Ride or Die (Devil's Edge MC #1)

by Terri E. Laine

  She got her other essentials and headed back to the bathroom. When she finally came out dressed, he was still sitting.

  “Done?” he asked, sounding put out.

  She nodded. He stood, all six something of him, and stretched, peeling off his shirt in the process. His muscles went taut, and her mouth ran dry before she started to salivate.

  He moved toward the bathroom, and she silently thanked the gods. She readjusted her focus back on the pack and the bed. Anywhere but at him as she tried to play it cool. She didn’t want him to read her thoughts about making another run for it. She righted her bag and stuffed her damp undies rolled in a towel in the front pocket. She left out her jeans, which she would have to wear again much to her dismay. She’d pulled the cash and ID from the pocket and stored them back in her pack. She didn’t want to lose them in a hasty escape.

  Cool metal circled one of her wrists, and she glanced up. “What the hell is this?” she asked, holding up her arm for his inspection.

  “I want to shower and I can’t trust you.”

  He stepped forward and snapped the other end of the cuff around one of the wooden spindles of the ancient headboard.

  “You are a psycho,” she hissed.

  He gave her a show of his teeth in his version of a smile. Then he headed for the bathroom, and she got a gander of his bare back. For a second, she just stared, baffled by what she saw.

  There was a headstone with too many tally marks of fives to count in a quick glance. She didn’t have to think outside of the box to know what that meant. Worse, she’d heard about a man with such a tattoo. That man was a legend in her line of work. If she thought she was screwed before, she now understood she was totally fucked.

  As the water ran in the bathroom, she tugged at the headboard in earnest to get away. Just as the wood began to give, the water in the bathroom turned off. She stilled. Her only option at that point was to continue to act the same as she had before she realized who he was. Otherwise, he would figure out she knew about him. And something told her, her safety was in not knowing. It didn’t matter that his orders were most likely to bring her alive. Self-preservation would always win.

  The bed dipped precariously under her weight. She felt as though she sat on a barely inflated air mattress.

  He didn’t come out immediately, giving her time to school her features. The water from the sink tap kicked on, and she continued to wait. When he finally stepped out, dressed in only jeans, she stared at him. The colorful ink on his arms, his smooth chest, and his rock hard abs made desire bloom inside her. It was automatic. The fact that he was a psychopath cooled her off. Or more likely it was the derisive stare he gave her.

  She got to her feet, mad at the world and frustrated with him. “Who do you think you are?” She tugged at her bonds and damn if the wood didn’t come free. Her momentum carried her stumbling in his direction. She caught herself with a hand on the wall before she fell to the floor or worse in his arms.

  “I’m not your prisoner and you have no right to look at me like I’m some sort of freak.”

  They stood toe to toe. He snagged the loose cuff and held it up. “You are a prisoner as long as you continue to reenact prison breaks.”

  “I’m only trying to flee from a freak who feels me up and watches me get undressed. I didn’t think you were that hard up.”

  “I’m not.” And he was dead serious as he said it.

  Her brow quirked. “Really? Pat seems to think you want me and maybe she’s right.”

  The noise of her colliding with the wall sounded worse than it felt. In her ear, he said, “If I wanted you, you’d know it.” His hand gripped her thigh right below the hem of her shorts.

  Her breath caught because, despite it all, she hadn’t been touched in ages. That shit with Chris had gone nowhere fast. “And what’s that I feel? A sock in your pants?” she taunted.

  “That’s chemistry, darling. Didn’t you have that in high school?”

  “That’s a whole lot of chemistry for someone who acts like I’m shit beneath his feet.”

  “You’re just another whore like the rest, a cunt to fill and get pleasure from. You’re just not my cunt. You belong to Taylor.”

  “Get off me, asshole!” She struck, he countered, she slapped, and he stopped her. They traded blows like that for a while before he rattled her brain with a quick shake and tugged her wrists together at her side.

