Vicious: Steel Jockeys MC

by Claire St. Rose

  As soon as the question flew out of her mouth she resented it. You can’t care about him anymore. He’s going to kill your father—don’t you forget that.

  “They tried to teach me a lesson.” He took a labored breath, looking her up and down. “What the hell did you get into?”

  She looked at the man on the ground and back up at Boris. “I’m taking care of things my own way. Since nobody else around her seems to want to help me.”

  “Claudia, that’s not true. I always want to help you.” He squinted down at the guard. “Did you knock him out?”

  “Shut up.” She reached behind her, resting her hand on the butt of the gun. “You don’t help me—you never wanted to help me. You just wanted me to get to my dad.”

  Boris’s head hung. “At the beginning, yes. But that’s—”

  “I said shut up.” She squeezed the butt of the gun and then whipped it out. Boris’s eyes widened and she brought it up to her own head, pressing the warm barrel to her temple. “I’m not going to be an accomplice in his murder. Do you get that? I won’t be used as bait.”

  “You’re not bait,” Boris said, stepping into the room, his voice tight. He reached out, as though urging her to come into his arms. “Claudia, you have to believe me.”

  “And why would I believe you?” She stood her ground, pressing the gun harder against her head. She sure as hell didn’t know how to handle this situation, but this was the only thing that occurred to her as remotely right. She wouldn’t be used as leverage—not anymore.

  “I’ve never lied to you,” Boris croaked, approaching slowly. “I didn’t admit everything, but I never told you anything that wasn’t true.”

  “Lying by omission is still lying,” she said, backing up as he stepped closer. “It’s the same.”

  “It’s not.” He stepped closer, reaching for her arm. “I had my hands tied, too. You might not want to believe it, but I did. I couldn’t speak the truth, but I didn’t add to it with lies.” He stepped even closer, which caused her to back up into the wall. Fuck. “You just filled in the holes as you saw fit.”

  “Oh, so it’s my fault?” She stiffened against the wall, steeling her jaw. “What a bunch of shit.”

  “No.” He paused, pain slashing his face. “That’s not what I meant. Listen, it was wrong. But put the gun down.”

  “I’m not going to be a part of this,” she said, voice shaky. “I’ll pull the trigger.”

  “Stop it. I’m taking you home.” He inched closer, hand drifting toward her elbow. “I’ll get you home safe. Your father is fine.”

  “But for how long?”

  “Until I say so.” He leveled her with his gaze. Pinpricks of hope seeped through her. He was close enough to feel his warmth; and even now, battered and bloody, even after she’d discovered that he was hired to kill her dad—she wanted him.

  And if he could be attached to something so ugly, so sinister, and it didn’t snuff the flames of attraction for him. Then she might always want him. What guilt, what shame. What a terrible daughter, a slave to her base desires.

  She blinked, drawing a deep breath. “Get away from me.”

  He stood in front of her, inches away, his breath coming out in labored puffs. “Claudia, you have to believe me. You’ve seen what I’m capable of. If I wanted to use you as leverage for your dad, I would have done it by now.”

  She glared at him.

  “I would have taken you straight home after the cruise. I would have put you on an airplane the second I could have, I would have turned myself in as the grand hero. But I didn’t. And why?”

  She turned away from him, hesitant to look into those dark, imploring eyes even a second longer. They were too captivating. Too raw. “I don’t care why.”

  “I didn’t turn you over because I had to figure out what the fuck was going on in my head first.” He pushed her shoulder, sealing her against the wall. “I had to figure out why I couldn’t do my job anymore. And the answer was you.”

  She avoided his gaze, the gun slumping a bit against her head. “Oh, please.”

  “My coming for you on the cruise ship was motivated by a desire to gain access to your father. That’s true. I won’t deny that. But everything that came after that first night on the ship.” His head drooped. “That’s where the game plan changed.”

  Claudia squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself against his words. God, she wanted to believe him so badly. At least just to know that she wasn’t crazy for feeling this way about him.

  “Why did we go to Filitov’s?”

  “Because I needed his advice about what I should do. I knew I should turn you loose, but I didn’t want to. I was being selfish.” He dragged his hand down the length of her arm. “But that’s why I tried to leave you behind that night. He talked some sense into me. He reminded me that I was dragging you into a mess you didn’t deserve.”

  She scoffed. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

  He brought his other hand to the curve of her waist. She lowered the hand with the gun, glancing up at him. His dark eyes hooked her. “I brought you here. I might have saved you once, but then I pushed you into more shit.” He paused. “I can’t forgive myself, Claudia. I care about you. If there’s one good thing that came of all this, it’s that I met you.”

  She gulped, unsure how to respond. His words rang true to her—they resonated in the deepest parts of her being. But so what? What now?

  “Met me and then lost me,” she said.

