by Elle Kennedy
But that was the problem. She was adult enough that every single Enforcer was openly leering at her.
Shit.
Christine had been washing clothes at the sink, and the front of her white dress was soaked. Even though she was fourteen, the wet cloth stuck to her chest, revealing womanly curves. The bare hint of sexuality was enough to make these boys pant like hounds hunting a bird.
“C’mere, Crissy.” Sloan gestured for the girl to join him.
She sidled along the side of the room until she reached him. He planted his large frame in front of her smaller one and crossed his arms. A few of the Enforcers had the decency to look away, but one, a blond kid with a scar on his forehead, sneered in their direction.
“They were right. This place is a fucking dump filled with fucking whores.” He kicked over a metal pail and the stench of rotted vegetables filled the air.
“Really think a crate of ammunition is going to be hiding under a composting pail?” Sloan asked mockingly.
The Enforcer started to lift his rifle, and Sloan instantly reached behind his back.
“What’s going on here?” Reese’s voice cut through the tension, but the kid didn’t lower his gun. “Eric,” she called at the staircase, “you’ve searched for three hours. Your men are tired. Come down and take care of this.”
There were thumps upstairs and then a clatter of boots on the stairs. Eric appeared without delay and took in the scene before him: the trigger-happy Enforcer, Sloan with his hand behind his back reaching for his sidearm, the young woman crouching behind him.
“Stand down,” Eric muttered to his soldier, before marching toward the door. “We’re watching you, Reese. We know that a unit came out here about two months ago and never came back. I’d be careful if I were you.”
“I’m always careful.” Reese said lightly. “When you live out here, you’re born careful.”
“Don’t know why anyone would choose this life.”
“Because out here we actually have a choice.” She gave him her caustic smile, the one a man would see before she put a bullet between his eyes. “We can choose to live how we want. We don’t take people from their families and make them live with strangers. We can do what we want, when we want. That’s why we choose this life.”
“Don’t get drunk on your freedom, Reese,” Eric warned. “The ammo depot was only scratching the surface of what the council has. A few guns in the hands of certain parties don’t mean shit.”
“Hope not. We wouldn’t want the bandits to get us,” Reese replied with a straight face.
Rylan and Sloan exchanged barely suppressed grins as Reese ushered Eric to the exit.
8
Few in the camp breathed easily even after the gates closed behind the last Enforcer truck. The usual laughter and chatter in the community was replaced by tense silence and stiff shoulders as the residents applied themselves to erasing the council’s touch from their belongings. Rylan’s gaze caught on Reese standing in front of Graham’s restaurant, halfway down the main road. Her eyes were fixed on the dust clouds the Enforcer trucks had left behind.
With the enemy gone, her guard was down and the worry radiating off her was so strong Rylan felt it a hundred paces away. He flicked his gaze to Sloan, who leaned against one of the front windows of the rec hall that hosted the town’s communal gatherings. Like the one yesterday that had led to the hottest threesome of Rylan’s life.
Sloan was staring at Reese with a narrowed, thoughtful gaze, and Rylan stepped off the curb and started toward him, wondering if the quiet muscle behind Reese’s orders would give him some insight into how to crack Reese’s shell. If Rylan believed that she didn’t want him again, he’d leave her alone, but after last night it was going to take more than a few weak refusals to get him to stay away.
His plan to gather intel from Sloan was interrupted when Nash, one of Reese’s men, opened the rec hall door and poked his head out. “Got a minute?” he called to Sloan.
“Yup, what do you need?” Sloan asked without taking his eyes off Reese.
“Connor’s camp just radioed the inventory of what we took from the ammo depot. Con’s on the sat phone, wants to know how we’re going to distribute the weapons.”
“I’ll be right there.” Sloan turned to follow Nash inside, but before he disappeared, he caught Rylan’s eye and jerked his head toward Reese, who had just ducked inside her building.
If there was anyone who knew what Reese wanted, it’d be Sloan.
Rylan didn’t waste time. He strode to the two-story brownstone on Main Street and entered behind her. He didn’t bother to knock. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission and all that.
He found her upstairs in her small kitchen, arms braced against the counter as she stared out the window at the unkempt yard behind the building. It was empty, save for a decrepit playset in the back corner. The slide was long gone, but a single swing hung from a rusted bar.
“When you die,” she said without turning around, “I’m going to dub you Saint Rylan, patron of lost causes.”
Rylan stepped close enough that he could feel the heat from her body, but far enough away that there was room for her to escape. “How’d you know it was me instead of Sloan?”
“Your footsteps are different.”
“Huh.” He chewed on that piece of information a bit. He was probably reading too much into it, but the fact that she could distinguish his footsteps from someone else’s? That was all the encouragement he needed to stay. “You’re a damn impressive woman, Reese.”
“Is that right? Because I can tell you and Sloan apart?” She sounded tired, almost resigned.
Rylan experienced a pang of concern. Connor had never sounded like this before, but then again, Rylan’s leader had never been in charge of eighty-plus people before either. Con kept his camp small. Even Hudson, his woman, had been an interloper he hadn’t wanted to take in.