  His other hand traveled up and near the seam of her ass but didn’t quite go there. “I’ve told you what I am. I told you what I like.”

  Then came the click and she glanced down. “What the fuck?”

  “It’s time to get some sleep, darling. And I told you I can’t trust you.”

  “And here I thought you were cheap by getting a room with one bed. But you had this all planned out.”

  15

  He didn’t answer. He walked to the other side of the bed, dragging her along because they were bound together. He lay down, crossing his arms behind his head. That brought her close to tumbling on top of him. She jerked her arm back, and he allowed it.

  She stood, and he glared at her long enough she made the unfortunate decision to sit on the floor with all the nasty things a black light might pick up. It was the better choice than be forced to crawl over him to lie down on the other side. Not an option. However, her choice of placement forced him on his side. And he continued to say nothing.

  Silence had never been a good thing for her. It made her thoughts loud, and she needed to be free of her mind. She’d been Catholic in a former life and hadn’t been to confession in forever, but found that she needed him to know a few things.

  “I’m not Taylor’s.” She sounded mildly defeated.

  She was surprised when he responded. “So you say.”

  “What do you know? Taylor cheated on me.”

  “I was there.”

  He was where? She wondered at first. Then it clicked. He was there, there. Her brain went into overdrive, trying to recall a memory she’d tried to bury. And there it was in her head, the scene that changed the course of her life. She recalled all the faces that witnessed her shame.

  “I don’t remember you.”

  He let loose a dark chuckle. “I remember you coming in on your righteous horse. Then you fucked Taylor over after having fucked him.”

  “I fucked him over?” She sounded indignant. “He was with a club whore.”

  She pulled more on the arm that was bound to hers only for his hand to land on her breast. She quickly batted it away and repositioned their fastened wrists.

  “What did you expect? He was supposed to be protecting you, not fucking you. You were like seventeen.”

  “Eighteen,” she corrected, though that was a lie. She just didn’t like how much he knew about her.

  “Doesn’t matter. That shit wouldn’t go over well. And if he weren’t with anyone, the guys would have wondered what the hell was going on with him.”

  “And he couldn’t be a man and admit what I was to him?” she asked.

  “For what? You left him anyway.”

  “Why do you even care?”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  Well shit, she thought. She’d heard of Taylor’s best friend back then but hadn’t met him.

  “So you’re going to dole out payback by treating me like shit for this whole trip.”

  “I’m doing my job and you’re making it harder. You’re trouble, and I don’t want it. You’re like the rest, claiming love, yet wearing some other guy’s shirt. Then refuse to wear the cut you wanted.”

  “You don’t know me.” She stood and stared down at him. “And because of that, you have no right to judge me.”

  “I call it like I see it. Walks like a slut, acts like a slut.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You keep getting on my nerves, I just might.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe when we get home, I’ll tell everyone how you fucked me. There’s some sort of brotherhood code agai
nst that, isn’t there?”

  The next thing she knew she tumbled over and onto the bed. His hand spread her legs, and he made a move to get in between them.

  “What? Stop!” she cried out.

  “If I’m going to be accused of something, I might as well have done it.”

  “You don’t even like me,” she protested while trying to shove him off.

  “Pussy is pussy and I’m horny as hell. You’ll do if I’m going to pay for it anyway.”

  “Okay, fine. I won’t say anything.”

  She might have been crazy and wanted to screw him. But she wasn’t a girl with rape fantasy. Nor was she the kind of girl to accuse an innocent guy of something like that. She wanted a way out and hoped her bluff might have worked. But once again, Ender had one-upped her.

  Immediately, he got off her and lay back.

  She tried for more information. “How long have you known Taylor?”

  “Long enough. Now get some sleep. We leave at first light.”

  He rolled over, which was awkward because he faced away from her. That left her hand suspended in the air. She rolled away from him as well so both of their hands were in midair. Somehow, despite the awkwardness, sleep claimed her.

