My finger slipped over the top of her clit, finding it plump with blood and hot as a furnace. Slickness coated my dick, and when I slipped a finger inside her I found that she was fucking soaked. Christ, I had to get inside her. I wanted all that cream surrounding my dick. Growling, I flipped her around. "Do exactly as I say," I growled again, taking her hands and bringing them above her head. "Don't move them." I said against her ear, arranging her palms flat against the tile.
I stepped back so that I had a better view of her body. As my gaze raked along her graceful back to where it tapered down to twin mounds of quivering flesh, possessiveness slammed through me and I knew that I wanted her for myself. I clenched my teeth with the need to bite into those enticing globes, using my hands to claim her instead. Her barely audible sigh was my reward when I squeezed and parted her cheeks, my eyes narrowing on the little star nestled between the crack.
Fucking hell! I put a hand on my dick and gave it a hard squeeze and a couple of good rubs to ease the pain that it was in. All it did was take me closer to release. I leaned against Ginger, kissing the side of her neck and running my mouth along the curve of her shoulder. "I need to fuck you, angel. I can't wait." That was the only warning I gave her before I gripped her hips and pulled the bottom half of her body away from the wall.
The arch of her perfect ass invited me to lose control. I moved the head of my dick back and forth in her slit against her labia, lining it up to the fucking gates of heaven. One plunge and I was buried balls deep. Her soft cry drowned out my hiss. Once I began to move, my hands glided up her torso to cup and squeeze her tits.
I closed my eyes, nearly overwhelmed by the sensation. In all of my years of fucking, I couldn't remember having ever felt the sweet intensity that I did every time I sank inside Ginger's pliant body. She was so responsive. The sound of her soft moans and the thrust of her body meeting mine revealed her pleasure. I glanced down and watched my dick disappear into her wet pussy, watched the erotic bounce of her ass when I slammed into her. I picked up speed, groaning loudly when the fullness in my balls began to ache.
Ginger's breathing came faster, indicating that her level of arousal was rising. I reached for her clit and flicked it, wanting her to come with me. Before long we were racing for the finish line. I was the one with experience and I played her body against her, knowing what it would take to get her off. I manipulated her clit and kept pounding into her, hard and fast.
"Put some cum on my dick, angel," I rasped into her ear before giving it a nip. She quivered, releasing a whimper. I ran my tongue up the side of her neck, and then turned her face toward me so I could take her lips. The tingle in my spine told me that I was about to shoot my load. I pinched Ginger's little clit, sending her over the edge at the same time that the first squirt of my seed released. "Fuucck!" I snarled, losing control. "Milk my dick, baby!"
"Oh! Oh!" Ginger cried out, convulsing around my dick.
I held her tightly against me, letting her tightness milk every last drop of cum from me. Her little shudders kept us both on the edge of pleasure until we gradually succumbed to the orgasmic, blissful satisfaction that usually came afterwards. It occurred to me that I was crushing Ginger against the wall, and I stepped back reluctantly. My dick slipped from her body to hang limp and dripping between my thighs.
I turned toward the water and quickly cleaned off. "You have a couple of minutes to wash," I said with my hand on the shower door. "I'm going to get some clean towels and some clothes for you."
"You're leaving me?" she asked, and there was no hiding the fear in her tone.
I glanced back to see the panic in her widened eyes. "I'll be right back."
"But‒"
"Relax." I understood what her fears were. Hell, they were the same fears that I had. Neither of us wanted Wildman or his brothers to get their hands on her. They'd ruin her, maybe even kill her. The thought made me sick. I had to get her out of there before it was too late. "I'll lock the door behind me."
I shut the door before she could say anything else.
Chapter 6
Ginger
Present
With my arms wrapped tightly around Rebel I could feel that he was still as hard and muscular as he'd been four years before. I’d never thought I would see him again, I’d never thought that I'd find myself on the back of his bike, yet there I was, using his huge body as a shield against the wind as he took me home. Who was I trying to fool? I liked the feel of him, I always had, and I closed my eyes and let myself remember. That turned out to be a mistake. All it did was start a pleasant tingle in my nether regions when I recalled how hot the sex had been between us.
