by Jenika Snow
The way he touched me.
The feeling of his hands on my body.
The fact I’ve never been so aroused with another man.
And the way he’d made me come.
She braced her hands on the sink, breathed out, and she closed her eyes. He’d left dinner and gone to take a shower, and she’d been thinking about what he looked like without clothes on, how powerful he’d look totally naked, and how she felt so small and feminine in his presence. Exhaling once more, she turned from the sink and headed down the hallway to the bedroom. She should just go to sleep, and she hoped her dreams wouldn’t be filled with images of all the filthy things Fury would do to her.
And then right before she got to her room the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out. She stopped, frozen for a second as she waited to see if Fury would emerge. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and she felt her pulse throbbing in her throat. The light went off in the bathroom, and then Fury came out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his lean waist.
The only light on was the one that came from the kitchen and living room. It was the backdrop for this heated encounter, and yet she was the one that felt like she was burning alive. Fury wasn’t even looking at her yet, not with the small towel over his head as he dried off his hair.
Her heart raced, her body reacting instantly to the sight of him in nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. There were beads of water still on his hard, tattooed and muscular chest, and she curled her hands into tight fists at her sides. She knew she should just keep going, to keep her head down and her thoughts clean. But God, she was still on edge from the orgasm he gave her, which now seemed like it had been ages ago. There was something darkly addictive about Fury, and something twisted about herself, that had Angelina wanting him so damn much.
A light sheen of perspiration formed between her breasts, her breathing quickened, and her nipples grew hard. Her pussy was wet, had been from the moment she stood at the sink washing dishes and thought about Fury touching her.
I should keep walking, and not act like I want him.
But all she could do was stare. He took a step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. And then he removed the towel from his head and looked right at her. The fact he didn’t appear surprised to see her had Angelina wondering if Fury had known she’d been standing here the whole time.
They stood there, neither speaking nor moving, and then he moved closer to her until he was a foot from her. The smell of him, darkly rich, clean, and intoxicating, washed over her. The need to just close her eyes and sway toward him ran strong in her, but she needed to show him he didn’t affect her, that she wasn’t this fucked up little girl that wanted the man that had kidnapped her.
You’re not a captive anymore.
He was so big and tall, so intense and dangerous. Maybe that’s why she wanted him the way she did? His masculinity and testosterone surrounded her, rivaled any other man she’d ever been around. He didn’t move, just looked down at her with his eyes at half-mast. Angelina swallowed, knowing the smart thing to do was to leave this place, to run from him, yet she didn’t want that.
Like she was someone else, Angelina found herself lifting her hand, maybe to touch him, or maybe to push him away. But she chickened out at the last moment and curled her nails into her palm, about to move her hand back to her side. As if he anticipated the act, Fury grabbed her wrist in a firm, unmoving hold. She couldn’t think, let alone breathe. He placed her hand on his chest, right over his heart. His skin was warm, smooth, and the steady beat of his heart right under her palm told her he was calm, collected. She, on the other hand, felt like her heart would explode right through her chest. Was he so unaffected by her?
She licked her lips and saw Fury’s gaze dip down to watch the motion. She wanted to be pressed up against him, wanted to have her mouth on his, but she was too afraid, to too nervous to even move.
But before Angelina could react in any way, Fury let go of her wrist and took a step back. But they were still so close together, and the scent of him washed through her, making Angelina feel drunk.
“I…” Angelina had no idea what she should say. Fury was raw, animalistic sex appeal, and she was helpless to stop herself from succumbing to it.
He moved an inch closer once more, and she pressed herself against the wall, feeling trapped, but loving it, as well. And when he was close enough that she felt his erection dig into her belly, this whimpering sound left her on its own. He lowered his head until their lips were mere inches apart, and then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“Mmm, you smell really fucking good.” His voice was low and so deep. Fury slowly opened his eyes, the darkness of them drilling holes right into her soul.
Their breaths mingled together as their gazes stayed locked. She knew that if she leaned in just a little, her lips would press against his, and she’d end this need inside of her, or at least tame it for a bit. Her pussy clenched involuntarily, and she had to hold back the moan that would have spilled forth. The only thing keeping her from the monster between his thighs was a thin piece of terrycloth. That thought had more moisture leaving her pussy.
“I don’t think you really understand the kind of motherfucker I am, Angelina,” he said, his focus still trained on her eyes. “If you did you wouldn’t be wet for me right now.”
“I’m not wet for you.”
Liar.
He didn’t show expression, but he did curl the corner of his mouth up. “Do you really want me to prove you wrong on that?”
She wanted to say something, to deny the effect he had on her, but the words were lodged in her throat.
“Do you really want me to show you what a liar you are?” He leaned in that last inch and ran his tongue over her bottom lip, then did the same to her top, making this gruff sound as she stood there accepting his touch. “Do you really want me to touch your pussy and show you exactly how primed you are for me?” His lips moved along hers as he spoke. The act shouldn’t have been as erotic as it was, but when he pulled away all she was left feeling was the tingling of where his tongue had been.
