Bad Boys for Hire: Ryker (Bad Boys for Hire #1) (7 page)

T
erri couldn’t breathe
. Not with all the hormones and sparks jumping between her and Ryker. She might as well face it—she could no more get rid of Ryker than she could her own heart. This man who used to be the boy she’d flashed herself to—the sweet, pure, and innocent boy, who’d so tentatively and respectfully touched her—was now a wild and ferocious man, a trained killer, but one she was not afraid of.

Except she should be. He was raw and dangerous, and he wasn’t listening to her.

His rock hard body shoved her against the wall, and his mouth crashed into hers. He was angry and hungry, unyielding and demanding.

She couldn’t overpower him, couldn’t squirm away, didn’t want to. His lips harsh and firm, and his body unyielding and hot.

His raised her hands above her head, clamping her wrists with a vise grip while he devoured her lips, her tongue, claiming and imprinting her with the sound, the fury, and the musky scent of his arousal.

She’d barely had time to kiss him back, to take her taste, when he dragged her hands higher and buried his lips and teeth on the column of her neck. He sucked and nipped her, sending fire throughout her body. Incredibly, pain mingled with the pleasure of knowing that he was marking her.

He tore a moan from deep in her belly when he ripped her blouse, popping all the buttons, as if her clothes were an affront to his passion, to his burning need to feast off her flesh.

Gone was that tentative, shy boy who’d gingerly lifted a finger, hardly daring to touch the budding mounds of her breasts. Gone was the worshipful look, the wondering gleam in his eye, the amazement of the first kiss, the delighted tremble of first arousal.

This man knew what he wanted and went for it. The thick, roped muscles of his forearm hardened as he grabbed one of her breasts, massaging its fullness while his tongue curled around one long, erect nipple, drawing liquid fire through her veins.

She ached and she moaned, so hot and needy. She arched against him, trying to shove her breast deeper into his mouth. He let go of her wrists to fondle both breasts, and she took the opportunity to shove his jacket open.

Rip. Buttons popped from his dress shirt as her hands greedily pressed themselves against his heated chest. She stroked him possessively, wanting to memorize every texture, every ridge, every plane of his body.

He let her loose for a few seconds to remove his clothes, and it was all Terri could do to not press herself against him, smother him with her curves and chain him to her so he’d never leave.

Except he had to go. If her parents ever recognized him, and recognize him they would, now that he was back and resembled his brothers so much, they would take him out first. The troublemaker who’d started the feud. That was what her mother had always said about the boy.

They’d lost uncles and cousins when the meth barn went up in flames. Those deaths could not be avenged by a single death, but only if the entire Wolf clan were wiped out.

Why her father waited so long was not something he shared with Terri, but she could guess.

The troublemaking boy had gone to the Middle East. The father was in jail, and knowing Terror Terkel, he’d wait for the perfect time when he could take all of the Wolves out in one shot—which meant a family reunion which could only happen once Ryker was back from war and his father was released from prison.

Terri squealed, surprised, when Ryker grabbed her around the arms and legs, lifting her. He smashed his lips against hers before she could ask what he was doing, not that she wanted him to stop—to leave. No, never.

He carried her the few short steps to her bed and tumbled her back onto her pillows, his lips still sealed to hers.

Somehow she’d lost her yoga pants and her panties were being torn. Large hands kneaded her hips, her butt, and intruded between her fleshy thighs.

But instead of his fingers plunging into her wet heat, he palmed her hot mound, leaking with arousal. She gasped as he parted her lips, slickly, as if unfolding rose petals, and her body blossomed, hot and rippling to life with exquisite pleasure.

He wanted in, and she wanted him, knew through all these years that he, Ryker Slade, was the one man she’d been waiting for. Lifting her breasts as an offering to him, she opened her legs wide, swept over by the sensuality of his body—from his cruel and ravishing lips, to the eager fingers, the hard planes of his muscles, and most of all, the hot, hard rod between his legs.

With both hands he grabbed her breasts, and his mouth plunged onto a taut nipple, suckling ferociously. His knees sliced between her legs and his heavy shaft rested on her belly, a thick weight of meat throbbing and hot.

He laved at her breasts, sucking and biting, sending spirals of pleasure to her burning core. She arched and lifted, rubbing herself against his cock, aching for him to plunge into her, to pump himself deep, in and out, and in and out, driving her to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Abruptly, he withdrew his heat from her, and when she opened her eyes, he was propped above her, glaring at her like a wild creature, a predator. His lips were pulled back in a wicked snarl and he growled, menacing, chilling her every nerve.

