Running With the Devil

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Running With the Devil Page 14

by Lorelei James


  “Drake—”

  “Let me finish.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I’ve had to make some tough decisions, but I’ve always felt they were the right ones at the time. Tonight is no exception. I had no choice. I know you don’t understand. I know you’re hurt that I didn’t do a damn thing to stop those bastards.”

  Frustration sent him pacing. Finally he stopped, threw his hands in the air and said, “Fuck! I’m sorry, okay? It’s my job and it sucks but if I had to do it over again, I’d probably do the same thing. And I have to live with that unpleasant fact about myself every goddamn day. I also have to live with the haunted look in your eyes and know that my decision put it there.”

  Kenna couldn’t speak she was so stunned. It wasn’t that Drake didn’t have a protective streak; it just didn’t matter as much as his pursuit of justice. The anguish in his eyes was real. Why did she have the urge to go to him, wrap her arms around him and murmur reassuring words when she was the one who’d been hurt?

  Because he was hurting too. Despite everything he’d done, everything he was, she’d fallen for him.

  Oh shit. She’d never been in worse trouble in her life and it had nothing to do with the IRS, the local cops, her academic standing or the low balance in her checking account.

  Her heart started racing like a jackrabbit caught in a snare. And just like that scared little rabbit, she turned and ran.

  Of course, Drake, being predatory in nature, only let her get about ten feet before he cornered her. He wrapped his arm around her middle, bringing her body flush with his.

  Softness met hardness.

  She withheld a moan as lust slammed into her like a rockslide.

  His chin dug into the place where neck met shoulder and his deep voice reverberated in her ear. “Remember what happened the last time you ran from me?” He set his teeth on the tender skin of her nape, knowing it’d drive her wild.

  Chills started in that sensitive spot and spread. She moaned, automatically pressing her backside into him.

  Drake flipped her around. Locked her so tightly against his body she couldn’t breathe. Took her mouth in a kiss so hot and needy she wondered why she hadn’t crumbled into ashes from the heat of it.

  Her knees went weak. She clung to him even as she undulated against the hard bulge in his jeans.

  “Oh yeah. I want that wild woman who was in my bed last night.”

  He doesn’t want the real you, her subconscious whispered, he wants the illusion.

  Reality intruded. Outraged at the traitorous rush of moisture between her legs, Kenna bit him.

  He reared back. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because I just remembered I fucking hate you.”

  Drake’s dark expression softened. His hand shook as he lifted it to trace wispy touches along her jaw. “No, you’ve got that backwards. You’d hate it if I didn’t fuck you.”

  She stared at him, at a loss because she knew he was completely right.

  “This thing between us scares me too. And not just because someone was shooting at us. Or because you were mugged.”

  The uncertainty in his eyes sealed her fate. She wanted him. His powerful body reminded her of the spontaneous heat generated between them. She could deny them the pleasure or enjoy it.

  Not a difficult decision.

  Maybe she had an exhibitionist streak after all because she didn’t care about anything beyond being with Drake.

  “I’d forgotten you were the kiss and make up type. Okay. Let’s do it. Right here, right now.”

  “Are you serious? Right here?”

  “You got a better idea?”

  “Hell yes.” He grabbed her hand and made a mad dash for the backside of the campsite. Miscellaneous broken motorcycle parts were strewn across the grease-stained tarp beside the tent, giving the appearance the spot was occupied.

  Kenna stopped. “What are we doing here?”

  “You’ll see.” He led her toward the low-slung motorcycle behind the tent, kicking aside empty beer cans. “Climb on.”

  “Why? We going for a ride?”

  Drake faced her. “The only thing I’m gonna ride, Kenna, is you.”

  Every cell in Kenna’s body revved into high gear.

  Before she asked another question, his mouth came down on hers. He ate at her lips, suckled her tongue and peeled the halter down to her hips.

  Strong fingers pinched her nipples, rolling, tugging the tips until it felt like he’d unearthed a secret electric link between her breasts and her pussy.

