He wanted to slide his hands down, to cup her ass cheeks, to pull up her skirt, to tear her panties to the side and fuck her with her legs circling his waist.
But they were on a boat, with her co-workers, on the middle of a dance floor.
Unfortunately, his cock didn’t care.
And Caitie didn’t help, either, by continuing to brush her body against it. Not lightly, or an occasional bump, but like she was trying to smother a fucking fire.
That fire being him.
But the blaze wasn’t going out. It was now roaring.
“Caitie...” Her name got caught in his throat. “Need to go sit the fuck down.”
She said nothing but continued to move against him, holding him even tighter and he didn’t think that was possible.
“Caitie...” He tried to wedge his fingers in between him and her arms. She was having none of that.
He shoved his nose into her hair. “Hangin’ by a thread here, baby.”
“I know.”
“Keep doin’ that and I’m gonna embarrass the both of us.”
She face-planted into his chest and giggled.
“Ain’t funny, baby. Got a load buildin’ with nowhere for it to go.” And his cock was pointing in a direction it wasn’t meant to point. Which meant he needed to adjust it.
“Is it comfortable where it’s at?”
“Fuck no.”
She quickly turned them away from most of the crowd, slipped one hand between their tightly sandwiched bodies and...
Grabbed his fucking dick.
Just like that.
On a dance floor. On a fucking boat. Amongst a shitload of people she knew. She just reached down, grabbed his hard-on and adjusted it for him.
Like she did it every fucking day.
“That’s a handful,” she whispered.
He didn’t know if he should laugh or fucking cry. “No shit.”
“Actually pretty impressive.”
“Glad you fuckin’ think so. Can you fuckin’ let go?”
Her body shook against his. “Do I have to?”
“Yeah. Remember that embarrasin’ thing I mentioned? You got about five seconds.”
Thank fuck she let go just in time.
He released a breath until the DJ began to play a fast song. They needed off that dance floor. Hell, they needed off that fucking boat.
“Do I need to walk in front of you?” she asked with a naughty glint in her eye.
“Might be good.”
She giggled again and he followed her. Only she kept walking right past their table and out the nearest exit into the night.
He kept on her heels as she hoofed it up the stairs to the top deck—which was currently deserted—giving him and his suffering dick a perfect view of that ass of hers rocking and rolling.
Which was not a good fucking idea.
Not with her in that fucking loose skirt. Not with the current state of his aching, leaking cock.
He was not fucking Caitie for the first time in some goddamn dark corner against a wall.
Fuck. He wasn’t fucking Caitie at all.
He wasn’t fucking Caitie at all.
He wasn’t.
“Caitie...”
“I just need some air. So do you.”
He needed a fuck of a lot more than air.
She stopped suddenly and he just about slammed into her. She spun, and he got distracted by her skirt kicking out around her and her blonde hair swirling about her face in the wind. Before he could pull away, she was up on her toes, grabbing his face and yanking his head down.
His mouth opened to stop her but she took it before the first syllable even escaped.
Her tongue swept deep, took control of his mouth, tasting him everywhere. That did not reduce the blood flow to his dick.
In fact, it kicked it up a notch.
He pushed her tongue out of his mouth, planning on ending the kiss. He didn’t. Instead, he shoved his tongue into her mouth, swallowed her groan, dug his fingers into her hair and yanked her head back so her mouth opened wider on a gasp.
He couldn’t get enough of her. That kiss wasn’t enough.
And never would be.
But it needed to be.
It needed to be.
Goddamn it.
He twisted his head, found his breath, then pressed his forehead to hers as they both panted.
And it had only been one kiss.
Like that day in the hidden corner of the DAMC kitchen.
The hardest thing he’d done in a long time was walk away from her that day. To tell her no, when every cell in his body screamed yes. Just like it was doing now. “Don’t do that again.”
“The kiss?”
“Makin’ me hard. Touchin’ my dick.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“Not smart. Strugglin’ here, Caitie.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Then stop makin’ it hard for me.” Both his cock and his willpower. “There’s no easy way to do this.”
Which was so damn true, it was killing him. No matter how much he wanted things to be different, they would never be.
Then her hand was there again, between them, grabbing his dick and squeezing it. “No, it won’t be easy. But doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”
“Dyin’s the easy part. It’s the rest...”
“All the rest is in Shadow Valley. We’re not there. We’re here.”
Jesus fuck. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “We’re on a fuckin’ boat, Caitie. With your boss and your co-workers.”
“I’m on a boat with you.”
Christ.
“You got on a boat for me.” She leaned into him, not helping out his situation at all and whispered again, this time very slowly, “You got on a boat for me.”
He had nothing to say to that. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t reveal how he felt about her.
And that was not smart.
