Rhythm of the Road

by Autumn Jones Lake

  “Oh my God.” She slaps my arm a few times. “It’s a warning about my stalker.”

  I glance at the cards again. I was going to say she needs to stop reading that stupid Sippin’ on Secrets blog. But her interpretation actually makes more sense. “That works. He’s a fucking reject who’s fixated on you.”

  “Oh, wow.” She covers her hand with her mouth. “I asked a career question the first time. Not a love reading. I should’ve known…He wouldn’t know who the heck I was if I didn’t have a career!”

  This feels like the most fucked-up mashup of a YouTube conspiracy video and Mad Libs game ever. But fuck do I love her and I never want her to doubt us.

  “Shelby.” I squeeze her tighter, aware what I’m about to say will make me sound like a bit of a dick. “No more love readings. You don’t need ’em. If I’m ever unclear, just ask me whatever the fuck you need to know. I’m much more straightforward than the universe will ever be.”

  “Where is this relationship going?” A smile teases the corners of her mouth up.

  “Is that what you’d ask during a love reading?”

  “Yup.”

  I cup her cheek, staring into her eyes. “Everywhere, Shelby. We’re going everywhere. Together.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Shelby

  The heaviness has left my heart. Sure, Mr. Creepy Letters is probably out there somewhere setting his silver pen of terror to black paper.

  But tonight, I’m safe with Rooster.

  I grab my bag and duck into the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth. I still can’t find my jammy pants so I slip on a T-shirt.

  Rooster’s shirtless with only a sheet covering him from the waist down when I return. It’s impossible to stay mad at him. Not when he tucks his hands behind his head, displaying his body like some sort of Viking warrior determined to claim my heart forever.

  I drop my bag on my side of the bed and flop down next him, trying not to stare.

  “What’s wrong, chickadee?” He doesn’t even bother to hide his smug smile at catching me checking him out.

  “You think you can lie there being all sexy and your manly muscles will make me drop my panties, don’t you?”

  “You’re not wearing panties.” In a quick move, he powers forward and wraps one big hand around my ankle, yanking me under him. He’s so dang strong, I might as well be a rag doll.

  I reach up, touching his cheek, memorizing every detail of his face. The chasm of love in my heart for this man scares me to pieces.

  “You know how much I love everything about you?” He brushes his lips over my forehead, my nose, my eyelids, and finally, my lips.

  “I love you too,” I whisper against his mouth. “So much…”

  “I need you in my life.” He runs his tongue down the column of my neck, stopping to suck at the sensitive dip between my neck and shoulder.

  “Gah.”

  He rumbles with laughter. “What’s that?”

  I can’t form an answer.

  Ribbons of desire uncurl and float through me as he licks the pad of his thumb. “I could come just from watching you do that.”

  One corner of his mouth hitches up. “That right?”

  I’m hyperaware of his hand sneaking under my T-shirt, grazing my thigh, and finally, of him rolling his thumb around my sweet spot.

  “It means you’re going to do that,” I whisper.

  “Do what?” He slips a finger inside me.

  “Touch me there.”

  He adds a second finger. “Where?”

  My toes curl into the comforter, balling it up under my feet.

  “Oh, God.” He goes deeper, hooking his fingers to rub the sensitive spot inside he alone has discovered and claimed.

  He pushes my shirt up with his free hand and rains kisses from my stomach to the tops of my thighs. I struggle to sit up and wrestle the shirt off, then brace both hands on the mattress so I can watch his fingers disappear in and out.

  I sigh and fall back as he picks up the pace. Tendrils of pleasure ripple down my legs. Warm, gentle waves reverberate throughout my body.

  “Do you have any idea how addicted I am to making you come?” He presses another kiss to my inner thigh.

  I glance down at him. “Maybe a little bit of a clue.” I let my head fall back.

  The bed shifts. There’s the crinkle of a condom wrapper and then he returns, covering my body with his, entering me in one long, slow stroke.