  He let a soft sigh, pressing his forehead against hers. The warmth of him was practically a drug. “Is it wrong to want to keep you for myself?”

  She pinched her eyes shut. “Don’t say that.”

  “You’re right.” He laughed a little, then clutched at his ribs. “There’s no way it could work.”

  His words hung in the air, prompting a wave of sadness through her. She wanted him—was it so impossible? There’s no way you two can ever work out. Princesses don’t fall in love with killers like him. That should have been enough, but yet a glimmer of hope persisted in the darkness.

  She sighed, dropping her hand to her side. “Not in a million years.”

  Their gazes locked and electricity shivered between them. “But was it so wrong to think about it?”

  She swallowed a knot in her throat. She’d contemplated it too, like the lovesick idiot she was. Hearing him admit the same was a quiet victory, somewhere deep inside.

  When she didn’t respond, he brushed his nose against hers. “You’re the only woman that’s made me stumble.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Which is even more of a sign that I should stay away. When I stumble, look what happens. We end up here.”

  “And you get the shit kicked out of you,” she said, letting her gaze travel over the bruises on his face. “You poor thing.”

  He tutted, nuzzling her neck. “I need a nurse.”

  She giggled, pushing on his shoulder. “You need a lot more than a nurse.”

  He squeezed the soft flesh above her hip. “I only want you, though.”

  The smile fell from her face. Yeah, she wanted him too—but it was impossible. “Boris, this isn’t fair.”

  “I know, babe.” He pressed his forehead against hers.

  “So what do we do now? Huh? Just walk away like everything is fine?” Her throat tightened. Your heat feels too good. I can’t give you up.

  “How about you give me the gun first?” He peered down at her side.

  She handed it over. “I trust you with it more than me.”

  Boris stuffed it under his waistband. “Do you trust me?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Jesus, every time you ask this question, I’m scared to find out what comes next.”

  He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger. “But do you trust me?”

  She blinked up at him, tenderness overcoming her. His busted lip, the drying blood, the banged up eye, his mussed hair. She wanted to kiss him and soothe him until it all felt better. Then maybe they could
both wake up from this strange dream and live happily ever after. “I trust you.”

  “Good.” A wicked smile crossed his face. “Let’s leave Pavlichenko a little parting gift.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Parting gift?” Claudia’s brow arched.

  Boris pressed his palms against the wall on either side of her. His ribs throbbed like a motherfucker but hell if he’d let something like that stop him from this on-the-fly plan. Those goons beat him up real good—but not enough to snuff his sex drive. Not when it came to Claudia.

  “I want you,” he said, voice almost a growl. He’d kiss her if they hadn’t busted his lip. He grabbed handfuls of her ass, drawing a low breath. Hooking his hands under her ass, he hoisted her. She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “Sounds like you just can’t resist me,” she said, dragging her lips over his unbroken cheek. “Even in the most unlikely places.”

  “Maybe you feel the same way,” he said, nipping at her earlobe.

  “Maybe I do,” she whispered. “Or maybe I just like your unconventional preferences for sex spots.”

  He glanced behind him at the guard. “Be honest. How did you knock him out? Do we have to worry about him waking up?”

  “Oh well if he does,” she purred into his ear. His cock stirred in his pants. “Parting gift, right?”

  He pressed his lips to hers gently, the cut throbbing, then pulled away with a wince. Claudia furrowed a brow, tracing her fingertips over the line of his jaw.

  “Does it hurt so bad?”

  “Everything is a little worse for the wear,” he said, grinding up against her. “But that won’t stop me.”

  She giggled, running her hands over the ridge of his shoulders, down the sides of his arms. “God, that’s sexy somehow. Even when you’re busted up and bleeding, you’re sexy.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He nuzzled her neck, grabbing big handfuls of her ass. She crossed her ankles around his back, cinching their bodies even closer.

  “You should,” she whispered, her breath hot in his ear. “You were what I was wishing for.”

  Her words rang inside his skull, both pure and prickling. You shouldn’t wish for someone like me. He buried his face in her neck, the words dinging around like pinballs. You deserve someone better.

  “What the hell did you wish for, then?” He met her gaze, forcing a smile. Her sultry look made his cock twitch.

  “I wished for an adventure,” she said, arcing her back, making her breasts round nicely. “When I left for my backpacking trip, I just wanted to experience something new. Off the beaten trail.”

  He laughed, which made his ribs hurt. “You definitely made your way off the beaten trail.”

  She grabbed at his biceps, clenching her legs tighter around his hips. “I found you. Or you found me, rather.”

  He stilled. “We found each other.”

  Her eyes glinted bright green, like sea moss. “And look at the adventure we’ve been on.”

  Boris pressed his forehead to hers. “But it hasn’t been a good adventure.” And he didn’t know how it would end up. Once he sent her back to her father, he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. Pavlichenko expected one thing. But now, after all this? Boris wasn’t sure he could hold up his end of the job.

