Fugitive: A Bad Boy Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 2)

by Jackie Wang

  I could hear Kieran panting behind me. A jungle cat ready to pounce. His musky scent mixed with sweat and bathed every inch of me…a seductive incense, a swirl of delight. I shuddered as he brought his fingertips against my slit, the pads rolling my clit in a slow, circular motion. Ass in the air and hands bound, I was utterly exposed, and I loved it. Relished every breath and whisper.

  I heard the sound of a zipper opening, then a rush of heat replaced the cool air between thighs. Kieran’s cock hovered inches from my opening, and hesitated there, as if waiting for permission.

  “Give it to me, baby,” I cried. “Fill me.”

  “As you wish,” Kieran said, molding his chest against my back. “How deep do you want it?”

  “As deep as you can go,” I grunted out. “I. Want. It. All.”

  His tip slid right into me, followed by the rest of his nine inches. I choked on words as he began ramming into me, his speed only rivaled by his finesse. Somehow, he seemed to hit all the right places. All the deepest, darkest surfaces of my inner walls. He moved like a dream, quickly bringing me to a fever pitch and not stopping until rapture overtook all my senses.

  “Oh fuck, I’m coming so hard,” I panted.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” he replied.

  But he wasn’t finished.

  Just as my knees buckled, he scooped me up and brought me into the bedroom. Throwing me onto the bed, he jumped in after me, pinning me down with his muscular thighs. He had undressed completely at some point, and stood before me now in all his manly glory. I leaned in and pulled his pierced nipple between my lips, savoring the taste of cool metal in my mouth. “Mmm, yum.” After I finished with his other nipple, I pulled back, studying the hills and valleys of Kieran’s face.

  Kieran looked deep into my eyes, his pupils dilating and shifting from side to side. As if he was trying to read me like a book. “Rach…be mine,” he said. “Only mine.”

  “What—”

  “I love you,” he blurted out. Then he bit his lip, as if he regretted saying it. Dragging in a deep breath, he started again. “Screw it. I need to tell you. I…I’ve been in love with you—crazy about you—for the past two years. Your visits kept me sane inside a cell meant to drive me insane. Seeing you was always the best part of my week, and fantasizing about you was the best part of every day. I talked my cellmates’ ears off raving about how gorgeous, smart, and incredible you are. I’ve waited two years to make love to you, I won’t wait two more to confess how I really feel about you. You’re the one I want to come home to every night. The one I want to hold and cherish and protect. The one I want to grow old with. No one has shown me as much kindness and loyalty as you have. Please, Rach, will you be my girlfriend?”

  I nearly laughed out loud at his confession. It was candid and caught me completely off guard. But I loved its spontaneity. Kieran had always been impulsive, and tended to say and do things before thinking them through. Now was no exception.

  “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” I replied. “You think I’d visit any ol’ man in prison for two years straight?”

  Kieran kissed every inch of my face, hardly able to contain his joy. His eyes shone like stars. “I’ll make you so happy, so, so fucking happy, I swear to God.”

  “I love you, Kieran Mahoney, for all that you are,” I murmured, breathing fast.

  I’d always known the truth. Deep down inside, I knew I’d fallen hopelessly for this felon. My felon. I was just mired by self-doubt and the fear of rejection. Now that he was back, I had no doubt we could make this work. Finally build a relationship together. This was really happening!

  “This calls for a celebration,” Kieran said, grinning.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked, tracing the tattoo on his chest.

  “Another round of orgasms, on the house,” Kieran said.

  “Only one? How about three?” I quipped back.

  “Tough customer,” Kieran said, pulling me against him. “But I’ll do my level best.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Kieran

  I gave her three orgasms in a row and she was still going strong. This woman was insatiable. “I’m starting to think you’re some sort of sex machine,” I said, grinning down at my lover. Wisps of dark hair plastered against Rachelle’s pale cheeks, framing her round cheekbones and smooth forehead. I stroked her jaw with the crook of my finger. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

  “You’re one lucky guy,” Rachelle said, chuckling. “I hear Rachelle’s real tough to please.”

