Ruled

by Anne Marsh

  “I could fuck you right here.” His voice gets lower, rougher. Darker. I bet he gives brilliant phone sex. I buck and he pins me down.

  “Tell me no, Evie, if this isn’t what you want.”

  “Can’t,” I gasp out. I have no idea why he wants to talk now, when we could be doing other things. Kissing. Kissing would be good.

  “Can.” He gives me a dark smile and then shoves his fingers through my slick, swollen folds. Yes. I scream for him. God, I’d do anything he wanted right now. He penetrates me with two fingers, opening me up and pushing deep into my body.

  “Ask me for it,” he growls, twisting his fingers inside me and finding a magic spot. What should feel like an invasion feels so goddamned good. He works his fingers deeper as his thumb zeroes in on my clit. I collapse shamelessly beneath him, giving up any thought of resistance as my pussy tightens. Rev’s shoulder strikes the steering wheel and he grunts.

  “Let me up.” We can drive to his place or mine. Find a motel. Something.

  “Kinda like having you like this.” He looks down, watching his hand, seeing me take his fingers and ride him. It turns me on, knowing he’s so confident. He knows what he likes—and he’s certain he can make me like it, too.

  He penetrates me with three fingers this time, driving deep into my body. Not as if I put up any resistance. I’m swollen, wet for him, so slick that I can hear the wetness as he plays with me.

  He brushes his mouth over my ear. “You still mad at me?”

  This kind of discussion would guarantee world peace. Maybe our leaders should try it. I giggle at the thought and Rev nips my ear hard.

  “Don’t laugh at the man who’s making you feel good.” Warm amusement threads through his voice, though. That’s something I’m figuring out about Rev. He doesn’t judge in bed. Whatever works for me is his favorite thing, too. He finds my G-spot, his calloused fingers rubbing just right against a place that makes me see not just stars but an entire fucking galaxy.

  My head shuts down, my body tight and focused on Rev. He’s the center of the universe for me.

  “Remember,” he says roughly, as if he hasn’t tattooed himself on every nerve ending in my body. “You started this.”

  “And you’d better finish it before I kill you.” I finally manage to wriggle my hands free, but Rev is ready for me. He draws them over my head until my fingers close around the door handle.

  “Don’t let go,” he orders.

  I’m stretched tight, anticipation thrumming through me, as his thumb circles my clit and his fingers push slowly in and out.

  “Or?”

  “Or I’ll stop.” His laugh taunts me. “You want to end like this, Evie? Wet and tight, needing what I can give you?”

  The man should have been a lawyer.

  Not waiting for an answer, he moves down my body and I do my best to make room for him. He shoves my sopping panties to the side, his thumb still working my clit in lazy circles.

  “You like me just fine,” he announces, sounding way too fucking pleased. “This doesn’t feel mad to me.”

  He works me with his tongue, tasting me, owning me. My panties vanish, along with all rational thought. Rev doesn’t hesitate. He opens me up shamelessly, holding me in place with his hands on my hips. His mouth finds my clit, his tongue licking my slick folds as he pushes his thumb and fingers back inside me. I can’t breathe, can’t scream, and holding back isn’t part of my plan. I hurtle toward my orgasm so fast that I yell loud enough to be heard on the street.

  Pretty sure I scream his name. Might make more than a few promises, too, my thighs squeezing his head, my fingers clenched around the handle. I’m pulled tight, stretched, and when the tension breaks, I’m all his.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rev

  EVIE IS FUCKING AMAZING. She moans and hollers, making rough, needy sounds that make me crazy for her. My dick wants to be inside her now, and never mind that we barely fit in the front seat of her ride. I want to shove myself deep inside her, so deep she’ll never get rid of me. Mark her. Own her.

  Fuck.

  Evie demanded a relationship with her sex and I want to give her that, too. After the orgasms, the women at the club want to be paid or they want to talk. They want words, they want holding, or they plain want something I just don’t have in me. As a result, I’ve dated my palm almost exclusively except for a few quick bangs when shit got too lonely or hard. Evie and I can’t happen for real. She’s my insurance plan for Rocker’s good behavior. She’s a marker I’m calling in.