That had been then, and this was now. He wasn't here for sex. He'd hunted me down for the money that I'd stolen from him. I was glad in a way, because now I knew that Wildman and the Red Devils were no more. I wondered if I'd go to hell for being glad. They'd been evil men. It hadn't taken me long to determine that Rebel had been a different caliber of man once he'd helped me get away, and I would have waited for him, as he'd instructed, if things had been different.
Within ten minutes we were pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex and coming to a stop in front of my building. Rebel helped me dismount, and I removed the helmet he'd insisted I wear as he got off his huge, powerful Harley. In spite of the poor lighting I could see that he was taking in his surroundings. I wasn't going to apologize for the shabby look of the place, it was what it was. The place was old, everything was painted beige, and the parking lot hadn't been paved in years. It was filled with potholes, and faded, the yellow lines marking the parking spots all but gone.
I bit my lip to keep from telling him that the inside looked better. Della and I had furnished our apartments with thrift store and yard sale items, but we'd been discerning. It was amazing what people got rid of when they were tired of it. Thinking of Della, I wondered how she was feeling. She hadn't called as I'd asked her to.
"This area doesn't look very safe."
His comment pissed me off immediately and I swung back to him. "Look, I've been on the run since I left your apartment, and I do the best that I can. I choose to live here in order to save back the money I owe you. I knew if you were alive that you'd probably come looking for me one day. If you're worried about your precious bike, bring it inside. I live on the ground floor."
"Even safer," he scoffed sarcastically. "And watch your attitude, woman. I was simply stating the fucking obvious."
Watch my attitude? After the night I'd just been through? I was exhausted, numb, totally freaked by his presence there, and I was still coming down from the frightening experience of the attempted robbery. I had a right to have an attitude when, on top of everything else, he was criticizing where I lived. I took a deep breath to rein in my emotions and turned to walk away, reminding myself that I didn't really know Rebel.
I knew that he was behind me. I could hear the clomping of his heavy boots. When we reached my door I unlocked it and turned to him, noticing the satchel in his hand. "I'll be right back. I need to check on my friend." I'd forgotten how tall Rebel was. He was so close that I had to crook my neck to meet his eyes. I tried not to notice the intoxicating scent of his manly smell.
He raised a brow, hesitating from going inside my apartment. "A man?"
"That's none of your business." It would have been much easier to just tell him the truth, but his arrogance irked me.
"I'll go with you," he smirked.
"It's right there," I said, pointing at the door directly across from mine. "I won't be long." I took a step toward the other door when he grasped my arm and then I was pulled backwards against his hard form. I gasped, feeling his mouth against my ear.
"Has there been anyone else since me?"
Oh, God, a sudden inferno erupted inside me. I shivered at his nearness. No, there hadn't. "It's been four years, Rebel." Let him think what he wanted, I didn't owe him anything.
"That's not an answer," he said, his hand tightenin
g on my arm. "Yes or no."
I swallowed, unable to lie to him. "I don't know why it matters, but no, you're the only man I've ever been with." I had to get away from him before I made a fool of myself.
I could sense his relief. His hand uncurled, and I was free. I used my key and let myself into Della's apartment. Like mine, it was barely bigger than an efficiency. Della and I had the same taste in décor, we both liked color and miss-matched items that somehow came together. While she'd focused on bright yellows and greens, I'd gone with greens and lavender.
It didn't surprise me to find her apartment dark and quiet. I made my way to her tiny bedroom, turning on the hall light so I could see. I found Della's form in the middle of her bed, buried beneath a stack of blankets. "Della? Honey?" Low moans were my response. "How are you feeling?" I sat down on the edge of her bed.
She moaned again, but didn't move. "I hurt all over. And I've been throwing up."