“You still want me to leave. Say it. Tell me to leave.”

Her mouth opened, but nothing squeaked past her vocal cords. She felt his absence like a harsh slap, and she grabbed him, pulling him toward her, desperately needing that skin to skin contact.

He pulled back, twisting himself to her side. “Tell me again to leave. Tell me to take care of myself. Go ahead.”

Her eyes widened as his large thick hand grasped the length of his cock. He stroked it hard, up and down, as beads of moisture glistened at the tip.

White hot jealousy ravaged her like a sudden thunderstorm.

“No, let me.” She covered the tip of his dick. “Let me.”

“Do you want me to leave?” He enunciated clearly as he trapped her hand against his throbbing meat. “Say it, Terri.”

“No, no. I can’t. I don’t want you to leave.”

“You sure?” He squeezed her hand around his cock, relinquishing it to her control. “Say it. Say you want me to stay. That we’ll be together in this. That we’ll face it together, and we’ll take care of each other.”

“I want you to stay.” She emphasized each word with a stroke up and down. “We’ll take care of each other.”

He groaned loudly, the sigh escaping his throat, raw and deep as he parted her sheath with the head of his swollen cock, opening her wider than she thought possible.

She heard the rip of the condom wrapper as he withdrew, but she swatted it from his mouth and claimed him with her thighs wrapping around his waist.

Gravity did the rest as he plummeted in to the hilt. Together they moaned as one at the sheer pleasure of joining, as one body, one soul, one existence.

He should have been tired out, spent from the steam they’d shared before her mother showed up, the sex that had been between strangers should have tired him to the bone.

But this was a new connection—and while he’d been wild before, now, he was consuming her, moving with deep thrusts, not rapid, but thick and heavy, each stroke dragging fire through her entire body.

Terri cried out, almost unable to withstand his assault. Tension and pleasure mounted hand in hand, with each long stroke pushing her higher and higher. The intensity scared her, pushed loud moans from her throat. His body was relentless, and his eyes—they shone with a feral glow—fiery and ferocious.

Heat and passion overwhelmed her, destroying her will to resist the impending orgasm, the big one that would destroy her and chain her to him—possibly leading to his doom. She pushed at him, clawed his chest, wanting him to stop, to go away. To run and hide. To leave and never look back. To live without her.

His hips slammed against her thighs, and his cock drilled the sensitive bundle of nerves deep in her channel, impaling all sense and reason from her brain. Each stroke threw her higher, higher, and yet higher than she thought possible.

His grip on her tightened, and his brows drew down over his eyes. He pounded her brutally, grunting and shoving deep—so deep she felt her soul go up in flames.

She exploded, crying out his name. Wave after wave crested over her head, rocking her entire body, leaving her breathless and glowing. He groaned and grunted, slamming his release into her. His body pressed down on her, breathing deep, sweating, and marking her with his scent and his seed inside her.

Terri wrapped her arms and legs around her Ryker, trapping him, clamping him, possessing him.

He relaxed over her, covering her, shuddering with pleasure as her pulses milked the last of his ejaculation from him. She continued to kiss him with her sheath, over, and over, gripping and relaxing, tightening and contracting, squeezing him to let him know that whatever happened, from now on, they were in it together.

“
T
erri
, I brought refreshments!” Jolie’s voice sailed through the front of the flower shop early the next morning.

Too early.

Terri rubbed her eyes and parted the curtain separating the workroom from the showroom. The scent of fresh brewed coffee and cinnamon rolls almost dispelled the dread buried deep in her chest, but not quite.

“Wow, you look like something a cat dragged in,” Jolie said, setting the takeout carton of coffee on the counter. “Want to tell me why you bailed on us last night? Motorcycle queen says she can’t ride?”

Terri’s eyes darted to the doorway to check if any other customers happened to be within hearing range. Fortunately, it was still early and she wasn’t officially open.

“It’s a long story, and I’m not sure what to do about it.” Terri wandered to the front of the shop and drew the shades.

Concern settled over her best friend’s forehead, and she settled herself on a stool in front of the cash register. “Okay, spill. What went on with Ryker? We get why you didn’t want to speak to him and his brothers, but what was with the danger signals?”

“Well, obviously you survived riding with them. What did they do? Where did they take you?”