  Especially when every cell of his being was begging him to escort Claudia back to her house himself. He’d promised an anonymous delivery. But he wanted to be the very opposite of anonymous from here on out.

  “That’s why they say ‘careful what you wish for’, dummy.” She giggled.

  He cracked a grin, squeezing her ass again. “Exactly. Next time, wish for a calm, regular tour group. Without the kidnapping.”

  Skipping kisses along his jaw, she said, “I should add that to my resume. Kidnapping survivor. I think it would look good on my job applications.”

  “What jobs are you applying for?” He reached down to loosen his belt, unbuttoning his jeans. They crumpled to a pile at his ankles. He bit his lower lip as he ground his groin into hers. She tensed, sucking in a sharp breath.

  “Oh, you know,” she gasped. “Stripper. Croatian countryside long-distance runner. Expert hostage. God that feels good.”

  He laughed low. “Stripper, huh? After that lap dance you gave me, I don’t think you should do anything else.” He yanked her shirt up, exposing the heavy breasts that could snag his attention anywhere, anytime. “Mmm. Except only for me.”

  She lifted a brow, but she looked pleased. “So you’ll hire me, be my boss? Private lap dances, huh?”

  “Yes.” He lowered her gently to the ground, pushing her leggings down to her ankles, helping her step out of them. “Just for me.”

  Her skin went goosepimply as he dragged his fingertips up the lengths of her legs. “Sound like you might get bored.”

  “I don’t think so.” He hoisted her again and she sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m a man with specific tastes. Once I make a choice, I don’t waver.”

  “So what it sounds like to me.” She lolled her head as he nuzzled her neck. “Is that you just want exclusive rights.”

  He gyrated his hips in a wide, slow circle, loving the pleased gasps it elicited from her. He knew exactly what she was getting at. And he liked their roundabout way of talking about it. “Sounds about right.”

  Because right now, it didn’t matter how much of a pipe dream the idea was. There was something magnetic between them, and though the logistics didn’t make sense, there was something right about entertaining the idea. Just for now.

  He pushed his briefs down, making his cock bob up and down once it was freed. Claudia’s breath hitched and she tensed while he pressed himself against her, lining up their parts.

  The heat of her seared through him as his cockhead nudged into place, seeking the dampness between her legs. He pressed his cheek against hers, grunting as he eased himself into just the right spot. The crease of her pussy welcomed him and a small gasp escaped her as he pressed himself deep into her heat; slowly, slowly, inch by languorous inch.

  The entry was divine; a beautifully slick, hot union that made his mind spin. When he was buried to the hilt, he opened his eyes, still seeing stars. Her breath came out in a shuddery sigh at his ear.

  “Why?” He grunted and flexed against her, finding another inch of space. “Why do you feel so good?”

  She clung to him, arms around his neck, her half-sheathed breasts spread against his chest. “Hell if I know. This is unreal.”

  He worked her slowly at first, loosening her up, letting her acclimate to the rhythm. He drew a jagged breath, knowing his own glorious finish was near. Something about this position was extra killer—or was it the situation? Almost losing her. Finding her. Convincing her. Speaking his truth. The rawness of that conversation still lingered like a spritzed cologne around him.

  Maybe that was the secret code to intimacy. Fucking up followed by absolution. Fear followed by relief.

  Falling for a girl that he knew he could never truly have.

  He gripped at her hips, desperate to root her to her spot, to this moment, to lock her up and keep a piece of her inside him forever. Claudia’s ragged breaths urged him on, faster, harder; the residual aches of his beat-down faded into an innocuous hum in the background as the sexual energy soothed him. The stillness of the cell was punctuated only by the slaps of his body against hers, and the tiny, ecstatic gasps that Claudia uttered like a sweet song.

  His end came too soon. Within minutes, the prowling tendrils of release coursed through him. He pumped in and out one last time and then stilled, rigid against her, as the pleasure resonated through him. Grunting, he pressed his forehead to hers, drawing ragged breaths, mind hazy and legs like jelly as he relished the buzzy come-down of his orgasm.

  Claudia’s grip around his neck tightened. “Boris.”

  He tilted his head back to meet her gaze. “What?”

  She was flushed and breathless. “How can you make fucking
in a jail cell so hot?”

  He grinned, helping her slide down the wall until her feet touched the ground. She held onto his shoulders for support. “Consider it a secret talent of mine.”

  She laughed a little, smoothing her palms over his biceps, down the lengths of his arm, then over the flat planes of his chest. “So I guess I should take that as the goodbye.”

  He pulled his boxers up, then his jeans. “We don’t have to take anything as goodbye yet.”

  “But I know what you meant when you said parting gift.” She pulled her shirt over her breasts, adjusted her leggings.