Wrapped Around Him

by Debra Kayn

  Gunner gathered Christina to his side and walked her past Cam. Her mascara blackened her eyes, but she looked physically okay. She stared straight ahead, not looking at Cam or the other men, hurrying to keep up with Gunner. The fact that she wasn't hurt, besides scared shitless didn't matter to Cam. He had a message to deliver. Anyone who touched his woman would end up six feet under. Anyone who tried to harm his club would meet the same fate.

  With Christina far enough away, he dragged the man around until his back was to the road, and sliced his throat. Cam held on until the body wilted lifeless and tossed him to the ground. In two steps, he reached Seven's side, still out cold. He sliced the artery on Seven's neck. It'd take him ten minutes to bleed out and if he woke and managed to sit up, his death would visit him sooner.

  He wiped the blood off his knife in the grass and stood, stretching his leg, and slowly walked back up to the road. He had to get rid of two bodies and a car before someone from the sheriff's office decided to take a leisurely ride out of town.

  Damn Reds. The last thing he needed was trouble breathing down his neck. He stopped and shoved the knife into his boot, and continued walking the slanted ground back up to the road. He'd tried to protect Christina from seeing what goes down at the club, unless he was the one ordering the activity. She had to keep believing he was in control. The surprise visit from Reds, involving his woman, put him in the position to reteach Christina that bad shit happened in his world. That wasn't going to change and he'd keep the shit away from her.

  Gunner met him at the truck. "Looks like they shot out one of the truck tires, and that's how they caught her."

  "Call the club officers. I want Willy and Half-rack to go down the old river road and cause enough noise to pull the sheriff and his deputies out of town. You and Stache need to take the two bodies and the vehicle and deliver them to Missoula. Drop them at the edge of town and get the hell back here. I'll send Johnson and Jeremy for the truck and they can change the tire. You and Stache can ride double back to Federal. I need to get Christina home." Cam looked past Gunner at Christina in the truck. "Jesus, they messed with her head..."

  Gunner glanced over his shoulder at Christina. "Is she going to be able to ride with you on the bike?"

  Zoned out, Christina stared down the road. Everything about her slowed down in the shock of what happened. Her eyes blinked only when dry, her breath came shallow, and her skin was whiter than his ass.

  "Yeah. I'll work with her." He gritted his teeth. "Get ahold of the others and get this fucking mess cleaned up before we cause any more attention."

  He walked around the truck and approached the open driver's door. Without saying a word, he lifted Christina out of the truck and walked her to his bike. He didn't give her a choice on whether or not to come with him. She needed to get back to the house, and then he'd let her fall apart. Then he'd piece her back together again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A rough tug, followed by a chill, and the blanket wrapped around Christina disappeared. She reached out blindly for the cover and came up empty. Her body trembled, no longer cocooned in the security of the warmth she'd created.

  Cam lay down in bed, and after a couple tosses, covered them both. "You're not shutting me out."

  She rolled to her side with her back toward him. After what she heard and witnessed earlier, she wanted no part of him and his lifestyle.

  A strong arm circled her waist and dragged her toward his solid wall of body. She melted against him, because he was naturally hotter than she could make any blanket. That didn't mean she wanted to talk to him or acknowledge what happened.

  Cam's body stretched and stiffened. "What the hell?"

  His warmth left her and the bedside lamp turned on. She glanced over her shoulder and found him holding the pistol she'd hid under her pillow. Ever since Cam gave her the weapon, she'd kept it in her purse during the day and before Cam came into the room every night, she shoved it under her pillow in case he tried anything with her.

  The bed shifted, the light went out, and Cam pulled her back against his body. "The pistol's on the nightstand now. I'm between you and the door. There is nothing that is going to get to you through me."

  She stared into the darkness. It wasn't other people who scared her. She kept it near her, so she'd have a way of stopping Cam from killing her or having sex with her. Though after today, she also understood she needed a weapon to protect herself from Cam's enemies.

