Ruled

by Anne Marsh

  “Pretty sure that was someone making a point. I think we should head back,” I say slowly. Don’t want to scare her more, but we’re not in a great position here. I text my president because he needs to know what’s up. Hawke promises to send some brothers to check out Evie’s place. Good. No point in riding into an ambush. I fire off a couple more texts while I’m at it, because you can never have too much security.

  “What did Rocker get himself into?”

  We’ve gone over this once before, but she wasn’t ready to listen. Now, she is. That’s the power of show-and-tell for you, ladies and gentlemen.

  “Bad shit.” I shrug. “Moving product isn’t the safest thing, but there are better and worse ways to do it. He’s definitely picked the worse way.”

  Too blunt? Too bad. Lying gets people killed and she deserves the truth.

  “There’s no way for you to get him out of this?” She stares at me as if I’m some kind of superhero, and for her, I’d like to be.

  “Not sure,” I admit. “Gonna find out for you, okay? Just give me a little time, Evie.”

  “He might die,” she says way too softly.

  Not much I can say, because it’s the truth. Her brother has a goddamned death wish.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eve

  I’VE NEVER LIKED a side of danger with my sex. But by the time Rev and I reach my house, the fear has become something else. Getting shot at tops no foreplay list I’ve read, but I’m turned on. Or maybe it’s my safety-seeking instinct, my hormones certain that hooking up with the man mountain in front of me would be wise in light of my Colombian situation. Or maybe I’m just looking for excuses.

  Rev moves fast for such a big man. He has me off the bike, up the sidewalk and at the door before I can say anything. When I unlock it, he’s so close that my butt brushes his front.

  “I’m gonna come by and install a security system tomorrow,” he tells me. “Should have done it before, but didn’t want to freak you out. I’ve got a couple of prospects watching over you, too, and I’ve texted Rocker so he knows there’s a problem.”

  “Rev?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up.” I tug him inside.

  Grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter, I head for the fireplace. I don’t give a shit it’s summer. I turn on the gas low, letting the flames lick up the logs. When Rev turns away from the door, the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans is a visual reminder that he’s a biker and not a nice guy.

  “Is being in the club always like that?”

  He gives me a hard look. “Got to admit, today’s not been a winner.”

  “Help me fix that?” Yes. I’m breaking all my rules. I take a long drink from the bottle and set it down on the floor. Lay down on my stomach watching the flames flicker on the ceramic logs in the fireplace.

  “No do-overs in life, princess.” I wouldn’t take the option anyhow. My choices have led me straight here to him and losing him isn’t something I can imagine right now. He’s the best kind of all wrong. So when he drops onto the rug beside me, stretching his legs out? Screw it. Tonight, I’m all in. All about living and feeling, make-believing everything’s going to be a-okay.

  I roll over, straddling his legs as I reach for his belt. I pause for a brief second to appreciate the impressive bulge and then, fingers flying, I undo the buckle. His buttons pop, one after another. The dark cotton of his boxer briefs is the tissue paper inside the box of the best Christmas present ever. God, the man’s built. I skim my hands up the outline of his dick to where the tip juts above the edge of his boxers. He makes me feel so much.

  He grabs the bottle and steals a swallow of wine. “This really what you want, babe?”

  I want him so much that I have no words.

  “Less talking, more doing,” I whisper and pull his jeans down his body. Seconds later his boots are off, followed by his shirt. I told Rev to take things slow because I needed to make sure sex with him was the right thing to do, but getting shot at changes everything. Rev feels good, neither of us is dead, and those are the only priorities that matter. Foreplay and patience aren’t necessary because I just want him in me now. Plus, his dick’s a work of art. He jerks when I run a finger up his thick erection. Time to make shit perfectly clear.

  “That’s mine,” I tell him.

  “You think?” He sounds amused.

  “Possession’s nine-tenths of the law.” Leaning forward, I suck him into my mouth.

