“Yeah. Safest. Look. I know y’all are busy. I wouldn’t be makin’ this call if I had a choice.”
“What time?”
“Twelve. I’ll rustle up lunch.”
“You don’t hear back from me, it means we’ll be there. If he’s got somethin’ he can’t get out of, we’ll make it work another way.”
Clover was listening to the call. When he put the phone down, she immediately said, “Who’s Brand?”
“Brash’s twin brother. He’s got connections in your part of the world and might be able to help.”
She was shaking her head. “This was a mistake.”
“What was?”
“Bringing this to your door. These people… there’s a reason why I left everything except what I could carry in that duffel and ran. These people are dangerous and they don’t mess around.”
Raze sat back. “You know the place where we took the Toyota?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the headquarters of the Sons of Sanctuary Motorcycle Club. They’re real nice people when they’re friends of yours. And they’re straight arrow citizens when it works for ‘em. But if the situation calls for it, they can also be the kind of people who don’t mess around.”
That news did not seem to calm her down. “All the more reason for me to leave you out of this! God! I don’t want to be responsible for you or your friends getting hurt.” With a look that resembled sincere trepidation, she said, “I’m not going to be the second woman to wreck your life.”
What she said drove straight to the core of Raze Rouen and cracked the barrier that he’d so carefully erected. His features were soft, but his words were not. “Simmer down. There’s no point in ratcheting up the drama.”
“Drama.” She looked at him like he was crazy. “It’s not drama when you’re talking about people with weapons and every intention to harm. Is that your version of ‘calm down’? Didn’t anybody ever tell you that one of the five things you should never do with a woman is tell her to calm down?”
Clover thought it was an odd time for Raze to suddenly grow a sense of humor and decide he was amused, and that served to stoke the fire that was causing her to fume. Visibly. He thought the fact that her nostrils were flaring was precious.
“Here’s the thing. We’re gettin’ out ahead of things comin’ to that. We’re gonna take precautions to be sure that things don’t come to that. You trust me with this?”
She searched his eyes for only a second before committing to an answer. “I don’t think for a minute that that’s the smart thing to do or the right thing to do. So I don’t get why,” she nodded, “but I do. Trust you, I mean.” She paused. “But how are you going to ‘get out ahead of this’?”
“I have a Plan A and a Plan B. If one don’t work, the other will.”
He made it clear that he was saying nothing more about it.
“You hungry?”
“Yes. For pizza.”
“Pizza.” Raze said it like he was talking about eating shit. He looked toward the refrigerator. “I might have a frozen one.”
“Okay. I’ll make it,” she said, sounding as enthusiastic as if it was a treat and privilege.
They ate pizza in front of the TV while watching past episodes of “Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee”. Raze wasn’t completely sold on the conversation, but he did enjoy Seinfeld’s cars.
Around one he said, “Well, I’d better get some clothes.”
He started to get up from the couch, but Clover put her hand on his forearm. He looked down at where her fair hand rested on the darkened weathered skin of his arm that was bare from having rolled up the sleeve of the Henley he wore. His eyes lifted to hers.
“Don’t go,” she almost whispered.
His eyes momentarily squinted in an expression that was akin to a wince. “You don’t owe me that, stray girl. I’m not buying you.”
“I know that, Raze. I’m not for sale. But I’m yours tonight. If you want.”
His eyes drifted down to her full lips that looked dewy because of the lip gloss she’d applied after consuming half of a pepperoni, Italian sausage, mushroom, black olive, green pepper and parmesan pizza.
He thought he ought to just get his clothes and go to the studio. In stray girl’s words, that would be the smart thing to do and the right thing to do. But he knew he wasn’t going to do the smart thing or the right thing. He’d taken the punches life had given him. He’d be stupid to say no to the gifts.
When he opened his mouth, he said one of the least romantic things he could say. “You got a condom?”
She blinked rapidly, pulled back, and a frown formed on her forehead. “No,” in a tone with a duh implied. “When I thought about what I might need to run for my life, condoms did not come to mind.”
He smirked, leaned closer, and dropped his voice. “Don’t get hysterical.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve managed to hit two of the five things you should never say to a woman in one evening.”
He had the nerve to smirk at that as well. “I might have one stashed in the office at the roadhouse.”
“You might? Or you do?”
He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “You’re mad about me havin’ condoms over at the roadhouse?”
She huffed. “I’m not mad about it. Exactly. I just don’t like the image of you with…”
He gaped. “You couldn’t seriously be jealous that I have condoms at the roadhouse.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say jealous.”
“No? What would you call it?”
“Unwanted thoughts.”
“Unwanted thoughts,” he repeated.
“Unwanted thoughts about you fucking people at your place of business.”
“Fucking people,” he repeated. She was too adorable to be for real.
“That’s what you’re saying, right? That you fuck people at the roadhouse.”
He smiled in the most insufferable way possible. “Not every day.”
“Ugh!”