Reese, on the other hand, threw her doors open to any misfits, wanderers, and beggars that rattled on her gates.
Rylan briefly pondered what it would’ve been like growing up if there’d been a Reese around when he was young. Maybe then every night wouldn’t have been filled with his mother’s tears and his father’s angry shouts, followed by mournful pleas for forgiveness and hollow exchanges of I love you.
“That, and because you’ve got a vision for the future that few people would ever try to make a reality,” he said frankly.
“You and Connor think I’m nuts, don’t you?”
“Nah, brave.”
And maybe a little foolish, but hell, if it wasn’t for Reese’s foot in their asses, they’d still be holed up in their isolated camp, avoiding Enforcers and scavenging for supplies. Reese’s plan was big and bold and possibly suicidal, but the alternative was to cower, and Rylan had had enough of that.
She sighed and finally turned to look at him. “Did Sloan send you in here to cheer me up?”
Was that a dig? It kinda felt like one. But it was also true—Sloan had sent him. Or at least given him the signal that he wasn’t totally barking up the wrong tree by running after Reese.
He searched her eyes for traces of derision, but he only saw fatigue with a side of melancholy. He wanted to scoop this tough woman into his arms and pleasure her until she was too satisfied to frown.
“I’m here because last night was the best sex I’ve ever had. Because walking away from you isn’t an option for me.”
She made a strangled sound—half laugh, half groan—and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. “Is that all you can think about?”
“Around you? Yup. I fuck and I fight. Don’t scratch too deep because there’s nothing there.”
She snorted in disbelief. “Tell that to someone who’ll believe you.”
Rylan’s brow furrowed. He’d always skated on the surface of intimacy, enjoyin
g the physical nature of sex—the hot embrace, the rough friction, the sharp desire. What he’d just told Reese was absolutely true. He didn’t feel deeply. He could appreciate it in others, but he’d witnessed firsthand the emptiness of love. What he wanted, and what he could give, was pleasure and nothing more.
“What’re you talking about?” he finally asked, feeling slightly off-center that Reese saw something in him that didn’t exist.
She studied him for a moment before waving her hand carelessly. “It’s nothing. Look, last night was hot, but there’s nothing left here for you.” She presented her back to him and stared out the window again.
Was that a challenge? Sure sounded like one.
He placed a hand on the counter beside her hips and looked down at the top of her head. Her red hair glowed as the sunlight streamed in through the window. Reese had such a large presence that Rylan sometimes forgot how small she actually was. From this perspective, he understood Sloan’s protectiveness a whole lot better.
Speaking of Sloan . . . “Do you need to have Sloan here?” he asked slowly. “Because I don’t mind if he watches again.”
“No, it’s not Sloan. I don’t have time for sex.”
“Why? You running off to take down an Enforcer troop right now?”
“There’s stuff to do,” she protested.
“There’s always stuff to do. You know, you don’t strike me as someone who makes a habit of turning away from things that she truly wants. As you told old Eric out there, the number one reason to be an outlaw is to have choice.”
He slipped a hand around her abdomen and pulled her flush against his body so that his erection was pressed into her back. He spread his fingers until his thumb reached past her breastbone and his little finger delved below her navel. With his chin, he nudged her hair to one side and ran his nose along her neck. The blood in her vein pumped wildly in response.
“You have a lot on your plate, gorgeous,” he whispered into the delicate shell of her ear. “I’m a simple soldier. A weapon. You point me in the direction you need me to go and I’ll execute your mission. I’m not much of a thinker but even I can sense when someone’s head is about to explode. You’re wound so tight right now, I’m worried you won’t be able to breathe.”
“You treat Connor this way?” she accused, her anger betraying some of the agitation that vibrated through her.
“Damn straight I would. I’d haul him off and get him drunk or, if he really wanted it, we’d fuck. If I had the choice, though, I’d pick the soft curves of a woman over the hard planes of a man any day.” Rylan brought his free hand up to curl around her neck, tipping her head to rest against his shoulder.
“You think sex is the answer to everything, don’t you?”
“It’s not?” He dipped his knees, snugged his dick against her ass, and ground his hips against hers.
“Did you ask about Sloan because you need an audience?” she taunted.
“I asked because I want to make sure you’ve got everything you need.” Still holding her neck, he reached up to drag his thumb across her lips, then pushed it through the seams. “Suck,” he whispered.
Her lips closed around him, pulling him inside her mouth. She rubbed the flat of her tongue along the underside of his thumb, and the lick and suck went all the way to his cock. When she bit down, he almost came in his pants.
“Reese,” he groaned as he slid his thumb out of her mouth. “I want you. Don’t know why you’re denying yourself.”
“Because I’m an adult with a shit ton of responsibilities and I can’t be spending all my time in bed with you.”
They both knew that was a hollow excuse, but Rylan released her anyway. When she sagged against the counter, he almost took pity on her. Instead, he kicked one of the chairs out from under the kitchen table and sat down in it. The slow slide of his zipper caused her to turn around.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“I’m hard and horny and since you claim you’re not interested, I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”
His shaft was engorged and aching. The touch of his rough hand was familiar, but not entirely welcome, because his dick knew there were better, softer, wetter, hotter things in the room. His hand would have to do, though.
