by Debra Kayn
"Sunshine," Torque said, arching his back while lifting her chin. "What's going on?"
"I want you," she blurted.
Desperate to keep things even between them, at the most basic level, and needing to keep him from asking too many questions, she slid her hands up his chest. Her fingers curled around the edges of his hair brushing his shoulders. Unable to reach his mouth, she tugged on him as she stretched to her tiptoes and kissed him.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth, and his hand circled the back of her neck, through her hair, and pulled her away. He glared down at her. "No."
She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, and he kissed her. His tongue stroked hers, taking, and dominating her. The aggression surprised and delighted her. Her body melted into his capable hands. He took away her indecisiveness and allowed her to accept whatever he wanted to do to her without any responsibility.
He held her tight, bending her body to his will. Her breasts pulsed. Her sex dampened. Emotions relaxed her throat, and she hung on to Torque to keep from losing herself. He created a maelstrom of feelings throughout every inch of her that had nothing to do with should she or shouldn't she have sex with him.
She was definitely going to have sex. At this moment, that's all she needed.
Then she was in Torque's arms, her feet off the floor, her head cradled in the palm of his hand. Her muscles warmed and relaxed. The whole time he carried her to the bedroom, he continued kissing her. There was nothing required of her, but to accept what he was doing to her.
He placed her on the bed, followed her down, and lay on top of her. Her legs gave way to his weight and he settled against her sex. At the brush of his body, she frantically reached for him.
He stilled. "No."
She held on to his biceps, lost in what was happening to make his body harden—and not in a good way. She wanted to have sex. He wanted to have sex. She could feel the proof of his arousal between her legs.
"What did I do?" she said, or maybe she only thought the question because he never answered.
He pushed her top up over her breasts, pulled down her bra, and latched on to her nipple. Electric jolts seared her core. His tongue caressed the sensitive bud, alternating between a hard suck and lavishing attention on her. She arched off the bed, needing and wanting more.
Torque's hands moved to her arms, drawing her hands out to the sides, until she posed on the mattress like a sacrificial peace offering. He lifted his head. The coldness of the room brushed her breast where his moist mouth had been, and she trembled as her nipples constricted into a tight bundle of nerves that picked up Torque's warm breath.
"Keep your hands on the bed and don't move." He moved down her body until he stood on the floor.
He pulled off her boots and tossed them to the floor. She watched every move, afraid if she sat up or went to him, he'd stop. Stopping wasn't an option. She wanted him to go faster, but he continued taking his time.
Torque undid her zipper. She shivered. The trill of the teeth coming undone reminded her of how Torque used his teeth to rasp over her bottom lip yesterday, and how much she liked when he kissed her without any restraint.
He undid the button on her jeans and tugged. She lifted her hips, and laid back down, bare from the scrunched shirt under her armpits down to the tip of her toes. He held out his hand, pulled her into a sitting position, and finished undressing her. Perfectly capable of removing her clothes herself, the wait tortured her. She was a bundle of nerves, sensitive to every movement, every breath, every look coming from Torque.
She swallowed hard. The thought of him doing what he's doing to her, but on one of the women who stayed a few cabins down from hers constricted her throat. She closed her eyes, hiding from the truth.
"Hey," he whispered huskily, hovering over her. "Look at me."
She nodded slightly and opened her eyes. "Please don't stop?"
His eyes warmed and for the second time, she noticed a shift in his demeanor. She relaxed her hands, letting her fingers straighten. She pushed why she wanted to please him out of her thoughts, and concentrated on what he was doing.
It was a one-night stand.
It was only sex.
It was safer with Torque than in reality.
He removed a condom from the wallet attached to the chain on his belt. She lifted her arm and stroked the flame running over his chest and onto his neck. His muscles tensed, and a low crooning sound came from his throat. She removed her hand and placed it back on the bed. That didn't stop her from looking instead.