“Are you serious? You’re feelin’ territorial about me after one kiss?” He said it like it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard while belying the fact that he was open to the idea. Perhaps even feeling euphoric about her wanting to keep him for herself. And her outburst was reassuring him that she wasn’t offering herself as some kind of misguided attempt to pay back a kindness.
“And a dance!” She said it with such authority, that he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.
As much as she longed to see that, the timing was wrong. So she pushed his shoulder. “Do not laugh at me!”
“Alright. I won’t laugh, but be honest. You did not believe I’m a novice with women.”
He said it like a question and made it clear he was waiting for an answer.
She crossed her arms in front of her and pouted. “No.” But the pout disappeared the second he leaned over to nuzzle her ear and whisper in it.
“Aside from everything else, like that I’m a man, I’m older than you.”
She tilted her head back. “What, like three years?”
“Four.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be gone for five minutes. When I get back I’m going to show you the reasons why you’re so glad I’m not a novice with women.”
He heard her breath catch at that and smiled. The smiling thing was starting to become a habit. He scented her with a deep breath in. Like most things he did, she found that sexy enough to make her squirm uncomfortably.
Then he was gone.
He’d said five minutes. That meant she had enough time to change into something worthy of a lover like Raze Rouen. What would that be?
She’d just done laundry. Everything was clean, but that didn’t mean that she had a trunk load of undergarments designed for seduction. She did, however, have a pretty set of red lacy lingerie.
Tearing into the bedroom she threw off clothes, located the bra and panties, then looked for something to put on over it. She had nothing sexy and was about to sett
le for her Sponge Bob night shirt, but on a whim she opened the door to Raze’s closet. If he’d share his bed, he’d share his clothes. Right?
She pulled out a black ACDC concert tee. Perfect. And ran to the bathroom.
She let her hair down from the messy bun that had been in all day, the perfect hair for helmets, and tossed her hair a bit so it had that tousled look. She checked her makeup and heard him come back in just when she thought she was as ready as she’d ever be.
He was standing at the foot of the bed, but turned when she opened the bath door. Eyes darkening immediately as they scanned over her, he rasped, “Hey. I have a shirt just like that.”
“Oh?” She looked down like she’d forgotten what she was wearing.
“Looks better on you though.”
All of a sudden he felt like the very novice he’d assured her he wasn’t. He held up three condoms like they were the Holy Grail.
“Ambitious?” She smiled sweetly. He answered with a small lopsided grin. “I like the way you think.” When he didn’t make a move from the spot where he stood, she held up her hands. “Welcome to your bedroom.”
Cocking his head to the side, he drunk in the fact that she was anxious, and wanting to put her at ease was all the prompt he needed to have his usual self-confidence flood back into his body.
“Come here,” he said in a voice slightly raspier than usual.
She hesitated, like she was trying to choose what she wanted most. To assert herself by refusing to be bossed around. Or bring herself within striking distance of the guy who was starting to loom legendary from her perspective and find out what his hands felt like when given free roaming privileges.
She closed the distance between them wearing the flush that a woman wears when she’s more than ready to be made love to.
He rested his fingertips lightly on the sides of her hips and gently pulled her body flush with his. “You nervous, stray girl?”
Her eyes cast down to his mouth and back up to his eyes. She licked her lips. “Maybe.”
“What do I need to do to put you at ease?”
“Kiss me. Like you did before when…”
Raze decided he didn’t need to wait for the end of that sentence. He got the gist. While he was plundering her mouth with the kind of kiss she would likely never forget, he was inching the concert tee up her body, the tips of his fingers keeping contact with her skin as they blazed a trail of first contact.
When he released her lips, he pulled the shirt the rest of the way up and off her body, which left her standing there as his fully embodied wet dream, wearing the red lingerie he’d fantasized about.
He stared for so long she began to feel self-conscious and brought her arms up to her chest. He caught her wrists and pulled her arms out.
“No. Don’t hide. Let me enjoy.”
For once, he managed to say the right thing. All she needed to know was that he liked what he saw.
She stepped forward and pushed his Henley up. He didn’t waste time, but pulled the shirt over his head in one clean movement. She pressed a kiss between his pectoral muscles while he unfastened her bra.
“Are you going to take off your boots?”
He grinned. “Is it my bare feet you’re after?”
“Not exactly.”
Growling as he nuzzled her neck, he said, “What is it you’re so eager to see? Hmmm?”
“Well…”
“If you can’t say it, you can’t see it. Come on,” he coaxed. “I want to hear it straight from those lips.” He cupped her breast in a big hand that was a little calloused from the handlebars of his Harley.
“You want me to talk dirty?” She lifted her chin. “Alright, fucker. Show me your cock.”
He chuckled. “You want a show? Get on the bed.”
She pulled down the quilt and top sheet, scooted up so that her back was against the headboard and pulled her knees up under her chin. Once in place she watched as he stripped out of every stitch he was wearing, revealing a body made fit by healthy food, daily runs, and a set of free weights in the garage. He was proud of it and had every right to be.