  She deserves more than a rough, quick finger bang in a car.

  She deserves more than me.

  Staring at the pussy I shouldn’t tap, my fingers still buried in her sweet, slick body, I face the truth. I’m an asshole and I’m proud of it. She came hard, screaming my name as I rocked her world. Fuck the rules and what we should or shouldn’t do.

  I slide my fingers out of her pussy. For a second, she lies there, relaxed and open. Her T-shirt’s pushed up above her tits and her panties are on the floor. Don’t remember tearing them off, but I must have. Her pussy’s the prettiest sight ever, pink and wet, the little hole begging for me to shove my dick inside her. Flip her over and get into her ass, too. No way I don’t want to take her—and right now she’d let me.

  I move back to the driver’s seat. I’m in too deep here. “Nice show.”

  Kinda cute how she angry blushes. The pretty pink starts on her cheeks and it sure as shit extends everywhere I can see. She scrambles upright, shoving her shirt back down.

  “You suck,” she splutters, rummaging on the floor and coming up with her ruined panties. She looks at them for a minute but she’s not a miracle worker. She drags her jeans on and shoves the scraps into her bag.

  “And you came.” I suck the taste of her from my fingers. Goddamned flavor of the month right there. Doesn’t matter the expression on her face announces I’m the worst kind of pig. Doesn’t matter because I know her dirty little secret.

  She liked what I did.

  She might not like me, but she likes my fingers and that’s enough. She starts to say something, but I’m in no mood to hear it. I’m a complete fucking idiot because I can’t keep my hands off her, and yet I’m handing her off to my club. What happened here will take on a whole new meaning, at least in her mind, when she understands the situation. I won’t be her boyfriend, her down-low lover, her feel-good guy. I’ll be the criminal who kidnapped her and made her face the unfortunate reality that her beloved baby brother is pond-sucking scum.

  “You—”

  I shut her up by sliding my palm over her mouth. Her teeth scrape my palm. “Bite me and I paddle your ass.”

  Fuck if she doesn’t lick me. Christ. Heat tunnels straight to my dick, making thinking almost impossible.

  “Whatever you start, I’ll finish.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eve

  REV DROPS HIS hand and pulls the Princess Mobile back onto the road. That hand just did unspeakable things to me—and I loved it. He touched me and ate me out and now... Yeah. Now I have no clue what to do.

  Bet Emily Post wouldn’t have a clue, either.

  I lean against the window in a daze, trying not to squeeze my thighs together. Holy crap. The man is out-of-this-world good. Little white-hot pulses of pleasure tease me as we drive and he knows it. The smug smile on his face makes me want to hit him. Okay, and then I want to shove him onto his back and ride him until he’s the one seeing stars.

  Huh. We seem to be taking the scenic route to my house.

  We’re in industrial central—and my neighborhood is row after row of matching houses with one palm tree and a small grass square in front and a concrete patio in the back. The only difference is the paint color and make of the car in the driveway. Rocker always jokes people will hit the wrong house when they come home
drunk or tired.

  These are not my streets, not my neighbors.

  Granted, Rev has a penis. He’s genetically incapable of asking Siri for directions or using the GPS, but he’s been to my place before. He’s no stranger to East Las Vegas. If he’d missed an exit or taken a wrong turn, I’d expect him to curse or to slow down. Instead, his face is cold and closed off, and the Princess Mobile is driving down the road at exactly the speed limit.

  As if Rev really doesn’t want to get pulled over or draw attention to himself right now.

  Something’s so wrong.

  I fidget with my bag, working my phone out.

  He doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Whatever you’re thinking, just sit tight.”

