Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)

by Jen McLaughlin

  “Why not? Do you snore?”

  He poured the wine, his face dead serious for once. His skin took on a little bit of a green hue, as if his mere thoughts literally sickened him. “No fucking clue.”

  “Then why—?” I cocked my head to get a better look at his eyes. “Wait. Have you never slept with anyone before?”

  He didn’t look at me, and, judging from his silence, he didn’t intend to answer. Instead, he handed my glass over and picked up his own drink. Then he stared me down. He did that a lot. Spinning the amber liquid in his tumbler into a little whirlpool, he leaned back. “Doesn’t a cellmate count?”

  I choked on my wine. Once I could breathe again, I gasped in air. “Y-you were in jail?”

  “Why are you surprised?” he asked dryly, stopping the whirlpool. “Look at my lifestyle. Of course I was in jail. Just got out, actually. Still want me in your bed?”

  For once in my life, I was speechless.

  I mean, I knew what he did for a living, and I knew he didn’t live on the right side of the law. But still . . . jail? I tried to picture him in one of those prison jumpsuits instead of jeans and a blue shirt, and failed. “Like I said, it’s just a platonic sharing of the same bed. I promise not to kick you in the middle of the night. Or slit your throat.”

  His grip tightened ever so slightly on the glass, and he shook his head once. “It’s not smart to be around people when you’re at your weakest. I don’t open myself up to that shit. That’s a death wish in my world, sweetheart.”

  “Yeah, well, not in mine.” I rested a hand on his hard biceps. “It’ll be fine. I’ll keep to my side of the bed, and you can keep to yours. We can even put pillows between us, if you want.”

  “I don’t want anything between us,” he said, a hint of a smirk coming into play. “But you’re not ready for that yet.”

  Oh, I would beg to differ. My body was perfectly ready for that. I just wasn’t going to give it what it wanted. It would be too risky. Crazy. Insane.

  And oh so stupid.

  “I’m not interested in that at all, and time won’t change my mind.” I leaned close and trailed my fingers over his jawline, much like he had done to my cheek earlier. His eyes narrowed, and I had the distinct impression that he was like a tiger, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation on my part. “Like I said a million times: Not. My. Type.”

  He caught my wrist, his grip firm but gentle. “Give me one minute of your time, and I can show you just how not your type I am, sweetheart.”

  When he said that with his Boston accent, the round sound catching on that ar syllable, it made my heart skip a beat or three. I tossed back the rest of my wine before I smiled up at him, batting my lashes. “Oh, honey, you’d need to do a lot more than that to impress a girl like me.”

  “Oh, honey, I highly doubt that. Ask me to do it. Ask me to touch you.” He stepped closer, setting down his glass and taking mine out of my hand, too. “You won’t regret it.”

  “Nope.” I shivered and pressed my legs together to try to assuage the ache between them. It didn’t help. “Not happening.”

  “Squeezing those hot little thighs together won’t help you, sweetheart. Only I can make you feel better. Only I can take that ache away . . . and all you have to do is ask.” With his voice lowered, he dropped his head down so his mouth was pressed to my ear. “Ask me, darlin’. I dare you.”

  Damn it, why had I told him I never backed down from a dare? Even now, I wanted to do it. Only because he’d dared me to, of course. Not because I wanted him—oh hell. Who was I kidding? I wanted him to. And that was why this whole thing was so scary. I knew he’d bring me nothing but trouble, and yet I still wanted him with every single breath I took. I pressed a hand to his chest. “I—oh my God.”

  He nibbled on my ear, his hand dipping between my legs to brush against my core before pulling away teasingly. “No more till you say it, Heidi. Say the word I need to hear. Say yes.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say no. To protect what little bit of strength I had to keep him at arm’s length. To reject him. But after that half-assed kiss he’d given me in the bar, followed by the kiss he’d just barely tolerated later on, and now that soft caress between my thighs . . .