Two rough spherical scars marked his left side below his shoulder at the top of his chest. The edges of the injuries stood out red against his tanned skin. She inhaled deeply, because the wounds looked angry and tender. Suddenly, his refusal to let her touch him made sense. He'd been hurt. He wanted to protect his shoulder.
"Eyes on me." He shoved his jeans down.
She snapped her gaze to his face. "You're hurt."
His brows lowered and he studied her. Finally, he said, "About eleven months ago. I'm fine."
"It looks so—"
"It's fine." He pushed her legs farther apart. "Wet and ready."
"God, yes," she whispered.
He put his hardness to the opening of her sex and slid inside of her in one thrust. Her whole body tensed, not in shock, not in discomfort, not in fear. All her crazy, unpredictable feelings multiplied at once carrying her away. She panted, trying to catch her breath over her pulsating body. Her muscles warmed and spasmed, squeezing and rejoicing.
Clutching the worn bedspread underneath her, she braced against the need to grind her pelvis against him. "Oh God, please."
She needed fast, hard, relief. Instead, Torque slowly pulled out of her until he was barely in her wetness. She squirmed, and he sank back inside of her. Her eyelids fluttered and she fought to keep looking at him. She wanted to moan and thrash on the bed, but she remained perfectly still, letting Torque do everything.
"All sunshine and happy," he muttered, thrusting in, pulling out, stroking her from the inside, and setting her body on fire.
Torque controlled the moment. Her nipples constricted and her skin tingled She relied on him to keep going and bring her pleasure. At his mercy, instead of feeling vulnerable, she basked in knowing he'd satisfy her.
That confidence in another person's ability she received from him was better than anything she'd ever experienced. For as long as she could remember, she was the one responsible to keep her parents moving forward. The only one held accountable for the other employees, the customers, the bills. For years, she'd wanted to escape.
Torque lowered his head and took her breast in his mouth. She bit down on her lip, and even trying to stop the moan from coming out of her thrilled her. She greedily participated by giving Torque what he needed, total control. In return, she got more than she would even know to ask for.
No responsibility, no demands, no pressure to perform.
He forced her to only feel, and suspended time. Her worries evaporated, her security was right here on the bed with him, and he had her undivided attention. He'd done the impossible, and she wasn't going to waste what he was giving her.
Torque balanced on one arm and touched her between the legs without missing a stroke with his cock inside of her. She screamed in pleasure, bucking against him. All over, deep inside of her, every single inch, tightened, heated, spiraled.
The perfect pleasure intensified, and she couldn't stop. She dug her heels into the mattress as her body bowed on the bed. Torque continued plunging into her wetness, mumbling something she was past hearing.
Orgasmic spasms rocked her from deep in her lower stomach, her chest, and out to her fingertips. A flood of wonderful swept through her legs.
During her climax, Torque set his own rhythm, frantic and powerful. He kept her body reacting. Each thrust a caress, sending her deeper into herself.
Then he grunted, plunging fully inside of her and holding still. His dark eyes, vulner
able and passionate, soothed her. She shivered, lowering her hips onto the bed. She couldn't look away. For all purposes, she knew nothing about the man between her legs. He was a stranger, a biker, and in his words an asshole.
Torque's fervent emotions came from having sex. She knew that. She wasn't naïve.
But, as she laid there soaking in everything that had happened since they stepped foot into the cabin, she recognized the real Torque behind the gruff words, the leather vest, the hot body, the badass motorcycle. She was seeing a side of Torque that she suspected he kept carefully hidden. Now that he'd shown her that side of him, she wanted to know what caused the haunted fear shining in his eyes.
Chapter Six
Brandy gazed up at him with the softest, most beautiful smile. He struggled to catch his breath. He'd wanted power over her and when she gave total control to him without any reservations; he didn't know what to do. Jesus.
Her attention, her passion, her trust laid in his hands. His heart still raced. He never expected to take her choices away, but she'd handed them over to him like a damn gift.