  “This is not the way home.” I punch the seat belt free and reach for the door handle. Yes, this is the stupidest choice I could make since jumping out of a moving vehicle at thirty-five miles an hour will hurt. A lot. But something’s wrong here and I have an excellent imagination. I shove the door open and the road spools away beneath us, a lethal ribbon of hard, unyielding surface. I really don’t want to do this—but I can’t stay, either.

  “Jesus.” Rev curses and slams on the brakes.

  I launch myself out of the RV, duck around the RV and run like hell.

  A bike pulls up in front of me hard and Vik leans forward. “Princess doesn’t get parole.”

  Oh. God.

  I spin away from him, but Rev’s out of the RV, stalking toward me.

  Rev

  This is what happens when I let my dick do the thinking.

  Evie tasted so sweet that I forgot to remember what she is.

  Insurance.

  She bolted out of the RV like I’d held a gun to her head. She’s pulling a runner on me and Vik’s laughing his ass off. She ducks and weaves around the open car door, but Vik cuts her off easily.

  “Hard way or the easy way?” I hold a hand out to her and her mouth opens. “Don’t scream if you’re voting easy.”

  There’s a curse from behind her as Vik registers his opinion. He’s not stupid, though. He doesn’t touch what’s mine. Because Evie is mine, even if she doesn’t know it. Gonna make that clear real soon, along with a few other things.

  “Fuck you,” she breathes. That’s not a scream, but then she turns and sprints away from me. Not sure where she thinks she’s going because she’s stuck between me and Vik. She tries to cut around the RV, feet flying. The fear radiating off her isn’t unjustified because as much as I’d like to say I’m not planning on hunting her, I am.

  I love hunting.

  I count to three (I’m such a fucking gentleman) and then pound after her, not trying to hide my approach. Her feet scrabble for purchase as I lunge, fisting her T-shirt. Her ass hits my dick and I snake an arm around her waist, lifting her off her feet. No way she misses the hard-on poking her. Chasing her is a hell of a turn-on.

  “You pig,” she hisses. Pretty sure she’s just mentally painted an X on my dick and plans on introducing her knee to that target.

  “Sticks and stones, princess,” I whisper against her ear and nip hard. I’d like to play with her until she’s screaming for me, and not because she’s hurting, either. “Are you still wet?”

  She splutters incoherently, which will piss her off when she gets her head straight. Evie hates being out of control and not knowing what to say. I give her a few seconds to pull her shit together.

  I toss her over my shoulder, immobilizing her kicking legs against my chest with one arm. Still, I take her point. She really doesn’t like me right now. Fine. There’s a long line of people who hate me—she can get in the fucking queue and take a number.

  “Might want to be nice to me seeing as how I’m kidnapping you,” I tell her.

  She goes straight for the denial. “You can’t do that.”

  I pat her ass. “Don’t see how you can stop me.”

  Evie’s learned something from our time together. She doesn’t bother announcing her attentions—just opens her mouth and tries to scream. I flip her around, slap a palm over her pretty mouth, and adjust my grip so she can’t bite. The neighborhood’s shit, but somebody might notice.

  “Stop playing,” Vik says from behind me.

  “Fucking love my job,” I shoot back. “Don’t rush me.”

  I nudge Evie’s face up so I can see her eyes.

  “We’ve got a problem, princess. Shit’s happened between the clubs and that means you and me have a date at the Hard Rider clubhouse.”

  Fuck, that sounds dirty.

  From the choking noise Evie makes, she agrees with me 100 percent, except I’m clearly the issue from her point of view.

  “We’re riding out of here. You can come with us, or you can fight. Gonna end up at my clubhouse either way, but I’ll be in a better mood if you don’t fight me on this.”

  She nods carefully and I lift my palm away from her mouth and set her back on her feet.

  “I think you should go to hell,” she says slowly. Vik snorts.

  She tries to duck under my arm, as if that shit’s gonna fly. I step closer, pinning her in place against the RV with my legs. She feels sweet as always.

  “What’s it gonna be, sweetheart?”