  “Come here,” he says softly, gathering me into a full-body embrace. I wrap my arms and legs around him, tipping my hips so he can thrust deeper.

  I can’t stop running my hands through his hair and down his back. Over his strong, sturdy shoulders. He dips down, taking my mouth in a blazing sweet kiss. When he draws back, he’s wearing that feral smile again.

  He pulls out. I gasp in surprise. “What are you doing?”

  In a quick, determined move, he lifts my hips and flips me over. “Show me that pose that drives me fucking nuts,” he demands.

  I peer over my shoulder and arch a brow. “Which one?”

  “Lady’s choice.”

  I shift my knees hip-width apart and stretch my arms in front of me, pressing my chest to the mattress. This one always seems to make him the growliest.

  “Fuck yeah.” His rough palm skates over my back. Under me, the mattress dips. Strong hands grip my hips, pulling me toward him as he slowly slides home.

  I gasp and squirm, shimmying my hips. “You’re too big for my britches.”

  His deep, warm laughter bubbles over me. “Fuck, I love the stuff that comes out of your mouth.”

  He pushes forward and I gasp again.

  “Easy,” he warns. “Up, up.” He tugs my hips, urgency bleeding into his voice. I press my palms into the bed, lifting myself.

  He uses the new position to adjust his angle and slide in deeper, slowly at first, giving me time.

  “Oh, fuck, that’s better.” I moan and arch my back, digging the heels of my hands into the mattress for leverage.

  I’m panting, squirming, and pushing against him when he drapes his body over me, one hand resting next to mine to keep the bulk of his weight off me. He pushes my hair to the side and kisses my shoulder.

  “Shelby.” His raw, gritty voice spirals my desire even higher. “I’m fucking you doggy-style and it’s not even forty-five minutes later.” He rumbles with laughter. “Admit my intuition is on point.”

  I attempt to crawl forward but he won’t let me, digging his fingers into my hips and pulling me back against him. The gesture says everything. Rooster may be sweet but he’s in control. Exactly the kind of man I want.

  Still, I can’t help teasing him. “Actually, right now, you’re being smug.” I wiggle my hips and barely bite back a moan. “Not fuckin’.”

  “Yeah?” He lets out a deep growl and jerks his hips forward. Hard. “How about now?”

  This time, I let go and surrender, stretching my arms in front of me again. I suck in a ragged breath. “Your intuition is king.”

  A growl of satisfaction rumbles out of him. He picks up a slow, steady pace, gliding along the perfect spot over and over.

  “Oh. Right there.”

  He kisses the curve between my neck and shoulder, scraping his teeth against my skin. Tingles burst over me, joining the riot of sensations. He slips his hand between my legs, swirling his fingers around my clit. “You like that?”

  “Y-yes.” I tightly close my eyes, concentrating on the building pleasure.

  He squeezes my ass, giving me a soft pop on each cheek before hammering into me with short, quick strokes. “Love your body. You drive me wild all day. Do you realize that?” He trails his fingers down my spine. “Love how soft you are all over. Fit me so well.” He grazes my inner thighs. “Love how strong you are too.”

  Our bodies might be grinding and roughly chasing release, but he’s making love to me with decadent words that leave me speechless.

  “Logan,” I gasp. He se
ems bigger, thicker than ever. Sparks light me up and I’m falling over the cliff into nothing but bliss.

  His body shudders and he stops moving, pulsing inside me, his fingers digging into my hips, holding me still. “Fuck.”

  Closing my eyes, I fall against the mattress. He drops down next to me, curling his body around mine. His big, rough hands rub my hip, my stomach, traveling higher to caress my shoulder. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  I turn over, squirming to get closer. I cup his face, stroking his bristly cheek with my thumb, staring into his eyes, willing him to feel my love for him. “Nope. I think you put me back together.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Rooster

  I’m up early the next morning, searching the clubhouse for Ice. I find him in his office, staring at the computer.

  My knock seems to startle him. He blinks and lifts his gaze.

  “Hey, Prez. Do you have time to chat?”

  “Yeah. Come on in.”

