“I didn’t want to tell you yet.”
“How? Were they together? Was it an accident? Jagger, tell me! They were my parents too!”
Swiping his hands down his face, he tries to hide his red eyes and I see the tattoos on his hands.
Mother on one hand.
Daddy on the other.
A tribute to the two people who brought us into this world.
The two people I never got the chance to say goodbye to.
The two people who died thinking they’d finally be reunited with their daughter.
When Jagger drops his hands, his eyes again give away the truth as his voice speaks the dreaded words.
“They were killed.”
DEUCE
I traded my bike for the truck and dropped her presents off at the motel. Deciding her birthday celebration would begin once we got back, I’d make her open her gifts and then I’d ask her to ride. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a woman on the back of my bike, clinging to me as we rode until the gas ran out.
That was going to be the plan for tonight.
Ignoring the devil on my shoulder warning me I was playing with fire, I made my way to the hospital. I park the truck and head for the elevators, figuring I’ll check in with Ally before I visit Linc. He’ll probably throw me out of his room and tell me to go fuck myself, but I’m not a quitter.
Pushing the button for Cobra’s floor, the elevator doors close and my phone rings. Smiling to myself, I reach into my leather jacket and count how many times Ally’s called or texted today. If it was any other girl, I probably would have dragged my ass to Verizon and changed my number. Fuck, I would have blocked her ass too.
Lifting the phone to my ear, I start to greet her but my words get stuck in my throat when I hear her sob.
“Where are you?” she shrieks.
“Ally, what’s going on? What happened?”
Choking on her sobs she doesn’t answer me right away and my pulse begins to race as I drag my fingers through my hair. Every possible fucked up scenario beats me down as she continues to hyperventilate. I like to think of myself as a man who doesn’t get spooked easily. A man who has lived hard and seen the things I have doesn’t do fear. He doesn’t let that shit affect him. Until he stands in an elevator listening to a woman cry. I swore it wouldn’t happen again; that I wouldn’t be the useless guy standing with his dick in his hand.
“Ally,” I shout desperately into the phone.
The elevator sounds, alerting me that I’ve made it to Cobra’s floor and I’m about to charge out of it when the doors slide open and Ally stands in front of me. Holding the phone to her ear, crying uncontrollably, she lifts her eyes to mine and relief washes over me.
I barely have a chance to spread my arms before she runs into them. Clinging to me like I’m her salvation, she drops the phone and the elevator closes as I wrap her tightly in my arms.
“You’re okay,” I breathe against the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”
“Please don’t let go,” she cries, burying her face in my chest.
There isn’t a fucking chance in hell I’d let her go now, but I keep that to myself, unsure if the words will make it past the lump in my throat. Leaning against the back wall of the elevator, I continue to hold her as she cries and the elevator makes its way back down to the main lobby.
Once the doors open again, I pull back slightly and cup her face with both my hands. Her upturned nose is red from crying and for some reason I bend my knees, pressing my lips to the tip.
“You’re okay,” I repeat, staring into her red rimmed eyes.
“They’re dead,” she whimpers. “My parents are gone, and it’s all my fault.” Her lower lip quivers as she stares back at me, eyes pleading to take away her pain.
I wish I could.
I wish I could erase every bad thing that’s ever happened to her. I wish I could restore her faith in the world.
In life.
The thing is; I don’t know where to begin or how to be what she needs.
Cradling her to my side, I usher her off the elevator and out of the hospital, stopping every so often to place a kiss on the top of her head, reminding her she’s not alone and that this is one horrible thing she doesn’t have to face by herself.
From the first time she mentioned her parents, I knew Ally would break at the revelation. No one wants to hear the awful news of their parents’ death and they sure as hell don’t want to hear that they were murdered. None of us, not me nor her brother or even Celeste, could have prepared Ally for the truth.
Believing they gave up on her and that they mourned her all these years kept Ally somewhat sane. Angry and hurt, yes, but still sane. Learning they never gave up on her, that they made it their life’s mission to find her and bring her home where she belonged was a complete shock to her. Add the revelation that the man who took her was the same man who killed her parents and it becomes too much for anyone to handle, let alone a woman who’s fighting to reclaim her life.
Fearing she’s going to revert to her old ways, that she’ll give up on herself and desperately want to forget—to become numb—I rack my brain trying to find a way to make it right. To ease her grief and dull her pain.
Buckling her into the passenger seat, I step around the truck and climb in beside her. Starting the car, I immediately reach for her hand as I drive with only one on the steering wheel. The tears slowly come to a stop but she doesn’t speak. I watch from the corner of my eye as she mindlessly stares out the window.
Stopped at a red light, I turn to her, willing her to look at me. Getting no response when I squeeze her hand, I take notice of all her features. Her pale skin is blotchy from crying and her eyes are slightly swollen. Her plump lips lack any color and when she tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, I realize the difference in it. It’s shorter, shinier and colored a rich brown. Despite the sadness masking her face, she’s beautiful.
Really fucking beautiful.
And when she smiles, when she puts the pain aside, she’s gorgeous.
Stunning even.
A fucking knockout.
