Time Owed

by Debra Kayn

  She pulled back. "No, I mean, we need to talk about this arrangement of you working here, sleeping in my bed, and thinking you can kiss me whenever you want."

  "You never tell me no." He reached up and swiped his thumb across her lips wiping away the moisture. "You like my kisses."

  "Stop it." She clamped her lips together and exhaled loudly. "That's what I'm talking about. You can't go on acting like you own me."

  "Right." He stared at her clutched hands, her thumbs rubbing her worries in. "It's time for things to change."

  "Yes." She sighed. "It's not that I don't appreciate you being here. I do."

  He'd go on letting her believe she'd get her way. Until he talked to Cam and Jacko, set a plan into motion to take care of business with Reds, she could think whatever she wanted. He wasn't going anywhere, and he sure in the hell wasn't going to stop touching her.

  "Cam's coming over and Jacko's here. I'm going to take them down in the basement, so I can talk to them in private. If you need anything, ring my phone...it's programmed into your cell already" He hooked her hair behind her ear.

  She grabbed his wrist. "No. Not the basement."

  "I need someplace private, Desi."

  "You can use the office." She gave a shaky smile, which never reached her eyes.

  Her grief delayed his plans. With the new discovery about Reds in deep with Joe, things were going to change fast for her.

  She'd have to trust him, again. At thirteen years old, she'd come willingly to him when he spoke. At twenty-six years old, she'd give him hell. His chest filled in anticipation. Joe wasn't around to stop him. Desi had no choice but to bend and accept what he laid out for her.

  Cam walked in, spotted Jacko, and schooled his surprise over the added person at their meeting. Merk motioned them to the office in the back of the bar and closed the door. As the president of Moroad MC Cam needed to attend the talk.

  "Why did you drag me away from my woman?" Cam moved the wooden chair by the door and sat with a view if anyone interrupted them.

  Jacko sat on the edge of the desk. Merk remained standing. It'd be one less move he'd have to make toward Desi if she needed him.

  "Joe was paying Jerry Carlyle's debt to Reds with his winnings from his poker games," Merk said.

  Jack snorted. "He hasn't won since I got invited to the table."

  "Right, which means Reds hasn't seen a payment from Joe and will be looking for their money." Tension flowed throughout the room as Merk let the information sink in. "They'll try and extract their debt from Desi. That isn't going to happen, because I won't let them near her."

  "Is Desiree your property?" Cam leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees.

  The loaded question brought Moroad into the picture. If he claimed her, the club would protect her. If he let Desi have her independence, the only security she'd get would come from him. He gazed through the window in the door and a possessive hold came over him. Desi was more than property. She belonged to him.

  "Well?" Cam said.

  "She's been mine since she was thirteen years old and identified me as the man who killed her father. I spent twelve years of my life locked away while my sister—who I was responsible for, had a kid I didn't know about, fell into the black sand, and ultimately died." Merk lowered his voice. "Yeah, Desi's my property. She belongs to me."

  Jacko whistled long and low hearing the news.

  Cam sighed. "I've known you since we both joined Moroad. Only one time you disappointed me and I second-guessed if you had my back. Ultimately, you walked out of prison and did exactly what I demanded from you. You followed through with the club and took the punishment."

  Merk held still, accepting Cam's opinion. He'd gone against his president and tried to help Christina. His decisions almost cost him his life. He made no excuses and swore off alcohol the minute after he'd shot Cam and got arrested for a separate crime he never committed.

  "If you want to protect Desiree, then the club's behind you." Cam stroked his beard. "My concern is about the risk of jeopardizing the extortion money coming in. We endanger our income; we put our freedom at risk."

  "I understand, but Desi belongs to Moroad. We can't sit back and let Reds have an inch or they'll take us backing off as they're gaining power. We can't upset the balance we've retained over the years. It's not fair to our MC brothers in prison or on the outside." Merk took out a pack of cigarettes, passed it around the room and together, they all walked out of the building to the sidewalk.

