth, she raked her fingers down her ribs and grabbed the hem. As the green tank that matched her eyes exposed her tits, a breeze came through the hole in the window, disrupting the curtains in its wake. Her nipples formed two hardened peaks.

  I traced the lines I’d left behind on those mounds yesterday, my fingers gliding over creamy skin marred by the pink remnants of pain. She pulled the tank over her head and flung it across the room.

  “Hands above your head.”

  She stretched her arms out, gaze never wavering from mine as I tugged the elastic waistband of her skirt down the sexiest legs I’d ever seen. Swimming had strengthened them.

  “I’m fucking starved.” I was talking about more than food, but my stomach grumbled, demanding attention. “You must be hungry too.”

  “Famished,” she said, licking her lips as she fucked me with her eyes.

  “Food before fucking.” I rose to my feet and reached a hand out to her. “But first…” I brought her to the dresser and pulled a drawer open, hoping she hadn’t tossed out what I was looking for.

  The clothespins I’d left there over a year ago still waited, their harsh clamps begging to tighten around Alex’s nipples.

  “Put your hands behind your head.”

  She laced her fingers at the back of her head, her mouth forming an irritable curve. “What am I being punished for this time?”

  I cocked a brow at her. “Are you oblivious to the state of this room?”

  “No.”

  “And you remember throwing shit at my head?”

  Nibbling on that lip again, she nodded.

  “That should answer your question then.” I took a nipple between my fingers and rolled it until it formed an over-sensitive bud. I applied the clothespin, and my cock throbbed at the way she winced. As she hissed in a breath, I clamped her other nipple, then I ushered her out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen to get brunch going.