  A part of me wanted to feel what a real kiss from him would be like. And I also wanted to know what it would feel like to be wanted by a man like Lucas, even if only for a minute. Even if only on a dare.

  He cupped my hip, stepping even closer. “Go on. You know you want to. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “I don’t want you.”

  “I know,” he said, lowering his mouth to my earlobe. He bit down on it, his hand creeping over my butt at the same time. “You said that already . . . repeatedly.”

  “I don’t—” When his fingers brushed my core, I broke off. Everything inside of me tightened and screamed out with need. Need for him. “Screw it. You get one minute, and one minute only. After that, we’re—” Before I’d even finished my sentence, his mouth was on mine, and words were no longer possible.

  CHAPTER 9

  LUCAS

  The instant she gave me the green light, I was on her. I wasn’t gonna waste a single second of the minute I’d been given to blow her socks off. While I had no intention of fucking her tonight, she needed to stop fooling herself into thinking she didn’t want this. Didn’t want me.

  And after this, she wouldn’t be able to.

  My tongue swept into her mouth, and she moaned, gripping my shoulders as if she was afraid she might fall. She should have known better. I wouldn’t let her hit the floor. She tasted like cotton candy and wine, and it was an intoxicating combination. If I was a different type of man, I could easily become addicted to her taste.

  Luckily for both of us, I wasn’t.

  Backing her against the wall, I let my hands roam over every square inch of her, like I’d wanted to do earlier in her bar when she’d kissed me. It had taken every ounce of my control to keep myself in check that time, and I didn’t have any of it left. But this time, I didn’t need any of that control. This time . . .

  She was mine.

  Growling low in my throat, I slid my hand over her flat stomach, going lower and lower until I cupped her wet pussy. She moaned into my mouth, the sound desperate, and needy, and hot as hell. Just like her. Her hips rolled against my hand urgently, trying to find the release that she instinctively knew I could easily give her, and I pulled back.

  She started to turn her head, likely to yell at me for stopping, but when I undid the button of her shorts and slid my hand inside, she stopped.

  And she yanked me even closer.

  Pulling me closer like that, her nails digging into my shoulders as if she didn’t want to let go, it did weird things to me. It was like the feeling you get after coming inside from a long day out in the snow and standing in front of a fireplace. You hold your hands out to the fire, and eventually . . . you thaw out.

  Slowly, the pain, numbness, and cold you felt dissipates until you’re filled with glowing warmth, spreading to the tips of your fingers. That’s how she made me feel.

  Whatever the fuck that meant.

  Knowing my time was running out, I thrust my hand inside her panties, grunting when I felt her heat. And softness. She was shaved with a small landing strip, and was so wet it killed me that I wasn’t going to bury my cock inside her tonight.

  But a challenge won easily wasn’t much of a challenge at all.

  I jammed my leg in between hers and spread her thighs, giving me better access to what I wanted. As soon as she gasped, I thrust my tongue inside her mouth while I inserted a finger inside of her. Her tight walls clamped down on my finger, and when I rubbed my thumb over her swollen clit, curses exploded from her lips.

  Breaking the kiss off, I lowered my mouth to the gentle curve of her throat, biting down just enough to hurt so good. “You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart. Scream for me. I need to hear you scream . . .”

  “Oh my Go
d. Lucas.”

  After withdrawing my finger, I thrust two fingers inside of her and kissed her again, my lips hard and urgent over hers. Her entire body surged with need and then she cried out into my mouth. I moved my fingers inside her, pressing my thumb even tighter against her. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

  Her nails scraped over my chest, digging in through the thin cotton of the T-shirt I’d thrown on before meeting up with her tonight, and then her muscles seized up. “Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” Her pussy tightened on my fingers, and then she sagged against the wall, her breaths coming hard and fast.

  I dropped my forehead on hers, my own breathing less than steady. I’d started this whole thing to prove a point. And I’d wanted to see what she felt like in my arms, what it was like when she came apart. Turned out? She felt pretty fucking amazing.

