And she couldn’t deny it anymore. Somehow, against all odds and better judgment, she’d fallen in love with Drill.
There was still something to his story that wasn’t clicking, and she was pretty sure he was putting himself in some kind of danger to keep Maddy and herself out of it. She would have to ask him. But the fact that he would risk himself rather than let them stay in harm’s way was yet another reason why she’d fallen for him. When was the last time a man had even inconvenienced himself for her, much less actually put himself in jeopardy?
She walked into the small cabin, shifting her weight as he lit the fire again. Without a word, she climbed the stairs to the loft. The loft’s ceiling was slanted with the roof, but she was short enough that she didn’t have to duck her head unless she went to the edges. She went straight to the bed.
She heard Drill’s creaking steps behind her. He was silhouetted by the light of the stove on the lower story. She stood in the dark, her breathing shallow with need. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed, taking off her boots and socks. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater, her usual clothes. She wished she’d thought to pack some sexy underwear, but they’d just have to make do.
He stared at her, just standing there at the top of the stairs. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said in a low, reverent breath.
She felt warm all over. No one had ever looked at her that way. Or made her feel as beautiful as he claimed. It soaked her like a hot tub, warming her and soothing her and still turning her on.
She patted the bed next to her.
He surprised her by kneeling in front of her. He was tall enough that they were nearly the same height. He leaned in, his mouth brushing against her forehead, then moving down. He kissed her eyebrows, her closed eyelids. Her nose. Then he captured her mouth, and she sighed in gratitude, opening to his searching tongue as he framed her face with his hands. She kissed him slowly, deeply, with feeling. He tasted like chocolate and toffee and something utterly masculine that was just him, and she clenched her hands in his shirt, tugging him closer to her.
He made a low noise of approval, tugging off his leather jacket and tossing it to the floor behind him. His hands went to her sweater, smoothing up the skin below it. He found her bra, cupping her breasts, then reaching behind and undoing the latch. She pulled away enough for him to pull the sweater off of her head, then slide the bra from her arms. Now, he leaned down, pressing hot kisses from her jaw to her neck to her clavicle — then he leaned down, taking her nipple into his hot, wet mouth.
She cried out, arching her back, pressing deeper into his greedy lips. He licked around the aureole, and she felt herself go wet in a rush. He cupped the other, circling it with his thumb as he worked her steadily with his mouth.
“Drill,” she breathed, her hips squirming, her nerve endings going absolutely haywire.
He released her, blowing softly against the dampness of her skin. She wriggled. She could make out the grin on his face in the dim light.
“God damn, woman,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “You’re even sexier than I imagined. And I’ve been fantasizing a lot.”
“Me, too,” she admitted. She tugged at his shirt. “Your turn.”
He smirked, then pulled it over his head.
Holy. Shit.
The guy was ripped. Talk about arm porn. She suddenly wished she’d turned on the light. She could see his pecs, clearly defined, and a six-pack that made her want to cry. If she wasn’t turned on before — and she was — she would be now. Doubly so, in fact.
She ran her fingernails down his chest, watching as he closed his eyes like a big cat, leaning against her, making the contact rougher. She wanted to feel that chest against her own, so she pressed against him, her thighs on either side of his hips.
She stroked her fingers lower. Holy God, he had that V cut that led down to what felt like a sizable hardness. Her fingertips traced his happy trail…
“Hold on a sec,” he said gruffly, pulling away. She let out a whimper of disappointment. He smiled… then undid his pants.
“I can approve of this,” she whispered back, and was gratified to hear him laugh.
“You’re gonna need to be patient.” His drawl was strong now, she noticed. She wondered if passion amplified it. If so, he was going to sound really Southern, if she had anything to do with it. He untied his boots, taking them off, and got rid of the jeans. “There. Poor guy was strangling in there.”
She chuckled. The “poor guy” in question was tenting his boxers like a fence post. She reached for him, but only got one good stroke before he groaned and dodged.
“I don’t know who you’ve been with,” he said, “but for me, it’s ladies first.”
She liked the sound of that, too. So much, that she let him undo her jeans, pulling them down her legs along with her panties. She felt self-conscious for a moment, wondering if he’d be happy with what he saw.
He looked mesmerized. Then he gently nudged her back on the bed, her knees still on the edge, her legs still dangling over the side.
When he kissed her stomach, she shivered. His hands smoothed along her thighs, caressing her, bringing her flesh to life. She felt her skin prickle with awareness as his mouth moved lower, circling her belly button, moving inexorably lower. Kissing first one leg, then the other, as his fingers gently parted the curls between. Until he found the spot, the right spot, one so few men ever seemed to be able to find. He pressed gently, then more insistently, adding a swirl.
She gasped, lifting her hips to meet his pressure. Then he leaned down, taking the nub into his mouth and twirling it with his tongue.
She cried out. He sucked on it, putting her legs over his shoulders as he moved more insistently, making noises that said he was enjoying what he was doing as much as she was enjoying having it done to her. She panted, breathing short and choppy, and she clutched the quilt spasmodically as he continued working her.
