by Zoey Parker
My poor parents, I thought. When Bertrand hired me, I'd written in my mother as my emergency contact on the employment forms. Now that I'd been missing from work for two days, I knew that Mom and Dad must have been going out of their minds with worry. For what must have been the thousandth time, I hoped this would all be over soon so they wouldn't have to be scared much longer.
I knew I should have been more frightened for my own well-being, especially now that I'd watched Rafe get beaten up and shot. For most people, I figured that seeing the tough biker who's supposed to protect them get seriously injured would be enough to make them lose all hope.
But strangely, deep in my core, I still felt like staying with him was the only way to make sure I'd be safe. Even though he had a head injury and a bullet wound, when I looked into his eyes, I still saw the kind of steel, intensity, and determination that made me believe it would take far more than that to put him down. I knew he'd see this through no matter what, and that he'd do whatever it took to make sure I survived in the process.
Maybe that kind of belief was foolish. Maybe I was ignoring this evidence of his vulnerability because I simply didn't want to accept it. Maybe Jester was just too powerful and Rafe would end up dying in a hail of bullets with me next to him.
There was something else, though. Even though I still believed Rafe would be the one to get us through this alive, I knew that he didn't have to do it alone anymore. I could drive. I could shoot. Instead of feeling like some damsel being dragged along by powers outside my control, I felt like Rafe and I were a team. That helped a lot.
I waited in the kitchen while Rafe finished his call, since I knew how hard it must be for him to beg his friend for help and I didn't want him to feel more embarrassed. Once he hung up, I dragged the bucket into the living room.
“Time to freshen up your bandages,” I said. “Did you get what you needed from your friend?”
“I hope so,” Rafe said. “Too soon to tell.”
I kneeled beside Rafe and carefully removed the strips of cloth from his arm. As I did, I felt him tremble a bit. At first, I thought he was in pain and trying to hide it from me, so I ignored it. Then I realized he was laughing.
“Did I miss something funny?” I asked, washing the cloth strips in the bucket and wringing the blood out of them. “Or is your head more injured than I thought?”
“No, it's just...” Rafe laughed out loud this time. “You must think I'm a real asshole, right? All that hard-ass, chest-thumping bullshit I laid on you in the car earlier. 'Oh, I survived prison and knives and guns and, like, a zillion assassination attempts, and I don't have a mark on me and I never will!'
“I was really begging for this shit, wasn't I? Christ, I'm surprised an anvil didn't drop out of the sky and onto my head just to make a point.” Even though he was laughing, I could hear the bitterness in his voice.
“Don't be so hard on yourself,” I said. I wrapped the newly-soaked bandages over his bullet wound carefully, making sure they weren't too tight. “You were just trying to get my head in the game with that stuff. It was what I needed to hear. And besides, if you'd actually managed to go this long without getting hurt at all, I'd have to start wondering if you were some kind of robot or superhero or something.”
Rafe let out a short hiss of pain as the wet cloth made direct contact with the holes in his arm. “Well, I'm damn sure not a superhero,” he said. “And I guess you probably know I'm not a robot after what happened between us last night.”
He hadn't brought that up since this morning, and with everything that had happened, I was surprised that he'd chosen to say anything about it now. I kept my eyes lowered, but I could feel him looking at me and I started to blush.
“Not necessarily,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You could just be a really well-built...I mean, well-made robot who's programmed to fool humans. After all, the lights were off. For all I know, that could have been motor oil on my hands.”
Rafe's rough palm cradled the side of my face, turning it so that my eyes met his. My face and neck blushed even hotter. I could feel my heart pattering inside my chest like a hamster on a wheel.
“There's plenty of light now, though,” Rafe said quietly.
It was true. Rays of pale sunlight slanted in from the windows, illuminating everything, especially the lust that waited for me in his eyes. I felt a pleasant warmth spreading between my thighs, and goosebumps rising on my arms and breasts. I reached up and placed one of my trembling hands over his without moving it.
“So...should we talk about last night, then?” I asked. There was no disguising the shaking in my voice now.
“Did you like it?” Rafe replied. His thumb was caressing the side of my neck.
I nodded.
“Do you want more?” he prodded. His thumb kept moving, lightly tracing a line down to my collarbone.
I nodded again.
“Then what else is there to talk about?” Rafe asked.
He leaned forward and kissed my lips. His confident tongue pushed past them, stroking my own. I felt myself surrender to his hand, letting him pull me closer against his body. My hardened nipples pressed against his chest, throbbing almost painfully with desire.
My heart felt like a handful of balloons that had been released and were blowing away in every direction. I knew we shouldn't be wrapping ourselves more tightly in whatever this was without figuring out what it meant first.
I knew that with everything we'd been through together, we probably weren't thinking clearly and our emotions may have been confused. I knew that I could be inviting a world of heartbreak if we got closer now and then he left me when all this was over—or worse, if something terrible happened to him. I knew that even if none of that happened and we somehow ended up together at the end of it all, he'd still be a biker living in a dangerous world that I didn't belong in.