Torque pushed himself off the bed, took the condom off, and tossed it in the wastebasket by the dresser. He should never have returned to the bar or Brandy.
She nearly killed him when she'd climaxed. He'd never had a woman who came undone and let herself go, with him, because of him, for him.
He'd known all along that she wasn't a bitch. He'd used her, and she didn't deserve a fly by fuck. His chest tightened, and he found himself struggling for a lungful of air. He warned her away, because he was desperate enough to take everything good about her if she stayed.
The room closed in on him. First Slade interrogated him, and then Tori let him know she was concerned about him. He should've known what he was doing. No matter how closed in he became, sex always pitched him the other way.
For the last twenty years, he'd used women, riding, and drink to even life out for him and make him forget the past. They were his medication, his downer on his up days and his uppers on his down days. He looped his belt through the front of his jeans and fastened the buckle. Shit, he had to leave the cabin. No, he had to leave Brandy.
A spring on the bed creaked. He stepped toward the opened door and before he could escape, Brandy's hand touched his back. He stopped, his body going into full-blown denial. "Sex, sunshine. That's all it was."
"Yeah," she whispered, dropping her hand. "I know."
Her understanding and sweet voice left him drowning. She was all sunshine and happy for a man living in a dark world.
He forced himself to keep looking forward while he walked to the front door and let himself out. The cool night dried the perspiration on his face, his neck, his arms. He continued walking. He almost wishing Brandy would've yelled or even hit him for how he treated her. The reasons why bothered him more than having sex with her. For the first time, he felt ugly and unfeeling. Something that never bothered him before.
Usually guilt escaped him. He'd ride the high, and leave before he ever settled his mind. Something happened back there when she'd hugged him. Her arms calmed him, and cleared his head. He enjoyed himself too much. What they shared seemed too similar to what always remained out of his grasp, and he was never allowed to have, and that made seeing Brandy again dangerous.
"Hey." Rain whistled, lifting his chin.
Torque took in Rain's location and without turning around to see if the cabin was in view, he knew his game was over. He veered over to the sidewalk and met Rain at the side of the building, knowing exactly what was going to happen. "What's up?"
"Everyone comes to the table tomorrow at three." Rain glanced to the left toward the cabin. "Be there, or we come looking for you. You'll be going against the vote."
There were a million excuses he could use to make the situation better. Every lie would've been easier to say than the truth. Rain wouldn't know if he was only returning Brandy's car keys or he'd forgotten one of his tools in her car or she'd asked him to check on her sticking door. But, he'd take responsibility for his actions. He'd fucked up. Big time.
He nodded. "I'll be there."
Club honor came first in his life. He'd broken a rule, and he'd take his punishment.
Rain left him alone. He walked over to his bike. Besides Rain, he'd been in the club more years than even Slade, the VP. A few times during his membership, he'd had to turn down the offer to stand at Rain's right side. It was nothing personal, because he respected his prez, his club, and his brothers. He preferred to distance himself, and not be disappointed.
Only Rain knew why he spent time in prison, but his president never asked for the truth. He'd spent seven years of his life shut away, five of those years as an adult in the worst penitentiary in Washington.
Positive there were more brothers in the club who'd spent time behind bars, he wasn't alone, but that was their business, not his. He'd told no one else about his past.
Tomorrow, he'd go in front of his club and let his family vote on his punishment. He rubbed the top of his chest, below his shoulder. Their judgment felt a lot like walking into a cell and hearing the door clang shut. His freedom was at risk for doing the crime of having sex with Brandy. This time, he was guilty.
"Fuck," he muttered.
He moved over to his bike, ripped his helmet from the Velcro strap on the bitch seat, and slapped it down on his head. At least he'd be the example of what would happen to any of the other members who tried to touch Brandy. He pushed the bike and flipped up the kickstand. Even that fact brought him no comfort.
"Wait," Brandy called, jogging across the parking lot.
