by Paula Cox
Stunned, he watched her go, watching those beautiful thighs gripping his seat, her hands sure and strong as she steered. The shock slowly began to melt, as he realized that the person he was supposed to protect had suddenly stolen his only method of transportation, leaving him alone.
Chapter 8
Natasha couldn’t help but feel a delicious thrill as she got out of the more residential streets and hit the highway. It felt like it had been forever since she had ridden her own bike, although her father had always made sure that she knew how to ride while she was growing up. At first it had been terrifying for her, everything seemed to be going too fast; everything seemed to be too exposed. Now, for the first time, she could actually really feel the freedom of the road.
Dark clouds began to gather overhead, and she watched them warily through her visor. It didn’t matter, however, she just had to keep going, even if it meant driving away from Griffin. More likely than not, he would be relieved. She thought of the look on his face as he realized his bike was gone, and she laughed a little to herself in spite of the seriousness of the situation.
What am I doing? she thought. I’m stealing someone’s property now?
She pushed those scary thoughts to the back of her mind while she rode, focusing hard on the road and what she was going to do next. All she hoped was that she could get somewhere safe before it rained, and if it did rain, that it wouldn’t be too bad.
Against her better judgment, she momentarily wondered what Griffin would do, now that he didn’t have to watch her. He must be angry about losing his bike, but what could he possibly do now?
***
Griffin wasn’t picky when it came to cars, especially if it was a car that he was going to have to steal, so the second he saw Natasha drive away on his motorcycle, he started checking out the parking lot. There were a few cars here and there; the hotel was obviously not very busy, which worked well for Griffin because that meant that less people might be potentially watching him. It was the kind of town that left car doors unlocked, and potentially a key in the ignition, but since the hotel was so near the highway, he couldn’t guarantee that.
Deciding on a relatively worn looking pickup truck since it would be the easiest to hotwire, he discovered that the car was, indeed, locked. Gritting his teeth once again in annoyance, he pulled out his lock pick and got to work. Within seconds the flimsy lock was broken and Griffin launched himself into the front seat, moving towards the ignition.
This part was a little tricky, but he had never let himself get stuck before and he was damned if he was going to start now. After what seemed like hours tinkering with the wires—and yet in reality it was only about thirty seconds—the car started. Without putting a seatbelt on or adjusting the mirrors, Griffin jammed his foot against the gas pedal and drove out of the parking lot, tires screeching and kicking up gravel as he went. He didn’t think about the person he was stealing the car from, if anything he would be more than happy to give the piece of junk back once he got his own bike back.
God, she was impressive though, he thought. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. He would have never thought for a million years that a girl like Natasha would climb out a bathroom window and steal his motorcycle. The thought of how clever she had been aroused him all over again, and yet the anger still simmered beneath the surface.
Once he hit the highway, it wasn’t hard to find her. What long blond hair wasn’t trapped in the helmet, flew in the wind. She rode the bike perfectly, every slight turn seemed to be effortless, her speed perfectly maintained, as he drove behind her for a few seconds he couldn’t help but admire it.
However, this couldn’t go on for very much longer, and he drove up next to her, levelling out with her so that she could see his angry face staring at her while she drove. He could see her muscles tense up upon realizing that someone else was there, her head jerked to see who it was an immediately she relaxed…but only for a moment.
Knowing that she was a far better driver than he would have ever guess, he speed up and turned the wheel, cutting her off and forcing her to stop. She did without wiping out, bringing the bike to a stop with the grace of a dancer.
Griffin open the door, feeling for all the world like a disappointed parent. Natasha sighed and took off her helmet, shaking her long hair out and looking a mixture of disappointed and relieved, her eyes dropped to the truck.
“Did you steal that?” she asked.
“You’re one to judge about stealing,” he shot back.
“It’s not stealing if the keys are in the ignition,” she told him sweetly.
Griffin bit back another retort and got out of the car, taking the handlebars of the bike away from her, but letting her keep the helmet. There wasn’t enough time to stand there bickering, not with the sky looking like it did.
Natasha watched Griffin as he looked over the motorcycle, probably making sure it hadn’t sustained any damage during her ride, or when it had slipped out of her hands as she was trying to get away in the first place. That hadn’t been her fault, of course; the weight of the bike had caught her by surprise.
“You did some great riding out there, seriously,” he said, keeping his voice low and even. “But if you ever steal my bike again, you’re going to be sorry.”
Natasha levelled her eyes at him, a touch of amusement curling her lips.
“Oh, and how would you do that?” she asked, her voice low and husky.
Griffin could think of a few things, throwing her over his knee and spanking her until she screamed was at the top of the list, but he watched her slender wrists as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and had a better idea.