And without another word, and before she could respond to what he’d said, he turned from her and left her standing there aroused and wet, and feeling so damn confused.
She moved away from the wall, her knees buckling, her legs unsteady. Without another thought she went back into her room, shut the door, and leaned against it. Her heart was thundering behind her ribs. They may not have done anything, not really, but what had just happened in the hallway was intense, explosive, and so damn arousing her entire body was on fire for Fury.
Chapter Twelve
It had only been one fucking day and Nando was already feeling like this was going to be one of the easiest damn jobs he’d ever done. The club was clearly oblivious to the fact they could be on someone’s shit list, or maybe they didn’t give a shit. He didn’t know jack about the MC, but what Nando did know was in order to stay alive there was never a chance to let his guard down. He was already prepared, always ready for things to go to hell. It’s how he’d lasted this long in the game.
He took a hit off the cigarette, finishing it before stubbing it out. Bringing the scope up again he focused on the club. He didn’t know what the MC had done to piss off Sal, but it had to be pretty hardcore for the Cardona leader to get Nando involved.
Nando was the last line to get shit covered.
Through the scope he saw two men leaving the MC, one of the fuckers looking like he was in pain, and hobbling toward an SUV. The other guy tried to help the injured one, but the one with a serious limp pushed him off. They argued for several seconds before they started making their way toward the vehicle again. And then three more big fuckers in leather vests came out of the clubhouse looking pissed as they headed toward the vehicle.
All the men started speaking, their expressions warping to rage the longer they spoke. Nando didn’t know what was up, or if this would be the lead to find Angelina, but he d
idn’t fucking care either. It was like watching a train wreck as these assholes came undone together.
After watching them for several minutes Nando grabbed his shit and left the motel. This might be the easiest fucking job he’d even been paid to do.
Once in his car he was about to crank the engine and follow the SUV once it hit the road, but he spotted a taxi pulling up to the front gates. He watched as a young woman got out, a suitcase in her hand. She stood there for several seconds just staring at the MC, the taxi finally pulling away moments later. It was clear she was at war with herself. When she finally made her way to the gate and was let through, Nando leaned back in the driver’s seat.
He didn’t have time to be curious about some bitch that was involved with the Bleeding Mayhem, but then again she might be a little leverage in this game.
This was a war, and he was going to be the victor one way or another.
****
This had to be a mistake, she knew that, but Allie didn’t know where else to go. She gripped the handle of the suitcase tightly and breathed out slowly as she walked up the paved driveway to the Bleeding Mayhem clubhouse. Only glancing over her shoulder once, she saw the two MC members that had let her through the gates staring at her. Focusing forward again, Allie felt her heart thundering. She didn’t know how her mother would react to her being here. Her mom had left years ago, and they’d spoken rarely as the years went on, but her mother was all the family Allie had. Her father, that worthless asshole, was drunk more times than not, and as soon as Allie graduated high school she had told herself she’d leave. Well, she had, but it had been into the arms of an abusive man that took from her more than she was willing to give. Now at twenty-three she was tired of the shitty life she’d always thrown herself into, and wanted a fresh start.
She hoped she found that here, or at least had her mother’s support and help in getting there.
Grabbing the handle of the front door she pulled it open. The music was the first thing that slammed into her, followed by the scent of cigarette and weed smoke. But Allie was used to this type of scene. Her father had been the partying type for as long as she could remember. Allie had just been used to locking herself in the basement and cranking her own music up, drowning out the sounds above her.
She waited for her vision to adjust, and then glanced around the clubhouse. It was clearly a party scene, but it was surprisingly clean. Leather couches were on one side, pool and foosball tables on the other. A full bar was up against the wall across from her, and there was a hallway next to that. Some closed doors were scattered around, and pictures of men on motorcycles, women half dressed, and even a half dismembered Harley hung from the ceiling. It was quite a scene.
“Hey, honey, I think you’re in the wrong place.”
Allie looked over at the woman who spoke. She was drunk, or at least smelled like a brewery. She also had on a tube top that was pulled down so one of her tits was hanging out. Her skirt wasn’t much better, not with the damn thing pulled down low and nearly showing off her pussy.
“No, I’m in the right spot. I’m looking for Barbie.” Allie didn’t know if her mother was going by that name or not, especially since she was at the clubhouse. But given the way the woman looked confused, Allie had to assume she either wasn’t here, or she didn’t go by Barbie.
The woman turned and faced the people milling around. “Hey, anyone know a Barbie?”
There was a rush of murmurs, some people shaking their heads. Allie started to get discouraged that maybe her mother had bailed on this location, as well, but she’d just spoken to her a month ago—and before that it had been going on a year since they’d talked. Her mother wasn’t exactly the winner of Mother of the Year.
And then there she was, coming out of the hallway, her focus on her skirt as she pulled it down. A big guy in leather followed behind, buttoning up his pants and fixing his belt.
Nice.
“Anyone know a Barbie?” the woman hollered out again.
Allie’s mother snapped her head up, and their gazes clashed.
Yeah, Mom, it’s really me.
