Hold Me Down (The Deacons of Bourbon Street #3)

by Jackie Ashenden

  Or leave the Ministry. Leave Blade and the only family she’d known for the past five years. Go to the Deacons, who might or might not welcome her. Go to Blue, who certainly wanted her.

  Fear curled inside her at the thought, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was only because being with him demanded so much. He wanted everything from her, and yet, as he’d made it so clear, his first loyalty would always be to his club. She would never come first for him. She wouldn’t ever feel safe with him.

  Are you sure that’s what you’re really afraid of?

  Sick of herself, Alice pushed the thought away.

  They rode for what seemed like a very long time, out along LA 23, into the dark, into the night. Until the city had been left behind and they were out in the countryside, the humid air a thick blanket and the smell of flowers and swamps everywhere.

  They’d sped past Empire and Buras when Blue finally turned the bike off the highway and down a small cracked road, overhung with trees.

  She had no idea where he was taking her, not even when Blue pulled the bike up next to a pier, the waters of the bayou making slapping sounds against the wooden supports.

  In the darkness ahead of her was a massive black shape that she thought at first was a boat moored to the pier. But then no, it couldn’t be. It was way too boxy to be a boat and it looked like it had a pointed roof.

  Blue took the keys out of the ignition and got off the bike.

  “Where are we?” After the long ride and the roar of the Harley, her voice sounded weak in the silence.

  “You’ll see.” He grabbed something out of the saddlebags. His cut. Shrugging it on, he turned and went down the pier, walking along it in the direction of that massive, dark shape, his boots making hollow sounds on the wood.

  Puzzled, Alice slid off the bike and followed him along the pier, the scent of salt and mud now strong in the air.

  There was a railed gangplank leading down to the massive shape, Blue unhesitatingly striding toward it.

  Alice stared. The shape was a house. A floating house.

  A few things suddenly fell into place. He’d brought her out to the bayou. The bayou he’d spent the last ten years living on.

  She started down the gangplank that led to the house’s porch. Blue had unlocked the front door and pushed it wide as she approached. The compellingly beautiful lines of his face were granite hard, his eyes pools of darkness. She could read nothing in them, nothing at all.

  “This is your house, isn’t it?” she asked. “Why are we here?”

  He didn’t reply, jerking his chin in the direction of the door.

  Alice let out a breath. Okay, if he’s going to be like this, let him. She went past him, stepping rather unsteadily through the doorway.

  Blue followed her inside and closed the door, reaching for the light switch.

  Light flooded the area.

  There was no hall, the door opening straight into a living area, divided by a counter to separate a tiny galley kitchen in the back half. A couch was pushed up against one wall facing a bookshelf with a TV on top of it on the opposite side of the room. There was a small table beside the front door, with a couple of chairs pulled up.

  The whole space was small and very bare. There were few books in the bookshelves, no photos or pictures on the walls, no knickknacks or any other personal objects lying around. Nothing to say that a man had been living in this place for ten years.

  The smells of salt and swamp water were stronger in here and the air felt damp. The whole place felt unlived in. It reminded her of a hotel room.

  Blue brushed past her, going over to the kitchen area and pulling open the fridge that stood in one corner. He cursed under his breath and closed it.

  The floor moving under her feet was disconcerting. But then no more disconcerting than this whole damn situation.

  “Blue,” she said quietly, insistently. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  He turned to face her. Even dressed in a dark blue T-shirt, jeans, and his cut, with his shaggy gold hair gleaming in the light, he looked like some aristocrat fallen on hard times. Unshaven and battered and rough, yet so beautiful he made her chest hurt.

  “Ajax is moving on the Ministry,” he said, his voice flat. “You can’t be around when that happens.”

  She blinked, not processing it for a second. “What? But I thought he was going to wait until—”

  “Yeah, well, he got sick of waiting.” There was something in Blue’s eyes she couldn’t read. “Some of Blade’s officers are out of town tonight, so the timing’s perfect. Ajax has got some buddies of his who’re gonna help.”

  Fear threaded down her spine. “Blue…Blade didn’t do it. This is crazy.”

  “Crazy or not, that’s exactly what’s happening. Ajax wants revenge and he’s gonna take it.”

  Shock had gotten a grip on her, making her feel cold and uncertain, not helped by the uneasy shifting of the floor beneath her feet. “So why did you bring me here?”

  “I wanted to get you out of town. Keep you safe.”

  “But I need to warn Blade.” Automatically she reached for her phone in the back pocket of her jeans.

  Instantly Blue was across the room, his strong fingers wrapping themselves around her wrist and holding it, grabbing her phone with the other hand. Keeping his hold on her, he threw the phone negligently down onto the couch. “You’re not gonna do that, baby. I can’t let you.”

  She stared up at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “Ajax is insane. The Ministry will destroy you.”

  Blue shook his head. “Ajax hasn’t been doing nothing these past ten years. He’s been a fucking mercenary. You think he doesn’t know strategy? Anyway, like I said, he’s got some friends who’ll be helping out.”

  The fear inside her grew colder. “Blade is innocent. You’re going after the wrong guy. You’re going to get a whole lot of people killed over nothing.”