When his cock sprang free and bobbed enticingly, she couldn’t stay where she was a second longer. She walked on her knees to the edge of the mattress so she could reach out and wrap her fingers around his velvet-covered, swollen length. When she squeezed, his eyes glinted in the dim light of the room and he growled. “Harder.”
She complied, watching his face as she experimented with different grips and levels of pressure.
Forcing her back on the bed he laved the nipple of one of her breasts with his skilled tongue until she was panting and writhing.
“Get the condom,” she said.
He let her nipple go and smiled wickedly. “I don’t think we’re ready to go there.”
“We are! We are!”
“I’ll say when we are.”
She roared her own version of a growl, but got very quiet when he pulled her panties free and teased her sex with light airy touches all around her nub, circling but not touching. She tried moving her body to force contact but he was good at evasion.
“Ruin. You’re the Devil.”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m just the guy who’s gonna show you why you want to stick around here.”
That made her stop dead still. “You want me to stick around?”
“One thing at a time, stray girl. I’m tryin’ to make love to you. Pay attention.”
She grinned. “Yeah. I’m on board with that plan. Hence, the sweating, squirming, begging, and pleading.”
He chuckled and grazed her clit as he slipped his third finger into her opening, which caused her to gasp. “Stop being cute and come for me.”
“I’m not being cute! I’m being needy. There’s a difference. And I’m not a trained whore with tricks like come on demand!”
“Okay.” He was amused by her defensive outburst and the way it was delivered while panting for him. But at the same time, he was determined to give her the orgasm of her life. He added his ring finger to the massaging of her inner walls while rhythmically stroking her swollen button with his thumb. In less than a minute she’d exploded in a spectacular orgasm that left him hoping he’d never forget the sounds she made or the look on her face. But he wasn’t too concerned with remembering. He was more concerned with earning an opportunity to recreate that look again and again and again.
She was clinging to him, nails dug into his shoulders, when he pulled away suddenly. Opening her eyes, she tried to get her brain to function well enough to perceive what was going on.
He was ripping open the condom package with his teeth and rolling it on to the most mind-blowingly perfect organ imaginable. She found the process fascinating and erotic, perhaps the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.
“That was soooooo sexy,” she purred.
“What? Putting this condom on?”
“Don’t play like you don’t know.” His sardonic smile coupled with hooded eyes gone dark and heated was her undoing. When he aligned himself at her entrance, she repositioned herself to accommodate. “Hurry up. Stop teasing.”
He laughed. “You’re awful greedy, stray girl.”
“Just shut up and give me what I want.”
He slid in slowly, allowing her body to adjust to his unusual size, never taking his eyes away from her face. He wanted to savor every second because intimacy with a woman like stray girl didn’t come along every week. Maybe not even in every lifetime.
“This what you want?” he asked.
She made a strangled noise that he took as a yes as she accepted him in his entirety.
Raze hadn’t lied when he’d bragged that she’d be glad he wasn’t a novice. He made love slowly and unselfishly, with purpose and stamina. By the time all three condoms were used, she was as limp as a rag doll and sleeping so soundly that she was snoring softly. Which, like so many other things about her, he found adorable.
He pulled the covers over them and spooned
her from behind, acknowledging that he hadn’t slept with a woman since the time he was a married man. Raze had been certain he’d never allow those kinds of feelings to be tapped again. But stray girl was, well, different. She brought out things in him that he’d never felt before, not even with his ex-wife.
Things like a longing that couldn’t be quenched. A desire to be even closer when that was physically impossible. And, above all, a need to protect her from whatever might be coming.
He didn’t know how it was possible for him to have such strong feelings in such a short time. But it was an undeniable fact and nothing was going to hurt stray girl so long as he lived and breathed.
She was asleep when he eased out of bed. So he left a note on the pillow.
Gone for a run with Bless and set the alarm. So don’t open the door. Back soon.
She was still asleep when he got back. So he got in the shower, put on clean clothes and was leaving to open up the roadhouse kitchen and make sandwiches for the Fornight boys when she roused.
“Hey,” she said, sounding sleepy.
He sat on the side of the bed and pushed hair back from her face. “Hey. I’m heading over for the meeting. I’m gonna set the alarm. Don’t open the door. If you need something, call me. Or text me.” He looked around. “Where’s your phone?”
She pointed to her purse. He handed her the purse so she could pull out her phone.
“This is a burner.”
“I know.”
It looked small in his hand as he stared at it.
He sighed. “That was smart. Who’d you give this number to?”
“Henry Boyd.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
He nodded. “I’m putting my number in contacts.”
“Okay.”
“Back in an hour or so.” He got up to leave.
“Raze?”
“Yeah?”
“Last night was amazing.”
He gave her a boyish lopsided grin and a little shake of the head. “Yeah. Want more of that. Which means I need to make sure this thing followin’ you around gets taken care of.”
Raze made sliced chicken breast sandwiches on artisan bread and served them with thick cut potato chips and his best craft beer.
Roadhouse (Sons of Sanctuary MC, Austin, Texas Book 5) Page 11