Snatched (Outlaw Warriors)

by Cathleen Ross

  “You’re perfect for me, baby.”

  For once, she had nothing to say. She just wanted to fuck. The man was hot and hard, and that’s the way he took her. He withdrew until she could feel his cock about to leave her, then shoved himself back in deep. She closed her eyes and gave in to the pleasure, tilting her hips up so the head of his cock stroked her inner walls, right where she needed him.

  He was right. The orgasms were just starting. The second was already building, and it didn’t take long before she came with a rush. She cried out, her fingers curling around the hand that imprisoned hers. Her whole sex vibrated around his cock until she felt like she was levitating.

  Also caught up in the thrall, he moaned deep, pouring everything he had inside her. Finally, he released her hands and pulled out. She slumped forward, then eased off the dresser, stumbling to the bed and falling onto it. She was floating in the warm afterglow of lovemaking.

  He followed and spooned up next to her. “I want you to come to the meet. Just for a short time. I want to introduce you to my friend, Axel. He served with me. There are a few of the guys who mean a lot to me, and I want them to meet you, too. These are the brothers who have my back. I have theirs, and I want them to have yours. They aren’t criminals, I promise. They’re my friends.”

  “Are you asking me or ordering me?”

  “Asking. Politely. Look, we’re bikers. I know we’re not sweet. Many of the brothers don’t have criminal records. Some do. But like I said, Pa cleaned up the club a lot when he became president. We don’t sanction wild-ass behavior. It brings in the cops.”

  She took in a deep breath, considering it. She didn’t like the idea. Not remotely. But he had backed off the orders and asked her sweetly. And what he’d said during their fight earlier, that she’d judged and condemned them all without even meeting them…well, it had struck home. She had done that. And as difficult as it was to imagine she might be wrong, it was only fair to give his friends a chance to prove themselves. And after the attempted break-in and the terrifying face in her window tonight, she realized she was a fool for turning away his offer of protection. She really was vulnerable here all alone.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go because you asked me nicely. And I’ll be polite to everyone. But you need to understand, this isn’t my world.”

  He took her hands and kissed them. “Thank you. I know this is hard for you.”

  The man had a unique sense of timing for getting what he wanted, and it rankled, but she could see she’d made him happy. He’d lost the wary look in his eyes. Instead, his whole body was relaxed and fluid as he held her, so gently.

  So different from when she’d first met him.

  And, if going along with his lie kept the creeps away from her windows, she was willing to make nice at his obnoxious club for one stupid party. This could work.

  Just as long as their lie held up. She wasn’t oblivious to the risk. She didn’t like what they were doing.

  It wasn’t smart trying to fool dangerous men.

  Chapter Thirty

  When they arrived at the club the next evening, Stacey was sitting behind Troy on the back of his bike, just where she belonged. He loved having her arms around his waist and her snuggled against his back, holding him tight. He could definitely get used to this.

  Too bad she probably wouldn’t give him the chance.

  It was ten o’clock, and she would normally be heading to bed about now, but it was early for a club meet. The party wouldn’t really get going until after midnight. Which worked out well, because no doubt she’d want to leave well before things got crazy.

  When they rode up the driveway and parked in front of the club, the brothers let out a cheer. He got off the bike, helped Stacey off, and undid her helmet.

  They walked inside the club into the large common room. “Everyone, this is my old lady, Stacey,” he announced.

  His statement was met with hoots and animal noises, and he looked at her to see how she was coping. Her eyes were agog, but not at the brothers, who mostly wore denim jeans and T-shirts with their cuts. He followed to where her gaze had landed.

  Many of the brothers had women with them. Some of the girls were wearing cut-off denim shorts and tank tops with large, loose, open sides that let their breasts show through. Others were already down to their mini shorts and micro bikini tops, dancing seductively together.

  There was a stripper pole on the stage, and one of the girls was upside down, spreading her legs while wearing the minutest of G-strings.

  The whores hadn’t even arrived yet.

  “I think I’m overdressed,” Stacey said with a nervous giggle.