  His dark eyes flickered. “If he’s innocent, then explain that payment that went out of his account. Explain why it was a Ministry bastard who did the dirty work. The most obvious explanation is usually the right one.”

  She swallowed. “Yeah, I know, but not in this case. He was set up—that’s the only explanation.”

  “Set up by whom? And why?” His voice was hard. “There’s no proof, Red. Only Blade’s word.”

  He was right. There was no proof, and Blade hadn’t been interested in getting any.

  Stupid, stupid bikers.

  The fear gathered into an icy lump in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to beg, but she couldn’t stand by and let something happen to Blade, to her club, without doing something to help them. “Please, Blue,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, firm. “Let me warn him.”

  Blue’s eyes glittered in the light. He still had his fingers around her wrist, not holding her hard, but firmly enough that she couldn’t pull away. His touch was so warm, reminding her of her own hunger for him. Of being in his bed, with his hands all over her, his cock inside her.

  This is mine, baby. All of it.

  She’d wanted to be his for so long, but it was all very different now. She was different, and the easy friendship they’d once had was years in the past. Now there was only sex and anger and tension. Conflicted loyalties and possessiveness. It was explosive, but it wasn’t what she’d imagined all those years ago when she used to fantasize about being his woman. When she’d fallen for his honesty, his loyalty, his intensity. She’d loved him back then. But he wasn’t the same man now.

  There would be no peace with him. No safety.

  As if emphasizing that fact, his fingers tightened. “No,” he said softly.

  And just like that the icy lump in her gut melted, turned into red-hot, flaming anger.

  Alice took a step toward him, closing the small distance between them, getting right up in his face. “You do remember that I can’t have kids, right? That my blood family is gone? I won’t be able to have another one. So I have to
make my own. And I have at the Ministry. I have them and the only thing left of my dad, that bike shop.”

  Something dark shifted in his eyes, something that looked like pain. “You think I don’t know that? Believe me, I’m supremely fucking aware of that fact.”

  “So you’re completely happy to destroy any peace I’ve found, and all for the sake of some revenge for a dead man? Revenge that isn’t even directed at the right person?”

  His beautiful mouth twisted. “Red, don’t—”

  But she was too angry to stop. “You’re just like your fucking father, Leon. You don’t care who you hurt as long as you get what you want.”

  The words echoed in the musty, damp house as loud as a slap. Unfair to bring his father into this, but she didn’t care. Nothing about this situation was fair.

  The fact that her mother left. That her father died. That her best friend had gone without a word. That an ill-advised hookup had screwed up any chances of having a family of her own.

  None of it was fair.

  Temper glittered in Blue’s eyes, the look on his face hardening. “Don’t you bring him into this. I’m nothing like him. I’m keeping my promises. I’m protecting my fucking club.”

  “Yeah, and so am I.”

  Silence fell, the tension between them thick and hot as the bayou night outside.

  She could feel the heat coming off him, that hard, delectable body of his so close to hers, and she was almost trembling with anger and something close to desperation.

  What had happened to them? The Blue and Red of years ago…where was the friendship they’d once had? It was gone, and it was never coming back.

  There were tears in her eyes and she didn’t know how they’d gotten there.

  It would always be this way. They’d always be torn. Him with his club and his insistence on loyalty. Her with her need for a family, for people she belonged with. Whatever they chose, it would always end in pain, in loss. And she just didn’t need any more loss in her life.

  “Why did you come back, Blue?” she demanded, abruptly. “You should have stayed out here. You should have left me alone.”

  He didn’t reply, staring at her. In the harsh light of the room, he looked taut, hard, and very, very dangerous, the fascinating intensity he’d always had prowling beneath his skin.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t.” The rough edge in his voice made her want to shiver. “I came back. I found you.”

  Suddenly she couldn’t stand it anymore.

  There was only one thing that had ever made sense between them. Only one thing that they were in complete agreement on. Only one thing he could give her.

  Alice rose up on her toes, hooked her arm around his neck, and pulled his hard, beautiful mouth down on hers.

  —

  He’d sworn to himself he wasn’t going to touch her, that he’d keep his distance. And he was a man who kept his vows.

  But the moment her lips found his, all those vows shattered utterly.

  What about the one that was going to let her go?

  Yeah, and that one, too. Especially that one.

  The heat between them exploded like gas thrown over a bonfire, the flames leaping high, intense, consuming. He shouldn’t be touching her, but he did anyway, his mouth opening on hers, hungry and demanding, his hands finding her hips and gripping her tight. Then he moved, slamming her up against the wall of the shitty little floating house he’d spent the last ten years living in, one hand buried in her red hair as he devoured her mouth, the other jerking up her T-shirt.

  And she gave as good as she got, her fingers digging into his shoulder as she kissed him back just as hard, just as hungrily. Her teeth sunk into his bottom lip, nipping him, and he felt the shock of it pulse like lightning down his spine.

  Christ, he was so fucking hard. It had only been two days since he’d had his hands on her, but that was just two fucking days too many.

  This will be the last time. You know it.