  Kenna traced the delineated lines of his abdomen, reaching past the waistband to his belt. A quick tug and the buckle gave way. Another yank and the buttons popped. Her fingers met coarse hair, then the solid reality of him. Her palm brushed the plump head, spreading the moisture seeping from the tip down the length.

  He sucked in a harsh breath through his nose and kissed her harder.

  His cock twitched as she alternated featherlight touches with firm strokes. She dropped kisses on the shadow beneath his chin and murmured, “You smell good.”

  “Ah. Christ that feels good.” He widened his stance.

  The almost delicate skin surrounding such pure male hardness amazed her. Oh yeah. He was definitely hot, hard and ready. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips until they parted. She left him like that, his mouth hanging open as she hiked up her skirt and dropped to her knees.

  Without preamble she opened her mouth and swallowed him.

  Some incoherent sentence burst from him.

  Kenna sucked his cock. Her hands caressed his balls. She kept her eyes locked on his while deep-throating him.

  “No,” he sputtered, jerking her to her feet and hauling her into his arms.

  She hid her face against his broad chest. Why was his heart racing and his breathing uneven if he hated it so much? “Sorry, I thought you’d like it.”

  Drake tipped her chin up. “I loved it. You can do it later, as much as you want for as long as you want. But when it happens, I want to look in your eyes, not colored contacts. When I’m ready to explode from the mind blowing sensation of that wanton mouth taking all of me deep, I’ll be grasping your hair, not a damn wig.”

  His words were a balm to her soul.

  “The first time I come with you tonight won’t be in your mouth, Kenna.”

  Her own mouth dropped open in shock.

  He took advantage of her lapse in concentration and quickly kissed her. His soft hair tickled her collarbone as he angled his head closer. “Let me taste you. Lift your skirt.”

  “Drake—” The words died when he dropped to his knees. Callused fingertips yanked aside the flimsy barrier of her underwear. Then his mouth was on her, nibbling her clit, licking the juices from her wet folds. Swirling his tongue in figure eights. Jamming it high inside her until she started to shake and whimper.

  His tongue made another thorough pass from where she was soaked and aching to that forbidden area no man had breached. Little expert flicks of the stiffened tip of his wet tongue on that spot made her clench her thighs and everything else.

  After one final decisive lick, he stood.

  “God. I want you naked. But I need you, like now, so this’ll have to do.” Drake clamped his strong hands around her hips and lifted her.

  After a surprised shriek, she tried to wrap her legs around his waist to catch her balance.

  “Tempting. But those killer legs are gonna be hugging the motorcycle this time, not me.”

  “Yeah? Where are you going to be?”

  “Right behind you.”

  Drake set her on the bike and faced her forward. The night-cooled leather seat stung her bare skin and the shock sent a current straight up her center, from her belly to her breasts to the top of her scalp.

  “Put your feet on the back pegs.”

  Kenna glanced down in confusion. She saw the six-inch metal bars that stuck out on either side of the bike. She wiggled her foot until the middle of her high-heeled shoe was firm ag
ainst the rungs. Looking up at Drake for approval, her breath caught.

  Jeans undone, muscular arms crossed over his chest, hair mussed, eyes dark and needy, he resembled some pagan god, waiting for his due. Waiting for her to surrender to his every whim.

  She shivered in anticipation and prepared to give in.

  His hand meandered up her arm. “Grab the handlebars, hot stuff.”

  Kenna had to stand on the pegs to reach the chrome ends of the chopper-style grips, forcing her ass up in the air. Her nipples briefly brushed the cold metal gas tank, puckering them into aching points.

  “Beautiful,” he said thickly. “Don’t move.”

  She watched as he took a condom out of his back pocket, ripped it open and rolled it down. He straddled the bike behind her. With his long legs and the low angle of the seat, he had no problem keeping his boots on the ground.