“You came along on my work retreat, Magnum. Something you probably never thought you’d do in a million years, but you came anyway. You’re surrounding yourself with people you’d never choose to be around. You’re doing things you’d never do. For me.”
For fuck’s sake, everything she just said exposed things he was trying to keep hidden. “Asked for my help.”
“But I didn’t ask you to come along on this retreat. That was on you. Your choice.”
“You didn’t have a choice to come on this fuckin’ retreat, Cait. Said so yourself.”
“And I would’ve been more vigilant. I would’ve been fine.”
Again, she was digging deep within him and ripping things to the surface. “You wanted me to find out who was on that goddamn video.” That was why he was there. That was why he was on this fucking retreat.
“Yes, I did. But I didn’t ask for this.”
“Could’ve told me no.”
“Could I have?”
He went solid. “Don’t say that kind of shit. I’m not him.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman...”
He grunted. A gentleman. Right. Filling up a drain with cum while jerking off to thoughts of her was not being a fucking gentleman. Neither was the thought of flipping her around, throwing her skirt up over her head and fucking her so hard everyone downstairs would be able to hear her over the DJ.
“Way more than what I want you to be.”
“What does that fuckin’ mean?” He knew what that meant. He knew. And it made all of this even more difficult.
“You know what I want.”
A burn seared his chest. “Can’t give it to you, Caitie.”
“You can. You choose not to.”
“For a good goddamn reason.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” She pulled away from him and headed to the very front of the boat.
To the railing. Somewhere she didn’t think he’d follow her.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
But she was right. Now she knew there was a snake in the Gallo agency, she could’ve gone on the retreat alone and had been very careful. But he couldn’t let her do that.
There had been no fucking way he would’ve let her do that.
Him being there was all on him.
All because of that strong pull to protect her. That need to protect what was his. Or what should be his. To make sure she was safe.
Because what happened to her had destroyed him. Not just from seeing the video but from hearing it the second it passed her lips back at his house.
Which proved just how strong she was. She was not letting it destroy her. She was dealing with it much better than he was.
But it pissed him the fuck off that she had to deal with it at all.
He sucked in a breath, then another. And one more. Then he grew a set and went to her.
Her hands gripped the railing, her eyes were closed, and her face was in the wind. The soft lights of the steamboat emphasized how goddamn beautiful she was. But it was more than that for him.
It was her confidence. Her resilience. The way she was grounded.
How she grew up in an environment totally different from his but still was completely accepting and open to it.
It had impressed him how she slipped so easily into the DAMC life. And if she could accept her real father, his family, his club, then she could accept him, his life and his club, too.
But again, it wasn’t just her acceptance he needed. There were so many more speed bumps that would need to be dealt with.
And he wasn’t sure how to handle them.
But that wasn’t why he was on this retreat. Those speed bumps would have to wait. He had another issue to handle.
He also had a woman to claim.
And once he fucking claimed her, he wasn’t sure he’d give her back.
He stepped up to her, wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, trying not to think about the water rushing by them below. Pressing his mouth to her ear, she shivered when he growled, “Remember when I said I was hangin’ on by a thread? You just snapped that fuckin’ thread.”
Chapter Nine
Over the years he’d watched her playfully flirt with Crash and Rig, Rooster and Coop. Even some of the DAMC prospects. And they ate that shit up. But none of them, not fucking one, had been stupid enough to touch her.
For them to do that, out of respect, they would have to approach not only her father, a fellow club member, but they’d also have to get the okay from Z, the club president.
With Magnum, he’d also need to approach his own president, who’d need to meet with the DAMC president and negotiations would have to take place.
Because Cait was DAMC property.
One did not just take property from another club without permission. That was a mortal sin.
And he was about to do just that.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against her lips as she had him pressed to the outer door of their room. The second that door closed, she had shoved him back and once again took his mouth, ripping a groan from him and causing his fingers to grip her waist tightly. The intent was to push her away, instead he pulled her closer.
“Go,” she moaned as she took his mouth again.
He twisted away, because he was having a hard time keeping his head on straight. “Caitie. Got any idea what you’re doin’ to me?”
Her green eyes flashed as they met his. “I have a pretty good idea.”
No shit. His dick was hard and heavy, caught between them.
That thread that snapped? If they continued on their current path, it could never be repaired.
“If we do this, should be worried about bein’ taken out by D or Dawg. Instead, worried about where this will take you.”
“I’m not.”
No shit.
“It’s just sex, Magnum.”
If only that was true.
It wouldn’t be just sex. At least, not for him. She wasn’t a sweet butt or some random hookup. And that worried him.
Even more importantly, it wasn’t just sex on that video. It was more. That also worried him.
Yes, they both wanted it. But having sex with her was now much more complicated than the issues it would cause between the clubs.
“How do I follow that and not fuck it up, Cait? Tell me. How do I not fuck it up? Fuck you up?”