  “Heard there was some excitement over at the house yesterday. Is Anya okay?”

  “She’s fine.” He lifts his chin. “She’s upstairs.”

  “That’s good. She’s safe here.” I really don’t have time for small talk and slowly getting to the point. “So I have to ask. . .This is going to sound weird, but I need to borrow a few cameras. Just for the day.”

  “This ought to be good.” He cracks a smile.

  I explain Shelby’s situation and what I’m planning to do.

  He’s not laughing by the time I finish. He sits back in his chair with a thump. “That’s fucked up, Rooster.”

  “Since I disconnected the camera in my room…” I smirk at him, “…do you mind if I borrow it? And a few others?”

  He frowns at me. “What are you talking about?”

  I point to the corner of the room over his right shoulder where there’s a camera pointed at us. “Focused on the bed. A little disappointing, to be honest, brother.”

  Without a hint of shame or remorse, he laughs. “Where’d Shonda put you?”

  “Second floor, right hallway.”

  “Fuck. That’s not where we usually stick brothers. Sorry about that.”

  “I’m relieved you weren’t hoping to secretly tape me whacking off, but what the fuck are they there for?”

  A cold smile curves his lips. “Insurance.”

  I slap my hand on his desk and stand. “On second thought, I don’t even want to know.”

  “Probably safer that way.”

  “So, you mind if I borrow some electronics? She has the next two nights off, so I’ll get my own gear—”

  He slashes his hand through the air, cutting me off. “Don’t bother with that. I’ve got a few things that will work much better to help you catch this sick fucker.”

  Another day cooped up in a cage. In the summer. Perfect riding weather too. But there was no way to haul all this equipment to the arena on my bike. I’m grateful Ice doesn’t mind loaning out his truck, along with the thousands of dollars in cameras and computers.

  Shelby twists and stares at the boxes of goodies in the back seat. We shot her sunrise salutation video in the clubhouse’s backyard against the mountain backdrop. For a quick job, it came out nice. She said a few words to her fans, blew them a kiss, and we called it a wrap.

  I have a screen to play it on, three cameras for surveillance, a giant black viewing booth, a tablet, and a laptop.

  “I don’t even want to know what the giant black box was used for,” Shelby says. “Magician porn? Vampire porn?”

  “The possibilities are endless, chickadee. I didn’t ask too many questions.”

  I park near her van again, and Jigsaw slides up on my side.

  “Logan, wait.” Shelby rests her hand on my thigh.

  “What’s wrong?” I flip the middle console out of our way and pull her closer.

  She stares up at me with wide, glassy eyes. “Thank you. For all of…for everything you’re doing. You don’t have to. It means a lot,” she finishes on a whisper.

  I cup her cheek, rubbing my thumb over her bottom lip. “You trust me?”

  “I do.” Her answer comes without hesitation and it socks me in the gut.

  I can’t let her down.

  “Come on. Big day today.” I force more enthusiasm than I’m feeling into my voice. If it were up to me, I’d keep her locked up at the clubhouse where no one could get near her. “Sold-out show. Then two days off.”

  “I’m so looking forward to two whole days with you.”

  “Same. How’s your throat feel?” My gaze slides over her face and neck as she hums and works her jaw from side to side.

  “Hurts a little.”

  “We’re gonna have to rest your voice the next two days.”

  Jigsaw raps his knuckles against the glass. “Feelin’ a little left out here, guys!” he shouts through the window.

  “Jackass,” I grumble.

  Shelby pokes a finger in my side. “Be nice.”

  There’s no sign of Greg yet. Shelby sends a text to let him know we’re here. I want to set up my “viewing booth” as early as possible but I need to know which part of her merchandise table I can monopolize. For now, Jiggy and I drop off everything in her dressing room.

  Trent leans against the doorframe. “Morning. Greg’s down at security, checking out tapes from yesterday.”

  At least he’s being useful.

  A few minutes later, Greg stumbles into the room with a book tucked under his arm. Dark shadows under his eyes, wrinkled pants—doesn’t look like anything good kept him up all night.