  “You stay that way. I’m not sharing the sight of your gorgeous body with anyone.” He bent and kissed her cheek. She was wearing a little black sleeveless dress and heels. With her long blonde hair worn down, and her big innocent blue eyes, she looked delicious.

  Putting his arm around her waist, he steered her down a long corridor and out the back door into the large courtyard where Mom and Pa stood. He thought he’d better start her off with the two people she knew. But before he could reach them, other brothers crowded around, wanting to meet her.

  “Beast, your woman is beautiful,” Pervert said, staring at Stacey’s breasts.

  He reached out and tilted Pervert’s face upward. Thankfully, he had warned her about their dubious manners. And their nicknames. “Meet Pervert,” he said.

  “Figures,” she said. “Hi, Pervert.”

  Pervert grinned.

  There was heavy metal music playing, and the beer was flowing. A whole pig was roasting on a spit outside, filling the air with the scent of pork and smoke. Snake was working his tail off on the outside bar managing the new prospects. Pa sure knew how to punish a guy.

  By the time he’d introduced Stacey to Donut and Dick, Catfish, Crotch and Crowbar, Dirtbag, Knob and Lug Nut, he was thirsty. He finally made a path through the crowd to Mom and Pa. “Keep an eye on Stacey, please,” he said to his parents. “I’m going to get her a drink.”

  He strode over to the bar toward Snake, who went for the whiskey bottle the moment he saw him. “I’ll have a beer, and a glass of white wine for Stacey.”

  “Not on the hard stuff?” Snake asked.

  “Staying sober. I have a fiancée I intend to look after,” he said, driving home his point.

  Snake poured the drinks. “I fucking miss Lizzie.”

  “When I saw Lizzie’s apartment trashed, I thought something really bad had happened to her. Would have helped to know you two had fought,” Troy said pointedly.

  “You think I want Razor knowing I upset his daughter that much? He’s close to gutting me as it is.”

  “He already knows everything,” Troy said, disgusted.

  “I didn’t know Lizzie would do a runner,” Snake said. “You heard from her?”

  “No. She’s still pissed at me for dangling Stacey over my veranda in front of Psycho. Her screams got Lizzie on the phone, though.”

  “Think it’ll work a second time?” Snake said, looking hopefully at Stacey.

  Troy picked up his beer and Stacey’s glass of wine. “I could feed your balls to Psycho. That might work.”

  Snake’s mustache wilted. “Lizzie will never forgive me, will she?”

  “Doubtful. You made a real ass of yourself.”

  It hit him how lucky he was that Stacey had forgiven him. He turned his back on Snake and sauntered back to her. He could see Mom, her face animated, chatting with her, and he knew things would be okay.

  He handed her the glass of wine.

  “Honey,” Mom said, “I know you’ve been looking for a wedding venue. I spoke to your cousin, Jean-Paul, and he’s offered to have the wedding on his plantation.”

  For a microsecond, Troy froze. Crap! Involving more family would make it even more hurtful to back out when the time came. But obviously, his mother wasn’t going to let up about the wedding.

  “Baby, would you like that?�
�� Troy asked Stacey, hoping she’d say no, but knowing she wouldn’t.

  “You’re lucky to have such a wonderful property in the family,” she said. “From Georgia’s description, it sounds like something out of Gone with the Wind.”

  “Minus the slaves,” he said. “Thank goodness times change. Now Pa likes to turn bikers into his slaves.” He glanced over at Snake.

  Pa followed his gaze and stared mean-eyed at Snake. “I want your sister home.”

  “Me, too,” Troy said. He needed to convince Pa to give amnesty to Animal, or they’d never get Lizzie back home. She’d made that clear. However, it wasn’t a subject to raise now.

  “Maybe your wedding is the way to do it,” Mom said. “Surely, she’d come home for that, darling.”

  “I don’t know,” Troy said. “She’s made it pretty clear she wants space from the family.”

  “Brian would bring Lizzie to my wedding if he knew it was safe,” Stacey said, looking straight at Pa, her voice loud and clear.

  Hawg waddled over to join them, barging in before Pa could answer. “Your brother’s a traitor, plain and simple,” he said to Stacey. “He disobeyed his president. He was told to stay away from Lizzie. The president’s orders and the business of the club come before anything else. You haven’t been here long enough to understand that.”

