She jumped and Travis pulled at his shackles even harder when Deacon leaned down and un-cuffed her. She tried to pull away from him when he gripped her head and examined the back of it.
“Should be okay. I don’t think you re-concussed.”
Something about the way he carefully checked her for injuries ramped down the adrenaline coursing through her system; in her gut, it didn’t feel like he was getting ready to hurt or kill her.
His demeanor made her curious, not fearful. She got her sobs under control, and readiness settled into her body.
“Why do you care? You’re just going to kill me. And how do you know I got a concussion?”
Deacon shook his head and laughed before pulling her to her feet. Then, he steadied her when she wobbled. He pointed to his office.
“Can you walk?” She nodded. “Go sit down, and we’ll talk.” He turned to Travis. “If I let you go, are you going to try something?”
“Probably.” Travis’s voice grated. The iciness in his voice made her stop crying. His composure made her feel safer somehow.
Deacon shrugged and undid his cuffs. “Got the drop on you once.” Smug motherfucking smirk on his face, too.
Skyler walked, only a little wobbly, into the office and fell into one of the chairs.
Deacon didn’t help Travis get up, and he made her man walk in front of him. Even though she wasn’t in the position to do anything to him, she eyed him with a look she hoped said: You hurt him and you die.
Travis sat down next to her, and they reached for each other at the same time. His grip on her hand almost hurt, but she wouldn’t complain. Touching him again was worth it. Knowing she could trust him was worth it.
Deacon slid into his desk chair and put his feet up on the desk, casual-like. Jerk.
“So, you’re both probably wondering why you aren’t being tortured to death.”
Skyler found her words first. “Accurate.”
Travis’s fingers tightened even more. “Fuck you.”
She turned to him then. “Best not to piss him off, babe.”
He leaned back into the chair, as if willing himself to settle down, save energy for a fight to come.
Deacon tapped out an unrecognizable beat on his thigh. “Two Diablos almost died today. The rest of the club wants blood. You might want to listen to your woman.”
“They were cooking meth on my property. Volatile shit that explodes all the time without any help. But our ears are open.” She sat back since everyone else in the room wanted to mimic relaxation.
“I’m supposed to mete out the club’s justice. That’s my job here. You know how this usually goes—a couple of us die, a couple more of you die until there’s none of us left. But the Diablos aren’t in the murdering business. Not since your dad went up. We’re going to have to go another route.” Deacon sat forward and looked her in the eye. Travis growled again. These two were worse than a couple of junkyard dogs. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I can’t decide, though.”
“Decide what, fuckwad?” Travis’s attitude wasn’t helping.
Deacon didn’t take his eyes off her when he said, “Whether I’m going to settle for a beat down for you and your woman, or burn down your business and maybe your house. If I have energy left over, I’ll burn her vineyards, probably that pretty house she’s gonna build, too.”
Travis flew across the desk in a split second. Deacon’s chair crashed to the floor. Travis’s hands went around the other man’s throat. Skyler stood and watched until Deacon’s face turned red; she was surprised to notice Deacon didn’t fight back right away.
She flattened herself against the wall, feeling like a caged animal. The violence flowing from Travis to Deacon filled the room with its energy. And, when Deacon started to fight back, her hands shook. The bruise that had welled under her eye started to throb as adrenaline kicked through her veins again.
Travis still had Deacon pinned behind the desk, but she could hear him grunt as Deacon got in a hit or two. The way they were positioned made it just as likely that she’d hurt Travis if she jumped into the fray.
Then they rolled. Deacon loomed over Travis with his knee in her lover’s chest. He drew back his fist. When he brought it back down, she heard bones crack. She tiptoed over to the desk. She hoped she hadn’t made the wrong choice. If she left the office, she could use one of Deacon’s torture devices to incapacitate him. But she was pretty sure the odds were against her if she went after a man double her weight with a whip or a cane.
She didn’t take her eyes off the two men, who seemed intent to fight until one of them died, as she felt around in the top drawer of the desk.
She needed to be quiet; she didn’t want Deacon to notice her digging around for a weapon. But she couldn’t stop the shriek of fear that left her mouth when he cracked Travis’s head on the floor so viciously Travis yelped.
But that just seemed to light a fire under her man’s rage. Travis grabbed Deacon’s ears and head-butted him. Her search had come up with nothing but paperclips, which wouldn’t do her any good.
Until the last drawer.
At the very back of the bottom drawer, her fingers found the handle of a revolver. No use worrying about the fact she’d never used a gun before. She had to at least try to stop Deacon from killing Travis. Stop Travis from risking prison to keep her safe.
The two men had rolled again, and Travis delivered several hard punches to Deacon’s side. She edged around the desk, and heard Deacon grunt as if his insides were being scooped out with each blow.
“Stop it.” She didn’t know how her voice remained so steady. At first, neither man listened, but Travis’s attention must have broken because Deacon got the heel of his hand wedged under Travis’s throat. Travis croaked and gasped and she knew she had to end this now. “I have a gun.”
That got both of their attention. Travis fell backward, panting. Deacon wasted no time and levered himself up off the floor like Travis hadn’t just beaten him bloody. He stalked toward her.