  He traced the thin line of the black thong and groaned, “Goddamn you have the best ass on the planet. I’d like to take you here too.” He wiggled closer, sending the bike swaying from side to side. “I want what you’ve never given another man.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. Their fiery gazes met across her body, nothing mattered besides putting out the inferno raging inside her.

  “Stop the running commentary and fuck me,” she said.

  Those sinful lips curled in a carnal grin. He scooted back on the bike and pressed on her lower pelvis until the back of her legs chafed against denim. The head of his cock circled her opening, spreading the wetness.

  Drake slid in an inch at a time, then halfway, then he slammed all the way to the hilt.

  Kenna cried out from the rush of the ultimate hedonism—her lover so hot for her he’d do anything to ensure her ultimate satisfaction. She didn’t care if the whole damn campground came running to see who was making the racket.

  In. It. Out. Felt. In. So. Out. Fucking. In. Good. Out. She rocked her hips back, meeting each forceful thrust, wanting, needing more.

  “Stop. Too fast.” He pushed back inside her slowly. In this position, the entire length from tip to thick root ground against the inside wall, making her gasp at the decadent pleasure. The wet sucking sounds of their lovemaking bounced off the tent and ricocheted back to them as an erotic echo.

  “Right there. Harder, God, don’t stop,” she said on a long rush of air.

  “You are so tight and wet. You feel so fucking perfect. I’ll never get enough of you. Of this.” He plowed into her so hard she swore she felt the tip of his cock in her throat.

  Deep, fast strokes sent her breasts swaying and tingles sizzling across her skin. A soft breeze drifted across her face and she lifted her head to cool the sweat from her brow.

  The fingers on his left hand dug into her hip, holding her in place as he took her as hard and fast as he wanted. He released his right hand to feather his fingertips across her right butt cheek. The rough pad of his thumb slowly traced the crack of her ass down to where his cock pumped in and out. He swirled it in her juices and then slid it back up to brush against her rear opening.

  Her breath caught at the foreign sensation, remembering how sinfully good it felt when his tongue had ventured there. But she automatically stiffened up.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t like this, you don’t want this. I’ll give you a little preview, hot stuff, of what I’d like to do to you. This will blow your mind.”

  A rush of heat flashed from head to toe. How did this man tap into the secret dark desires she’d been afraid to explore?

  He drew circles with her wetness around the sensitive knot of nerves. With each pass, that wicked thumb probed a little more. Then his hand shifted and he pushed a thick finger past the tight ring completely.

  “Omigod.” She closed her eyes to savor the full feeling and the absolute mastery this man had over her body.

  Using gentle, shallow strokes, he pumped his finger, and his balls slapped against her throbbing pussy with every delectably strong thrust of his pelvis.

  The mingled scents of sex, dust and motorcycle grease surrounded them, the ultimate aphrodisiac.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he growled, pistoning faster and faster. His hips pounded until a satisfied grunt burst forth from him.

  Kenna clamped down with her interior muscles as Drake started to come violently. Then she did something she’d never done with another lover; she dropped her hand to her clit and rubbed her clit vigorously while he pulsed and plunged and throbbed inside every part of her.

  The combination sent her rocketing to an orgasm so intense she stopped breathing and her vision went dim.

  Vaguely, after the white flash behind her eyes cleared and the pulsating in her lower body dwindled, she felt drops of Drake’s sweat dripping on her back. Her toes were cramped and her legs shook like she’d run a marathon. Not only that, her boobs were smashed against the gas tank and her not-so-small ass was hiked up and bared to the world. Instead of instant mortification, she felt…well and truly fucked.

  His satisfied sigh wrapped around her heart.

  Normally she hated making love from behind, but there wasn’t anything normal about the way Drake March made love. Kenna had the urge to howl her pleasure like a well-sated bitch.

  Drake kissed his way up her spine. He gently bit her shoulder. His hot, stuttered breath flowed across her damp nape as a lover’s caress. Leisurely, he withdrew from her body and whispered, “And to think before this I never understood the appeal of owning a motorcycle.”