Her mother walked up to her, stared at Allie for long seconds, and then pulled her in for a hug. She smelled like cigarettes and sex, a scent that had Allie wrinkling her nose.
“Who the hell is Barbie?” the drunk woman said from behind them, and Allie pulled away from her mom to look at the woman. She had her hand braced on the wall, and swayed slightly.
“I am,” Allie’s mother said.
The drunken woman blinked. “I thought you were Trixie.”
Allie looked at her mom, a brow lifted. Her mother shrugged and smiled.
“Barbie is my real name.”
The drunken lady nodded, still looked confused, and then turned and left.
“What are you doing here?” Allie’s mother asked.
For a second she didn’t answer, didn’t want to admit that she’d allowed herself to get involved with an asshole that verbally abused her and slapped her around. It was humiliating, because what stupid fucking woman—who knew better, which she did—allowed herself to be treated like that? Allie’s mom had left because her father had been a prick to her, and she had her own issues. But there was still a part of Allie that was so angry with her mom for leaving her there, for abandoning her even if she sent money and called. How many times had Allie asked her mother to come get her, to take her away?
Drugs, depression, and being bipolar will do that to a person.
But her mom looked clean and healthy. “You look good,” Allie said.
Her mother smiled. “Thanks, hun. I’m been sober for a while now, and just got back on my meds. Things are doing well.”
Yet you still only called me once a year unless I tracked you down.
Don’t go down that path.
You’re here now, need her help, and she looks well.
“As glad as I am to see you, I am surprised you’re here. Everything good?”
Allie wasn’t going to beat around the bush. She’d traveled too far and left what little she had in order to start new. She shook her head, being honest. “No, things aren’t good.” Just then the sight of this massively huge man coming out of one of the rooms drew Allie’s attention. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, and weighing close to three hundred pounds of pure muscle. He was huge, and her five-foot-seven frame seemed tiny compared to him. Allie couldn’t stop looking at him. He placed a joint to his mouth, lit the end, and inhaled deeply, the end becoming red. He tipped his head to a few of the bikers that called out to him. But the music was so loud she couldn’t hear what they’d called him.
Allie was aware her mother was rambling on, but for whatever reason she just couldn’t look away from the man. And when he went up to the bar, sat down, and braced a hand on the counter, she felt her heart beat faster. There was something about him that drew her like a moth to a flame. It was such a clichéd saying, but in this moment that was exactly how she felt.
And then he turned his head, scanning the club right before his focus landed on hers. Allie couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t turn away and not seem weird for gawking at him. His dark hair was short and messy, like he didn’t give a shit about how it looked. He had tattoos covering both of his arms, and she even saw some coming up from under the collar of his shirt. How much of his body was inked up? Tattoos were one of her weaknesses on a man, for sure.
Maybe that’s why I get involved with the wrong guys, because their tatted up bodies were ones bad boys sported?
The man straightened, his massive body looking like one she would see in a ring, taking down his opponents.
“You can’t stay here, Allie,” her mother said, and Allie snapped her head toward her mother’s direction.
“What?” she asked, shocked. “Why?”
“This isn’t a place I want you to be at. You’re better than this.”
Allie shook her head, knowing she looked incredulous. Her mother was saying those words because t
hey were a cop-out for not wanting to be around her. “You’re turning me away when I need your help?”
“No, honey, no. I have an apartment I rarely stay at, but have all my shit there. You’re more than welcome to stay there.”
Allie couldn’t believe this. On one hand she was thankful her mother was offering her a place, but on the other hand it was clear Barbie didn’t want Allie at the same place she hung out at.
“So you’re never at the apartment?” She tried to hide her hurt and disappointment.
Why do you care? This woman hasn’t been a mom to you for so long it shouldn’t matter.
Her mother shook her head. “I really only stop there to pick up my shit. I’m at the club mostly.”
Allie just nodded, hurt, but knowing she shouldn’t be. Her mother had left her years ago, and although she appeared like she was cleaning herself up, she still didn’t want a daughter hanging around.
“We’ll talk about this and why you’re really here later tonight okay?” Her mom grabbed a piece of paper and pen from a nearby table and wrote down where the apartment was. “I’ll be there later.”
Allie didn’t say anything, just gave one more look at her mom, and lifted her head to where the beefy man was sitting. He had his focus still trained on her, and a chill raced up her spine. Without thinking anymore about this she left the club, walked out the open gates, and sat her ass down on the curb. She should just leave, but she had nowhere else to go, and little money.
Why did I even bother coming here? I should have known Barbie wouldn’t have been there for me, not really.
But Allie had no place else to go, and this was her last option … her only option.
Allie stood, adjusted her suitcase, and started walking down the street and away from the clubhouse. The feeling of being followed had her looking over her shoulder. A dark vehicle stopped right behind her, which had Allie curious. Was it someone from the club? The man behind the wheel had dark glasses on and his focus trained right on her.
A tingling on the back of her neck told her this was a bad situation, but she couldn’t move as she watched him exit the vehicle and walk toward her. And then fear slammed into her, and there was only one thing she thought at that moment… You should run.