  “I do alright,” I said, brushing my thumb across her lips. “Triple-O’s and I can still get it up.”

  Rachelle threw her head back and laughed out loud, her straight teeth gleaming. “I have to say, I haven’t been fucked this good in a long time.”

  My fingers continued to trace her naked form while my gaze studied the playful shadows trailing her slim torso. In this peaceful moment of post-coital bliss, I felt complete. Strong enough to handle anything life threw my way. I’d survived for years off emotional scraps. My soul starved of compassion. Now that I had Rachelle, my world abounded with positive energy. She could do that to a person. She made me believe in the impossible: that falling in love could mend my fractured soul. Somehow, she pulled me up from darkness and breathed new life into what I thought was a deadened heart. She resuscitated me, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life repaying that debt.

  “It’s one a.m., and I need to go to work in the morning,” Rachelle murmured. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

  “Or, or…We go all night and you play hooky in the morning,” I suggested, sliding a finger between her legs. She was still wet for me. I drew my finger into my mouth and sucked, tasting her salty-sweet essence. I licked my lips. “Ready to play again?”

  Rachelle’s limp legs entwined with mine. She rested her cheek against my chest and murmured, “Get some rest, Kieran. We have plenty of time for sex later.”

  “Fine,” I said, pouting. “But you owe me four orgasms tomorrow.”

  “Deal.”

  Rachelle left for work before I even got up. I yawned and stretched my arms. The bedroom smelled of sex and euphoria. I drank it in and soaked it up. Couldn’t get enough.

  It was the first time I’d ever slept in my girlfriend’s luxurious bed, and it felt fantastic. Her sheets were soft and warm against my skin, and her pillows smelled like her. I could hardly believe everything that’d happened last night. We’d fucked like animals, but that wasn’t the most important part. The crowning moment of my day was when she said she loved me back. Nothing could beat that feeling. Knowing that my sentiments were returned, and that I could move forward to the next phase of my plan without hesitation.

  Step three: Find a job and save up for a ring.

  I figured it’d probably take me at least a year to save up for the kind of ring Rachelle deserved. By that time, we’d know whether or not we were right for each other. See, I was planning ahead.

  She wouldn’t want something flashy, of course, but I had to also take into account how little I’d be making at whatever job I got. If I managed to save forty bucks a week, it’d still take me forty-five weeks to save up for an entry-level, $1800 diamond engagement ring. So…I needed to get started.

  And what better place to seek employment than at my half-brother’s booming bar?

  Mahoney’s didn’t open until seven, so I spent the entire day exploring the neighborhood and getting a feel for the community. Rachelle lived in a friendly, middle-class neighborhood. The kind of place where joggers and dog-walkers waved ‘hello’ to you on the street and salespeople wished you a good day after you left their store. Westbridge was a great place to raise a family and lay down roots, I had no doubt about it. Its streets were immaculate, its citizens, polite and well-groomed. It was a place I could finally call home. I was damn near exploding with happiness. For the first time in twelve years, I’d found a place where I belonged.
/>   I never thought I’d ever find a home. Until Rachelle changed my perspective on everything. She was the type of woman who made a man like me want to settle down. I’d fallen for her, hook, line and sinker. And I fell willingly. Happily. Irrevocably.

  After sunset, I walked all the way to Mahoney’s. It took about three hours, but I enjoyed it. The long walk gave me a chance to really think about my future and what I wanted for myself. For us. Rachelle and I were in a relationship now, and that was not something I took lightly. Even though she agreed to be my girlfriend without hesitation, I still needed to prove to her that I could take care of her. Yes, it was very old-fashioned, but that was the way I was raised. I fully supported her career aspirations, but I also wanted to contribute equally to our future. I wanted her to be able to fall back on me and know that I’d catch her no matter what life threw at us.