  Thirty seconds into sucking down a hit of nicotine, Merk continued. "I'll lay down the law tonight with Desi. Far as she'll know, I'm offering her my protection. She needs to know what Reds are capable of."

  "You're not going to tell her you killed her father?" Cam raised his brows. "What if she remembers you from that night?"

  "She remembers, but she was thirteen years old. I've changed. My looks are different. Last time she saw me I had my head shaved after getting out of prison and no visible tats."

  Cam studied him. "You never had that scar halfway down your face."

  Merk fingered the mark. It'd been years since he thought about the knife wound. His beard covered half of the scar.

  "If you need us, everyone will be hanging at the house tomorrow," Cam said.

  Merk looked over his shoulder at the bar. "Good. I'll bring Desi around. She does well around the other women. I'll let everything soak in tonight, and bring her with me tomorrow. I'm not giving her a chance in her current condition to fuck this up for us and do something stupid. The faster she realizes her life is now with me, the better."

  The rest of the night, he kept his distance from Desi. The customers came and went and she continued to talk and join in on the fun.

  He admired her strength. A strength that would end up getting her killed if she refused to believe his warning. Reds wouldn't back away. She'd end up dead, and the thought of being without her or letting something happen to her nearly crippled him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The light on the end table glowed off the wood paneled walls of Desiree's apartment. Merk sat on her couch, his arm laid over the back cushion. Desiree closed the front door and hid how normal seeing Merk in her apartment had become for her. She'd let the situation of him staying with her go for too long.

  All day she'd thought about the different ways she could give him the news that he needed to leave without cheapening what he'd done for her. Her skin prickled and she rubbed her hands together. Every time she came up with a believable excuse to use, she berated herself for being a bitch.

  He'd done more for her than anyone. It wasn't easy for her to let others help her and without asking, he'd done exactly what she'd needed. Because of him, she woke up looking forward to working. She could sit through a television show and not lose concentration. There were times she accepted Pop's death and believed she'd be okay.

  Having ignored the comfort his presence gave her for too long, she needed to face the truth. She had no idea how to proceed, only that she needed to stand on her own two feet.

  "I see you've made yourself at home," she said, slipping off her shoes.

  Relief came instantly and she sat down in the oversized armchair opposite the couch. Merk remained quiet, studying her. At first, his constant observations wigged her out. Then somewhere between having sex with him at the lake and tonight, she found comfort in having him around looking out for her. Nevertheless, unless he spelled things out for her, he needed to go and stop playing with her emotions.

  The feelings overwhelming her lately frightened her. She could easily lose her heart to a man who seemed dedicated to taking care of her and slept in her bed at night. He had no obligation to stick around and had yet to explain how he felt about her, besides him wanting her.

  He held her. He showed her affection, and he was always touching and kissing her. But, he hadn't tried to have sex with her once in three months and one day, not that she was counting.

  Okay, she counted.


  "I wanted to thank you for sticking around after Pop..." She shrugged. "It meant a lot to know you were available at the bar. I don't want my decision going forward to reflect on how much I appreciate all your help. But..."

  "Spit it out, Desi," he said.

  She sighed. "I'm trying to tell you."

  "Then say what you want to say."

  "Pop hired you for a security job. He was overprotective, in a good way." She swallowed the lump of emotions creeping up on her anytime she said Pop's name. "I'm going to let you go. I need to hire someone, maybe two people, to help serve. I can't keep doing full fifteen-hour days by myself. Because I need to hire someone else, I can't afford to keep paying you your wages. There's no need for a security guard at Rail Point. I think after all this time and having no problems arise at the bar that you can understand my position. I'm confident now that I'm feeling better I can handle the bar and call the sheriff if a situation gets out of my control."

  Merk mouth twitched. Her body warmed at recognizing a smile from the normally serious man. She sat straighter, suddenly doubting her plan. He could easily talk her into letting him stay.