  She goes wild, kicking and biting. Fuck, it’s a good thing I’m wearing boots. Vik’s laughing his ass off, the bastard. I grab her wrists and heft her over my shoulder. Her feet drum my ass, her mouth hovering perilously close to my dick and not because she wants to deliver my fantasy blowjob.

  “Knock it off.” I slap her on the ass, partly because I have a point to make and partly because goddamn she feels good. Love the soft give as my fingers mark her, putting my stamp on her skin. “Bite me and you kiss it better.”

  That stops her, although we both know she’ll rally. Evie doesn’t know how to quit for good. Hell, she probably still thinks I can be redeemed or saved or some shit. I adjust her weight so my shoulder’s not digging into her stomach and open the passenger-side door. I drop her onto the seat and stare down at her.

  I grip her chin in my hand and force her to look at me. “It would be a real bad idea to fight me right now. You might buy yourself a few minutes, but then I’d catch you again and I’d be pissed.”

  She opens her mouth, undoubtedly to argue. Her mistake is that she thinks I won’t hurt her. I don’t want to hurt her, but the MC comes first and I’ll do what I have to do.

  “Rocker fucked up. He took a brother and we want him back. You’re gonna make sure that happens.”

  She licks her lips. “How do I do that?”

  “Think of yourself as a bargaining chip.”

  “But—”

  “Nuh-uh. The other option is that I shoot Rocker dearest the next time I see him.”

  Being Mr. Helpful, Vik pulls his gun out and thumbs the safety off. Evie stares at him, her panicked breathing coming way too quick as her gaze darts between the gun and me. If she hyperventilates, I’ll have an even bigger problem on my hands.

  “Come quietly and we’ll save the bullets for later.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eve

  DEATH CHANGES EVERYTHING.

  No one’s dead yet, but Rev and his friend have made it plenty clear that the operative word is yet. No matter what my brother’s done or not done, I’m not letting him get shot on my watch. I’m not entirely certain what just happened, but I think it goes something like this: I let Rev eat me out, he threatened to kidnap me, I ran, he caught me, and now we’re driving somewhere I’m going to be really unhappy because kidnapping never works out as well as orgasms.

  Also? My taste in men totally sucks.

  I don’t want to think about what I’ve let Rev do to me (or what I’ve done to him), so I focus on the basics. “Promise me something?”

  He grunts and eases the Princess Mobile back out
onto the road. He’s entirely too comfortable committing felonies. I thought he was a decent guy underneath the rough exterior, but I’ve made my usual mistake, confusing a really talented penis with long-term relationship material. Okay. Lesson learned. If—when—I get out of this, no more dating for the next seventy years.

  “Promised you you’d stay safe,” he volunteers. “You want something else?”

  My wish list right now is impossibly long.

  Yes, yes I want something.

  “Promise me Rocker doesn’t get hurt.”

  The words sound pathetic. I don’t want to think about how Rev’s going to interpret them, but I’m more than willing to beg. This is my brother, and he’s in so much trouble that my heart bleeds for him. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is still better than what happens when actual, real-life bullets start flying.

  Rev shoots me an incredulous look. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No.” I tuck my hands between my legs. “I’d really appreciate it if you promised me that my brother doesn’t get hurt. Whatever biker beat-down you think you have planned for him, please don’t.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re incredible.”

  I don’t think he means this in a good way, but I have to keep trying. “He’s my brother, I love him, and shooting would be murder.”

  “Don’t have a problem with any of that,” Rev mutters.

  I believe him.

  “But if you promise to keep him safe, I’ll be quiet. I won’t tell anyone about—” I wave a hand. There really ought to be a way to refer to your kidnapping politely.

  “You’ll come quietly?” Now Rev just sounds amused.

  “Silent as the grave.” Bad choice of words.

  His curse doesn’t say much for Rocker’s chances. “I can maybe guarantee that the Hard Riders don’t kick his ass too hard—because right now, sweetheart, I’ll be honest and tell you that my president has a bullet with your brother’s name on it—but I can’t speak for the Colombians. He double-crossed them and they make me look like an angel.”