  “Jesus Christ.” He falls back on his elbows, big hands tangling in my hair. His dick goes from zero to sixty, the thick head pushing at the back of my throat. I relax and take him deeper, savoring his harsh groan.

  Right now, he’s all mine.

  Rev

  Evie sucks me like a pro, making me the luckiest fucking man alive. When she said she wasn’t putting out until we had a relationship going, I agreed to respect her boundaries. Not sure how that translated into a blowjob, but when her lips close around my dick, my hips shoot off the floor.

  So much for slow. I’m about to come in her mouth and that’s way too fast for both of us. I’ve had women go down on me, but this is different. This is the best.

  This is my Evie.

  She sucks harder, lips moving up and down my dick like I’m her favorite flavor and my balls tighten. Fuck, she’s good. The best kind of dirty bad. I’m supposed to make sure of her because she’s the club’s ace in the hole, but how do I turn down this? I fist her hair, guiding her deeper and lower. Makes me even more of a bastard—I know that.

  I tug her face away from my dick when we get way too close to the point of no return. “You want to do this? No more waiting?”

  Her face turns pink and not from the fire. She bites her lip, momentarily uncertain, then her face turns fierce. “Yes.”

  Green fucking light.

  I roll her onto her back, desperate to get her naked. Her clothes go flying. Shirt, jeans, bra, panties. Thank Christ she lost her shoes somewhere between the front door and the fire, because otherwise I’d be slamming into her half-dressed.

  Not gonna lie—eating Evie out is my all-time favorite. Who knew ten minutes could be a fucking lifetime highlight? I stretch my time, licking and teasing, plumping her tits in my hand and pinching the nipples when I stop playing and let go. I’m supposed to give it to her slow, but I always ride balls-out on the highway.

  Really hope her curtains aren’t for shit because her neighbors are about to get a show. Kneeing her legs apart, I make a place for myself. She bucks up against me. Nope, nothing slow about this at all. My dick is hard as a rock, and I need to be inside her. She’s on the same page because she tilts her hips up.

  Engraved invitation right there.

  I yank her legs over my thighs and sit back. World’s best view ever. The fire’s heat plays over her bare skin, lighting up her eyes. Her hair goes every which way and her pussy’s slick and wet.

  Mine.

  I find her clit, circling her with my thumb. Goddamned beautiful. She’s soaking wet, which will make this easier.

  “You want to fuck any particular way?”

  She whimpers something, eyes closing, but the sounds coming out of her mouth make no sense. Guess that means it’s my turn to choose.

  I stroke my fingers up and down, dipping deeper into her pussy with each pass. When my thumb rubs her clit, she breathes faster and faster. I’m trying to be sweet and slow, to check all the boxes on her list. It’s not me, this nice guy, but for Evie I’ll give it a shot.

  “Now,” she gasps. “How about now?”

  Now sure works for me. I won’t last long once I’m in her. I tear the condom open, rolling the rubber down in record time. I want her bare, but I won’t make her feel unsafe.

  As she whimpers and clenches beneath me, working her way toward her own orgasm, I shove her legs farther apart.
I want her to come for me, on me, because I’m the man who does it for her and she trusts me to give her nothing but pleasure. Yeah, I know life doesn’t work that way, but reality’s taking a temporary vacation.

  I set my dick against her and push inside. I’m big, she’s small, and so it’s slow going. She’s tight and her pussy grips me like she’s never letting go, but when I thrust harder, she rewards me with a moan.

  “Relax,” I grunt against her ear. She’s gotta open up and let me in. When she squirms, trying to take me, I pin her in place. Makes me a fucking Neanderthal, but I thread my fingers through hers and draw her hands over her head so I’m in control.

  She finally relaxes beneath me when I find her clit with my free hand.

  “Fast or slow?”

  “Fast,” she groans. I slam into her, riding her hard, and it feels so damned good. I finger her clit, stroking her with each downward thrust, and she more than meets me. And when she clenches around me, gasping and shrieking, that’s my name on her lips.

