by Debra Kayn
"Okay." Cam lifted his chin. "Keep your ears open."
Pretaro stepped forward. "Farrell, I need my payment. You've got me strung tight and that info..."
"Yeah. I got it." Cam walked back to his bike, opened the satchel strapped to the back of his seat, and removed the money he'd planned to drop off in the mailbox used to store his pistol for Pretaro to pick up later. He returned to the guard. "Here."
"Thanks." Pretaro walked backward. "I need to get out of here before anyone drives by and spots me."
Cam turned around and limped back to his motorcycle. He left before Pretaro even started the truck. His first inclination was to stop somewhere safe where he could look over the paper given to him, but he needed to get home. He had the chain run tonight and a woman who needed him at the house.
The house? He stretched his leg straight and laid the back of his ankle on the peg. Christina nailed him when she asked why he never called the house a home. To do so would be putting his mind in a place he couldn't go.
Chapter Seventeen
Cam and Gunner sat on their motorcycles having a smoke outside Country Mart. Christina watched them through the double glass doors as the cashier scanned the rest of her groceries. She worked her lip in worry. Cam pushed himself too far.
After only getting three hours of sleep, he'd insisted on coming to town with her. She understood his worry about Reds, and she'd taken precautions by driving the truck and asking Gunner to escort her.
"That'll be three hundred, fifty-two dollars, and sixteen cents. Do you have a milk savings card?" The blonde cashier held her finger over the keypad waiting for Christina's answer.
"Yes." Christina scrounged around in her purse, found the paper card, and handed it over to be hole-punched.
"Two more gallons and your next milk purchase will be free," the cashier said.
Christina smiled. At one time, when she lived on her own, free milk meant she could make boxed macaroni and cheese for the week. "Thanks."
The cashier helped her load the plastic sacks of groceries into the cart. "I've been meaning to ask the next time I saw you if the Moroad Motorcycle Club allows just anyone to hang around. I'd love to go to one of their club parties."
Christina studied the woman. "Oh?"
"A couple of my friends wanted to know, too. Since I see you in here a couple times a week, I thought..." The cashier over smiled. "I know you hang around them and the Silver Girls get to go to the parties."
"You seem to know a lot about Moroad," Christina said, biting her tongue.
The woman shrugged. "A little."
"I suppose you want to hook up with one of the guys," Christina said.
The cashier leaned closer and lowered her voice. "There's a guy I see riding around late at night. He has dark hair, wears a black T-shirt under his vest, and rides a black motorcycle with a painting of a snake on the...thing at the front by the seat. God, he's hot. I'd love to meet him."
Merk.
The hair on Christina's arms prickled. She looked down her nose and said, "Sorry, girls aren't allowed around the club members without prior approval."
The cashier's perfectly arched brows wrinkled. "Who would I ask for permission?"
"Me." Christina tilted her head, drawing out the suspense. "The answer is no."
She pushed the cart toward the door and almost clipped the sliding glass partition in her hurry. First, the town alienated her because of Cam going to prison and now women wanted to become friends to gain access to the men? To felons? Merk? Hell no.
Cam and Gunner helped her load the sacks of groceries in the back of the truck. She thunked the milk down hard against the pickup.
"Hey," Cam said, catching her wrist. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Tell that to the milk jug." He pulled her closer, looping his arm around her waist. "It looks like you wanted to bust it open."
"I'm fine." She gritted her teeth.
"You know what they say about a woman who always claims she's fine," Gunner said.
Cam turned his head. "What?"
"She's not fine. Something happened to piss her off." Gunner tossed the sack of bread into the bed of the pickup and walked back to his motorcycle.
Cam returned his attention to her. "What happened inside the store?"
The whole conversation with the cashier reminded her of high school where girls used each other and friendships changed every week. She shook her head. Maybe after her parents' murders she'd done the right thing keeping to herself. The drama that came from Cam over her friendship with Merk, and now unknown girls using her to get to the club and Merk wasn't worth the aggravation. Nothing was simple anymore.
"Are you going to answer me, or do I need to go in there and talk to everyone who might've talked with you?" he asked.
"No, I don't want you to do that." She kissed him. "I really am fine. I'm just not used to having people seek me out."
"Did someone warn you away from me again or say something to upset you?"
"No." She rolled her eyes. "It's stupid. The cashier only wanted to come to a Moroad MC party."
"What did you tell her?"
She scrunched her nose. "Well, I lied."
"About...?"
"I told her the only ones allowed to come to the parties are those who are pre-approved." She looked away, embarrassed that she'd acted irrationally. "I might've also told her she couldn't come and..."
"And what?"
"I was the person who made the decision on who could attend the parties," she confessed.
"That's all?" Cam pulled back and smiled. "We don't want people coming by. They have to work their way in and only at certain times are the men allowed to have women around. It's not a big deal. I could give a shit if you told her off."
"Well, I was rude, but she made me mad. She only wanted to use me, so she could come over and try to hook up with Merk, and that's not..." She reached out and grabbed Cam's vest when he pulled away. "What's wrong?"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Cam walked a few paces away and came back to her. "What would you have done if she mentioned wanting me?"