She cocked the safety and prepared to squeeze the trigger, but Deacon grabbed the muzzle and twisted the gun along with her whole arm behind her back. He grabbed her arm hard enough that she’d have dislocated her shoulder if she’d tried to move. His grip was so tight that she could swear his fingers pressed into her bone.
Travis staggered to his feet, but was still doubled over trying to get his breath back.
He looked up at her, and she’d never seen such terror on his face. She’d wanted to help him, but she’d just made things worse. And now they’d both pay for it.
But behind the fear, there was also the love. Blood ran down the side of his face and his shirt was soiled with sweat and red droplets, but the love was still there. She couldn’t give up, especially if giving up meant she’d lose the chance for him to look at her that way again.
“You should have checked to see if it was loaded.” Deacon’s voice was so cold it made her start to shiver.
“It’s not?”
“No, it’s not.”
She brought the heel of her boot down on Deacon’s foot. The gun fell from her fingers, but she got her arm back in his shock.
Travis saw her make the move. As soon as she was clear of the path, he rushed Deacon.
“Handcuffs.” Travis’s voice sounded rough, but she made quick to leave the office and grab the first cuffs she found on Deacon’s dungeon wall. She grabbed a cane for good measure.
She heard another crunch of fist against flesh and hoped it wasn’t Travis.
But, in the short time she’d been out of the room, Travis had planted his knee in Deacon’s groin and knocked him out.
Wordlessly, she handed Travis the cuffs. He snapped the unconscious man’s wrists around the leg of the heavy desk.
They backed up to the wall. Travis dialed 911 with one hand and grabbed her by the hip with the other. Hopefully, the sheriff would make himself useful for once. She wanted nothing more than to collapse into him, but she knew there�
��d be cops and statements to deal with.
When Travis got off the phone, he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her on the mouth. She was so happy to be able to touch him again she didn’t care she could taste blood on his lips. She spread her hands out over his chest, curled her fingers in, wanting to claw her way even closer, but he pulled back.
“Gun range,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m adding a gun range to the Foundry so you can learn how to handle a goddamned firearm.”
Travis pulled her closer and kissed her temple. His lips were cool, dry comfort.
“I love you, too, Travis.”
Travis was barely holding on before she told him she loved him. At those words, from this woman, he sat down, bringing her with him.
Then, Ethan showed up to arrest Deacon, who still hadn’t come to. Travis could have killed the man when he threatened Skyler; he was lucky she intervened when she had. He would have ended the other man—or died trying—given the opportunity. He still might find a way to put Deacon in the ground if he ever got out of Chino.
Travis growled at Ethan when he tried to question Skyler. Roy had punched her in the face, and Deacon tossed her to the ground when her barn exploded and chained her up. Fucking Deacon. She didn’t need to be interrogated. She needed medical attention.
Luckily, Ethan backed off.
When they walked out of Deacon’s house, an ambulance waited, but Skyler grasped his hand even tighter when the paramedic tried to get her on a gurney.
“Can we just go to the clinic? I'm really okay. I’m more worried about you. He got in some good shots.”
He turned her so their bodies were flush. “I’m not going to the hospital if you’re not.”
She grunted into his chest, and he led her to the bike. She managed to make it up the stairs, so she could ride. She was probably in better shape than he was. He winced when she wrapped her arms around him before he took off.
It took damned near forever for Gabe to check them both out, and pronounce them both “battered, but not unreasonably so.” He glowered at Gabe the whole time he checked Skyler out, and Skyler did the same. The good doctor grumbled the whole time about how the examinations would take less time if he could see to them separately, but Travis refused to leave the room, not so close to when he’d almost lost her.
Finally, Gabe left to see to a vomiting toddler and they were alone.
He still couldn’t believe she loved him and she wasn’t going to disappear on him. The way she looked when he came to in the basement had him thinking she was figuring out how she could run the winery from the other side of the world. Anyplace where she wouldn’t have to deal with him.
But she loved him. Just because she’d said the words, didn’t mean she’d actually find her way toward being with him, did it? She’d still wanted to stay the hell away from bikers, wouldn’t she? Especially now. Instead of assuming, which had kept them apart for days—felt like years—why didn’t he just ask her?
He pulled her into his lap again on the exam table.
“Say it again.” His smile was just about to break his already bruised face.
“I’m in love with you.” She smiled, too.
“And you want to be with me?” He couldn’t keep the uncertainty out of his voice.
She gently grabbed the sides of his face with two hands and anchored her gaze to his. She was close enough that he could smell her.
“Yes.” He breathed deep, taking the moment in. She gave him a quick peck on the lips before continuing. “I need to be with you. The week since she’d seen him was like torture. I haven’t let myself miss anyone in years, and I almost didn’t know how to take it.”
Travis ran his hands up her sides, underneath her T-shirt. She shivered and her skin pebbled in tiny goose bumps. He loved how she reacted to his touch. “Babe, you never have to miss me again. But I swear—if you ever put yourself in danger like this again—”
“You’ll what? Spank me?” The smile on her face and the lack of starch in her spine told him she wouldn’t mind a spanking. Good lord. She was going to give him a heart attack. His hands tightened on her flanks.
