by Ava May
“Peter!” Cain shouted, banging his fist on the back of the driver’s seat. “You idiot!”
“Sorry, sir!” a nasally voice answered. The van roared as it picked up speed, and the man shouted, “It’s your brother! His gang!”
“What?” Cain hissed, and he pulled himself up from his seat to peek past the seats and through the windshield. “Shit,” he cursed.
“Sir, what should I—”
“Drive,” Cain spit. “Get us out of here!”
Samantha held on for dear life as the van scraped the road in a sharp turn and barreled down the road. She could hear other motors, now. Louder and faster, whizzing by with ease.
“No!” Cain shouted. “Don’t let them—!”
With a crunch, the van bounced backwards before coming to a jerky stop. It’d obviously rammed into something, and Samantha looked up, wondering if anyone had been hurt.
If James had been hit.
Grabbing the door handle, she yanked the door open with a bang and shakily jumped out of the van. The ground was gravel, and she realized, belatedly, that they weren’t in the city anymore. They’d taken a turn somewhere, and ended up near the reserve on the edge of town.
“Samantha!”
She looked up, squinting against the harsh sunlight, hoping to see a skinny boy who shared her eyes. Her heart skipped when, instead, it was a tall man with long black hair and a blue stare calling out to her, running to her side.
“A-Abel,” she said, though she barely had time to get his name out before he was sweeping her up in a hug, his hands threading through her hair as he cradled her head.
“I saw the window,” he said softly, so only she could hear. “I thought…” he shook his head. “But you’re stronger than that.”
“You thought I’d jumped?” she said slowly, her confused frown turning into one of anger. “Because, what?” she said hotly, pushing him away. “Because you locked me in your penthouse? Or forced me to sign that marriage license?”
“Ah,” Cain said, climbing out of the van with a hand to his bleeding head. “I had wondered what you’d meant by ‘married’ you.”
“Andrew!” Abel scowled. “I should’ve known it was you!”
“Andrew?” Samantha asked, glancing at the shorter man.
“It’s Cain,” he demanded, his hands balling up into fists. “I’m the cursed—”
“Oh, not this shit again,” Abel rolled his eyes. “Look, Sam, I’m sorry about whatever this asshole has done to you, but—”
“What I’ve done? Oh no, brother,” Cain grinned. “You’ve done so much that she actually asked if I was her rescuer!”
“And just what are you doing with her, Andrew?” Abel sighed, turning to his brother.
“She’s mine,” he huffed, his face red. “I got her, fair and square, from her brother—”
“James doesn’t own her anymore,” Abel seethed. “And when I catch that little—”
“Enough!”
The two brothers turned to look at Samantha, both wearing the same stunned look on their blue-eyed faces.
“No one owns me,” she glared, pointing a finger at the two of them. Abel glanced at his brother, then took a step towards her, shrugging.
“My dear, if you remember—”
“You want my brother?” she said, exasperated. “Fine. Take him. But we both know that you don’t have men tailing him, or he wouldn’t have been able to break me out of your place. Which means that you’re happy with me,” she said, steeling herself. It was go big or go home at this point, and she’d have to test just where the line was with this guy if she wanted to get out of it. “Your brother told me,” she said sternly. “You’re in love with me.”
Abel’s blue eyes grew wider, and he turned a harsh look on Cain. “Andrew,” he growled.
“And if you want me and you to work at all? Then you’ll take me home,” she said, just barely keeping her voice even. “Right now.”
Abel couldn’t order his men to bring a car around fast enough.
He walked her up to her apartment, something she was just barely able to stand. It wasn’t that she thought he’d go back on his word and take her back to the penthouse instead (though, that was a lingering threat), but more how he couldn’t shut his mouth.
“It wasn’t real, I promise,” he said again for the fiftieth time. “The application was just to, well, convince you, I suppose.”
“Make me feel trapped,” Samantha said tiredly as she trudged up the stairs.
“Well, yes,” Abel nodded. “I didn’t plan to physically trap you, though. I’d planned to take you out when I got home tonight—”
“And keep me under your thumb until I got fired and had nowhere else to go anyway,” she finished for him.
“No,” Abel said, and his simpering tone finally changed into something with more backbone. “I called in for you.”
That made her pause. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You did?”
“Yes,” he said proudly. “I wasn’t about to completely overthrow your life. I just wanted to make it a part of mine,” he added feebly.
Samantha rolled her eyes as she looked back towards the front. How had she allowed such an eager to please bike boss rule her life for the past two days? He was completely wrapped around her finger.
“This is me,” she said, stopping at her door. “But then, you knew that.”
Abel didn’t answer, but said instead, “How about that dinner? It doesn’t have to be today,” he said quickly. “But, sometime.”
“And why would I,” she asked, sticking her key in the lock. “Go on a date with you?”
“I’ll stop the hunting party for your brother,” he promised.
Samantha frowned, and half-stepped into her apartment, hanging on the doorway. “Isn’t that a bit of an empty threat? You touch him, I hate you.”
“He still owes me money,” Abel said, and Samantha raised an eyebrow at the hand that he had moving around in his coat pocket. Was he fidgeting?