  “Maybe not,” Stacey said, “but I know my brother is treating Lizzie well, which is more than I can say about the man Pa thought was suitable, the man who broke her heart.”

  “Leave it, Stacey,” Troy said. “I’ll deal with this later.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “Why? Because women can’t have a voice? You all love Lizzie, but you have to understand, I love and miss my brother just as much. Brian helped Lizzie when she needed it most. He’s not a bad man. I lost my father two weeks ago, and I don’t have anyone here except you, Troy. I want my brother back.”

  “You have us, honey,” Mom said gently to Stacey.

  “No, Georgia, I don’t. I could love you like a mother. You’re everything Troy says you are.” Stacey turned to Pa. “I could even come to care for you, Pa, because you’re Troy’s father. But I want my brother alive and safe, and you’re the only one who can fix that.”

  Hawg loomed over her angrily. “You’re nobody. You don’t get to question the president.”

  Troy was about to tell Hawg to back the hell off, but Stacey spoke up.

  “You’re wrong. If Pa is going to be my father-in-law, I have to be able to talk to him and have him listen, or we won’t have a relationship. But I don’t answer to you, Hawg, and I never will.”

  Hawg’s brows creased in a nasty line.

  Mom raised her eyebrows, doubtless surprised at Stacey’s gutsy words. “Well, that’s telling you, Hawg.”

  Stacey turned back to Pa, ignoring Hawg’s menacing look. “I’m not questioning you, Pa. I’m asking you to forgive Brian for helping your daughter instead of obeying you. I know you thought Snake was the man for Lizzie, but sometimes people we trust let us down.”

  “You got that right,” Pa said.

  “I don’t like the way Snake has hurt my little girl. Honey, can you fix this?” Mom asked Pa, putting a hand softly on his burly arm. “I know you haven’t told me everything, but can you do this, so we can get Lizzie back?”

  Pa looked from her to Snake, to Stacey, and back to Mom.

  “All right. I’ll grant Animal amnesty,” Pa said. “If it’ll bring Lizzie home, that’ll be a wedding gift for all of us.”

  “Oh, thank you, Pa! That means the world to me,” Stacey said, giving Troy’s father a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  Troy watched, amused. No one hugged Pa except Mom. But amazingly, he didn’t seem to mind. Stacey had a way of breaking down barriers.

  Troy breathed a deep sigh of relief. He looked at his watch, checking to see if half an hour had passed so he could get his sassy-mouthed woman home.

  Hawg grunted in obvious disapproval. But a dozen witnesses had heard Pa’s edict, so he wouldn’t dare go against it.

  “Congratulations,” the VP said grudgingly to Troy. “Never thought you’d get hooked up before me. Enjoy your chains.” His mean little eyes flicked over Stacey.

  “You’ve got twenty years on me,” Troy said. “What happened? No one want a big fella like you?”

  “I’m waiting for Georgia to get rid of this old bastard,” Hawg nudged Pa.

  Mom laughed, put her arm around Hawg, and kissed his cheek. It was a close friendship, and Troy believed Hawg cared for his mother, which for some reason didn’t piss off Pa.

  “You’re better looking than I am, Hawg, but she still chose me,” Pa said. “The best man won.”

  “True,” Hawg nodded agreeably, and Pa grinned.

  The tension seemed to dissipate.

  “Want to go home now?” Troy asked Stacey, keen to get her out of the meet.

  “Are you kidding? Sounds like Georgia has found a great place for our wedding, and Pa’s going to let Brian come home. So far, I’m having a pretty good time. Let’s go and meet more of your friends.”

  Troy groaned inwardly. He was definitely going to have to stay sober. Either that or gag Stacey.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Stacey was curled up in bed with Troy, and despite lying down, her feet ached like crazy from dancing all night.

  She sat up and groaned. “Oh, man, do I have a hangover.”

  He grinned. “Serves you right. I’ve never seen you drink so much.”

  “Not fair. You nursed one stupid beer all night, at your own engagement party.”