"Oh, God. It sounds like the flu." I glanced around, not seeing any water or medication on the nightstand. "You need to drink lots of water." I got up and went to the kitchen. Flipping on the light switch, I removed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with the filtered water she kept in the fridge.
On the way back to the bedroom I stopped at the bathroom and dug through the medicine cabinet, but there was absolutely nothing in there for the flu. I did grab the aspirin to help with her aches and pains, and I snatched up the trashcan before returning to the bedroom. I sat back on the bed and put my hand on Della's forehead, not surprised to find that it was hot. "Here, honey, take these for your fever and aches." I shook out two pills.
She moaned in protest. "Please don't make me move."
I grinned. "You'll be glad that you did after these kick in. Now come on, suck it up."
She grumbled with irritation but gradually moved into a position where she could half sit up. "You're a cruel woman," she said, opening her mouth.
I slipped the aspirin inside and then held the glass of water against her lips. "Drink as much as you can. You're burning up." When she was done I set the glass aside and began pulling at the mound of blankets on top of her. "We need to remove a few of these, honey. At least until your temp drops, okay?"
There wasn't much she could do to stop me. By the time I was done I'd pulled off four blankets, leaving her with the sheet and light bedspread. I sighed, realizing that she was already halfway back to sleep. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on you, okay?" The smallest movement of her head indicated that she'd heard me. "The trashcan is also by your bed in case you need to throw up again and can't make it to the bathroom."
"Mmm."
I flipped off the hallway light, but decided to leave the one on in the kitchen, then made my way back to my own apartment. Rebel had left the door unlocked, but I locked it behind me. He was nowhere in sight, so I figured that he was in the bathroom. As I headed toward my bedroom I had to pass the bathroom and I could hear the shower running. He seemed to have made himself right at home. I was going to grab a quick shower when he was done, so I went to my bedroom for my pjs.
Inside I paused, looking down at the bed, shifting my thoughts to my small couch. He'd have to make it work, because there was no way he was sleeping in the same bed with me. It had been four years since I’d seen him last, and now he was a stranger to me. A lot could happen to someone in that much time, and there was a haunted look in Rebel's dark eyes that unnerved me. To make sure that there was no question about where he was sleeping I grabbed one of my pillows and the folded quilt at the foot of my bed and brought it out to the sofa.
The bathroom door opened and Rebel entered the room. I sucked in my breath, my gaze falling to his magnificent bare chest. I couldn't pull my eyes from the mouth-watering definition of his pecs and washboard abs. The muscles in his biceps flexed as he ran a towel over his head, but it was the thick muscle that created the deep 'V' down to his groin that held my interest. His jeans, which were molded to his thick, powerful thighs, were open, revealing a tuft of dark hair.
Holy hell, the man was tanned and ripped, even more than he'd been all those years ago, and that was saying a lot. His six-pack had turned into an eight-pack. Heat filled my cheeks, because my body was responding in a very wet-between-the-thighs, nipple-hardening-way. I realized that I was holding my breath and staring, but I couldn't look away. The man was beautiful, and I had no doubt that he had women falling all over themselves for a piece of him.
He cleared his throat and my gaze lifted to the knowing smirk on his mouth before meeting his eyes. He'd stopped rubbing his hair dry, and the look of hunger in his eyes sobered me up quick.
"Keep looking me over like that and I'll do something about it."
I swallowed, knowing what that something was. And he was so good at it. Unexpected fear rushed through me. I couldn't afford to get involved with Rebel, because I knew in the end that he would hurt me. I couldn't blame him for what had occurred between us in Wildman's clubhouse because he'd saved us both from death, me from much worse, but I had control over my life now.
I decided to ignore his comment, pointing down to the blanket and pillow. "This is where you sleep tonight." I grabbed my pjs, which were lying on top of the blanket, and headed his way. "There are leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry, maybe a beer or two. I'm getting a shower and going to bed."
"You're not going to eat?" he asked when I reached him.