  Groggy, she woke to the feelings and sounds of someone in between her legs. For a second, she’d been surprised that she’d fallen asleep next to a madman. But exhaustion had won after she’d rolled onto her side.

  All thoughts went for a vacation when sensations crested over her. She arched her back to exert more pressure on her most sensitive nub. A hand found her naked breast to caress, not squeeze. She used her free hand to thread through his thick hair. The chestnut waves had mocked her the whole trip. Now, she used them to force his head down, giving her more of what she wanted.

  Her moan was long and loud. She was oh so close but couldn’t get there.

  Eyes she thought were open popped awake. She was flat on her back and so was Ender. Her hand was under her boy shorts and at her core. His bound hand rested atop hers with no other place to go. Her free hand was on her breast.

  She stopped her ministrations even though her dream had crossed into subconscious reality. She was close but wondered if the giant was awake and aware of what she was up to. Yet, her need was great. She feared if she stopped, she would jump the first guy who showed her even the slightest attention. Plus, her mind was cloudy, making her see Ender as a sexual fantasy, and that wasn’t an option.

  After measuring a few of his even breaths, she was certain he slept. She slipped her underwear down just enough so that she could access the spot she needed without his hand being overly jostled and risking more of a chance he’d wake. Hopefully, he was a sound sleeper.

  Her fingers curled and dipped inside. She was already wet and ready for more. But this had to do. As she moved her joined hand, his fingers brushed her parted thighs as it rested atop hers. That only helped move along the fantasy she conjured in her mind. She pulled at her nipples through the thick material of the bra. The stinging sensation helped her get closer to her end. Her breathing became more ragged despite her tries to keep silent.

  Things were painfully close when the hand that covered hers began to guide her movements. The heel of his palm pressed down and created more friction on her clit. It didn’t take long into his participation before he sent her cresting over the edge.

  When she stopped her movements, she waited for him to say or do something cruel. She didn’t move even though she was bare to him below. What did it matter? He’d helped her reach an amazing orgasm. Yet, nothing came. In fact, his breathing remained as even as before she started. Had he unknowingly helped her get off while sleeping? She waited much longer, but he remained still.

  She pulled up her boy shorts after wiping her fingers on the sheets. There was no other choice. She couldn’t wake him and admit she needed to wash her hands because she’d masturbated. And although his hand had guided hers, excluding the accidental skin brushes, he had only really touched her hand.

  Through the zone of sexual haze, she checked out his package. He may have been sleeping, but there was a huge bulge in his pants. Could she help him release some pressure? He’d helped her. And maybe if they were both somewhat satisfied, the desire she felt and was sure he did too, might go away. She had to be crazy, but she reached out and touched him.

  “No.” It sounded more like a growl than anything else. She didn’t have time to analyze it before she was pressed into the mattress with her captured hands on either side of her head.

  16

  A soft body lay beneath him, and it was her loss. Hadn’t she seen the warning on his door? Some thought it juvenile, but he considered it fair. It stated to enter at your own risk.

  His hips shifted, and he found the spot that joined his body with that of the female underneath him. He bucked a few times, making sure she was prepared for what would come next.

  She smelled just of soap, and he was grateful. He wanted to taste her and not the chemicals that came along with perfumes and shit. His tongue flicked out, and a burst of clean skin filled his senses. A moan egged him on as he latched on and sucked the skin at the base of her neck.

  He ground his hips into hers and sought to remove the barriers between them. He moved down to find her breasts held prisoner by fabric. He searched for a clasp and came up empty. He shoved up the material out of frustration and captured a nipple in his mouth. Her hips rose and stroked against his shaft. He was harder than he’d ever remembered. The blonde he had last left him wanting what wasn’t his to have.

  His fingers did the walking while he found her other nipple and gently bit and sucked as she writhed beneath him. He slipped his hand down the front of the pliable material that encased her hips. Thank fuck for that. Her pussy was wet, dripping with need. He pushed two fingers in and found resistance. Damn, she was tight. He would burst if he didn’t get inside her soon.