  Around eight-thirty, I strode into Mahoney’s and immediately made eye-contact with my brother from across the room. He was his usual suave, good-looking self. His dark hair was slicked back, and his strong jaw tense with concentration. Cameron Mahoney was: a ladies’ man, a professional mixologist and every woman’s walking fantasy. He was also: stubborn as fuck, a hopeless player and a ruthless businessman.

  He’d visited me at least once a month at Maxfield. Even came with Rachelle a handful of times. When he’d first learned about what I’d done, he said I was the dumbest criminal on the planet. That if I’d had half a brain, I could’ve solved my problem a million different ways. If I’d asked for his help, he could’ve gone to Seattle and brought Kara and Bianca over. Of course, I wasn’t thinking right when I did all those things two years ago. I was too wrapped up in my own little world to realize that I had people who’d help me if I just opened up to them. I wanted to take the reins and do everything myself. I was stupid. I was touched that Cameron cared about me so much. After our parents’ death, I thought for sure he’d cut all ties between us. He had no reason to see me. Our relationship had always been tenuous at best over the years, but I wanted to make a real effort now. This time, I’d ask Cam for help, instead of trying to shoulder everything alone.

  “Kieran! My man!” Cam greeted me in his thick Irish accent. “How are ya?”

  “Never been better,” I said, grinning. “Rachelle told me she loved me last night. We’re dating now. Life’s great.”

  “That’s bloody fantastic!” Cam said, reaching over the counter to hug me. He slapped me on the back. “Drinks on me. What’ll you have?”

  “Whiskey. Neat,” I replied.

  Cam nodded and began fixing my drink. I scanned the bar, trying to see if it was short-staffed in any way. I needed to find a way I could be of service here. My ass squeaked across the barstool as I swiveled around to check out the scene.

  Several hot, blond servers with fake tits winked at me as they passed by. A ginger busboy was clearing tables at lightning speed, sweat flying off his face. He seemed to be really in the zone. Behind Cam stood a buxom, older woman wiping down glasses.

  “Bottoms up,” Cam said, setting my drink on a coaster and sliding it toward me.

  “Looks like you’re doing well for yourself,” I said, gesturing to the lively crowd.

  “Not bad at all,” Cam replied. “I’m lucky, I have some great people.”

  “I’m just going to cut to the chase. I came here to look for a job, Cam. Help a brother out,” I said, taking a sip of my drink.

  “You sure you want to work for me?” Cam asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m a tough boss.”

  “You’re a tough brother too,” I said. “I can handle it. I need some cash, Cam. I’m trying to save up.”

  “For what?”

  “I’ll tell you when I’ve got enough.”

  “You’re not saving up just so you can run off again, are you?” Cam said, folding his arms across his chest.

  I shook my head. “No, no more running. I’m staying this time. For good. I’ve got a woman who loves me, and a brother who’s going to give me a job. I’m set.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to hire you,” Cam said, smirking. “You got a resumé?”

  I laughed. “You won’t regret it, Cam. I’ll work hard, I swear.”

  Cam sighed, then nodded. “When can you start?”

  “How about tonight?” I said, rolling up my sleeves. “What do you need done?”

  I spent the next four hours bussing tables, washing dishes and restocking shelves. It was mundane but easy work, and I was glad Cam let me do it. After the last call, Cam told me to stay behind so he could give me a ride back to Westbridge. I emptied out the dishwasher as Cam sorted tips. By the time I joined him back at the bar, he had a wad of twenties in his fist. He smoothed out the bills and handed them to me. “Looks like some of my customers think you’re cute,” Cam said. “You got some good tips tonight.”

  “I didn’t think—”

  “Keep working hard and you can stay here as long as you want. Glad to have you back, Ki. Now tell me more about Rachelle…”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Rachelle

  “So, I’ve been kind of fantasizing about your cock all day,” I purred, looping my arms around Kieran’s neck. His smell, taste and touch was my ultimate addiction, and I couldn’t get enough. I could hardly focus at work because I was too busy imagining how his nine inches would feel down my throat. He inspired scandalous daydreams I couldn’t quite banish; ones I didn’t want to banish.