“I’d tie you up,” he said casually.
She frowned, and he smiled.
“Get on the bike,” he said. Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him.
“With you? Why? Can’t you see that I’m trying to escape?”
He gave a wry smile. “Yeah, I see that. Look how well you did. Now get on the bike!”
She took a step back from him, the annoyance growing in her face again, her hands balling into those fists once more. He took a step towards her, daring her to do something, before letting his mouth fall into a lazy, tempting smile.
“Don’t make me tie you up in there so you won’t run.”
For a moment her lips parted, moist and just begging to be kissed, as a small amount of red touched her cheeks in a blush. Refusing to allow him to control her this way, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and put her helmet back on. As she walked over to the bike, she brushed by him, close enough that he could smell her perfume. Natasha didn’t look happy, but Griffin didn’t care. The idea of her all tied up and stretched over his motorcycle was enough to make him feel just fine.
Revving the bike, he moved on, leaving the pickup truck alone on the side of the highway, ready to be found by its owner.
Chapter 9
Natasha would never admit it to Griffin, but the idea of him tying her up had turned her on to the point where she wasn’t sure if she was able to speak. She tried to maintain the image of the annoyed girl who had been caught trying to make an escape, but her mind kept drifting back to the idea of Griffin tying her up. Right now, he was behind her, as he usually was, and she didn’t want to give anything away—even though all she wanted to do was rub up against him and get him as hot and bothered as she was. It was terribly distracting and a terrible tell, given the fact that the thought of it flustered her so much that her face grew hot with want.
As they drove, she let her mind drift, thinking about the slow, deliberate movement of Griffin removing his belt. She could imagine the self-satisfied smile that would grow on his face as he took both of her wrists in one hand and looped the belt around them. Maybe he could use the belt as a leash, pulling her around and forcing her over the seat of his motorcycle, naked and exposed and utterly vulnerable to whatever he wanted.
Feeling his heat behind her, she closed her eyes and
tried to imagine herself his captive, her hands bound, as he gently unbuttoned her jeans. She whimpered thinking that there was nothing she could do, as he would slowly move her jeans down, leaving her only in panties, and then they would go as well. His fingers would play and tease the outside of her until she could do nothing but beg for release, but he wouldn’t give it to her. She could already feel herself getting wet just thinking about it, but she didn’t care.
The vibration of the motorcycle between her legs made matters even worse, and for one terrible and wonderful moment, she wondered if she could climax just from riding it. Her thought once again drifted to Griffin’s attention, him restraining her as she bucked her hips and pleaded for mercy. With Griffin, there would be no mercy; there would only be danger.
Once he was done driving her to insanity by tempting and teasing her, he could push her down on the bike, holding the end of the belt tight in his hands and keeping her wrists so still. She, unable to escape, would take every single long and delicious inch of him. She would love every minute of it because in that moment she would be completely his. Finally, she would be able to see him lose the control he obviously clung to, the control he probably used around other women, and only she would be the one to undo him.
She made a little noise in the back of her throat as they drove, trying not to express her obvious arousal. Could he tell? She tried to move a little against him to see if he was interested, there was no way he wasn’t, not with the way he looked at her, but he seemed to be all hard and tense muscles.
Her mind wandered again, to the look on his face as he drove deeper and deeper inside of her, of the belt tightened around her hands. She thought about the sound he must make when he let it all go and wished—above all things—that she would be able to hear that sometime. It seemed terrifyingly inevitable, her and Griffin, and yet, something about going into that world gave her a slight pause.
For one terrifying and wonderful heartbeat, Griffin moved his arm to curl around her waist, and he brushed his lips against her shoulder. She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t do much of anything. For those terrible and wonderful few seconds, the only thing she could think of and the only thing she wanted to feel was his lips anywhere near her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, once again finding a fair bit of humor in the situation.
“Yes,” she whispered, but her whisper gave away everything. She wasn’t okay. She needed him at that moment. In spite of the craziness of the world, in spite of the fact that her life had been turned upside down from the moment she had heard that her father was dead, the only thing she wanted was to forget, and Griffin seemed to be perfect for forgetting.
Chapter 10
Griffin wasn’t sure that he appreciated the gathering clouds, and his concern grew with the first raindrops that splattered onto them as they drove. He could feel Natasha move against him as they rode, a wonderful distraction that he was trying to focus on instead of the weather. If the rain kept up like this, he was fairly sure that he would be able to keep driving through it, but if it got much worse they were going to make to make some sort of contingency plan.