But more than any of that, I knew that nothing could possibly matter when compared to my desire for him. It burned and exploded inside of me, massive and all-consuming like a sun. It would not be denied, not for a thousand reasons.
I pulled back long enough to reach up and pull my t-shirt over my head, then pulled my bra off. His hand cupped one of my breasts, stroking it as he kissed me again. I longed for his other hand, then remembered that it was still keeping him upright.
“Lie back,” I whispered.
“But I want you,” Rafe growled, planting passionate kisses down the side of my neck.
“You'll have me, but you should be lying down,” I said. I put a palm on his chest and gently pushed him backward until he'd eased into a prone position. “You just relax and tell me what you want from me. Whatever it is, I'll do it.”
A wicked smile played across Rafe's lips. “Okay,” he said. “I want to see your body. Take your pants off.”
I kicked off my shoes and leaned back, preparing to peel my leggings and panties off quickly. Before I could, Rafe raised a hand to stop me. “No. Stand up. I want you to take them off slowly for me.”
My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't expected the sudden edge in his voice—I had expected him to ask me, not command me. But the hairs were standing up on the back of my neck, and I realized that I liked his command.
I nodded and slowly pulled myself to my feet, moving my hips in a way that I hoped was seductive. I hooked my thumbs into my waistband and panties and gyrated, sliding them down until it barely brushed my pubic hair. I teased him with the briefest glimpse of the curly, dark patch, then slid it back up to my waist again, raising an eyebrow at him playfully. “Like that?”
Rafe nodded, licking his lips.
I smiled and turned around, giving my hair a toss so I could look at him over my shoulder. As I did, I slid my thumbs around the waistband to the small of my back and eased them down over my buttocks. I could see the bulge in the crotch of his pants growing larger and more insistent as it pushed against his zipper.
I teased him again with a quick peek at my bare bottom, then sw
iveled my hips some more as I finally slid the leggings and panties all the way down to my ankles. I used my toes to pull them the rest of the way off and kicked them into the dusty corner, but before I could turn back around, Rafe spoke again.
“Bend down and touch your toes,” he said.
I bent over slowly and did as he said, inwardly grateful for the flexibility and balance that had been instilled in me by my childhood ballet classes. I peered back at him through my own legs.
“Now reach behind you and touch your pussy for me,” Rafe ordered.
The blush on my face was burning hotly now. No one had ever talked to me like that before, and I'd certainly never touched myself like that for someone else. But when I reached back and slid my middle finger up the lips of my pussy, I wasn't surprised to feel how slick with moisture they were. I had never felt so naughty in my life, or so turned on.
“Put two fingers in your pussy,” Rafe said. “Give me a fucking show, sweetheart. Show me how you turn yourself on when you're alone.”
I pushed gently and felt my middle and ring fingers slide inside myself effortlessly. The contours inside my pussy were engorged, and just pressing them lightly with my fingertips made my ears start to ring. My breath quivered at the back of my throat. I was starting to get light-headed from being bent over for so long and my pulse was thudding against my temples.
“Now stand up and come over here,” Rafe said.
I stood up, catching my breath. Slowly, I turned around and walked over to him, standing over him.
“Bend down and put your fingers in my mouth,” he said. “I want to fucking taste you.”
I lowered myself to my knees and moved forward, extending my fingertips toward his lips. He moved his head forward and I snatched my hand back playfully, smiling. But Rafe's hand moved faster as it whipped forward, seizing my wrist and pulling my fingers into his mouth.
Even injured, the strength that crackled through his body like electricity was incredible. I knew I couldn't have pulled away even if I'd wanted to.
When Rafe was finished with my hand, he released it, letting it drop. “Good,” he sighed with enjoyment. “Now I want you to taste me.”
My hand slid up his thigh to his crotch, and I undid the button of his pants, pulling the zipper down slow enough for him to hear every individual metal tooth pull apart from its counterpart. His cock rose from his open fly eagerly, quivering gently.
I parted my lips, licked them, and lowered my head into his lap. I slid my mouth over his hot and pulsing cock, bringing my lips as far down his shaft as I could. He let out a small gasp of pleasure, resting his hand at the nape of my neck and stroking it insistently.
“Oh, God, yes,” he breathed. “Suck my fucking cock, Jewel, you sweet, beautiful bitch. Suck it hard.”
I moaned and moved my head back and forth, letting his tip gently prod the back of my throat with each thrust. His hand tightened, grabbing a lock of hair with it. The pain blurred into the pleasure perfectly and I sucked him harder, feeling him grow even larger against my tongue.
No one had ever called me a bitch before and I'd never wanted them to, but coming from him, I loved it. I wanted to be his bitch tonight, his toy, his willing slave.