  Best. Sound. Ever.

  I drive into her, holding her hips and thrusting faster and faster. Giving her the words because she gets everything I’ve got. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  She collapses beneath me as she comes, clutching me with her arms and legs, and I flip her around, drilling into her from behind. I wrap her ponytail around my wrist, pulling her head back for my kiss.

  “Make me forget,” she whispers, and I wonder if it’s possible to come apart with all these feelings coming alive inside me. The pleasure rockets through me and I come fast and dirty, slamming into her once, twice, three times. She whimpers and relaxes as if there’s no more left in her.

  And yeah, I’m smiling against her throat. Might not move for the next couple of hours. Might be days. Rolling onto my side, I wrap an arm around her waist and haul her against me. She wriggles, but I’m not letting go now.

  “We should get up,” she announces.

  “Enjoy the moment, princess.”

  I tangle one hand in her hair, playing with the silky strands. Who fucking knew I could cuddle? It’s nice, though. Kinda like the two of us just lying here together.

  “We’re going to make a mess on the rug.” She makes another bid for freedom. “And you probably need to get going.”

  “You’re really not one for afterglow, are you?”

  “Is that a problem?” The grumpy in her voice makes me smile.

  “Might want to give it a shot. See what you think,” I suggest. “And let me worry about any mess. I got this.”

  She must agree with me because she yawns, and next thing I know, she’s drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eve

  THE MAN SCREWED me into a coma. This must be why I wake up in bed.

  Alone. And naked.

  I never noticed when he picked me up and moved me in the middle of the night. Forget melatonin—Rev is a one-man testament to the superior sleeping power of a good orgasm. I grab a quick shower, pull on some clothes and stagger out to the kitchen in search of coffee. Rev’s passed out on my couch. Sprawled on his back, he looks bigger than ever, which has to be impossible. Heat flushes my body as I take in his relaxed form. His legs are bent, one arm thrown over his head. Boyfriend is such a weird word. I try it silently, not quite ready to say it out loud. My boyfriend, Rev. Or maybe this is my boyfriend. So what if he rocks my world sexually? It does not mean I canonize him.

  He certainly doesn’t look saintlike. Saints absolutely do not come with broad shoulders or such powerful biceps. Tattoos are also definitely not saintly accessories. I don’t own a single throw pillow—he can’t possibly be comfortable. Instead of worrying about the man’s comfort, however, I’m helplessly focused on the way his T-shirt rides up, exposing his stomach and six-pack abs. How does he manage to take up all the space in my house?

  “Feel free to touch,” he rumbles, eyes still closed. “Or you just gonna stand there?”

  I reach for him, trailing my fingers over that tempting strip of skin. God. He’s hard and silky, heated and so impossibly, wonderfully male. Or maybe that’s thanks to the impossible-to-ignore ridge beneath the worn denim clinging to his body. Denim. My favorite kind of gift-wrapping.

  “My bed had room for two,” I whisper.

  “I have a hard time sleeping with other people around.” He opens his eyes.

  Calloused fingers wrap around my wrist and tug gently. Funny how he reads both deadly and safe at the same time, as if he’s ready to give the rest of the world a beat down but then he holds me with such care. Despite my awkward perch on the side of the couch, I go all in. I throw my leg over his hips and straddle him like I’m a cowgirl and he’s my best saddle. He invited me down, so he can put up or shut up.

  “Hell of a way to wake up.” His smile is slow, sleepy and so fucking perfect.

  “Tell me about it,” I whisper back. Since I need to put my hands somewhere, I set them on his chest. The heat of him radiates through the thin T-shirt, and his musky scent teases me. Rev smells like oil and leather and danger. Like the open road and freedom. The sleepy smile transforms his face from fierce to sensually predatory, as if he’s thinking about taking a bite out of me—or having himself a taste.

  Please, please taste me.