Driving away from Brazos seemed to be the best course of action for them now, with everything as dangerous as it was. Griffin couldn’t risk Natasha attempting to run again, and even if she did, he could at least put her in a place where they couldn’t find her. Going back to Austin wasn’t an option, because if they knew enough to want her dead, they at least knew where she was going to college.
Griffin wracked his brain to try to figure out where to go. They couldn’t go back to his place; apart from being the vice president of the Disciples, it also wasn’t hard to ask any number of girls that spent time at The Bootheel to figure out where he lived. He could imagine someone sidling up to any number of the tall biker girls that he had spent time with in the past in order to ask a simple question, and for the first time in a long time, he began to wonder if maybe he had been an idiot about that whole thing.
Of course, the presence of Natasha also made him wonder. He had never been so affected by a woman before, and he had been around the block enough times to think he had been immune. What was it about her? He had slept with plenty of girls who could ride, but could any of them ride with such confidence and grace as she had? He had been with plenty of hot blonde girls, and yet, there was something about the way her amber eyes flashed when she looked at him, something about the way that she stood up to him that made him want to pull her down and possess her right then then there.
She made a little noise from the space in front of him, and part of him thought that maybe it was out of some sort of pleasure or wanting, but as the rain came down harder, he was pretty sure she was just commenting about the weather. For some reason, he was disappointed.
Relax, Griffin, he thought. You haven’t even slept with her yet.
However, it was the “yet” that he kept mulling over, the “yet” that kept distracting him when he should obviously be focusing more on the crisis that they were facing instead of the look on her face when she climaxed. A jolt of desire went through him as he thought about it, and he made a mental note to find out soon… multiple times.
The rain grew harder, soaking both of them, although Natasha was lucky enough to be wearing a helmet. The water dripped down his face into his eyes, but part of him still thought that they could continue on. He thought as much anyway, until the tell-tale clank of hail on the top of Natasha’s helmet gave him pause. He wouldn’t be able to drive in hail, there was no way, but they were so far from any sort of hotel, motel, or house that he wondered where they would take shelter.
Visibility grew worse, but Griffin refused to show anything close to worry. A gray shape began to show on the horizon. It was an overpass, and Griffin knew what he had to do.
Natasha mumbled something as he began to slow down upon approach. The overpass loomed gray above their heads, and Griffin did a quick sweep of the area to see if anyone could possibly be hiding underneath it: homeless or not. They were blessedly alone, and he allowed himself a few seconds of peace as he climbed off of the bike and watched her dismount. They were both soaked, and the hail battered the landscape around them as they stood together and watched it fall. The hail was roughly the size of a golf ball, and the two of them stared in amazement as it fell, bouncing this way and that.
“Thank god we’re not riding in it anymore,” Natasha said. He turned to look at her, her face was flushed red, her lips parted. He wanted to lean in and taste her words.
“We’re going to have to ride it out here,” he replied. “For as long as it takes.”
She smirked a little bit. “Do you think you can handle spending so much time alone with me?”
“At least I know you’re not going to run again.”
Another moment erupted between them, full of that tension that Griffin wished would just break already. Her wet shirt clung to her curves in a delicious way; he couldn’t help but stare at the wet cloth clinging to her breasts, her nipples hard from the cold of the weather, or was it from something else? She was breathing a little heavily, her golden hair curled into wet tendrils around her face. Even completely drenched she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Should we sit?” Griffin asked, looking around the area for any place that might work. She looked around as well as he shrugged off his jacket and laid it down. Giving a weak gesture that meant “sit”, they still stood there, watching each other, waiting for the other to break.
Her eyes burned like fire, torturing him, and finally the only thing that sprang to Griffin’s mind was a single phrase. It was one he had used many times in the past with varying meanings, but this one blew them all away. “Fuck it,” he said, and he pulled her towards him.
Chapter 11
The kiss was electric, both expected and unexpected. Natasha pressed her lips against his hard, feeling the unyielding hardness of him. His hands reached up to cup her cheek as though holding them there, his tongue coaxing itself between h
er lips. She threw herself into it with a terrific sort of abandonment. Yes, this was exactly what needed to happen.
They separated for a moment, Griffin trying to catch his breath, Natasha touching her lips as though surprised to see that they were still there. There, they were standing, soaked to the bone and in incredible danger from a rival club that clearly wanted her dead, but the only thing that Natasha could think about was pressing her lips against Griffin’s one more time. Instead, she kept her distance, walking back and forth as though trying to figure out why she wasn’t nervous at all.
“Come back here,” Griffin told her, his voice thick with want.
“What are we doing?” she crossed her arms over her wet t-shirt, covering up the stiff peaks of her nipples.