A stir went through the room, just more creaks of leather and more clearing of throats. Everyone was waiting. Waiting for what their prez had to say.
Finally Kill spoke. “I’m in agreement. Nothing good can come from leaving Marcello alive. If we move now and put the fucker down, we’ll be in a better position than we ever have been.” He leveled a glare at Drake. A warning stare dark enough to make a grown man piss their pants. “This club has never had a partner before. That’s not what you are. You’re a business associate. This agreement works well for us. Both of us. Cross us and you’ll find out the hard way what happens when you make bad decisions.” He paused. “You gonna make bad decisions, Cannelli?”
Drake shook his head. He smiled, a perfectly white, even, pearly grin. Fucker probably had braces as a kid. “Not planning on it. I much prefer to keep my friends alive. I find that it’s much better for the health.”
Kill nodded slowly. “Much better for your health,” he agreed. His tone was light, but there was no mistaking the deadly threat in his tone. He surveyed the room. “Anyone in dissent? We take out Marcello, expand our territory? We keep it that way after. We put anyone down who rises against us. End of fucking story.”
The room remained dead silent. Shawn was glad he’d backed himself in the corner. His knees felt oddly weak and he was thankful the wall was there to hold himself up. His head spun and his chest felt like someone just dropped a car on top of him. It all sounded too easy. The violence. The blood. The upcoming fucking war.
The room remained silent. Kill’s shit-kickers scraped loudly across the floor as he walked across the room. He stopped right in front of Cannelli. All the oxygen in the room sucked right out when he extended his hand.
Drake didn’t hesitate to grasp it.
It was the first handshake ever offered in the club that Shawn had ever seen. Probably the first handshake there period.
And just like that, wars were started.
Chapter 12
KAYLA
Kayla told herself she wasn’t happy to see Shawn. The cramping in her stomach, the strange lightness in her chest and the random skyrocket in her pulse weren’t happiness. They weren’t anything but indicators of relief that after four hours being locked in some tiny little room that had only a bare twin sized mattress that was about as welcoming as the last bed she’d tried to sleep on, no windows, and nothing to do, even Shawn was better than being kept in solitary confinement.
“Is my father here?” Kayla couldn’t help rush the door. She stopped a foot short of Shawn, who closed it firmly behind him. She was tired and sore from tossing and turning on the hard mattress. Her hair was a tangled mess, her clothes were rumpled, and she felt like she badly needed a shower. Her nerves were as raw and frayed as the rest of her.
He slowly shook his head. “Drake Cannelli came here alone. I’m assuming your dad is still holed up at his place. Don’t worry though. The Cannelli house is like a fortress. No one’s going to get killed unless it happens from the inside out.” His lips arched up in a smile, like he was laughing at some sick private joke.
He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin and something shivery and fluttery started up in Kayla’s stomach. She purposely ignored it. She wasn’t attracted to Shawn. Not at all. Her body was in some kind of state of shock. She was thankful to be alive. That’s all it was. She was at her lowest point and in her moment of weakness she let herself do the unthinkable.
It was like what people said about sex after a funeral. She just wanted to forget and feel alive, or some fucked up version of that scenario.
“I- I’m not going to stay here,” she said boldly. She’d had a few hours to think about it and to rehearse her little speech in her head. It definitely sounded better, bolder, firmer, rattling around in her brain.
Shawn’s eyes narrowed. “You are going to stay here. End of story. You have nowhere else to go.”
“I-”
“We’ve been over this already. Until Marcello is taken care of, you have to stay where we can keep you safe.”
“You’re not my keeper or my guardian. I’m a free person. I can come and go as I choose. If this Marcello guy is busy with his own problems, he and his men probably don’t have time to worry about me.”
“It’s the probably in that statement that should make you worried.” Shawn crossed his arms and his leather jacket creaked and rustled with the movement. He hadn’t changed from the night before. He still had on the same jeans and t-shirt, but the leather jacket was a new addition. She looked for patches on the front or the sleeves, but saw nothing at all. It must be on the back. People in clubs and gangs always wore their patch on their back, didn’t they?