  "Two men were going to kill me today after I got a flat tire," she muttered. "Excuse me if I want to protect myself."

  Cam exhaled loudly. "Those two men are only two of many. They shot your tire, which you probably didn't hear over the tire popping. The two men came after you to get to me. Where was the pistol when it happened?"

  She swallowed the extra fear he delivered with that information. "In my purse."

  "When you are by yourself in the truck, you put the pistol on the seat beside you." His hand sprawled against her stomach. "When you're in town, you can carry it in your purse. When you're home, you can set it anywhere you're comfortable with to have it close by. When we're in my bed, you do not put that pistol anywhere near you."

  "I need it," she whispered.

  "All you need is me." He rolled her onto her back. "Today shouldn't have happened, and that's on my back."

  His claim of being responsible for the danger today came out of nowhere and surprised her. She turned her head, trying to see him in the dark.

  "What did those men want with me?" she asked.

  The whole time she was kneeling on the ground, she'd expected the two rough men to shoot her in the back of the head. No one would find her or know what happened. Knowing she'd never be able to explain to Cam how much he meant to her, even though she hated his guts, weighed heavy on her mind. He was the only person she had in her life.

  The need to tell him thank you for making her feel special and safe when he kept writing back to her from prison seemed imprudent now that she was alive and he held her hostage in his bed. How could she think about thanking him when it was his fault she'd found herself in danger?

  "They wanted me dead, and they used you to bring me to them," he said.

  "Why would they want to kill you?"

  "Business." He propped his elbow on the mattress and hovered over her. "I can take care of myself, but you need to listen when I give you instructions. You trust no one. The only Moroad members you can trust are Gunner and Merk. When I'm away, you stay home. If you need to go to town or whatever, take Jeremy with you."

  "He's just a kid, Cam," she whispers. "I'd never put him in danger."

  "Then you stay home. The only time I should be gone for eighteen hours straight is when I go to the state pen and even then, I'll travel at night and be home by dinnertime...like today. The rest of the time, I'm only gone a few hours during the night," he said.

  She squirmed, aware of Cam's hand rubbing circled motions on her stomach. "This...all this scares me. I hate it."

  He kissed her forehead. "I won't let anything happen to you."

  "That's not enough," she said.

  "It'll be enough."

  His breath tickled her skin. She closed her eyes. The onslaught of pleasure at his touch went against her better judgment. She'd gone through the worst thing in her life to having Cam force her into a lifestyle that could damage her to the point of losing herself. Every day, she risked her happiness.

  "I don't understand any of this," she said. "I hate it, and yet I...care about you."

  "You care?" His gaze intensified and he froze.

  He stole her breath. She airily replied, "I don't know why I do, but I do."

  He stared down at her. His hand on her stomach relaxed first. Then his lips parted. Last, his brows rose back into position and his face softened. All of this happened within seconds and left her dizzy. She'd never seen such a change come over him or affect her so powerfully.

  "Nobody cares about me," he said, his voice equally soft, tak
ing her by surprise.

  Those words meant nothing to her, because he hid so much of his past, but she suspected they meant a lot to him.

  Her insides quivered and she wanted to give him something he lacked and everyone needed. He gave her so much, back when they were writing and now, even though the things he handed her were at the cost of others. She deserved more. He deserved more.

  She thought she was getting to understand what was happening between them the last several days and tonight set her back. She only knew being with him gave her comfort in a way she never imagined.

  "Kiss me," she whispered, throwing caution to the wind.

  Cam's hand once again stilled on her body. The longer he took to move toward her, the bigger her fear of rejection became. Tears pricked her eyes. Maybe she was wrong.

  "It's okay. I understand." Her heart squeezed, leaving her wanting to hide from his judgment.

  He rolled away from her and turned the bedside light on again. She moved to turn from him, but he brought her back and pulled her hand that covered her face down.

  "What do you think you understand?" His voice, while normally short on patience and rough, went deeper and more scary dangerous. "You are not okay with whatever is going on in your head."