  Some part of him did, even though the possessive side of him howled in denial. Because he’d looked into those sky-blue eyes of hers and seen the anguish, seen the despair. And he knew she was right, knew he should never have come back to New Orleans. Because what they had between them was impossible. It always had been.

  He just couldn’t keep causing her pain anymore, couldn’t keep pulling, watching her tear herself in two, caught between her loyalties to the Ministry and her loyalty to him. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right.

  He should never have brought her here in the first place, back to the place he’d called home for so long. He didn’t even know why he had, only that he had to get her away where no one could find her. What he should have done was let her go, back there in the alley. Telling himself and Ajax that he needed to protect her had only been an excuse. He’d just…wanted to keep her and never let her go.

  But he would. Because she was wrong about one thing: he wasn’t like his father, only thinking of himself and his dick. He would think about her and what she wanted. He’d let her leave to warn Blade. To protect her club. And the Deacons…well, he’d have to reconcile that with his conscience later.

  Right now, though, he’d have this. He’d have her for the last time. Because he sure as hell didn’t want anyone else and probably never would.

  It was always Alice for him. Always had been.

  “Fuck, Red,” he growled against her taunting mouth. “I’ll show you what happens to bitches who bite.” Digging his fingers hard into her hair, he dragged her head back farther, exposing her long, pale throat. Then he bent and set his own teeth around the sensitive tendons on her neck, applying some pressure.

  She gasped, arching back against the wall, her breasts pressing into his chest. “Blue…”

  He licked the bite, then bit her again as he dragged her T-shirt up, exposing the black lace of her bra. He could see the rosy outline of her nipples. A growl vibrated in his chest and he tore aside the fabric of one cup, baring her. Lowering his head, he licked one stiff little nipple, feeling a shiver go through her body. So he did it again, teasing her.

  She groaned, arching farther back and lifting her hips, the heat between her thighs pressing against his agonizingly hard cock.

  Ah, Christ, he wanted her. He wanted to taste every inch of her, be inside every part of her. Cover himself with her smell and her taste and the feel of her. Give himself something to hold onto after she was gone.

  Impatient, he pulled back abruptly. Her clothes had to go. He wanted her naked.

  “Blue?” She blinked at him.

  “Off,” he said, hauling up her T-shirt.

  She obediently lifted her arms and then it was gone, leaving her in that sexy little bra. But he wanted that gone too, ripping it away from her body, tearing it. She didn’t make a sound, leaning back against the wall, letting him expose all that pale, milky skin.

  He dropped to his knees in front of her, dealing with her boots, then roughly jerking down her jeans and taking her panties with them. So that seconds later she stood there, naked.

  Beautiful. So fucking beautiful.

  Still on his knees, he ran his hands up the backs of her thighs, gripping her tight. Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to the tangle of red curls between her legs, one long lick up the center of her pussy before flicking the hard bud of her clit with his tongue.

  She shuddered, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Oh, God…”

  He eased her thighs wider, then used his thumbs to spread open her slick folds, exploring her deeper with his tongue, using a finger to tease that little clit of hers, to drive her utterly mad.

  Her body shook. “Blue…Jesus…”

  Her grip of his hair was painful, but he welcomed the pain. Shit, he welcomed any of the sensations she gave him—they were all fucking fantastic, all exactly what he wanted. Even if they hurt.

  He buried his face in her pussy, pushed his tongue deep inside her, and slid his hands up to cup the softness of her ass, squeezing. She trembled and
gasped as he devoured her, licked her like ice cream, ate her up like he’d been starving and she was his first food in years. Until she was moaning, until her whole body tensed and she gave a long, low cry, until he could feel the climax ripping through her.

  Only then did he pull away, getting to his feet and grabbing his wallet from his back pocket, taking out a condom. He threw the wallet carelessly on the floor before ripping open the packet, undoing his jeans and releasing his cock with his other hand. Protecting himself with shaking fingers.

  Alice was leaning back against the wall, watching him from underneath red-gold lashes. Her skin was flushed, her mouth full and pouty, and he wanted her so bad he could hardly breathe.

  He closed the distance between them, sliding one hand beneath her thigh and lifting her leg up high around his waist, tilting her hips. She gave a long sigh, arching like a cat, her tits lifting as she did so, and he just couldn’t fucking wait any longer.

  Positioning himself, he thrust deep and hard into her, slamming her back against the wall. She gasped and his mind just about blanked. Because she was so hot and so goddamn tight, her pussy clamping down around his cock like she never wanted to let him go.

  “Red…” His voice didn’t sound like his own, ragged and rough. “Red…fuck…”

  He couldn’t move; he just wanted to stay like this. Inside her. Joined. Connecting in the only way they could.

  Her eyes were wide now, looking into his. So blue. Like his name, like she was carrying a little piece of him wherever she went.

  He pulled back, slowly. Just so he could feel the slick slide of her against him, and it was heaven. Or at least the closest to heaven he’d ever get.

  She put out a hand, her fingers to his cheek, her touch featherlight. “I loved you once.” The words were a soft murmur. “Did you know that? I think from the moment you came to the Deacons clubhouse to apologize for your father. You were so scared and yet you came anyway. You came for me. And I…I fell for you, Blue. Even then.”