The light changes and I regretfully tear my eyes away from her. Five minutes later, I kill the engine of the truck and stare out the window at the motel.
“We’re here,” I announce, waiting for her to acknowledge our arrival. “Do you want to go somewhere else? I’ll take you wherever you want to go?”
“You can’t take me where I want to go,” she whispers. “And if you could, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” she adds, reaching for the door handle.
Before I can argue with her and tell her she doesn’t need to escape, she’s out of the car. Quick to follow her, I climb out of the truck and jog across the parking lot to catch up to her.
“Ally, wait,” I call as she slides her key into Cobra’s room.
“Leave me alone, Deuce,” she cries as she pushes open the door.
Reaching her, I shove my foot in the doorway before she can close it in my face and force my way inside.
“Don’t do that,” I growl. “Don’t fucking shut me out because you’re ready to give up on yourself. You think I don’t know what you want? You think I didn’t catch you digging your nails into your arms while we drove here?”
“Stop fooling yourself,” she sneers, turning around to glare at me. “Stop pretending I’m more than a junkie. This is me,” she shouts, poking her thumbs against her chest. “This is who I am. I can dye my hair and change the way I dress, but at the end of the day I’m the lost girl who needs drugs more than she needs air.”
Whimpering the last sentence, her body trembles and cracks what’s left of my resolve. Yearning to heal, wishing to mend, I stare into her grief-stricken eyes. She wraps her arms around herself and before I can think about my actions, I reach for her. Grabbing her wrists, I bend my knees and make us eye level.
“That’s not who you are, darlin’,” I murmur, linking our fingers together.
Searching my own eyes,
fresh tears spill from hers as she squeezes my hand. In that moment it’s easy to forget who she is, it’s easy to forget she’s a responsibility, a commitment or a duty. In that single fucking moment, she’s just Ally.
Plagued by torment, drowning in a sea of grief, she’s my girl.
My beautiful and broken girl.
“I want to forget,” she whispers. “I need to be numb,” she adds deflated.
“You don’t need to forget and you don’t need to be numb,” I rasp as I grasp for control. Closing my eyes briefly, I try to find the right words, something that will make sense to her. Something that’ll make her realize she’s more normal than she thinks.
“There are things we’re meant to feel and grief is one of them,” I start, drawing in a breath. “We’re wired to have feelings. We’re supposed to be sad and experience pain, that’s part of life. It’s normal to be sad. It’s normal to hurt. It’s normal to feel. Let yourself feel,” I say roughly.
Her eyes darken and danger calls as her gaze briefly drops to my mouth.
The ground quakes.
The wind changes.
I feel it all and ignore it all the same.
Licking my lips, I count the freckles on her nose, silently waiting for her to give me her eyes. That alone should have knocked some sense into me because a man can get lost in those eyes and never be found. Pulling her hands from mine, our eyes lock and Jesus, fuck, I’m helpless to the kryptonite that is Ally.
Rising on her tip toes, she wraps her arms around my neck and the feral need to possess burns through me.
Fire.
Painfully aware this isn’t like before, this isn’t me nonchalantly rewriting her first kiss or recklessly kissing her in a store because she’s cute as fuck. This is bigger than that, this is the stuff you don’t forget. The shit that can’t be erased once it’s done. This is a forever kind of thing.
It’s fire; dangerous fire that’s stirring between us and as she threads her fingers through my hair all I can think about is how much I want it. How badly I want to douse myself in her flames.
“Ally,” I growl.
Her name is meant to be a warning, but who I’m warning? I don’t know because as I say it I already know it’s too late. We’re trapped in this fire we’re creating and the flames crawling up our bodies will turn us to ash.
“Prove it,” she dares, diverting her eyes to my lips. “Make me feel something I’m supposed to feel,” she pleads. Something shifts between us and she’s no longer the one fiending. Suddenly, I’m the addict and she’s the drug.
I can feel her breath against my lips.
Hot and heavy.
Desperate and wanton.
Fucking lethal.
“We’re playing with fire,” I tell her as I take her face in my hands. “Beautiful fucking fire.”
Then she strikes the match.
“Then let’s burn.”
And burn we do.
We burn so fucking bright we light up the darkness imbedded in one another’s soul.
-Twenty-eight-
ALLY
For me, sex was both something I dreaded and something I craved. I taught myself at a young age to disconnect and fade away. After I was turned over to Rush, sex became a numbing agent. Like the drugs, I began to crave it—not the act but the escape.
However, right now I wasn’t sure if I craved the escape or the act. Yes, I wanted to forget my parents were murdered, but I also didn’t want to lie on a bed and count the minutes until it was over. For once in my life, I wanted to feel.
I want to feel him.
“Deuce,” I whisper.
“Shut up,” he growls, threading his fingers into my hair. Cupping the back of my head, he stares at me for a moment before blowing out a ragged breath. “Baby steps,” he hisses. “We’re going to take it slow, yeah?” he asks as he wraps my hair around his fists.
“Slow,” I agree, blinking as I watch him carefully.