  But it wasn’t just sex I thought about. I also thought about us, walking hand in hand through the park. Watching sunsets together from my condo. Hugs and kisses and other cheesy couple things. Most of all, I finally stopped living in denial and embraced the truth: I was in love with Kieran Mahoney. Truly, madly, deeply.

  And he loved me back.

  After all the crazy shit that went down, here we were, together at last. If you’d asked me two years ago about what I saw in the future, I would’ve said, “my husband, Rob, a nice house and maybe a baby on the way.” Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that this would happen. But it worked out for the best, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  “You dirty, dirty girl,” Kieran said, “come here.” He pulled me down on the couch with him. “I guess I did promise you four orgasms today. Would you like to get started?” He rolled me onto my back and began kissing my raw skin, which still tingled from the beard burn he gave me last night. “Tell me, what exactly do you want me to do with my cock?”

  “Shove it down my throat,” I said, my fingers already working on his zipper. “I want to taste it against my tongue.”

  “Now how can a man say no to that?” Kieran said, helping me ease off his jeans. “But first, I have some good news.”

  I paused and looked up. “What?”

  “I—”

  “You did it, you got a job didn’t you!” I said, getting up on my knees. “Oh, that calls for extra special treatment tonight.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Kieran said, yanking my long hair. He exposed my neck and nipped the sensitive skin there, causing me to shuffle backwards against the armrest. Pushing me back down, Kieran cupped his warm palms between my legs and growled. I panted in response, and his fingers worked faster, eager to please, eager to reduce me into an incoherent, lust-driven mess. I swallowed hard and panted harder, shamelessly grinding against his fingers and loving every second of it. I thought I could last longer than five minutes, but apparently, I couldn’t. Because within minutes, Kieran’s calculated strokes sent me flying over the edge and quivering from an explosion of endorphins.

  “That’s one,” he said, eyes hooded. “Now three more to go.”

  “My turn,” I said, tugging down his pants and then straddling his lap. His tight briefs emphasized a very hard, very primed package. I gyrated against him, feeling his rigid length against my entrance, so ready to go, just for me. But instead of removing my underwear, I sank down to the floor and parted his legs. Freeing his cock, I began licking his t
ip, around his ridge, flicking it over the bulging veins along the shaft…

  Kieran shifted beneath me, body loose, head lolled back. Unmasked ecstasy painted his face; he was on cloud nine, and I was the one who brought him there.

  Kieran no longer hid behind a stoic wall or even a mask of indifference. He was a changed man. He trusted me one-hundred percent, and he bared himself to me in a way no man ever had. I shared an intimacy with him unlike anything I’d ever had with my ex-boyfriends, and it was a feeling that terrified and exhilarated me at the same time.

  I was living wild and free.

  I wasn’t following a life script. I’d swerved off the prescribed path—in fact, I was so off-course, I didn’t even know where the path was anymore. And it was okay. With Kieran, I knew everything would be okay.

  Sure, he didn’t fit into any cookie-cutter boyfriend molds. So. Fucking. What. He was the anti-son-in-law, everything my uptight Asian parents didn’t want for me. I didn’t care.

  He had a dark past (that involved drugs, gasp!), no university education (let alone an Ivy League one), no savings, no car, no place to live and he had a poor-paying job. He did more than a decade of prison time and he had some big tattoos (double gasp!). Oh yeah, there was also that crazy hot nipple ring and he was hung like a horse.

  And he was…all. Fucking. Mine.

  Besides, Kieran wasn’t all tough and buff and no-nonsense.

  We joked about everything under the sun. He was a loving father and a fiercely protective boyfriend. He took the fall for someone who didn’t deserve him, and he suffered from abuse without turning abusive himself. If that didn’t deserve my respect, I didn’t know what did.

  Kieran fisted my air, wrapping it around his knuckles. “Rach…Oh fuck…”

  I popped him out of my mouth with a loud smack. “Come for me, baby. I want you to feel as good as you made me feel.”