  Kenna snickered. She nuzzled her cheekbone to the side of his face, her breath tickled his lips. “Does that make us official members of the…what is the equivalent of the ‘mile high club’?” She snickered again. “The ‘low riders’ club?”

  “Mmm,” he mumbled against the tempting hollow below her ear. “Maybe it should be the ‘easy riders club’?”

  Her breath hitched when he sunk his teeth into that bit of salty flesh near her throat, just feminine enough to stir his dick again.

  “Nothing ‘easy’ about the way you rode me, Drake.”

  His wandering mouth stilled. With the way she’d screamed and thrashed, and bucked against him, he’d assumed she’d loved it hard and rough. Loved pushing her limits. Maybe not. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  He paused. “Good. I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  She attempted to pull away. He held fast. “This was spectacular, but aren’t Geo and Bobby waiting for us?” With awkward, stiff movements, she jerked at the pink and black lace contraption bunched around her middle.

  While ordering his thoughts, Drake gently tugged at the back of the garment, helping her set it right. “Are you worried what they might think?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m more worried that I’m developing a split personality. One minute you’re threatening me and the next I’m letting you bang my brains out. You probably always do stuff like this.”

  Calm man. Stay calm. “You think this is a normal day at the office for me? That I screw every woman who crosses my path in a case?”

  She scooted off the bike. “You had condoms in your pocket! What am I supposed to think?”

  Breathe. Don’t yell. “You sure didn’t mind I stuffed those rubbers in my pocket about five minutes ago.” He threw his leg over the seat and stood beside her.

  “You conceited jerk!”

  “Look. I grabbed them from the freebie table in the demo room, all right? I didn’t come here tonight planning to fuck you on the back of a motorcycle.” He rested his forehead to hers. “I don’t blame you for getting freaked out. But you’ve got to know I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Surprisingly Kenna didn’t squirm away. “Like what? Showing me your prowess in the ‘low riders’ club? Or getting involved with an informant?”

  “Both.”

  She leaned back and looked up at him, her expression not skeptical, just curious. “Really?”

  “Really. I’m all about the job, Kenna. I might bend the rules
from time to time, but I don’t break them because that wouldn’t make me any different from the guys I’m trying to catch.” He had to touch her to ground himself for the remainder of this strange admission. One hand framed her face; the other skated down her smooth arm, to thread their fingers together. Amazing how perfectly they fit in so many ways. “I’m sure you’ve realized I’m not some smooth talkin’ ladies man that has lines and lies for every occasion.”

  “You talked me out of my panties quick enough.”

  Drake grinned. “Good point. You’re the exception, not the rule.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  He held her and she let him. The strains of “Under Pressure” drifted on the night breeze. He wanted to be long gone by the time the concert ended and the traffic nightmare started.

  “I’ll signal Bobby and Geo that we’re ready to go.”

  “Then are you taking me home?”

  “Do you want to go home?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He was so bad at this stuff. His heart skipped a beat when he asked her softly, “Stay with me tonight?”

  “Because I’m in danger and people were shooting at me?”

  “I think you’re in the clear now.” He paused, bracing himself for her rejection. “I want you to stay with me out of pure selfishness. I’d like to make love to you again,” before I have to leave you.

  “Hmm. Guess that depends. Are you going to handcuff me?”

  “No.”

  “Can I handcuff you?”

  Drake shivered at the thought of Kenna having that much power over him. She already had enough.

  She laughed. “Okay. No cuffs. But you aren’t the only one who picked up a little something in the demo room.”

  When she refused to tell him exactly what she’d bought, he shivered again. The unknown was almost worse.

  Maybe he ought to reconsider the cuffs.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Geo and Drake conversed in low tones in the front seats while Kenna stayed in the back with Bobby. She was grateful Bobby paid little attention to her as he meticulously packed his equipment.

  She needed time to sort through the emotions that were as tangled and tenuous as the slim black wires in Bobby’s hands. Eyes squeezed shut, she slumped into the cushioned seat. Her mind wandered, her fingers fiddled with the straps on her purse.

 

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