  “Morning, Shelby. You ready for tonight?” His forced, upbeat tone fires up my danger radar.

  “I will be.”

  “Logan, can I talk to you out here for a sec?” Greg motions me into the hallway. Jigsaw follows. Trent stays behind with Shelby.

  Greg pulls a black envelope out of the book he’s carrying.

  I swear under my breath. “How? When?”

  “Trent found it on the van’s windshield this morning,” he says in a low voice.

  “At the hotel?”

  His grave expression doesn’t change. “Yes.”

  “Bro, this is bad.” Jigsaw elbows me. “Thank fuck you brought her to the clubhouse last night.”

  “I have to agree.” Greg’s gaze drops to the envelope. “He’s escalating.”

  I snap the envelope out of his hand and open it carefully.

  * * *

  Dearest Shelby,

  Your voice is such a lovely gift. It’s a crime to share it with a world that does not appreciate you. Up close, you remind me of a soft, tiny rabbit. Cautious, yet unaware of the dangers that surround vulnerable creatures in need of the safety of a cage.

  * * *

  You seem awfully cozy with that big, bearded man. A man that crude can’t possibly provide the discipline you require. Or supply you with the proper intellectual stimulation you have been lacking.

  * * *

  Worry not—I am capable of providing for you and our children. You won’t need to pursue anything else. Your heart will be content where you belong. You were built to properly care for your husband and children. I will lavish you with all the attention you require. In case you misunderstood my other letters—you belong to me, Shelby.

  Very soon.

  M

  Fear—something I haven’t felt in a long time—snakes through my insides, followed by mind-melting rage. I’m going to gut this motherfucker and hang him from a fucking tree as a warning to every other sicko.

  “Bro, what the ever-loving fuck?” Jigsaw’s low, disbelieving voice is almost as disturbing as the letter itself. Not much shocks him. “This dude’s fifty kinds of twisted.”

  “It’s bad,” Greg agrees. “I’ve never seen anything quite that…unsettling before.”

  “You’ve had other clients deal with stalkers?”

  “Obsessed fans that get carried away.” He stops and seems to consider the question caref
ully. “No one that seemed to mean actual harm. This guy is several Fruit Loops short of a cereal box.” He slips the letter out of my fingers and tucks it back inside the book. “Dawson sweet-talked the hotel manager into letting us go through the security footage. It’s hard to tell from the angle of the camera and where we were parked, but it looks like it was this guy.”

  He turns his phone my way and a grainy picture fills the screen. From the width and set of the shoulders, it’s almost certainly a man. He’s average height, judging him against the vehicles in the background. On the heavier side. Wearing a windbreaker with the hood obscuring his face. The image is one fucking notch above useless.

  “It’s not great.” Greg echoes my thoughts. “I have a copy of the video, and I’ll send it to you to compare against the ones from tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Local PD won’t do anything. I think they figure we’re rolling out of their jurisdiction tomorrow, so it’s not their problem.”

  “Big surprise.”

  “I have an FBI contact but until there’s more of an overt threat, they won’t get involved either.”

  “That’s just fucking great.” Jigsaw smacks my arm. “We’ve got this, bro.”

  “You got some space for me up front?” I ask Greg.

  “It’s all set up. The girls working the table know you’re installing a booth but they don’t know about any of this. Just that it’s for the fans. Anyone is allowed to stop in and check it out.”

  “Good.” This is better than I’d hoped for. I’d fully expected Greg to dick me around all morning. Guess this letter finally woke his ass up.

  “Listen, I don’t want to tell Shelby about this now.” Greg lowers his voice. “Not before her show.”

  Fuck. I don’t want to keep stuff from her, but I’m not sure what good it will do to terrify her when she needs to start shifting her mindset to going onstage. “I’ll bring her up to speed tonight.”

  Behind us, the door opens and I quickly stand back, hoping Shelby didn’t overhear us. But it’s Trent. He lifts his chin my way. “She’s looking for you.”