by Brook Wilder
“We should split up. We’ll meet at the safe house!” he yelled at the man, who just nodded affirmative in return. Joel road up to Viper and said the same thing. Tucker already had the orders. And with that, Joel revved the engine once more and took off across the highway, leaving the others receding behind them.
Carla laughed as adrenaline and a sudden joy filled her, a freedom that she had only ever felt with him, with Joel. The freedom to be herself, the freedom to not be scared of what life would bring. The freedom to be happy.
Chapter 17
They could have been on the road for hours, or mere minutes. As far as Joel was concerned it was over far too soon because as he pulled onto the dirt and gravel driveway of the house, slowing to a stop, Carla unwound her arms from where they had been holding so tightly. He instantly missed her touch, the feel of her lush chest pressed against his back. The sound of her laughter, so sweet and unexpected after their near miss with that bastard Maurice.
He put his feet down to balance the bike, hating and loving the feeling of Carla sliding off behind him. Loving it because of the way she leaned into him for support, hating that it was over almost before it began. Joel flipped down the kickstand and stood himself, glancing back at her surreptitiously as she stretched. His mouth went dry as the t-shirt she’d changed into rose above the waistline of her jeans, exposing a tiny swath of creamy skin.
He ached to touch it, to taste it, to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back against him. Joel wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline from the chase, or something different that had him needing her like a drug in his system. An addiction he wasn’t sure he wanted to shake.
They were the first to arrive, and he wasn’t sure how long it would take the others to get there. At least a while longer, he prayed silently as he finally dragged his gaze away from her and held out a hand. She twined her fingers through his instantly and he melted a bit at the touch, so trusting, so ready to believe in him. It was something he’d never felt before and it set his heart to beating even faster.
“Come on,” he said, his voice unexpectedly rough, “Let’s go inside.” He started to walk forward and had to tug on Carla’s hand to get her moving. She was too busy staring at the cottage to follow him.
“What? You don’t like it?” he finally asked, wondering why he felt nervous about the answer. It was the safe house, it shouldn’t matter whether she liked it or not. But it was also his own home away from the club. When he needed a break from the bar, from the job, he came here to decompress and he had built from the ground up. Was that why it was so important for her to like it?
Joel shook his head at his own foolish thoughts, but couldn’t help that feeling that rolled through him as she finally spoke.
“It’s…it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! I was expecting some dingy warehouse, not…this!” Carla stared, her blue eyes as wide as they could go and satisfaction hit him hard. “It’s like something out of a fairytale.”
Joel looked at the house again, trying to see it through her eyes. It was a cozy two story cottage nestled into the base of a mountain that stretched above it into the clear blue sky. With its wooden sides and lattice shingles, the large stained glass window sparkling at the top, it really did look like it could have come from a different time altogether.
It worked for two reasons, the first was that he loved the place, the first real home he’d ever had in his whole life, and the second was that no one driving by would believe that it was a secret hideout for a biker gang.
“Wait until you see the inside,” Joel said, her excitement contagious as he pulled on her hand once more, leading her through the carved wooden double doors. Her gasp of delight settle against him, soothing something inside him that he hadn’t even known was there.
The floor plan was open on the inside, the entryway leading straight into the living room with a big, comfy looking couch sat in front of a large fireplace, a small dining room which was little more than a square wooden table and a few chairs, and then his favorite part of the entire house, the kitchen.
It took up the most space out of everything, with a large island that ran the length of the cabinets and shiny, stainless steel appliances that he had all picked out personally. He’d spent so much of his youth eating scraps, eating out of dumpsters, or eating nothing at all. As soon as he’d had the money, he’d invested in teaching himself how to cook real food, good food. It was a secret that most people didn’t know about him but he found himself anxious to share it with her.
“Let me make us some grub,” Joel said, shutting the doors behind him. His stomach rumbled in agreement, reminding him that neither of them had eaten all day and Carla glanced over at him.
“I’m not sure if I can eat a bite. I’m still shaky after that run in with Maurice.”
“The bastard,” Joel bit out quietly, his fury at the man banked, but not gone. Never gone. “It’s just the adrenaline,” he continued in a more normal voice, “Believe me, underneath all that excitement, your body is probably as hungry as mine is.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he tensed at the sensual way they had come out.
It wasn’t his fault. All he had to do was be in the same room as her, and he wanted her. Hell, just the thought of her did that. And with the adrenaline pumping through both of their systems it seemed to amplify the feelings tenfold.
“Uh, come on. Take a seat over here. Let me see what we have,” Joel gestured to a row of stools pressed up against the outside of the long island and he went to scour the fridge and cabinets, hoping to find something edible. Luckily for him, he kept the house pretty well stocked just in case they had to use it in an emergency.