  I wanted more, but my time was up. I’d asked for a minute, and she’d given it to me. The challenge was over, and I’d won. Forcing myself to let her go, I stepped back, slipping a grin into place. It wouldn’t do to let her know that I’d been as affected—if not more so—as she had been by that one minute in heaven.

  More affected than I wanted to admit. Or ever would.

  “Now, that was hot, darlin’.”

  Her cheeks turned bright red. “You . . . how . . .?”

  “You want to know how?” I cocked a brow. “Okay, I can walk you through it, if that’s what gets you off.”

  If anything, her cheeks got even redder. It was adorable. No one should be so adorable with their shorts undone and their lips swollen from my kisses. “Lucas.”

  “Well, first, I kissed you. And then I opened your shorts and thrust my fingers inside of your hot little p—”

  Lurching forward, she slammed a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, stop it.”

  “What? I was only—” Realizing my words came out more like Whe? I wav oooney, I flicked my tongue over her palm, and she snatched her hand back as if I’d bitten her. I almost had. That had been next on my list. “I was only trying to help. You did ask me how I—”

  She swiped her hand across her tee and then glanced down with wide eyes. Frantically, she buttoned up her shorts before glaring at me. “I don’t need you to explain my orgasm to me, thank you very much.”

  I grabbed the whiskey and poured myself a glass. Before I could ask her if she wanted more wine, she took my glass and chugged back its contents. I was impressed. That shit was strong enough to put hair on a man’s chest.

  “Please. Help yourself,” I murmured dryly.

  She ran the back of her palm across her mouth and watched me, those bright blue eyes of hers sparkling with desire and irritation and . . . life. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  I laughed. “Obviously.”

  “So, uh.” Her gaze dipped down to my cock, and I swear she did more than just look. If I hadn’t been watching her so closely, I’d swear she touched me. “What now?”

  I poured myself another glass. Judging from the raging erection she’d given me, I’d need it. And more. Maybe a whole bottle. I dumped some more whiskey into her wineglass and handed it to her. She took it but didn’t drink. “What do you mean?”

  “You made me . . . you know. Finish.” She licked her lips, and her gaze dipped down again. I followed her bad example and chugged back my whiskey, my heart pounding in my ears. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Don’t you need . . .?” She bit down on her swollen lower lip. It was sexy as hell. Damn her. “. . . to finish, too?”

  “Is that an offer?” I asked, turning and facing her completely. I leaned against the counter and gripped the granite edges so tightly it hurt. “Because I only asked for a minute, and that minute is up.”

  “No.” She straightened, her normal self-assurance slipping back into place. I’d thrown her off for a bit, but she was back now. The sparkle had returned to her eyes and it was like the events of the last day had never happened. I liked that about her. She kept her cool under fire and bounced back quickly. “But I can give you a few minutes of privacy if you need to take care of things.”

  I choked on a moan. When I managed to swallow it down, I chuckled. It came out raspy. “Wow. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” Her mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. “Speaking of privacy, you won’t really have any. I’m off for the next two days. So I’ll be here all day, every day. Is that okay?”

  No. I needed to distance myself from her. After that short time I’d spent making her cry out in pleasure, I knew one thing. I couldn’t let her get inside my head.

  “Of course. This is your safe house for now.” I swallowed back the remainder of my drink and slid the glass across the counter. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Anything at all.

  She nodded once. “Okay.”

  An awkward silence fell, and I knew why. I’d dismissed her, and she didn’t know what to make of that. One minute, I’d been all over her, making her come. The next, I was acting as if she was a complete stranger. It’s what I did.

  And that wasn’t about to change.

  “Look, I—,” she started.

  At the same time, I grabbed a shop rag off the counter. “I’ve got something—”

  We both stopped talking.

  “Go on,” she said, giving me a smile. It looked forced. “You first.”