"She didn't—"
"What if she wanted me?" His eyes darkened and his voice took on the deep, gravely tone frightened her.
"Cam, she didn't say you." She put her hands on his chest. "It's not about who she wanted. I don't like women using me, and I'm out of practice fending them off."
"You had no problem fending off Merk while I was gone though, huh?" He ripped away from her. "Get in the truck. We're going back to the house."
"Can you first tell me why you're mad?"
"Get in the fucking truck." He turned and walked to his bike.
Gunner turned his head and looked at her. She shook her head, clueless about what she'd done and wondered why Gunner wasn't helping her explain her side of the story. He'd overheard their whole conversation. She'd already explained it was her fault for being rude and lying to the cashier.
"Shit," she muttered. "Sometimes you can be a real asshole."
She walked around the truck, knowing Cam couldn't hear her and slid into the driver's seat. Looking behind her, she backed out of the parking spot and put the truck in drive. Cam's misplaced anger made her mad. He didn't have to snap at her after telling her it was no big deal to keep people away from the club.
He lacked sleep and was cranky, and impatient. She wrung the steering wheel, wishing she never told him about the conversation in the store. He already had enough problems without worrying about hers.
The club remained on high alert since Reds shot out the bedroom window and Cam added security around Federal, the house, and her. She glanced down at the speedometer and inched her foot off the accelerator.
Gunner passed her under the viaduct and led her down the road, while Cam stayed behind her. Boxed in, she wanted to tear past them both and leave them in the dust. Lately, it seemed like she used up most of her day trying to figure out what Cam expected of her, and less time enjoying w
hat they had together. Why couldn't her days be simple, the way it was with Merk when Cam was gone?
Her foot stomped down on the gas pedal and she jerked it off before she ran into the back of Gunner. Her heart raced at figuring out what pissed Cam off.
"God, I should've known." She sighed.
She'd tried hard not to bring Merk into any discussions since Cam flipped out and became possessive anytime she mentioned Merk's name. She groaned, driving around a chuckhole in the road. Shit, why had she blurted the whole conversation with the cashier to him?
She glanced in her rearview mirror as she turned onto the gravel road leading home. Cam dropped back, keeping out of the dust from the tires kicking up rocks in her wake. The longer she looked and the more distance Cam put between her and his motorcycle, the more her guilt ate away at her.
While she valued Merk's constant support, Cam owned her heart. When she'd known him as prisoner #18794, he'd done everything for her, so she could continue to push forward. Then when he walked out of prison and kidnapped her, he'd forced her to accept what she knew in her heart. A bubble of hysteria choked her. He gave the term Tough Love new meaning.
She slammed her foot on the brake. The truck slid to the side and she steered the wheels into the curve to keep from going off the road. Shoving the shifter into park, she threw open the driver's door, slid out, and ran toward Cam.
He stopped his motorcycle and got off the bike, grabbing her instantly. "What's wrong?"
"I love you, you asshole." She flung herself around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
He nudged her lips open. She met him stroke for stroke. Lifted off the ground, she wrapped her legs around him. Caught up in figuring out how to smooth over her last conflict with Cam, she'd lost sight of the importance of not losing herself that he instilled in her.
She'd held back from fully relying on him, because she feared him leaving her again. And, yeah, she subconsciously leaned on Merk. After falling in love with Cam, she'd done everything in her power to surround herself with the club to retain the connection with Cam while he served time for his crime.
She needed to lean on Cam, even when she believed he had enough stress with the club. Cam needed her dedication and closeness to adapt and she'd failed him. They'd both made mistakes.
Her thoughts made absolutely no sense and yet, made complete sense to her.
She pulled back. "I'm sorry."
He opened his mouth. She put her finger on his lips. Too thick headed to understand what he'd asked her for repeatedly in the last several weeks, she wanted to finish her thought before she bumbled everything up again.
"I need to apologize to you." She shook her head stopping him from talking. "I get why you're mad and though I think we both have a lot to work on when it comes to communication, I do realize how much you need me to be with you completely. All these changes of having you, not having you, and then you come back—more angry and hard, makes me scared of losing you again, so I've held back. I know I have, and it didn't dawn on me until I was driving home what I'd been doing to you. All I want is you and me."
"Us," he said against her finger.
She nodded. "Yeah, honey, us."
He set her on her feet and brought her head to his chest. His large hand held her ear to his beating heart. "There's only one thing in my life I'll never walk away from, and that's you. Tears me apart, fiber by fiber, to think you have a friendship or hell, a conversation with someone else when I'm not around. I know it's sick, but that's who I am. I'm going to fight like a hardass to prove that to you. I want you to see what you mean to me."
"Wouldn't just telling me how you feel be easier?" She slipped her arms around him.
He stroked her head and whispered, "Not for me."
She closed her eyes, taking what he gave her and processing the information. His solid body, his warmth, his racing heart validated her existence in his life. They'd been through hell, together and alone, and nothing compared to these moments when nothing else contaminated them. Just her and him.
Gunner cleared his throat. "Are you two done making yourself a fucking target out in the middle of the road?"