She sighed. “One date, and you never touch my brother again.”
“Deal,” he beamed at her. Samantha blinked back, immediately regretting her decision.
Chapter 4
“It’s Harley-Davidson.”
Samantha stared at the curved bike parked before her, the matt black color of it reminding her of the bat mobile. And just like that crazy contraption, she had no interest to get Abel’s motorcycle.
“Black, just like all my other bikes,” he boasted, patting the leather seat. “But this one is my favorite. It’s a V-rod, my heaviest bike at six hundred and sixty-six pounds. Goes from zero to sixty in three point fifty-nine seconds,” he said, snapping his fingers happily.
Samantha tried to ignore the fact that his bike weighed the same as the number of the beast, and instead focused on the helmets that he was holding under his arms. “Is one for me?” she asked, pointing to them.
“Oh, yes,” Abel smiled, and he tossed the red one to her. She barely caught it, and he chuckled. “I’ll be driving, so don’t worry.”
But that was exactly why she was worried. “Where are we going again?” she asked, not that Abel had told her even once.
“Somewhere special,” he promised. “Now, c’mere,” he said, climbing onto the bike. It barely moved under his weight, and he patted the small space of leather in between his thighs.
“Uh,” she said. “Don’t the extra passengers usually sit on the back?”
“Not on the V-rod,” he smiled. “Too easy to slip off.”
While it was true that the small curve of metal just after the indent of the seat was tiny, she still felt like Abel wasn’t being entirely honest. Sighing to herself, she pulled on the helmet and walked over.
She’d never ridden a motorcycle before, and she climbed onto it with numb legs and a shaky hand. Abel kept the bike steady, and he guided her gently into the place that he’d spread himself to make room for. “Ready?” he asked, his voice muffled from the helmet.
“Yup,” she called, grabbing onto the handlebars. Abel laughed and patted her hands towards the middle so that he could grip them properly, too.
Samantha had never liked motorcycles. How Abel had convinced her to ride his she didn’t know, and she had to force herself to stop thinking about the death rates and statistics. “Here we go!” Abel yelled, and with a flick of his wrist the engine roared to life. Samantha jumped, the vibration of the engine making her whole body thrum.
Knocking the kickstand up, Abel hollered something else, and then they were off.
Samantha quickly found herself clinging to the bike’s seat with her thighs, feeling oddly like a roller coaster rider without a safety bar. Her only consolation was Abel’s hard chest at her back, and she let gravity push her into him without a care, her reservations thrown out the window as they raced down the street.
“Lean left!” Abel suddenly yelled.
“What?” she called. But then the whole bike was falling, and she squeezed her eyes shut, and she allowed her body weight to shift to – of all things – the ground.
They rode like that for miles, and Samantha would’ve sworn that they’d spent an hour on the road, at least, when the bike’s engine finally hummed down low, and she could open her eyes again.
“Ta-da!” Abel announced, kicking the stand down as he let the bike sag onto it, parking them. He’d taken her to the city’s lake, just beneath the old oak tree. Perhaps it was just coincidence, but a woolen blanket was sitting a few feet away, right where she used to study during her senior year of college. Abel either didn’t notice her look of confusion or didn’t care, and he proclaimed, “A picnic under the stars!”
As if Samantha would have let him take her anywhere after dark. “It’s three in the afternoon,” she said, climbing off with a scowl. Abel just laughed, and helped her before getting off himself.
“Oh, almost forgot,” he snapped his fingers, turning back to the bike. Clicking a button, the seat flew up, and Abel pulled out a small cooler. “Hope you’re hungry,” he held it up.
Samantha held back an eye roll and walked over to the blanket, crossing her legs as she took a seat. Abel placed the cooler in the center, and dropped to the grass in a heap, his leather pants creaking as he moved.
“Okay,” he said, counting them off as he pulled them out. “We’ve got bruschetta, French bread, strawberries, watermelon…”
They were all her favorite snacks. “Abel,” Samantha said, looking up at him. “You’re kind of a stalker, aren’t you?”
“Sorry, is there something wrong with asking a friend what his sister would like to eat?” he replied innocently.
“You and James aren’t friends,” she said dryly.
“Better friends then enemies,” he winked, smiling.
“So,” she said, watching as he took a paper plate and set to cutting up the bread. “What’s your endgame, in all of this?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes on the knife in his hands.
“You know,” she said. “Me.”
Abel stopped, and looked up. “I love you,” he said simply. “I want to do whatever you’d like until death takes one of us.”
That again. Samantha huffed, and crossed her arms. “Abel—”
“I know,” he said, waving her off as he got back to work. “I’ve heard it all before, in my own head. ‘How could you like someone you haven’t even met?’ ‘You don’t even know her.’” With every word, he was slamming the knife against the bread, yanking the slices off to drop them onto the blanket. “But I do know you,” he said gruffly, taking a plate. He laid out three pieces of bread and put a spoonful of the red bruschetta mixture on each. “I know all about you.”
“But not from me,” she said, awkwardly accepting the plate.
“No,” he agreed. “But from someone who knows you just as well as you do.”