  Afraid he'd call her bluff, she anted up the pot.

  "I'll give you a week's worth of severance pay as a thank you for staying with me, too," she added, kicking herself the moment the words left her mouth. Money was tight. She'd stayed away from the pool table lately and the lack of customers after Pop's death meant less income coming in.

  "Are you fucking serious?" Merk crooked his finger and motioned her to come to him. "Get over here."

  "Why?"

  His gaze intensified. She waited him out. Her heart hammered in her chest, heightening her doubts. Finally, she stood and walked over to the couch. He grabbed her hand, drawing her to the coffee table in front of him.

  His thighs encompassed her legs, trapping her in front of him. His eyes were cold and clear. She dropped her gaze to his lips and exhaled in relief. His mouth remained soft. She inhaled the slight scent of smoke mixed with musk, and knew instantly it came from his hair. The highly contagious combination distracted her from the serious conversation.

  When he stayed beside her, she felt safe. She couldn't describe the comfort she received looking in his eyes. He hypnotized her. Deep down inside of her, she recognized his intent. It never wavered. He looked out for her, and she'd miss him when he no longer worked for her.

  As she met his eyes once more, his pupils darkened. She felt a punch of desire and an almost delirious pleasure. After being dead to the world, missing Pop, wallowing in self-pity and generally hating her circumstances, her reaction to Merk took her by surprise.

  "I need you to listen without interrupting me," Merk said.

  Warning bells clanged. She pulled against his hold. He threaded his fingers with hers, refusing to let her go.

  "First off, I'm working for you for free. Don't fucking pay me, unless you want me to treat you like a whore and make sure you know why I'm earning the money." Merk squeezed her hands when her mouth came open. "We had sex and unfortunately, having sex again got pushed to the side because Joe died. You need to keep living life and that includes picking up where we left off."

  She shook her head. Even though her insides fluttered at his suggestion, she refused to move on. "I can't—"

  "You will." His thumb stroked the back of her hands. "Get used to me, because I'm moving in with you permanently."

  "No way," she muttered, shaking his hands away.

  He pressed his legs into hers, keeping her from standing up and calling the police to come and get him out of her apartment. She needed someone to help her convince him to go. He outtalked her and argued against everything she said.

  "Us being together would've happened eventually, but I'm moving things forward. You need to know what's going on. Joe wasn't only playing poker games on the side, Desi. He had some bad people putting pressure on him. In exchange, he made payments to a gang going by the name Reds. Do you remember seeing any Latino men stopping by?"

  She shook her head. Bad men?

  "Those men will be back now that Joe isn't paying them, and they'll expect you to hand over money, or worse. I won't let that happen, Desi."

  "What do you think will happen to me?" She flopped her hands against the top of her thighs. "None of this makes sense. It's like you've concocted some asinine story to freak me out about staying alone. I'm okay running this place by myself."

  "Not if you're dead." He stood up from the couch.

  Impulsively, she caught his arm. She flinched at the tension tightening his face. A shiver crawled up her spine.

  "What do you mean if I'm dead?"

  "There are four main groups inside prison. Moroad—career criminals, Blues—a black gang, Reds—Latinos, and Los Li—part of the Mexican Mafia. Right now, Moroad Motorcycle club controls the movements inside the prison and on the outside. We've delegated a way to keep the groups quiet and remain in control."

  "That has nothing to do with me," she said.

  "Yeah, it does. Earlier, Hank let it slip that Joe was paying off Reds on an old debt your father owed them. I've had enough experience to know Reds will come looking for payment, and they'll extract it from you." Merk sat back down on the couch.

  His hand skimmed her leg. Heat crackled up her body and she gasped. "What kind of debt?"

  "I don't know." Merk hooked her neck. "That's why it's important for Reds to know you're my woman. You're Moroad property, and that'll protect you."

  A buzz began in her head. Her muscles strung tight, she wanted to run away from the information. "I knew something was going on," she whispered.