Cam's chest quaked in amusement. She opened her eyes and Cam let her step away from him. She already missed holding him.
"Let's get to the house, so Gunner can relax." Cam winked.
She smiled, turned on a skip, and walked back to the truck overjoyed. Cam never winked. Merk was the one who always winked at her in silent support. She shut the door and groaned. Not wanting to compare the two men, she started the truck and drove home. They were back to being an us, and nothing else mattered.
Chapter Eighteen
Cam's whiskers tickled a trail along the back of Christina's neck, while his fingers burned the inside of her thigh, inching higher and higher. She squirmed, trying to hold still and failing.
Each time he traveled closer to her sex, her insides got antsy for more and she wanted to move, to take his hand or his mouth, and find the relief she needed. His order to stand still kept her from lifting a hand. Somehow, he needed her obedience tonight and she wouldn't disappoint. Not that letting him lavish her body with pleasure was a hardship. Far from it, she was obliviously happy.
He tapped the inside of her thigh. "Move your feet."
She widened her stance, and his fingers found her wetness, stroking, and parting her folds. Her breath escaped her at the invasion of his two fingers plunging inside of her, stretching, filling, stroking. She wanted to participate, touch him, and give him pleasure.
He seemed to sense her impatience and used his free arm to wrap around her waist, forcing her to bend and rest her upper body on the mattress. "Climb on the bed."
Scrambling into the position he demanded, she groaned when he left his fingers inside of her. Every movement heated her body and left her core tight and seeking an orgasm.
Then his mouth replaced his fingers. She sucked in a breath, catching her lower lip, and fought against bucking her hips. Every part of her body oversensitive from his attention for the last hour, she cried out with need.
His hands circled her ankles, holding her in place. The delicious swipes of his tongue added more pressure building inside of her. She moaned. When his tongue lapped at her clit, she rocked back and forth on her knees.
She needed more.
She needed him inside her body.
He growled against her flesh, biting the inside of her thigh, jolting her. The sting quickly replaced by pleasure, and then he let go of her ankles, grabbed her hips, and plunged his cock inside of her. She fisted the blanket.
"Yes," she said on a hiss.
"Fuck me," he muttered on another thrust.
Each withdrawal and penetration fed her insatiable appetite for him. Her moans turned to whimpers. Afraid she'd scream and bring the bikers outside the house running in to investigate the danger, she bit down on her lip. Her release drew closer, teasing her, tormenting her.
"You want me," Cam said.
"Yes, yes."
The heaviness of his balls slapped against her clit. His hard stomach slapped against her ass. Sweet agony flooded every nerve and she flew. Each muscle constricted and pleasure exploded. The fierce jolts fed her soul and while she struggled to hold herself on her knees, Cam's fingers dug into her hips and he sank completely in her. Each spurt and pulse of his cock mixed with her.
Him.
Her.
Us.
Just as he promised, life would be for them. He completed her. She gave to him. Together, they gifted each other everything they could possibly need to survive an unforgiving world.
She eased herself down on the mattress. Cam groaned, slipping out of her, and stood at the side of the bed. She turned to look at him and pulled her legs up to her chest.
Cam stood, shoulders relaxed, head tilted to the side, his half lidded eyes warmed and directed at her. Her stomach fluttered and she melted even further into the afterglow. Her man, so tightly controlled with a hard-ass
attitude, gazed down at her with a love that could make her cry—if she had any energy left, which she didn't after he satisfied all her senses.
The overwhelmed, clouded gaze showed all his emotions he refused to speak about. She understood each one, because she experienced the same thing. She wanted to tell him they'd be okay.
She understood the fear of letting another person love her. He would, too, in his own time. He'd get used to the foreign reactions pushing reality aside, and for a man like Cam who kept his distance from everyone and never experienced a loving hand, he appeared to have been sucker punched and looked toward her to ease the pain.
"I love you," she mouthed, not making a sound.
His lips curved and he nodded, clarity coming over his face. "I wish I could stay with you tonight."
She pressed her hand to her chest. God, he killed her with one little sentence. She wasn't a selfish person in general, but she held on to his truth with the ferocity of a woman in love.
"I know you do, and as soon as you get back, I want you to sleep," she said. "You're getting run down. You're exhausted."
He scratched his chest and looked away. "I'm going to jump in the shower."
"Do you want company?" She sat up on the bed.
He held out his hand, and she followed him into the hall after a quick check to make sure Jeremy stayed outside with the other men. They took a shower in silence. She respected Cam's need to keep his thoughts under control and make the rest of the night about the club. His life, outside of her, belonged to the men who wore the Moroad patch. That included Jeremy.
She'd never attempt to change him or break the bond that had developed between the two.
She stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her body, and walked back to the bedroom with Cam. "Will you keep an eye on Jeremy tonight?"
"What's wrong with him?" Cam pulled a T-shirt over his head and grabbed his jeans.
She tossed the towel to the corner of the room and climbed up on the bed, reaching for the blanket. "I'm not sure, but he broke up with Tiff and has gone over to Lola's a few times. He'd stayed away from Lola when he was seeing Tiff."