  “That’s because I had to stay sober to save you from yourself.”

  She flopped—gingerly—back down on the bed and turned on her side. “That was a fun party last night. But I don’t think I should have tried climbing the stripper pole. I slid right down and fell on my butt. I think bruised my coccyx.”

  “Yeah. Right before you asked one of the brothers if he’d served time.” Troy reached down and massaged the base of her spine.

  She wriggled under his touch. “Did I? Oh, God.” She groaned as the image of a huge man with rings in his ears, nose, eyebrows, and bottom lip swam before her. “Did he have studs all over his face?”

  Troy nodded with a grin. “Metal Man has studs everywhere. And I do mean everywhere.” His fingers caressed the spot she’d bruised, and she sighed in appreciation. “Don’t you remember asking him to show you the rest?”

  “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  Troy snorted. “Stacey, he flopped out his cock! You bent so low to see his Prince Albert, I thought you were going to give him a blow job.”

  She covered her eyes with both hands in mortification. “Oh, God. I remember now. Eww! I’m so sorry if I disgraced myself.”

  “Cheer up. The brothers liked you.” He bent forward and kissed the back of her neck. Just as his hand moved to massage her ass cheeks, she heard a knock at the door.

  Damn.

  “Ignore it. They’ll go away,” he said. “We haven’t had morning sex yet.” His fingers skimmed the crack of her bottom.

  “We had morning sex at three in the morning. And if you think morning sex is going where your fingers are playing, think again.”

  He chuckled. “You might like it.”

  “Drunk, I might consider it.”

  He started to part her ass cheeks, but she automatically clenched and moved his hand away. “Changed my mind. Make that unconscious.” She turned over to face him and ran her fingers over his chest, playing with his flat man nipples. His cock was poking into her abdomen, and she was looking forward to it sliding into her, but first, she moved down his body and took his cock into her mouth.

  He moaned and arched as she swirled her tongue around the head. “I love it when you do that.”

  This time, someone hammered on the door, loud and insistent.

  She put a hand to her forehead to stop the unpleasant reminder of
her hangover. “Damn it. Who can it be on a Sunday?”

  “Wait. You’re leaving me? Like this?” Troy looked down at his cock.

  “Stay right like that. Unless it’s your mother,” she added. She crawled out of bed and pulled on fresh underwear and her white poplin frock.

  “My mom knows better than to get out of bed before ten on a Sunday,” he mumbled.

  Disgruntled, she trudged to the front door and opened it to find two men on her doorstep. They wore crisp white shirts with official-looking emblems, navy pants, and black shoes. She tucked her hair behind her ears and hoped she didn’t have bed hair. Had she even taken off her makeup last night?

  “Can I help you?” she asked cautiously.

  “I’m Thomas Wren, the fire marshal responsible for Gert Town, and this is Mark Oliver, the assistant fire marshal. I’m looking for Mr. Martin?”

  Her heart stalled. “That’s my father. He passed away two weeks ago. I’m Stacey Martin. What’s this about?” From the look on the man’s face, she had worse problems than bed hair or smudged makeup.

  Troy joined her, putting his arm around her waist. “What’s up?”

  “I know you,” Mark Oliver said, carefully observing Troy.

  She didn’t like the expression on Oliver’s face. He was looking at Troy as if he was muck under his shoe.

  Troy scowled. “No, you don’t.”

  Thomas Wren glanced at his assistant, then back to Stacey. “May we come in, Ms. Martin?”

  “I—” She glanced at Troy uncertainly. “I suppose so. What’s this all about?”

  They all went into the small living room, but she was too antsy to sit down on the sofa, so everyone remained standing.

  “There has been a fire in your father’s warehouse in Gert Town,” the fire marshal said.

  Her heart sank, and apprehension whirled through her. “How bad? Was anyone hurt?” she asked.

  A fire! Her head reeled at the thought that everything her father had worked for may have gone up in flames. Years of effort and sacrifice. Not to mention her own future. Most of her inheritance from Dad was tied up in the business.

  “No casualties. But I need to inform you that the warehouse burned to the ground,” Wren said.