It helped a helluva lot that Reese’s eyes were pinned to his crotch. With a slight smile, he palmed himself and used his thumb to spread the pearls of pre-come around the sensitive head.
“You know you want me,” he murmured to her.
“Keep telling yourself that,” she murmured back.
But every second she spent watching him reaffirmed his belief. After all, no one was holding her down while he was jacking off. Sloan wasn’t standing behind her, arms locked around her waist, hand fixed on her chin, forcing her to look. She was there because she wanted him, damn it. Because she wanted to watch him.
“I haven’t done this in front of someone in a long time,” Rylan admitted. “Too many willing people around.”
“Why don’t you find one of those willing people, then?” she tossed back.
“Because you like this too much.” The veins in his forearm rippled as he roughly worked himself. He paused, lifted his hand to spit on it, and then reached down to grip himself again.
Reese didn’t take her eyes off his dick, not even once.
Grinning, he tilted his hips off the chair to shove his cargo pants to his ankles. He kicked one leg free, then spread his legs to give her a better view.
He stroked himself, root to tip and back again. Reese tracked every movement as if she was memorizing how he touched himself so she could either play it back in her head or figure out how he really liked his hand jobs. Maybe both.
“What was your favorite position last night?” he asked in a tone that could’ve been used to inquire about the weather.
“Nothing . . .” Her voice came out raspy. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Nothing I haven’t done before.”
“That wasn’t what I asked,” he said playfully. “It’s all right. I can’t pick a favorite either. It was all too damn good. I’m surprised I was able to get it up so many times, but then I had quite the inspiration.”
“Sloan’s an attractive man,” she mocked.
“No doubt, but we both know I didn’t mean Sloan.” He reached down with his free hand to cup his balls. He rolled them gently between his fingers and then tugged with enough force that he felt the right amount of pain mixed with the pleasure. “I liked it when you rode me cowgirl style. You’ve got a gorgeous ass, baby. I loved looking at it, squeezing it. Your hair looked like fire licking along your spine. And I loved watching your cunt swallow my dick with each stroke. Every scrape from your nails as they dug into my knees only got me hotter because I knew you were really lost in the moment.”
They both lowered their gazes to his knees. Sure enough, there were deep gouge marks on either side where Reese had gripped him while she’d straddled him. While Sloan sat in the corner and stared at them both.
Rylan’s balls tightened at the wicked memory. He pumped harder. “I also enjoyed it when Sloan held you down. Actually, it’d be filthy as hell to have you entirely restrained while we both went at you. How wet do you think your pussy would get then? How wet is it now?”
Reese’s cheeks were fiery red. And this was not a woman who blushed. This was pure arousal, and Rylan knew if he touched her skin right now, it would be scorching hot.
Sweat beaded at his forehead and ran down the side of his face. His large frame trembled with the effort of staving off the orgasm that pulsed at the base of his spine. “The real kicker would be taking you at the same time. Can you imagine how tight you’d feel? How full? There’d be no room in your head for any kind of guilt or worry or concern. There’d only be me and Sloan and every goddamned sensation we could wring from your body.”
Her
lips parted. Her jagged breaths matched the rough tugs on his dick. Jesus. He wanted her to crawl over, straddle his legs, and take his heavy, aching cock inside her welcoming body. He wanted her to seize his mouth in a biting, passionate kiss.
But he settled for her hot gaze instead, stroking to a hard finish as the seed from his body spilled into his hand and splashed his abs.
And not once did Reese look away.
9
Dealing with another outlaw leader was a headache. Dealing with four of them? It was a goddamn migraine. But Reese had only herself to blame for this meeting. Actually, forget that—Rylan was to blame.
Her frustration levels had been at an all-time high ever since Rylan’s impromptu sex show the other day. She’d told herself that she was inviting the other camp leaders for strategy meetings because she was in a hurry to move forward with her plans, but deep down she knew she was just looking for a distraction. She was so eager for it, in fact, that she’d even allowed Beckett to fly their helicopter—wasting valuable fuel—to pick up Brynn from the coast and Mick in the south, rather than wait for them to make the long drive. Luckily, Garrett, the leader of a small northern community, and Connor, whose camp was nearby, were both less than a day’s drive away.
Now she was regretting extending the invitations. For the hundredth time in the last hour, Reese wished she could send everyone home and go forward with her plans using her own people. But that was a foolish dream. If she wanted to destroy the council and take the city, she needed all the allies she could get.
The five of them—well, six, because Sloan was sitting in on the meeting—were gathered in the living area of Reese’s apartment, poring over maps that each leader had brought to the table.
Notably absent was Tamara, an outlaw smuggler who Reese trusted with her life. Tam had connections all over the Colonies, but she was currently in South Colony recruiting other outlaws to the cause. Reese wished she were here, though. God knew there’d be a lot less bickering this afternoon if Tam was present. The woman was deadly with a knife and had a habit of pulling one out whenever anyone tested her patience. Then again, if Tam were here, she’d want to fuck Rylan, and that would piss Reese off even more.