“Yeah?” she asked, tearing into a slice. “And what did James have to say about me? That I’m easily manipulated?” She hadn’t talked to her brother since he’d tried to sell her out to both Wood brothers.
“That you’re kind,” he said, putting the knife down to pick up the box of strawberries. “That it’s not that you can’t turn away someone in need, it’s that you won’t.” Sighing to himself, Abel shrugged, and said, “The girl that your brother described… Well, I couldn’t help falling in love with her.”
“I’m not perfect, you know,” she grumbled.
“Oh, that much I do know,” he grinned. “You’re quiet, when you’re unsure of your situation. And submissive – not at all like the fiery woman that your brother had assured me you were.” Sliding over to Samantha’s side of the blanket, he said, “All this I learned on my own, and I welcome all of it.”
“Even though I’m not fiery?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you kidding?” he asked, bending his head near her ear. “You’re too hot for me to even begin to handle.”
Samantha tried to ignore the way that Abel’s hot breath puffed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine, but it was impossible. How long had it been since a man had paid her compliments? Since someone had noticed her rather than her body – pudgy and flabby and entirely too gross for someone to deal with.
And yet, Abel was fit. He was tall and muscular – hell, the man was sexy, especially on that deathtrap of a motorcycle. And, for some reason or another, he wanted her.
“You know,” Samantha said, turning her head to tell him off, but Abel moved first.
He kissed her, a light peck on the lips that made her blink. His blue eyes had her in a trap, and she didn’t move away, something he seemed to take as a good sign. He kissed her again, a deep, hungry kiss that nipped at her bottom lip.
Samantha had never been kissed, not like that.
She wasn’t sure what to do, and so she just sat there, her heart jumping into her throat while her brain fizzled out on what the next plan of action should be. Luckily, Abel seemed to know what he was doing, and he quickly noticed her distress.
“Open your mouth,” he breathed.
“What?” she whispered against him, and she felt the slide of his calloused fingers running up the side of her chin.
“Good,” he grinned, taking advantage of her slack lips to run the tip of his tongue over her lip and push inside. He was all sharp angles and big, beautiful eyes, and she couldn’t stop the way that her heart was hammering for her to just let it happen.
But they were in public.
Outside.
“Stop,” she said, pulling away to cover his mouth with her hand. At his raised eyebrows, she panted, “Not here.”
His penthouse was as charming as ever. At least, Samantha assumed it was – she and Abel had been making out since they’d boarded his private elevator to really notice when the thing dinged and dropped them off. It was an odd sort of dance they did, to get to the bedroom. Samantha laughed when her knees hit the bed, and she let herself fall onto it, spreading out her arms as she bounced.
Part of her had hoped that she’d lose interest by the time that he drove her back to the city. It wasn’t a long drive, but the adrenaline and overall unpleasantness of riding on his motorbike should’ve at least dulled some of her desire.
She would’ve never guessed that it’d do the opposite instead.
“Samantha,” Abel moaned, his hands popping her shirt buttons as he freed her breasts. They were still in their bra, a black lacy thing that she’d chosen to inspire confidence, and he seized them, palming and rubbing her hardened nipples.
“Abel,” she mocked dryly, rubbing a knee between his legs. That just made him moan louder, and he ripped her bra upwards, literally dropping her breasts free. As a larger woman, she’d always had double D’s, and while she’d been told that it was something that she should be grateful for, she’d never really understood until now. Abel was like a man possessed, kneading and pinching and biting and licking. It was too much, and she accidentally whined, which only dro
ve Abel on further.
“God, your tits,” he breathed, forcing himself to move away. Samantha wondered why, until she felt hands at her pants.
She didn’t protest as he worked them off, and she even tried to help him with his own. With a kick of their respective pants to the floor, Abel took a new position, and she quickly realized why.
Fingers, two of them, were at her entrance, rubbing and sliding over her folds. With his blue eyes on hers, he popped one inside, and she gasped, throwing her head back at the feel of the strange, fat finger working in and out of her.
“Oh, if you like that then you’re going to love what comes next,” he promised, and he added another.
It wasn’t until he got to three that Samantha had finally had it and she yanked him down by his shirt collar, demanding, “You’d better hurry up and fuck me before I just take care of it myself.”
That got him moving, and with a push under her knees and her hands in his hair, he finally gave her what she’d been craving.
She came faster than she’d ever done before, and her whole vagina clenched down, squeezing and milking for all that it was worth as she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. Her whole body was shaking, even after it was over, but the thrusts that Abel kept pumping into her only rocked her body more.
“Abel,” she cried, sensitive and spent.
“I’m cumming,” he promised. “I’m—!”
He came with his face in her neck, his biceps bulging as his whole body tensed. Samantha waited a moment before she shoved him off and, finally, he slipped out. Her body was still trembling, and she closed her legs in an effort to make it stop.
“So,” Abel panted. “Uh, wanna go out again some time?”
Samantha glanced at him. “What?” she said faintly. “Like, a second date?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, swallowing.
Samantha grinned to herself. “Why not,” she shrugged. It wasn’t a question.
THE END
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