Kayla breathed in hard, which was a mistake. The scent of leather and spicy soap assailed her. She opened her mouth to protest, but slammed it shut when she saw how tired Shawn looked.
“Look.” He ran a hand over his short cropped hair.
The movement set in motion the whole ripple effect, except that it was Shawn’s muscle moving. Her body stiffened and her nipples hardened in response. Shawn was big. He towered over her. Even tired, coming in peace, he was still intimidating as hell. And I know what he looks like under those clothes. Her heart fluttered strangely and there was an unmistakable tingle tracing its way from her nipples down to her belly, lower, spreading and warming between her thighs.
“I didn’t ask for this assignment any more than you asked to be put in harm’s way. All we can do is try and make the best of it.”
“Says the eternal optimist,” Kayla snapped, because she was tired. Because she was at wit’s end. Because she’d been shot at the night before, taken to some disgusting little hovel and had just been locked away in a biker gang’s clubhouse for hours on end, while they did god knew what, and she had no say in anything that was happening to her. And because she didn’t like her body’s reaction to Shawn, a man who was basically her jailer, a man who had probably done unspeakable things, one single bit.
“I’m no optimist,” Shawn snorted. His eyes darkened dangerously. “You know where we’re at. You know that it’s my job to keep you safe.”
“And locking me in a room is supposed to keep me that way?”
“If you stay here, nothing is going to happen to you.”
“Until the next threat comes along.”
“That’s your father’s business, not mine. You’re going to have to take that up with him. He can get you a real body guard or maybe you can move, change your name or something.” Shawn let out an exasperated sigh, like she was a petulant four year old who couldn’t see reason. It drove her nuts that he could look at her like she was nothing but a nuisance, especially after what they’d almost done.
Of course it wouldn’t mean anything to a guy like him. Even though it shouldn’t have meant anything to her either, it fanned the flames of exhausted, sleep-deprived, emotionally charged outrage building in her chest.
“I want to see my dad now,” Kayla snapped. “You’re going to take me to him. If it’s your job to keep me alive, then keep me alive. Take me there and make sure nothing happens to me. I want to talk to him now.”
“Sorry, princess, you’re going to have to wait a day, at least. I can’t tell you what’s going on, but I can tell you that nothing is happening today, so you might as well curl into a ball on that bed and get some sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up a little more grateful to us for keeping you alive, instead of being angry, irritated and bitchy about all of this.”
“B-bitchy?” Kayla stammered. “Are you calling me bitchy?”
“That’s generally the term used for someone acting like a bitch. Unless I have my grammar wrong. Could be. I was always shit at school, but in this case, I don’t think so.”
“Take that back,” Kayla fumed. “I’m not being a bitch! I just want to see my dad, so that I can ask him what the hell is going on. I want to hear it from him. I want- I- I just don’t want to stay in this tiny little room. It’s worse than a cell. That bed is har
d as a rock and there isn’t even a blanket. Even if I didn’t have all of this to worry about, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. In the past twenty-four hours, my entire life has been turned upside down. I don’t think you have the right to call me bitchy.”
“How’s twatty then? Cunty? That better?”
Shawn leaned in and Kayla swore that the tips of his ears were red. Red crept up his neck. Despite his mocking tone, she could tell she’d pissed him off. She was so over trying to express gratitude for him and his gang of criminals.
“I want you to let me leave,” she demanded. “I’m not a convict and I’m not someone you kidnapped. You can’t hold me against my will. I want to talk to your president or leader or whatever he’s called. I want to tell him you’re an asshole and that I’m done. That you took advantage of me on top of it all. I’ve made my choice to leave. The consequences can be on my head.”