“You won’t.”
She couldn’t guarantee that. She hadn’t been with anyone else since that night. “How do I take you back from him?” His voice came out almost hoarse. “How do I take back what he took from you?”
He had no idea how she would react. Maybe on the surface she was coping fine with it. Maybe deep down, she wasn’t. Would his actions flip that switch?
He wanted nothing but good for her. And he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to give her good. He didn’t want to be the one to cause her pain or any kind of distress.
Not fucking ever.
“You don’t. He took nothing from me because I didn’t allow him to take it. I didn’t give him that power. But I’m giving myself to you. My choice is my power, Magnum.”
“Think it’s that easy.” He wished to fuck it was.
“It’s that damn easy.”
Fuck, he wanted to believe her.
Suddenly, her eyebrows pinched together, and she stepped back, her fingertips to her swollen lips. Puffy because of the kisses on the top deck of that fucking boat. The ones that almost made him lose his mind and lose his load. Also from the kiss against the door.
Her eyes and expression were troubled.
Had he somehow fucked up already?
“Is it because... you see me differently now?”
Oh fuck no, he wasn’t going to let that motherfucker fuck with her head. Not even a little bit. Not if he could help it.
The uncharacteristic insecurity in her voice made his temper flare. That was not Caitie. She was never insecure.
He rushed from the door, bent his knees, caught her in her middle and threw her over his shoulder. Her squeal filled the room. Within a few long strides, he kicked open the bedroom door and threw her on the bed, falling over top of her, but careful not to crush her with his weight.
He caged her in. He gripped her cheeks. And he took her mouth.
He claimed it. He made it his. And his alone.
That was his mouth. He would make her never doubt that or herself.
He just needed to push any of his own doubts out of his fucking head. They had nothing to do with her, but everything to do with who she was.
Who he was.
Her tongue tangling with his pushed all those doubts away for the moment.
He needed to concentrate on Caitie.
He wasn’t afraid of much. But what he was about to do with her scared the fucking shit out of him.
But he was still going to do it.
He was still going to claim her.
No, this wouldn’t just be about sex like she said.
It never was.
With a groan, he pushed up and away from her, getting to his feet. Standing at the end of the bed, his eyes not leaving her flushed face, her heaving tits, her red, swollen mouth. And her eyes...
Those fucking green eyes held his. Her confidence was back, and so was her smile.
That smile twisted something inside of him. It broke off a piece of him, a piece he was about to offer her.
He was giving her her power. Giving her her choice.
Which was him.
She rolled up and as her hands grabbed the bottom of her shirt, he barked, “Don’t fuckin’ move. Don’t get naked. Leave that to me.”
He was gone. He’d walked out, leaving her alone on the bed, wanting and needing. Leaving her blood rushing, her body humming and her pussy getting wetter by the second.
Her panties were already soaked from the dirty dancing she had done against him earlier. From touching him in public, even though she was careful so no one would see
it. Then that kiss on the top deck before the endless kisses at the bow of the boat with him pressed hard and hot against her. With her touching him as much as he’d allow.
Which wasn’t a lot but enough to get them both desperate to get off that damn boat, get back to the resort and up to their room.
And neither of them had delayed. They ignored everyone else who were chattering and making plans to hang out at the bar. They ignored everyone who suggested a night swim in the heated pool.
She wasn’t even sure she said goodnight to anyone.
And she definitely didn’t make any excuses as to why they were on a direct path to their room and God help anyone getting in their way.
This was happening.
It was.
If he backed out...
If he walked out of the room and the reality stick beat him the fuck over the head...
If he kept moving out the front door to cool off and find his common sense.
If any of that happened...
No, it couldn’t.
Please... It couldn’t.
“Magnum,” she called out, suddenly worried.
But then he was standing in the doorway, a huge dark silhouette, since the light of the living area was behind him and the bedroom’s light hadn’t been turned on.
He was massive. There was nothing small about the man. Not only physically but his presence, too.
She quickly leaned over and hit the switch for the lights above the bed.
And she lost her breath.
He had removed his shirt, his boots and his socks. He stood in black jeans that made her wonder how they fit his thick thighs. He was barefoot, bare chested, with his belt removed, the jeans unfastened, giving her a hint of how thick that dark hair that circled his navel got as it went lower.
He had something in his hand. A box.
And even across the room she could read it.
Magnum Bareskin Condoms.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said as she tracked him moving into the room, around the bed and tossing that box onto the nightstand.
“How d’you think I got my name?”
She’d never really thought about it.
“Started out as a fuckin’ joke when I was a prospect. It stuck. Decided to keep it.”
“I wondered about the stereotype,” she half-joked.
Magnum: A Dark Knights MC/Dirty Angels MC Crossover Page 12