Wetting his lips, he leans in a fraction closer. His breath comes in soft pants against my lips and anticipation coils inside my belly.
“Are you sure?” he questions, lifting his thumb to trace my lower lip. “I want you to think before you answer because when we’re done here, after you’ve come long and hard, everything you think you know about sex will be a fucking memory. I’m going to make you feel things you never even dreamt of feeling. Things you didn’t know your body was capable of. I’m going to unravel you darlin’, but you’re going to be the one in control.”
Dropping his hand, he leans down and touches his lips to mine. Neither of us move and he slowly works my lower lip between his. Teasing me, he alternates between sucking and nibbling. My lips part, begging him to give me more as a moan escapes the back of my throat. Tracing his wet tongue over my lips, I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Gave me your smile…” He mutters, pulling back. “And I thought it was the best thing I ever saw,” he adds, cupping my chin. “But that moan, that fucking moan is the best thing I ever heard,” he says before his mouth is on mine again.
This time when he kisses me he doesn’t go slowly. This time he goes in for the kill, claiming my mouth as his tongue slides over mine, tasting me…devouring me. Over and over, he slowly teases me taking turns with his tongue and teeth. Nipping at my lower lip, he entices another moan from me and I realize I’ve never been kissed like this. The other kisses he gave me weren’t as intense as this one. It’s the kind of kiss you never forget, the type you play over and over in your mind. The kind of kiss that will burn your lips long after it’s over.
Breathless, he pulls back, still peppering my mouth with kisses as he walks backward toward the bed. Taking a seat at the foot of the bed he drops his hands to my hips, kneading me with his thumbs.
“What’s it going to be, Ally?” he drawls. His raspy voice sears through me and I clench my thighs together.
Telling myself it’s impossible to get off on merely his voice, I will myself to relax and meet his gaze. His eyes are dark and full of desire making me fully aware that this won’t be an escape, this won’t be like anytime before.
This will be a lesson.
Taught to me by him.
A lesson I will never forget.
If I allow myself to trust I’ll finally learn how to feel the things people crave. I’ll know what sex is meant to be like. If I give myself to him fully, Deuce will be the man who introduces me to my own body.
“Show me,” I plead softly.
Something feral flickers in his eyes as his hands move from my hips to the button on my jeans.
“Yellow,” he says as he pops the button open. Keeping his eyes on mine, he draws the zipper down. “When you want me to slow down, you say yellow,” he instructs.
Feeling light-headed and confused, I blink as he slips his large hand inside my jeans.
“Red, if you want me to stop,” he adds, stilling a hand over my pussy.
“What do I say when I want more?” I rasp, placing my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.
“You say whatever you like. You tell me what feels good, what you want more of and I’ll give it to you. You feel me, darlin’?”
“I feel you,” I whisper as his finger slips beneath my panties. Reaching up with his free hand, he runs his fingers down the side of my cheek.
“Swollen eyes and all you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t need lines.”
“Then I reckon it’s a good thing I don’t do lines,” he says as he cups my face and drags it down to his. “I don’t know which part of this face is my favorite. If it’s your mouth or these eyes that drew me in the moment I saw you. Maybe it’s the freckles I count every chance I get.”
“You count my freckles?”
“Thirty-seven,” he says, pressing his mouth to mine. Parting my lips, he slides into my mouth as his finger strokes me at an agonizingly slow pace. Wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingers toy with the ends of his hair as I kiss him
back.
My mouth pauses against his as he slides his hand out of my jeans and threads his fingers through the belt loops. Pulling back, he starts to slide the denim down my legs.
“Shoes off,” he commands.
Obeying, I kick my flats off and watch him tentatively lift one leg onto his lap. Steadying myself, he frees one leg and then the other.
“Turn around,” he says next.
Obedience used to be a way of life for me, something I did to survive. Now, driven by my own curiosity and without fear, I yield to Deuce’s every command. I suppose that’s what happens when you trust someone—when sex is consensual and not a chore.
Growling, he places his palms on my ass cheeks and jerks me closer to him as he spreads his legs.
“This fucking ass,” he grinds out, pushing the cheeky panties to the side to squeeze a handful. “Makes me hard just thinking about it,” he trails off, hooking his fingers in the waistband of my panties.
“When I dropped the toothpaste in the bathroom, you remember that?”
“Mmhmm,” I murmur as he peels my underwear off.
“I just wanted that ass perched high in front of me,” he admits. “Now turn around, darlin’, so I can see that pussy of yours.”
Kicking my underwear off, I take a deep breath and do as I’m told. Leaning back on his elbows, his gaze sweeps over me. When his eyes finally land between my legs, he licks his lips like a starved animal.
I wait for him to say something or to touch me but he just stares lazily at me. This makes me realize he has a ridiculous amount of control.
“Now what?” I ask as I nervously pull my sleeves over my hands.
“Lose the shirt, babe,” he replies, reaching between his legs. I watch in fascination as he presses the heel of his palm to the bulge in his pants. The need to touch him pulses inside of me, desperate to feel his thick cock grow against my palm, knowing it’s all for me.
“Shirt,” he reminds me.
The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition Page 85