While he searched through the kitchen, Carla continued to stare wide-eyed around the cozy house. He peeked at her from time to time as she walked around, running her delicate fingers over the back of the couch, the old overstuffed chair that was his favorite place to sit in front of a roaring fire and just think.
He was so distracted by her that it took him twice as long as it should have to make a simple meal of pasta, but thirty minutes later it was finally done and he set one plate in front of a stool for her. He was still too full of adrenaline to sit down, so he just leaned one hip against the islands countertop with the plate in his hands.
“Dinner is served,” Joel called to her and she came over, sliding gracefully onto the stool before picking up her fork.
“This smells amazing,” she said, twirling a mound of pasta around her fork. “Also, this place is fantastic. I’m surprised you don’t live here all the time.”
“Thanks,” he finally replied through a bite of food, “I built it.”
“You built this? Really?” Carla’s look of doubt had him chuckling to himself.
“Yes, actually, I did. I had a little help, but I built most of it myself,” Joel said softly, trying to ignore the nerves that riddled his body, and what they meant, “I can give you a tour if you want. It’s not very big but I’ll still show you around.”
“I would love that,” she said sweetly. As he looked over at Carla, he was struck by the sudden image of her, sitting at the kitchen table in the morning, reading a newspaper or some other mundane thing.
There was something about that thought that reached out and grabbed him. The normalcy of it, the comfort of waking up and knowing the person you’re waking up next to. Knowing them as well as you know yourself. Him cooking a meal for her, something so simple and basic and necessary that it made his chest tighten with some unknown emotion. This is what life could be like with each other.
Whoa, whoa, pump the fucking brakes, man! Slow down, Joel’s mind screamed at him, his life-long instinct to always look out for himself first shouting along with it. It was too much for him to take in, too overwhelming for him to process, and he just spun his fork around listlessly as his thoughts tumbled and warred with each other.
It was probably just the adrenaline still soaking their systems, he rationalized. That was al
l. A part of him knew that it didn’t explain away the emotions that the domestic picture in his mind had roused but it was good enough for him at the moment. The truth was, he was willing to take the flimsy excuse, because being with her felt good. Better than anything had in a long time and he didn’t want anything to jeopardize it, sure as hell not his own insecurities.
“Oh my god, Joel, this pasta is delicious. What did you put in it, magic?” Her words made him glance across the island at her.
“Just whatever we had in the pantry, it’s not five stars but–” Joel cut off abruptly as Carla took another bite, and moaned sinfully around the bite of food. He swallowed hard against the instant, sensual image that erupted in his mind, shattering all of his other thoughts as she tightened her lips around the fork as if she didn’t want to let it go.
Her expression was rapturous and she closed her eyes on another bite. For a moment, time seemed to slow and all he could do was stare helplessly as she opened her mouth, her pink tongue licking out to lap up some of the sauce and something inside him snapped. Joel was moving before he even realized it, not stopping until he was standing right in front of her.
Carla’s eyes widened a moment in surprise before turning to blue fire as she caught his heat, his desire, like a wildfire spreading through a dry forest. Everything was lost to its flames. Thought, logic, everything but the need to touch her. To taste her.
He couldn’t stop himself. He needed to touch her. He had to touch her, like he had to breathe, like his heart needed to beat. He didn’t have a choice. Joel pulled her even closer against himself, nestled into the sweet v of her thighs and he groaned out load at the incredible feel of her pressed against him, all of her soft, lush curves against his hard planes.
The differences between them are what drove him on, what made him crave her like he’d never craved anyone before. Where he looked at himself and saw nothing but abandoned, unwanted, and tainted she was something pure. Something so bright and shiny and clean compared to the dingy, often dark world that he lived in.
And he loved her light. It drew him like a moth to her flame, just as his mouth was drawn to hers, irresistibly, undeniably. His lips moved over hers, eating at their softness and he couldn’t get enough of her. Her taste was like a drug in his system, overdosing him on her sweetness, the unique flavor that was only Carla.
Joel slid his hands underneath her thighs where they were wrapped around his legs and lifted her up until she was sitting on top of the island, closer to where he needed her to be. He never stopped his kiss, never let up on the sensual attack on her senses, drawing every last breath of air from her lungs as he could before pulling back.
He rested his head against her forehead for a moment, both of them panting like they’d run a marathon rather than just kissed. But it was so much more than just a kiss. He didn’t have the right words, but he knew it to his bones.
Carla suddenly moved against him, restless and impatient and it fired his lust all over again. She looked up at him with a devilish grin.
“Did you build a bedroom in this house too?” her voice was rough and husky and sent chills racing across his body. He nodded his head.