  “Ender,” she cried out, wanting him with desperation she didn’t understand. Eyes, black as night in the darkness of the room, opened and found hers.

  The dream he’d been in turned out to be a reality. And for fuck’s sake, she was way off-limits. He hadn’t consciously crossed the line, he justified to himself.

  His hand disappeared so fast, she might have thought he’d performed magic. Then he was off her, and she almost begged him to finish until he spoke.

  “Don’t ever fucking touch me when I’m sleeping.” His voice was so cold, she shivered.

  “I,” she stammered, prepared to give an explanation.

  “Never,” he said again. A shaft of light blazed into the room through a slit in the blinds. She got a good look at his disgust. “I told you before I don’t want you. I don’t want to fuck you. I don’t want you to touch me. Got it?”

  Shame gripped her like his hand had earlier that day. She began to put her clothes back to rights, trying to gain some dignity as she craved for the calming effects of a cigarette. She pinched her lips closed because his cruelty made her feel dirty. She held the neck of her top to the base of her throat while he quietly lay there. If she’d had a knife, she would have stabbed him in his chest and spat on his face. He was the worst of the worst and deserved the reputation he had.

  But there had been a moment, when he touched her, she’d forgotten all about the devil within him. But damn him and everything he did to her.

  He yanked her to her feet and dragged her to the bathroom. He lifted the toilet seat, and she turned her back to him. She closed her burning eyes and had a strong urge to force fingers in her ears so she wouldn’t have to listen to him take a long ass morning piss. And wasn’t that the icing on the cake.

  Eventually, he cut her loose and gave her privacy in the bathroom to get ready for the day. She spent the time trying to understand how far she’d fallen. He’d nearly broken her. And she had the training to overcome his bullshit. She had to focus and forget the man. She was armed and dangerous, too. She just needed to bide her time.

  Get
ting on his bike and being forced to wrap her arms around him was barely tolerable after what almost happened between them. With no other choices available to her at the moment, she did what she had to and silently planned for her escape.

  The opportunity came late in the day. They made a stop at a full-service rest stop at her request. The place was buzzing with activity. Ender had been relatively quiet and hadn’t hovered like she thought he might. She made her way to the bathroom not only because he couldn’t follow but because she really had to go. When she came out, fortunate for her Ender was otherwise engaged in a conversation with a redhead who wore leather like a second skin.

  A creeping feeling of jealousy was so out of place she dismissed it. How could she conjure that emotion for him when she hated his guts? He may have been sex on a stick, but he was batshit crazy. And no girl, especially her, needed crazy in her life.

  She ducked back into a bathroom stall to remove her wig. It was time to be someone else and get lost in the crowd that filled the rest stop. She almost took the time to buy a pack of cigarettes on her way out, but her need to be far away from Ender eclipsed everything else. She slipped out a door opposite the one they came in. That side had parking spaces for truckers, and that was why she chose it.

  Eighteen wheelers were all lined up in rows and she darted toward the back and spotted a potential winner. A semi with a double decker load full of used cars sat at the end of a row. She stepped between it and the truck next to it, shielding her from view from incoming highway traffic. The loaded cars were secured by chains. There wouldn’t be a way, based on the configuration, for someone to steal one. So maybe there was a possibility that the trucker hadn’t checked the doors to see if they were locked. She prayed that one on the lower level wouldn’t be.

  She found a winner on her second try. The front of the car was on an incline, leaving the backseat a perfect place to hide. She slipped in and hoped the driver of the semi would be along soon. She reclined on the seat and set her backpack on the floorboard. Thankfully, she’d asked Ender for it prior to going to the bathroom, claiming she wanted to freshen up and get a tampon. He’d easily tossed her the bag. And there she was, flat on the seat of a pimped out Honda Civic as she pulled out her phone and put the battery in.