As I pulled back for another thrust, I wrapped one hand around his base, kneading it in rhythm with the motion of my head.
After a few more thrusts, he arched his back, pulling my head away and looking into my eyes again. “Take my pants off and get on top of me.”
I grabbed the belt loops on his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, still staring at the monolith of his waiting cock.
When the pants were off, I straddled him carefully, feeling his tip brushing against my pussy lips. I lowered myself until the tip pressed harder, just about to slide in—and then I lifted my hips again teasingly, smiling at him. I wanted him to do what he'd done with my fingers, grabbing me and pulling me, forcing my body to bend to his demands.
Instead his iron-hard eyes stared into mine, even more forceful and commanding than his hands had been. “Give yourself to me, Jewel,” he whispered hoarsely. “Fuck me now. Fuck me hard.”
I couldn't resist him anymore. I lowered myself onto his cock hungrily, feeling him slide all the way into the core of my body. He pushed himself up inside of me with the relentless force of a runaway train, barreling into my pussy deeper than anyone ever had. With each thrust, he seemed to go farther. His shaft rubbed hard against my clit and his tip pressed against my cervix with every push. I placed my hands on his chest, running them through the hair there.
I gasped with each movement of his hips, feeling like a flock of joyful doves were fluttering through my entire body. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted to spin and soar on this euphoria forever.
Rafe kept going, pumping and pumping as he reached up to grab the back of my neck again. He pulled me down on top of him until we were face to face, his other arm wrapping around my back and holding me as tightly as it could.
“Come for me, Jewel,” he breathed, kissing my lips. “Come for me now, you fucking gorgeous girl. Give me everything you've got.”
I pushed myself down on him as hard as I could. His cock pressed against the back wall of my pussy so firmly that for a crazy moment, I thought he'd somehow find a way to push past and go even deeper until he was making hard, dirty, desperate love to my soul.
I climaxed in a hot wave just as I felt him gush inside of me, our orgasms mingling in a single tidal crest that felt like it would carry us both away. We both cried out together, our moans overlapping.
We stayed like that for a long time afterward—me on top of him, with his cock inside of me and his arms around me. It felt like we should say something to each other, but there were no words. There was only the steady warmth of his breath tickling my neck and his fingertips tracing patterns over my bare skin until we both surrendered to sleep.
Chapter 30
Rafe
The sun had set and the house was dark. Jewel and I were both dozing happily until a bright white light swept through the windows, filling the room. We both woke up, squinting and putting our hands up against the blinding glare.
“Headlights,” Jewel said. I could hear the fear in her voice.
I felt a cold jolt of panic, thinking Jester's guys had found us somehow. With my arm in bad shape and my head still spinning from the concussion, I knew I'd have no chance against a car full of armed gangsters, even with Jewel and her gun at my side.
I felt something inside me shrivel into a blackened husk, knowing that we'd survived so much over the past few days only to die out here in the middle of nowhere. The despair and the injustice of it all felt like a crushing weight on my chest.
“Get ready to run,” I whispered to Jewel, reaching for my gun. “Go out the back and try to cut across the field to the woods back there. I'll try to hold them off and buy you some time.” I quickly pulled my pants on.
Jewel yanked her t-shirt on and pulled her up leggings. Then she reached for her .22, thumbing the safety off. “I'm not leaving you,” she replied. Her voice may have been trembling, but her eyes were clear and focused.
“Don't be stupid,” I said. “I'm not worth dying for. This is your only chance to get out of this alive, so take it and go find a safe place to call the cops. Tell them I threatened you and made you come with me, and they won't charge you with anything. You'll be fine.”
“But you said the cops were in on it,” Jewel answered. She was already creeping up to the window with her gun at the ready, trying to see who it was while staying out of sight. I had to hand it to her. She was pretty goddamn brave.
I just didn't want to see her die for it.
I heard the car's engine cut off outside, and the sound of one of its doors creaking open.
“Forget what I said,” I insisted. “Listen to what I'm saying now, okay? Take the gun, go out the back, and run like hell until...”
“Wait a minute,” Jewel said.
“You don't have a fucking minute! Now go!” I hissed urgently.
Jewel peered out the window for a long moment, then turned to me with a smile. “You did say your club's name was the War Reapers, right? Because it looks like the cavalry just rode to our rescue.”
I sighed with relief as the car door outside slammed shut. A moment later, I heard Boomer's voice call out. “Yo, Rafe! You in there, or what?”
“Boomer?” Jewel asked me.
“The one and only,” I answered. Slowly, I pulled myself off the floor, trying to ignore the persistent ringing in my ears. I walked to the front door and opened it, stepping outside. Jewel followed me.
Boomer stood next to a battered old Lincoln Town Car from the '80s. He was wearing his Reapers cut. He had a first aid kit in one hand and a small laptop under his other arm. He also had an uncomfortable expression on his face, and he was nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.