I shook my head. "I'm too tired." It was the truth. I'd eat something when I woke up, hopefully a solid eight hours later. And then I reminded myself that I'd need to set my alarm to check on Della.
"We need to talk."
"If it's about your money I told you that I have half of it." I pivoted to go to the kitchen where I had it stashed. Once there, I opened the pantry cupboard and reached for the coffee can, and immediately sensed movement next to me. A glance out of the corner of my eye showed that Rebel had moved into the kitchen with me. He'd draped the towel around his neck, the loose ends hanging down over his pecs. I ignored his snort when I removed the lid and began to dig around in the grounds. "Here." I handed him the plastic baggie that contained the money.
He opened it up and removed the cash, counting it quickly. The eyes he turned on me were of stunned disbelief. "You're kidding me, right?" I didn't like the hard grit in his tone.
My gaze shot down to the money in his palm before darting back up to his. "There's almost two thousand dollars there," I said. Hadn't he heard me tell him that I'd only had about half?
His half-chuckle, half-snort sent warning signals through me. "What about the other thirty grand?"
My jaw dropped. "Thirty grand! I don't know what you're talking about!" I felt my heart slam in my chest, my eyes growing large. "I only took four thousand dollars!" Was this a joke? Rebel crossed his massive arms over his equally massive chest and glared at me skeptically. I could see that it was definitely not a joke. "Rebel, I swear, I only took four thousand." What could I do to convince him? He looked like he was ready to explode. No wonder he'd hunted me down.
"When I finally made it to my apartment that day I found you gone, and the money along with you." I shook my head with confusion as he spoke. "Kind of hard to believe you, angel."
"I-I didn't take it!" I insisted, hoping to wipe the intense look off his face, because it scared the hell out of me. And then I remembered why I'd run in the first place. "Wait--the Red Devils were there."
His brows shot up incredulously. "Convenient, wouldn’t you say?"
"It's the truth, Rebel. That's why I ran away. When they showed up at your apartment I snuck out a back window and went straight to the bus station. Look, I admitted to the four thousand. Don't you think if I'd taken more I would have told you? I've got no reason to lie. And I pay my debts, that's why I was saving up." I was getting angry, having to defend myself when I knew that I was telling him the truth.
"You've had four years to think up a good story."
I took a step closer in frustration, d
etermined to make him see the truth. "I'm telling you the truth," I said between my teeth. "There was only four thousand," I stressed, hoping that it would make a difference.
His eyes remained hard and unsympathetic. "So you want me to believe that you left the other thirty, and that the Red Devils took it?" he snorted. "Why should I believe you?"
"Because I . . . I," Why indeed? I was nobody to Rebel, and thirty thousand dollars was a lot of money. God, what was I going to do? He’d told me that the Red Devils were gone, but them taking it was the only thing that made any sense. They'd been there that day. Tears began to cloud my vision when I realized that there was nothing that I could say to answer his question. If the situation had been reversed, I probably would have come to the same conclusion as he had.
My shoulders slumped as I realized the futility of the situation. "It might as well be thirty million," I mumbled to myself. I'd never be able to pay Rebel back that kind of money. I raised my gaze to his. "Are you going to turn me in?"
"So you admit that you took it?"
"No! I'm not admitting to something that I didn't do, but I have no proof. I need to know-- are you going to turn me in?"
"Turn you in to whom?" he grunted.
"The police," I replied, thinking about all the horrors I'd heard told about what they did to a person in prison.
Rebel laughed, though there was little humor in it. "Why would I turn you in to the police? I'll never get my money back that way."
"What are you going to do then? It will take me forever to pay you back that kind of money."
He just stood there, staring at me. His expression gave nothing away, but I knew that he was thinking it over. I began to get nervous beneath his quiet stare, and I didn't like the way that his gaze dropped lazily down my body. He may as well have run a match down my body, because I was suddenly on fire, recalling how good his hands and mouth had felt on me. But if he thought I was going to pay him back with my body, he was going to be disappointed.
Ruthless (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 1) Page 5