“You won’t have a head if you walk out that door,” Shawn hissed. He leaned in and Kayla smelled leather and soap again. She took a halting step back, but Shawn kept on coming. He backed her right against the bed and she had to stop, or she’d fall on top of it. “And if you think for a second that Kill cares about what I have or haven’t done with you, think again. You want to walk out that door?” he pointed behind him. “Be my fucking guest.”
Shawn’s chest and shoulders heaved up and down. His eyes flashed fire and his lips thinned out into a hard line as his jaw clenched. It was obvious that she’d struck a raw chord.
“I…” Kayla trailed off. She wished she could move back.
She wished that Shawn’s body heat wasn’t flooding off him in waves and that he didn’t smell so good and that the tingling between her thighs wasn’t turning into a full-on roar. What the hell is wrong with me? The fact that he was pissed off as hell shouldn’t be a turn on. Her mind shouldn’t be whirling, thinking about what it would be like to have rough, angry sex with him. How good it would feel… she shouldn’t be thinking about his kiss, about how she’d truly come alive for the first time ever. She shouldn’t be thinking about how close he was and letting that override everything, including her common sense.
“You what?” Shawn took one more step and she had to part her legs to give him room or she’d be on the mattress, flat on her back.
“I…” Where were her words when she needed them the most? Oh right. The heat flooding her chest, Shawn’s breath on her cheek, and the hardness pressing through his jeans right into her thigh stole them completely.
It was terrifying and thrilling having him so close. Just like before, everything faded away. She wasn’t able to save herself any more than she’d been able to help herself the night before.
When he reached out and shockingly tucked a strand of her snarled, uncombed hair behind her ear, Kayla froze. Not that she’d been moving, but her breath stopped. Everything stopped. Time fucking stopped. It was like the night before, when she’d been with Shawn and everything else, all her worry, her pain, her grief, the horrible situation she’d found herself in, all of it just vanished.
She felt like she was floating, floating and throbbing and trapped in her body, feeling things that she had no right to feel.
Shawn’s eyes met hers. She couldn’t blink. She couldn’t look away. He held her completely captivated. “Fuck it,” he muttered, right before his hand cupped her jaw while the other snaked around her waist. He slammed her up against him. “This time tomorrow I could be dead. We go to war tonight. If you still want to forget, I’ll take you there.”
It wasn’t just her heart beating out a violent plea. The ache between her legs threatened to undo her completely. Kayla tilted her face up in response. She didn’t have to say anything. The air snapped between them, sizzling with electricity and the horrible, unspoken need, and there was no need for language.
Shawn angled his head down until his short beard rasped against her jaw. When he kissed her, it was infinitely gentle, soft and sweet. It wasn’t anything like she expected. He took his time, slow and thorough and scalding hot in his exploration.
Kayla had never been bold in her life. She really was a lights-off, shy, vanilla kind of person. At least she had been. She was shocked that the sound in the room, a low desperate whimper, was torn from her throat. She was the one who moved, who wrapped her arms around Shawn’s neck and slammed her body up against his. She was the one who changed the kiss from gentle to hungry and demanding.
When Shawn fisted her hair in his hands and growled low in his throat, it was her hands frantically exploring, edging his leather jacket off and tugging at his t-shirt. It was her hands on his warm, hard muscle and velvet soft skin, skimming down the chiseled ridges of his chest and stomach, skimming the crisp hairs that trailed lower, fumbling with the button on his jeans. It was her body, grinding into the hardness of his cock, trying desperately to find relief right through their clothes.
It was wrong. God, yes, it was all fucked up, yet it needed to happen. She needed it. More than anything she’d ever needed before.
Chapter 13
SHAWN
He could still taste Kayla from a few hours ago, when they’d been interrupted. He could still hear the echo of her moans of pleasure, her whimpers filling up his ears and drowning out his common sense. God, he was so primed, so ready, aching, for her, that it was amazing he didn’t explode in his fucking pants.
Through some force of herculean willpower that he didn’t know he even possessed, he managed to slam the brakes on. He captured both her hands in one of his. Still, the most ridiculous words tumbled out. “Are you sure?” he rasped. “This isn’t like last night. This isn’t us doing this after some nightmare. It’s not something you can just use to wash the bad away. The bad is still coming and this is- well- this isn’t going to make either of us forget that.”