Her shadowed form took shape the closer she came to him. Her black hoody hung down over her hips, covering a pair of black jeans. The Converse without laces on her feet showed him how important it was for her to talk with him, because she hadn't even taken the time to tie her shoes. Hell, the consequences of having sex with her couldn't even penetrate the lust he once again felt for her.
His stomach tightened and he forced himself not to react out of need to push her away. Rain already knew what he'd done. He couldn't change anything, but he wouldn't hurt her any more than he already did. She wasn't a bitch, she was a lady. A lady who needed a fucked up felon like she needed a gangbang.
And, even though he noted the significant differences between them—their age, their station in life, their personalities, he still wanted her.
She shoved her hands in the pouch of her sweatshirt, breathing hard, hair swept behind her shoulders but still mussed from when he'd ran his hands through it. He sighed heavily. Her bright, focused eyes tore him apart.
"I need to tell you something," she said, barely above a whisper.
He shook his head. "It was great sex, sunshine. That's all it was meant to be."
She was old enough to understand relationships started over dinner and wine, not on an old mattress inside a cabin, behind a biker bar. He moved his handlebars, holding his Harley up with his feet.
"I know." She nodded unequivocally. "Of course, I know that. I came out here so you'd understand that I have no delusions or...or thoughts that we'll repeat having sex. I knew exactly what I was doing, and what you were doing. But, you'd left like I'd contaminated you and—"
"No." He dropped his gaze to the gas tank on his bike. "Walking out of that cabin had nothing to do with you."
She tilted her head to the side. "O—kay. Fine. Great. I misunderstood then, and I can stop sounding ridiculous and leave you alone. Good night."
She backed up two steps and walked away with her shoulders back and her head held high. Maybe her strength and acceptance was the reason why he said, "Brandy?"
She turned around quickly. "Yeah?"
Emotions he tried hard to ignore surfaced, stealing his breath. He owed her the truth. "I broke club rules going into your cabin tonight and taking advantage of you. There's a meeting tomorrow, and you won't have to worry any longer. I'll pay for hurting you."
"But that's—"
"My fault. I broke club rules. I knew what I was doing and I'd do it again. That's why I'm sorry." He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the handlebars of his motorcycle. "Take care of yourself. Rain's a good guy. He'll make sure you're protected and your job is safe."
She took a step toward him and stopped. "I wanted to have sex with you and I'm not afraid to tell Rain what happened. We're both adults and it's not fair for anyone else to judge you for what you do on your own time. I'll talk to Rain and explain everything. He can't hold you accountable for a stupid club rule."
"The club makes rules for a reason and if I would've held up my end, you wouldn't be out here talking to me," he said.
She shook her head. "I don't agree, so I'll be the one to make everything right again for you."
His shoulders relaxed. What she said was probably the sweetest thing he'd ever heard someone say to him. "I'll handle Rain. You'll be fine and better off after tomorrow. Get some sleep."
She remained standing there, hands tucked into her hoody, eyes on him. He couldn't take anymore, and started his Harley. She continued watching him. He put his feet on the ground, pushed, and backed his bike out of his parking spot for club members only.
Brandy ran forward and put her hand on his arm, stopping him. "You're not an asshole," she spoke over the sound of the engine.
He grinned, because she was getting sweeter every minute. She was also naive and young. She had no idea.
"Go home." He lifted his chin motioning toward the cabin.
Her fingers tightened on his arm. "Thank you."
"For what?" he said.
Her mouth tightened into a thin line. He almost missed the slight shake of her head, refusing to answer. Then she threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight, freezing him in position, unsure of what to do, because everything changed when she held him.
He cleared his throat. "Sunshine?"
She leaned back dropped her arms, and walked away without knowing what he wanted to say. He stayed on his bike until she hopped up on the porch of the cabin and opened the door. Only when she was safe, tucked into her little cabin, did he ride away. Instead of cleaning up the mess he'd made, he'd created more questions than answers.