  "I am." She swallowed the hard knot in her throat. No matter how hard she tried, her worries choked her. "I get why you wouldn't want to kiss me. I'm not like the Moroad women, and I haven't spent time with a man since I was eighteen years old. I'm not—"

  "Bull shit." He held her painfully. "I don't give a shit how many boys you were with or when the last time you had someone fuck you. I want to kiss you and more, but you asking me to kiss you isn't the same as asking some dick in a bar to kiss you. I won't be able to stop. I'm not going to stop. I've wanted you since your sixth letter to me, and I won't stop until my cock is inside you. Once I'm inside you, I'm not going to stop because you've changed your mind."

  She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them. "I don't even like sex. It's not going to be good for you."

  Cam's eyes hardened. "What I plan on doing with you, you'll enjoy or...hang on."

  He rolled back over to the edge of the bed, grabbed the pistol, and slid it back under her pillow. She pulled her head up.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, unable to hold in the shriek of fear.

  His mouth softened, guiding her head back to the pillow. "I'm going to kiss you and when I'm done doing that, I'm going to touch you, and when you're ready, I'm going to fuck you. At any time you get scared and want me to stop, you've got the pistol and can shoot me."

  "Cam..." Her mouth opened to protest, but no words came out.

  "Shoot me, baby," he whispered as his lips came down and captured hers.

  Shocked, the overwhelming sensation of suffocating kept her from fighting him off. She held her breath, going through what he'd told her.

  Shoot him?

  She could shoot him.

  She would shoot him.

  His lips softened and pulled back. She sucked in a breath, lightheaded. Then he went back to kissing her. She lay flat unable to lift her arms, shocked after years of dreaming and imagining what his kiss would be like, and she was unprepared.

  He'd gone weeks without pushing her. She'd gone years wondering. And during the most important moment of her life, her brain refused to work. All she could do was feel.

  The warmth of his mouth was better than any heat she could try to create. His lips, stronger and thicker than hers, dominated her. Her eyes closed. She wanted to watch, but she couldn't force her eyelids open or move her lips or taste his mouth.

  The whiskers from his beard and mustache brushed her chin, her cheeks, and the bottom of her nose. The coarse caress tickled and yet comforted her. This was Cam, who'd reached out to her with words. When he'd refused to talk to her and explain what was going on in his head, he showed her in ways she could see he was the man who'd told her it was okay to live, despite her anger and bad thoughts.

  He eased back, sucking on her lower lip. She took another breath, surprised she was capable of drawing air into her lungs. He softened the nip with a caress of his tongue.

  The last time she'd kissed a boy—she moaned. God, she couldn't even remember the boy's name.

  His hot tongue loosened her jaw and her mouth opened. Instead of plunging inside of her and taking advantage of her inexperience, he continued to kiss her lips.

  The bottom lip.

  The top lip.

  Finally, he sealed his mouth to her lips and held her captive. The heat pushed past her resolve. Curious, she touched her tongue against his lip and retreated.

  Cam groaned in approval. Her lower body fluttered, liking the guttural sound she'd drawn from him. She held still, waiting for the sensation to come back. Disappointed when nothing else happened, she tasted him again. His tongue came out to meet hers and his breath quickened. Her sex pulsed and she squeezed her thighs together. Even her clothes against her skin added friction to her highly sensitive body.

  "I'm going to move my hand," he whispered against her lips.

  The hand on her stomach slid across her skin and possessively cupped her hip. She dug her nails into Cam's bicep, unaware until that moment she was holding on to him instead of pushing him away.

  Cam murmured against her lips, "Keep kissing me."

  "How am I supposed to concentrate on doing that when your hand is moving?" She gulped for air not recognizing the moan in her voice, the desperate need to keep the feelings Cam handed her bottled inside of her where anger and confusion usually resided.

  His mouth softened against hers. "Then focus on my hand, because it's going to move again.