“You’ll stay safe. You have to.”
She slipped her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer. Her fingers grazed the bump at the back of his head. He let her. “How hard is that going to be?”
“With all this shit going on? I don’t know. But I will do anything to make sure you’re safe. I would die for you.”
She dropped her head onto his shoulder. “I certainly hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“I don’t either, but I’ve got to get rid of the Diablos for good.”
She looked up at him. “Are you sure that’s the best idea? Maybe we should stay out of it.”
He brushed his lips against the bruise on her cheek. “Too late for that now”
She buried her face in his neck and nipped and bit as if she was trying to remember him with her mouth. If she kept that up, they weren’t going to finish this conversation. Maybe that was a good thing. In that moment, he needed to be inside of his woman more than he needed to work everything out. He would keep doing what he’d always done: watch out for his friends and neighbors and love the woman in front of him.
He had always loved her. He wanted to make a life with her. He needed her to stay with him.
She kissed a trail on his collar bone.
“You work things out with Michael?”
“You want to talk about him right now?” She raised her head to look him in the eye again. “But, yes. We’ll get through it. Especially now that I made enough on my Burgundy to buy him out. Can we get back to what we were doing before you mentioned my errant best friend?”
He didn’t think he could fit any more stuff inside his heart, but pride that she’d taken care of her business wound its way in with all the love and the relief that she was safe. “What was that? I think I need you to remind me.”
She kissed him full on the mouth then. Her tongue explored the seam of his lips slowly. He barely held himself back from taking over the kiss. She needed this, and he was committed to giving her what she needed—for the rest of his life.
Skyler’s grip on his hair tightened and she angled it back at the same time she levered herself up off his lap. The sudden release of the pressure from her ass on his cock had him thrusting his hips to get closer. He wanted her naked. Right now.
She bit at his lower lip and moaned. When she pulled back to take a breath, he asked, “You want to do this here? When Gabe could walk back in at any moment?”
She shot up and pushed a chair under the doorknob. “He’s the one who doesn’t want us to leave yet. And after what we saw him doing the other night, maybe he deserves to get a look at my fine ass.”
Travis got up and walked—nay, hobbled because of his hard-on—to Skyler.
She leaned back against the wall, and he kept her there with his body. It was his turn to get reacquainted with the taste and feel of her; thinking of her while getting himself off during their time apart hadn’t touched the lust he felt when she was in the room. The other girls that had tried to get his attention at club parties hadn’t come close.
“You’re mine, Sky. This is for real, yeah?” Her back arched when he pulled at the bottom of her T-shirt. “Say it.”
He pulled the top over her head and didn’t let her get the words out before claiming her mouth like he’d been wanting to for the last fifteen minutes. The playtime and teasing were over.
“I’m yours,” she murmured against his lips.
He grabbed her ass and boosted her up until she wrapped her legs around his hips. She ground her body against him as he moved them over to the exam table.
Sky unbuttoned his shirt hastily, while he unhooked her bra. Once he pulled it off her arms, he palmed her breasts and sighed with relief. She looked up at him, so soft and sweet—lust-drunk. She’d stripped off his shirt and her fingers toyed with his belt.
&nb
sp; “Can I have it?”
He flicked her nipples and she started. “Take what you need, babe.”
She undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. They were loose enough that they came down on their own. He pulled down his boxer briefs and freed his cock, which was hard as a pike and straining toward its home.
She pushed herself up and had her own pants hanging off one ankle in a flash. He stroked his hand down her naked, flushed chest, traced her freckles with his index finger. She bit her bottom lip and scooted closer to him.
She cupped his cock in her hand and stroked her thumb over the head, which wept for her. The exam table was the perfect height for him to slide right in her, but he let her play for a minute. Soon, her eager fingers were too much for him and he grabbed her wrist. She thrust her hips toward him.
He pulled out to grab a condom, but she grabbed his hips to stop him. “Just us.”
“There hasn’t been anyone else, but you sure?” He wanted nothing more than to feel just her, but he wouldn’t do that until she was sure it would be just them for the long haul.
She nodded.
“Rub your clit, Sky.” He slid all the way home. And she moaned. He took several short thrusts. “Rub. Your. Clit.”
When she still didn’t follow his order, her hands clenched on the edge of the table, he grabbed her wrist again and shoved her hand between them. She looked up at him, questioning.
“I’m not going to last like this.” His voice came out as a plaintive pant. “Need you to come first.”
Then, she followed instructions. He grabbed her hips and pulled her closer and he could feel her frantic movements on the top of his cock. They became more desperate and less rhythmic simultaneously. When he started to feel her clench around him, right before she melted into lava around his dick, he was about to start reciting the melting temperature of different metals in his head.
He came with a guttural yell, feeling his seed shoot inside her, become part of her.
“Just us.” His body rested against her. “Always just us.”
Skyler felt deliciously languid, her sweat-slicked body sticking to her love. Feeling him come inside her again was so powerful she lacked the words. She pressed her lips against his shoulder.
Biker B*tch Page 23