  Pop had hid something from her for months, and she'd thought he'd had health problems. His gambling losses, his need to play more games, and inviting new people to the poker table, it all made sense if he needed to make extra money. She slouched over and put her head in her hands. Pop hired Merk to keep the bad men away.

  "Damn him." She lifted her head. "I hope he's rotting in hell."

  Merk leaned closer, surprise registering in his eyes. "Joe?"

  She shook her head and stood. Anger flowed through her body and she wanted to punch something. "My dad."

  Merk rubbed his hand over his lower face. "I'm not following."

  "My dad did this to Pop." She threw her hands to her sides. "God, I hate him."

  "Desi..." Merk stood.

  "No, you don't understand. My dad is dead. The son of a bitch got himself killed after the last time he brought bad men to the bar. I know this has something to do with him. Maybe drugs or I don't know, gambling. Whatever happened Pop tried to protect me, again. He always tried to keep me away from my dad's anger and delusions. What am I supposed to do now?"

  "First, calm down." Merk pressed his hands down on her shoulders. "I'm going to help you and make sure nobody gets any more money from you and you're safe. I need a few days to learn more, and I'll make it known that you belong to me and have the protection of the club."

  She stared at him in silence. Her heartbeat roared in her ears as the truth settled down around her. "That's why you've stayed..."

  His eyes darkened and his energy changed. She leaned closer, feeling the darkness roll off him, and willingly admitting she wanted him to stay near her. She inhaled deeply, drinking him in, absorbing his presence. She could barely breathe.

  He picked up her hand and placed her palm on his chest. "All you need to know right now is I'll keep you safe."

  She pulled away abruptly. Her head screamed. He stared back. Unspoken words surged between them. Things she couldn't explain and yet understood, because having him here meant more than protecting her. Drawn to him, not only physically, she could put no reason to why she wanted him to stay.

  If fear had a name, it'd be Merk. Yet, she trusted him. God help her, she trusted him to keep her safe from the men her dad brought into her life, until she could finally walk away and never have another worry that they'd come back and kill her.

  "Merk—
" Overwhelmed, her voice caught.

  "I'm staying. I'm not going anywhere," he whispered. "Just know I'm no longer going to lie beside you in bed, waiting for you to get your head on straight. You're going to be fine and it's time for you to start your life."

  "I know," she whispered back.

  "You belong to me and that means your body, day and night, and you're head, always."

  Her eyes burned. Need throbbed painfully through her body. Reaching her breaking point, she gravitated toward him, hooking her pinky through his and relieved when he grabbed her hand and held on.

  "That's it, Desi," he whispered against her ear. "You do what I say and I'll protect you."

  She closed her eyes, comforted by the promise. The widening rift deep inside her, planted by her father, seemed to grow and swell until she clung desperately to Merk, trying to save herself.

  In spite of her desire, fear coiled tighter, heating her stomach.

  He slid his hand around the back of her neck and lowered his head, angling his face, and feathered her lips with his.

  "Missed this," he murmured against her.

  Heat exploded inside her, warming a path from her heart down between her legs. It was delicious, consuming, and the danger of inviting Merk into her life excited her. She wound her arms around his neck.

  He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She pressed against him harder, desire blinding her to the panic waiting at the edge of her mind. His tongue slipped into her month, tasting, devouring her, and she took everything as hunger consumed her.

  His rough whiskers a constant reminder of who held her. She moaned, urgent for more to wipe out everything she'd heard tonight. Desperate to claim the feelings Merk gave her and push away the fear threatening her and the bar, she tore at his vest until the jean material fell to the floor.

  Merk hooked the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Then, he whipped his shirt off and she removed her bra. Heat rushed from his chest. She leaned against him, panting through her arousal of touching him skin to skin.

  Dizzying flashes of light filled her vision. She licked his shoulder as he pulled down her jeans and panties in one swipe. A moan erupted deep in her chest when he stepped back and removed his boots, his jeans, and came back to her.