“Well, then. Why don’t you show me? I think we should start the tour there.” His grin grew to match hers at her words and without wasting another moment, he lifted her up, her legs still wrapped around his hips, and carried her up the stairs towards the back of the house where his bedroom was.
“It would be my pleasure.”
Chapter 18
Carla was breathless once more before they’d even made it halfway up the stairs. Joel had only made it a few more steps before he stopped again, before he kissed her again. He pressed her up against the nearest wall, careful to be sure of his footing. Carla wasn’t worried, though. There was no room in her mind for fear, there was only the overwhelming desire pulsing through her body in time to his kisses.
Joel thrust his tongue against her lips and she opened eagerly, granting him entrance, and she moaned at the feel of him, the taste of him. Like heat and spice and something else, something dark and possessive and all male as he took her mouth with his. His hips pressed into hers and all she could was hang on as her body writhed mindlessly against him. Lust and adrenaline intensified every sensation and desire made her reach out, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him even closer against her. But still, it wasn’t close enough.
“Joel, please,” she begged, whispering the words against his ear before nipping the soft lobe gently. She hissed out a pained breath, “Please, take me. Please, I need you to fuck me.” Her words triggered something deep inside him because, with a roar, he was moving again, so fast that the rest of the house passed by in a blur. It didn’t matter. She could see him.
She could see the lust etched harshly into his features, the hot look in his flashing silver eyes that held promises that made her whole body shudder. And there was something else there, a warmth to temper the wildness. But before she could register more than that, he kicked open a door with his foot, spun her around and pressed her back up against it so fast she lost her breath completely.
Carla looked up into his eyes, as changeable as a summer storm, and knew every roiling, tumultuous feeling was shining in her own. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions, knew she wore them on her face like a sign and she hoped he wouldn’t see, wouldn’t be able to read the meaning behind them.
Suddenly he was sliding her down his hard body, her own throbbing painfully at the contact before he grabbed her by the shoulders, flipped her around and pressed her once more against the solid wood door. She would have protested but a second later he was there, his big body flush against hers, her back to his front.
“Don’t look at me like that, Carla,” he whispered roughly against her ear, punctuating the words with a quick, hard bite against her neck.
“Like what?” she just barely managed the words, but she knew the answer already. Instinctively she arched her back, pressing her hips back against his and trembling at the hard ridge that met her.
“Fuck!” Joel bit off the word violently and his hands made quick work of her t-shirt, her bra soon following to the floor and they both groaned as his fingers swept over the curves of her breasts, caressing them in just the way that she needed.
His hands swept down after tweaking both of her nipples into hard peaks and he moved back just enough to untangle the button of her jeans, slide down the zipper and push them from her hips, taking the little scrap of lace panties with it.
As soon as she was naked, he was back, the warmth from his big body against hers felt like a furnace at her back. His hands moved over her body until she moved restlessly against him again, needing more than his teasing touches. Needing so much more.
His fingers wrapped around each of her wrists, dragged them up above her head, and held them in place with just one hand while the other went back to its delicious torment. The lack of movement made her go wild and his clever fingers that swept down over the sensitive skin of her hip and then even lower didn’t help.
She moaned at his sudden caress and he moaned right along with her at the wetness he found as his long fingers played against her pussy. Still light, still teasing, he tortured her with feather light touches that brought her right to the edge, just holding her there breathless and aching and needing him.
Over and over Joel brought her to the brink, kept her there panting and begging for more. He denied her, giving her pleasure like she’d never experienced before, but pulling back just at the last moment until she felt like her entire body was trembling, vibrating with need and sensation.
Now, it just took a single touch to have her there again, just short of exploding and every nerve ending was on fire for him. She needed him. Now. She couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please, Joel,” she pleaded, arching her restless body, cat-like against him. Finally he relented, just enough to let her turn in his embrace, his eyes heavy-lidded and hard with desire. He’d
been torturing himself just as much as her and she loved the way his eyes widened in surprise as she slid to her knees in front of him. His shirt was already gone, taken off sometime but lost in her lust-induced haze. But she wanted to see the rest of him.
Carla didn’t waste any time. She yanked at the button of his jeans, sliding down the zipper in her rush to get to him, to see him,to taste him. Her mouth watered at the thought and she licked her lips. She didn’t hear Joel’s groan at the action, her focus all on getting him as naked as she already was. She wanted to be able to touch as much of him as she could.
Her hands were shaking in anticipation by the time she finally slid his boxers down over the impressive length of his erection and before he could even step out of the material, she was there. Her mouth slid over him, loving the contradiction of velvet softness and steel hardness underneath.
The salty sweet taste of him exploded on her tongue and the tremble in his thighs told her he was already as close to edge as she was. His words only confirmed it for her.