  He stayed above her and true to his word, his fingers trailed a hot path down the outside of her thigh. Her nipples tingled, constricting tighter. Fear mingled with pleasure, and she laid there paralyzed. What he was doing did her head in.

  She should stop him. She should get up. She should get the pistol and shoot him.

  "I'm Cam. I'm prisoner #18794." He inhaled deeply, slipping his hand underneath her knee and bringing her leg over his hip. "I won't hurt you."

  "I don't think this is smart...," she whispered, straining against his hand.

  He held her wide open. "Fuck being smart. Let me give this to you."

  Her chest constricted. She stared at his face. She had no idea who Cam was any more. A tear slipped down her cheek. What he was doing to her should be illegal. He'd kidnapped her, and he held her against her will. He killed people. She wasn't the kind of person who could accept someone with no respect for others.

  "Trust me not to hurt you." Cam's fingers squeezed the meat of her thigh.

  Could she trust him? She moaned, unable to come up with a quick answer.

  From day one, he'd told her the truth. She'd witnessed him holding back, giving her time. Every time he touched her, his hand shook, barely contained, but he hadn't pushed her up until this moment. When he looked at her lately, she melted. It came as no surprise he wanted to have sex with her. He took her, because he wanted all of her.

  Her heart raced and she squirmed. She'd thought about having sex with him every second since he started sleeping in the same bed.

  He rubbed the inside of her thigh. Her breath hitched. He was everything she was not. She'd watched him take the life of two men today, to protect her, to make her future safer. He hadn't excused what he'd done, and she had no doubt if Cam hadn't murdered them, they would've killed her, and probably him too.

  Cam offered her a relationship that gave her strength, confidence, and stability, and brought an order to her life on what she could expect. That was something she'd never had before and craved. He possessed the strength to do what she should've done to the man who'd killed her parents.

  What Cam did wasn't right, but it wasn't wrong when he saved her.

  More confident, she lifted her hips.

  Cam sat up, undid her jeans, and pulled them off, taking her panties too. She clamped her leg
s together. Exposed and vulnerable, she couldn't stop him from taking her however way he wanted. His strength and control overpowered her.

  "Open up for me," he ordered.

  She hesitated. What if she panicked and did end up shooting him?

  He gently moved her leg. She exhaled loudly, wanting to give him permission to keep going, and scared she'd disappoint him.

  "You have control. Just grab the pistol if you want me to stop." Cam's gaze stayed on her.

  She nodded. "Okay."

  He moved between her legs and instead of coming up and over her body, he lowered his mouth to her sex. She closed her legs, trapping his head between her thighs, but she wasn't fast enough. His tongue came out and swiped the sensitive folds.

  Heat, like nothing she'd experienced before, swarmed her body. She bucked against him, trying to dislodge him. The sensation too much, too soon, she wasn't ready.

  But, her body betrayed her. Her legs fell to the sides, and she moaned from deep in her body. She fisted the blanket at her hips. The urge to press herself to his mouth overwhelmed her, and she lifted her hips. She wanted what he was doing.

  Need spiraled tighter in her lower belly, and the alien feeling took her by surprise. She wanted him to touch her more, fill her body, and never to stop.

  He licked a path from her wetness to her clit. Her toes curled and she pressed her heels into the mattress. She wanted him to stop, to continue, to get rid of the chaos of needing and wanting him so much she lost all common sense.

  What was he doing to her?

  Her body burned.

  Her lungs screamed for air.

  Her pussy—Oh God, was that sloppy wet sound coming from Cam or her?

  She moaned and clawed wildly, grabbing for Cam. She needed help. She wanted him to make what was hovering out of reach happen.

  He raised his head. She groaned in frustration.

  The clink of his belt buckle against his zipper wiped away the pleasure she'd experienced a second ago. She turned her head away from him.

  "No...please." She tried to close her legs, but his bulk settled between them. "Don't ruin it."

  "Look at me." His bulky arms trapped her to the mattress. "Were you feeling good?"