She felt the clutching precursor to her orgasm and whispered “Drill!” as she came. His acknowledgment was increased pressure… and then, as it started to recede, he plunged his fingers in, moving them with slow certainty.
She almost screamed with the pleasure of it.
She was still breathing hard when he pulled the covers aside and placed her underneath them. Then he tugged off his boxers and went to his jeans, pulling out his wallet and retrieving a condom. She hadn’t even thought about it, and she always thought about it. She was both embarrassed and relieved that at least one of them had remembered.
She was still wet and felt pliable, almost melting with the aftershocks of her afterglow. She slid her body next to his. He smiled at her tenderly, and she watched as he rolled the condom on.
“How do you like it?” he asked, as he fitted the latex to himself. “On top? Underneath? From behind?”
“I don’t suppose you have more than one of those?” she asked.
He grinned. “I might have one more.”
“On top, to start, then,” she said. Being a smaller person, it was easy to feel overwhelmed and crushed by missionary. “Then… maybe, we see where it goes from there?”
He didn’t answer. He simply lifted her like she weighed nothing, and then adjusted the quilt around her so she wouldn’t get cold. She laughed a little. Like she could feel cold after the last two orgasms he’d given her.
He was a big guy — tall, and muscular — and his cock was proportionate. She positioned herself over him, feeling excitement start to well in her again. Slowly, she lowered herself on him, gasping softly as she felt him inexorably fill her. It felt so good. So damned good.
“Oh my God, Thuy,” he groaned, when she finally had him fully seated inside her. “Christ, you feel good.”
She couldn’t answer, because she was too busy feeling the same way. She lifted herself, then lowered. She felt him flex inside her, and moaned in response.
He lifted himself to a sitting position, and it amazed her. He wrapped her legs around hi
s waist. It drove him deeper inside her, and she shifted, gyrating her hips as she repositioned. The consequent brush against a spot inside her had her shuddering from the sheer pleasure it presented. She experimented, shifting more.
The motions must’ve been driving him crazy, too. He held her hips, pulling her taut against him, swirling her around him. He leaned down, taking her breast into his mouth. The jolt from that, combined with the rush from where they were joined below, drove her crazy. She started pumping against him, holding him tight with her thighs. His cock swelled inside her, stroking her… slamming into her with intent, until she could only hold on, clawing at him, begging him for more. Their mouths fused. She bounced against him, their stomachs sliding against each other, his cock huge and insistent.
The orgasm blindsided her. She cried out, screaming his name, clenching against him so hard she thought she’d blackout. She could feel him grow, then shudder inside her, as he pulled her taut against his hips. They sat like that for a second, clutching each other like they never wanted to let go.
Reluctantly, she got off of him. He went and took care of the condom. When he climbed back up the stairs, gloriously naked, she felt sleepy and sated. And deeply, crazily, stupidly in love.
“What should we do with that other condom?” she asked, with a small grin.
He laughed. “Ask me again in twenty minutes,” he said gruffly, then climbed into bed, spooning against her. His skin was hot against hers, and she shimmied back, feeling enveloped by his warmth.
She didn’t mean to fall asleep. She meant to ask him about what had really happened with the Wraiths. She knew they ought to discuss how he was planning on getting out. And even if she was a little hesitant, she needed to tell him how she felt — and ask what they might want to do about it, if he felt the same.
Then she could ask about — and then demonstrate — how they could use that second condom.
But instead, she fell asleep. And to her dismay, she woke up in the cold cabin, completely alone.
Chapter Forty
Drill got up early the next day. He had wanted to kiss Thuy very badly — kiss her awake, so they could use the last condom — but he knew that if she woke, and they’d made love, he wouldn’t want to leave. And he had to leave.
Today was his first day as vice president of the Wraiths. He had shit he’d need to do. He’d have to explain to her why he’d taken the job — and why he’d left — some other time. Right now, he was holding the memory of her warmth, her passion, like it was the last good memory he was going to have for a while.
Probably because it was.
He rode down country roads to the outskirts of town. Catfish rented a house out there, by the woods. He used to live in an apartment like Drill did, and he could’ve lived closer to the Dragon, but he took advantage of the larger president’s cut of their takes, and got himself a nice place with “some privacy.” Some of the members joked it was so Catfish could drag bodies out to the woods and bury them if he needed to. Catfish didn’t do anything to dissuade people of this notion, so their laughter afterward was usually a little nervous.
Since Drill had helped him move his crappy ass furniture to the place, he knew exactly where Catfish lived. And since Catfish didn’t get his ass out of bed before nine at the earliest — usually because the Wraiths ran their business late — he knew that he’d catch Catfish without worrying about dealing with any of the other Wraiths.
He knocked on the door. “C’mon, Catfish, open up. I know you’re home.”
He waited, frowning, then knocked again. He heard movement. Then the door opened. Catfish was there, in sweatpants, holding a gun.
“Jesus!” Drill held up his hands reflexively.
“Oh, it’s you.” Catfish rolled his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here this early?”
“Needed to talk to you,” he said. “I should’ve said something yesterday, but I was pissed… and Dave was there, and the other guys. I didn’t want them overhearing.”