  “I was just going to say that I have some work to do downstairs.” I rubbed the back of my neck and glanced at the clock. It was after three a.m., and I was exhausted as hell, but I knew I wouldn’t be getting any sleep until she was tucked away in my bedroom, safe and sound. “I have a Mustang down there that needs to be finished by nine.”

  “Oh.” She wrapped her arms around herself, her untouched whiskey hanging from her fingers. “I didn’t know you actually worked on the cars, considering . . . you know. Your real job.”

  “I don’t have to. I like to. And no one knows I do it.” I dropped my arm to my side. It was true; no one else knew. Just one of the guys who worked for me, and he kept his mouth shut. Unlike me. Why had I told her that about myself? She didn’t give a damn what I did for a hobby. No one did. “Anyway, go to bed. I’ll be down there till it’s done.”

  She watched me, those blue eyes of hers seeing too much. Her blond hair rested in front of her eyes, and she flicked it out of the way with a toss of her head. One strand stuck to her lips, and I almost moved it for her. But I forced myself to stop midreach.

  “What about sharing the bed? Will you do that?”

  Panic rose, choking off the words I tried to get out. I couldn’t open myself up to attack like that. Not even for her. “Not happening,” I said, my voice harder than before. She was asking me to let her closer than I’d ever let anyone before. To let my guard down and have her by my side when I was at my most vulnerable. It wasn’t going to happen. I gave her a grin, knowing I was showing just how badly I didn’t want to let her in. “Just sleep in my bed and stop worrying about me. I’m fine on the couch. It’s a hell of a lot more comfortable than the bunks in lockup.”

  “But—”

  I headed for the door, cutting her off midargument. “Be ready to go out late tomorrow afternoon. We need to sell this relationship.”

  “What? Where are we going?”

  I scanned my brain for date ideas. Damned if I knew of any good spots to hit. I’d been out of the game for longer than I could remember. A couple of years in lockup did that to a man. “Ball game.” I winked at her. “Wear something nice for me.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll show you something nice, but then you can shove it up your—”

  “Gotta go. That car isn’t gonna fix itself.” I headed for the door, whistling as I went. I broke off to add, “I’ll lock the door behind me. Don’t leave this apartment. Got it?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s more like it,” I said, grinning. “Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

  I closed the doo
r, putting a very real barrier between us. As I walked down the stairs, I kept up my cheery whistling tune. Once I was in my shop, in front of the car that needed a new radiator, I dropped the act. This was the one place I could be myself. The one place I didn’t need to pretend for the rest of the world.

  Working on cars cleared my head.

  Saving Heidi was a nice distraction, but it was a distraction I didn’t need right now. I needed to focus on bigger issues. My little brother was trying to kill me, and I needed to decide exactly what to do about that. Of course, first I needed to verify Chris’s intel. Then, and only then, I needed to create a plan. I no longer had an easy escape. I had cash, sure, but it was enough for only one. Not two.

  And I wasn’t about to leave Heidi to the mess I’d pulled her into.

  Rolling under the Mustang, I sighed. Whether I liked it or not, I had to believe that Chris was right. He’d been right about the promotion part, anyway. When I’d gone to see Tate this morning, he’d hinted at giving me the position Chris had mentioned, and he’d invited me to some big dinner as a guest of honor at the end of the week. That meant I had a week, at most, before Scotty took steps to get me out of the way.

  The stakes were higher than ever. I had to stay alive, keep Heidi safe, and attempt to avoid killing my brother, all while conducting business as normal. It had been twenty-four hours since I’d learned of Scotty’s plan, and I’d made absolutely no progress on a solution. I didn’t want to kill him. I wasn’t going to let him kill me. And I couldn’t talk sense into him without escalating this to a level I wasn’t sure I wanted to visit just yet. Scotty had always had a hell of a temper, just like me. But unlike me, he didn’t know how to control it.

  If I made him snap, there would be no going back. No stopping him . . .

  Or me.