  Rev takes his time, running his thumbs over my hips, tracing the line of my bikini panties through my jeans. I fight the urge to relax into that wicked touch, leaning toward him when he doesn’t move further. He just takes me in, sprawled beneath me like some great beast.

  “I need to know something.” The man’s a mystery, but part of me feels as if I’ve known him for years. God. This is so bad. In the dating world, I’ve just cannonballed into the deep end of the pool—and the water might be way too shallow.

  “Shoot,” he says casually.

  “What’s the deal between you and my brother? Are you friends or what?”

  Rocker hasn’t touched base with me yet this morning and that’s unusual. He usually has a sixth sense about when I’m trouble. Or bothered. Worked up about anything. For Rev, I’m all three, plus there’s my SUV run-in yesterday.

  “Shit’s complicated.” Nope. Not an answer at all.

  “I’m generally not considered stupid.” I don’t like playing games—and I really don’t want to play with Rev. Throw him down, rip his clothes off, have my way with him? Yes, yes and hell yes. Word games, however, aren’t my thing.

  Rev mutters an obscenity. “I’m Hard Rider. He’s Black Dog. Our clubs have some differences of opinion.”

  “Anything I should be concerned about?”

  His eyes hold mine, hardening with resolution. “Not one goddamned thing for you to worry about. You know much about club life?”

  I wiggle, getting comfortable—although the impressive erection pressed against my pussy doesn’t lend itself to comfort. “Rocker and I grew up as club rats. Our dad rode with a local club. He never made officer, but he patched in and rode with them. Helped out when they called and stuff, which didn’t work out so well for us.”

  Rev could make a killing playing poker because I can’t tell what he’s thinking. His face is blank and unreadable, his eyes no longer warm and hot. Am I pissing him off by talking shit about someone else’s club? I won’t bullshit about this, however, because my dad’s club wasn’t good for our family. It ripped us apart.

  “He got twenty-five to fifty for transporting weapons,” I say way too loudly. “He went away and then Rocker and I bounced around after that. Our mom wasn’t making much and times were tough.”

  “Club shoulda taken care of you,” Rev growls.

  “If wishes were horses, I’d be able to run the Preakness single-handed. That part of my life is over and done with, but I’m not a big club fan.”

  He nods, hand dipping lower. “Hear you on that. You got plans for today?”
>
  “Work.” I offer him a regretful smile.

  “Be better if you stayed put today.”

  “For who? I have a job. Money to earn. Five-year-olds to please. No work means no cash and I’ve got my bills to pay.”

  Rev stills. It’s not as if he was a sea of motion before, but something in him goes quiet as if he’s working on not unleashing his inner predator. “Ask Rocker about your going into work today.”

  I swing off Rev’s lap. Clearly, we need to work on his relationship skills before he’s ready for me to make my next move, because hello? It’s the twenty-first century and I don’t take orders from whatever man’s decorating my life at the moment. “We should be clear on one thing. Rocker’s not my owner.”

  I look after Rocker, not the other way round.

  “Fuck.” Rev shoves upright, running a hand over his head. “Didn’t mean to imply he was, but shit’s going down.”

  “Rev?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This is where you tell me about the shit going down and then I make my own decision, like the big girl I am.”

  “If you grew up in a club, you know I can’t discuss club business with you.”

  This isn’t a battle I’m winning today, so I head for the kitchen and my BFF, Mr. Coffee. I need to leave and I’d prefer to go caffeinated. While the coffee brews, I retreat down the hall and do my princess hair and makeup. When I come back, a fully dressed Rev is by the front door, holding out a to-go mug of coffee.

  “Thanks, honey,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  He promptly raises the cup up too high for me to reach. “Nobody’s forcing you to drink it.”

  Since coffee is both the elixir of the gods and mandatory this early in the morning, I reach for the cup, plastering my body against his as I stretch. No point in letting him have all the fun. When my fingers close around the handle, I plant a quick, hard kiss on his gorgeous mouth. The man’s lips are downright sinful, and not just because they make me think about sex. And talking dirty.