Catfish looked irritated. He shot a glance back at his bedroom door, which was closed. Drill realized immediately that he might’ve been interrupting something.
Too bad. He’d forgone morning sex. Catfish could give him a few minutes.
Sighing, Catfish stepped aside, letting Drill walk in. The house was nice, all things considered. It was neat as a pin; Catfish hated mess. He often got on new prospects for being “fucking slobs” at the Dragon, but with a group of guys, there was only so far you could get with that.
“So, talk,” Catfish said. “But don’t get comfortable. You’re not staying long.”
“Wasn’t planning to,” Drill said, as Catfish put the gun away in a drawer. “It’s about the farm.”
“What about it? Change your mind about investing in the club, or you keeping it all to yourself?” Catfish shook his head. “Selfish bastard,” he said, but he sounded half-joking.
Drill felt his stomach fall. “I’m not… I told you, I wasn’t giving my half of the sale to the club,” Drill said. “That didn’t mean I was taking it.”
Catfish’s grin fell. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m letting Maddy keep the farm.”
“Tell me you’re shitting me right now.” Catfish’s voice was stern.
“That’s why I came over here,” Drill said. “It occurred to me that some of the members of the club might not understand. I need to guarantee their safety.”
“Are you shitting me right now?” Catfish yelled. “Listen, if you sold the house, and kept the money, some of the guys might mumble, but frankly, most of them would do the same damned thing. But leaving it to your sister?” A vein bulged in Catfish’s forehead. “You don’t have family other than the Wraiths, God damn it!” he roared. “We’re your brothers! Does that mean nothing to you?”
“Of course, it means something!” Drill yelled back. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to threaten my goddamned pregnant little sister and force her off her land! You knew her, remember? When we were younger? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Other people stopped meaning a goddamned thing to me when I got old enough to see how shitty the world was gonna treat me,” Catfish said, his eyes blazing with recrimination. “When I joined the Wraiths, they became my world.” He paused a beat, looking at Drill with undisguised disgust. “I thought you felt the same.”
“I did,” Drill said. “Then Lube died. Remember that?”
Catfish grimaced.
“That was fucked up. And we let it happen. And kept letting shit happen. Kept giving Razor a pass,” Drill pressed.
“We did what we had to do,” Catfish said. “What we were ordered to do. What was needed.”
“Lube wasn’t the only one. He was just the first one I really let sink in,” Drill said. “And then there was that shit with the other clubs. Razor’s scheme. Darrell going state’s.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Catfish snapped. “Why the fuck do you think I’ve been putting in all this work? I’ve been trying to fix things!”
“You sent Burro and Nick to go through my goddamned phone, Catfish.”
Catfish didn’t look sorry. “I had to know I could trust you.” For a second, he looked rebellious — but also very, very alone.
“I’ll help you,” Drill said, even though the words cost him. “But I’m not going to do it at the expense of Maddy, or her kid. That’s fucked up. Even for us.”
Catfish’s eyes narrowed. “Sledgehammer said something to me,” Catfish said slowly. “About the other one. The Asian chick.”
Drill felt his nerves prickle. “What about her?”
“He said you were real possessive.” Catfish glared at him. “Tell me: you banging her? Is that what this is all about?”
Drill thought about lying, but Catfish would put it together. The man was wickedly smart, which is how he’d wound up on top. “My relationship with her has nothing to do with this,” Drill said, through gritted teeth.
Catfi
sh goggled. “Your relationship with her?” he repeated. “Christ. This gets better and better.” The words were sour. He shook his head.
“I need to make sure they stay safe,” Drill continued.
“You want to keep them safe?” Catfish said. “Then you make goddamned sure they have no connection to you, understand? You spread the word that your sister bought you out, with plenty of cash, even if it’s a lie, so the guys think you got something out of the deal. You ignore her if you see her on the street. And you don’t dip your dick in that Asian chick again. You do, and the whole crew is going to know that you went soft.” Catfish rubbed at his temples. “And that’s gonna fuck us both.”
Drill felt cold seep through him, right into his bones. He knew, logically, that this was the only possible outcome.
“No attempts on them, for anything,” Drill said. “I’ll steer clear, I’ll spread the lie. But you have to help me make sure that Sledgehammer doesn’t try anything stupid. Or Timothy fucking King,” he growled. “You know how he is with women.”
“If I give them any protection, it’s just painting a target on them,” Catfish said, his tone gentling a little. “You know that. I’ll keep ‘em busy, but you’ve got to stay away from them.”
Drill swallowed. “All right.”
Catfish looked back at the bedroom door. “Believe it or not… I feel for you. And I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Can’t always have what we want, man.”
Drill nodded, then headed for the door.
“We’re introducing you as vice prez tonight,” Catfish called after him. “Official meeting, all the members. Don’t be late.”
Drill nodded. He’d figure out some way to tell Thuy, and Maddy.
And then, he told himself, he’d walk away.
Chapter Forty-One
Thuy went in to the library, still feeling confused about Drill’s disappearing act.
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