Kayla looked up at him, huge eyes dark and pleading. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I’m sure. It isn’t about that anymore.”
If he had a better pair of stones, he would have manned up and asked her what it was about then, but he had a feeling he didn’t really want her to spell it out. Something about her was different. Kayla wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever been with. Obviously. It wasn’t just her background or where she came from or where she was going that made her different.
It was the way she cut right through him, right down to those soft fucking spots he didn’t want to admit he had. Right to the heart that he wasn’t quite sure was still in there. She made him wish that he could be… well… better, or some sappy shit like that.
And because she’d hit him right in an impossibly vulnerable spot, and maybe he was ready for it to happen eventually because he was at some low ass point in his life, or maybe she was just… just- god, he didn’t even have a word for what she was- but he didn’t want to just strip her naked and fuck her and forget her.
He actually wanted it to mean something.
Which, in over three decades of life, was a damn first.
Kayla tugged her hands away and there they were, tearing the button free on his jeans, pushing at them insistently. A little whimper tore from her throat, igniting the fire in his blood. It was pretty damn hot that she wanted this as bad as he did.
He claimed her lips as he worked his hands under her shirt. His instincts took over, the raging need ripping through him. God, it didn’t feel like he’d waited a few hours for this. It felt like he’d waited years.
Kayla arched into him as he tugged her shirt off. He was damn lucky that his brothers in the clubhouse were busy getting ready to go to war with Marcello. The last thing they had to worry about was where their prospect had gone for a few hours. Kayla was safe there, so she was all but forgotten. It meant that even though the door didn’t have a lock on the inside, there was a slim chance that not a single person was going to interrupt them.
“Shawn,” Kayla rasped as he unclasped her bra. She thrust her breast into his palm and moaned when he ran his calloused finger over the tight dark bud.
She wasn’t as innocent as she looked because at the same time he palmed her breast, she dropped her hand down to his jeans, which were part way undone, and gripped his cock. He let out a hiss of pleasure between his teeth.
“I want these off,” Kayla ground out.
That makes two of us.
He shifted away long enough to tear his jeans and boxers off. Kayla let out a gasp as he pushed her back and ripped hers off just as fast. She wasn’t wearing panties and that nearly made him come right there. He couldn’t remember if he’d ripped them off of her at the house. There was a good chance they hadn’t been salvageable.
His heart nearly pounded out of his chest when Kayla squirmed up on the bed, making room for him. She spread those shapely perfect legs, giving him a full view of her pussy. She was already swollen, coated with delicious beads of slick, silky wetness. Just for him. She was fucking soaked for him.
His cock kicked hard and he had to grind his teeth to keep it together. His balls were practically choking him and all he wanted to do was grab Kayla and plunge into that tight wet heat. He knew she’d be tight. She’d be so fucking tight that she’d strangle him. God, he’d probably just get inside of her and he’d be done.
Which was just crazy. All of it. He’d never, ever, not even as a teenager, actually contemplated nutting after one single thrust.
If he even got that far.
Shawn tried to take a deep, steadying breath, but it came out more like a rapid gasping rush of air that sounded completely off.
Kayla’s eyes flew open at him. Her lips parted, like she wanted to ask him what the hell he was waiting for. His heart pounded so hard it was probably audible. He wasn’t going to waste another second. He was running low on seconds.
It might have been vanilla as hell to spread himself over Kayla, on top of her, but he had anything but vanilla in mind. She arched up into him, pushing those sweet curvy hips upwards, searching, whimpering, trying to ease the burn. He wasn’t going to let her have her relief so easily. Even though he wanted nothing more than to plunge inside of her and fuck her until they were both senseless and worn out, he wasn’t going to give himself the pleasure. He wanted to make her come first. He wanted to watch her come apart.
Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series Page 84