Jolie pushed her red hair back in a preening motion. “It turns out Warren’s posing as a prospect for the Metal Wolves, and he helped us get on the bikes. I got Thorn, Leanna got Drake, Nikki got Maddox, and Sherelle, the old fuddy-duddy, drove her Subaru. They tooled us around the bay front and that was it. I know your parents quit the scene and all that, but not all clubs are criminal.”

“They’re wearing the 1% patch, so they’re dangerous. No club can have the 1% patch unless the big ones say they can, so they have to be allied to one of those dangerous gangs. Aren’t you worried about Warren?”

Jolie pushed a cinnamon roll onto a paper plate for Terri. “I didn’t blow his cover. I acted like I’d just met him and asked him why he was standing around outside, as if I didn’t know anything about how motorcycle clubs operate.”

“Good. Did they buy that you guys were tourists?” Terri rubbed her arms, unable to keep the goosebumps from forming. She and Ryker were playing a dangerous game. She’d convinced him her father was amenable to peace, and he hoped his mother would have a soft spot for him being the baby of the family. They’d parted company reluctantly, but had agreed that it was probably not a good idea to be seen together in the light of day.

“Oh, they swallowed that line about Kansas totally,” Jolie chirped. “You should have seen Sherelle. She was a fount of Kansas trivia. Nikki put on a heavy Chinese accent, and Leanna hinted she was a plus sized model from South America.”

“Good, you guys got lucky.” Terri took a nervous sip of coffee. “I have something serious to tell you.”

“Oh? Is it about Ryker?” Jolie put her coffee cup down and patted Terri’s back. “He doesn’t deserve you, and none of us will be seeing his brothers again. So don’t worry. We took selfies with them and made them feel all macho and badass with our comments, but not even Leanna gave out her number.”

“That’s good to know.” Terri’s stomach rumbled at the scent of the cinnamon roll, but her mouth felt cottony and she had no appetite. “There’s no better way to say this and I don’t want you to be scared, but the Slade brothers want to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Jolie’s fingers clutched Terri tight. “Seriously?”

“Yes, it all goes back to when my parents were in the Storm Demons.”

“Shit.” Jolie’s eyes popped wide. “I thought your dad changed his name and everything died down.”

“They don’t know who I am, but Ryker does.” Terri swallowed a hard lump in her throat. “He’s the link between me and them.”

“What’s he going to do? Are you in danger?”

“He came back here last night and told me everything,” Terri said. “He wants to protect me.”

“Wait, what?” Jolie’s head snapped up at the news. “I’m getting whiplash here. He came back? And? Did he spend the night?”

Terri knew her cheeks were blushing bright red, and she couldn’t help the smile from creeping up her face. “Yes, and he explained he had to leave the bar and pretend he didn’t know me because he didn’t want to endanger me. He also recognized my mother, but fortunately, she didn’t recognize him, because the last time she saw him, he was ten.”

Jolie didn’t know the details of what had gone down between the Demons and the Wolves. Her family had never even owned a motorcycle, and both her parents were doctors—truly respectable members of the country club.

“What are you going to do? Do you trust him?”

“I do.” Terri nodded. “I do, but I don’t trust his family. His dad’s getting out of jail on Friday. Is there something Warren has on them? Can he get them arrested and put away?”

“He never talks about the sting operations with me.” Jolie looked deflated. “He wasn’t happy that I went to Club Rachelle. He said I could have compromised his cover.”

“There’s nothing he can do to drag them all in?”

“If he catches them doing something really bad, I’m sure, like murder.”

A cold chill trickled up Terri’s spine, rattling her eardrums. “I hope it’s not my murder that puts them behind bars. That would be too late.”

“No kidding, girl.” Jolie rubbed her back and hugged her. “What are we going to do with you? Are you going to tell your dad?”

“That would put Ryker in danger. No. I’ll see if my father wants to run away now that Ryker’s father’s getting out of jail. I’ll tell him his cover could be blown any time soon, and that last time was too close.”

“When was that? What last time?”

“Five years ago, when Ryker ran off to the Marines. His uncle infiltrated my father’s company, but Ryker let my father know he was in danger. My father had his uncle killed.”

Jolie’s jaw dropped and every muscle in her body trembled. “His father’s going to be after blood. You need to warn your father and you guys have to run. Change your names and leave. There’s no other way.”

“I know.” Terri’s shoulders slumped and her heart clenched inside her chest. “I know. Except Ryker will track me down. He’ll never let me go.”

“Wow. Just wow. Are you two that serious?”

“After last night, we feel we’re soul mates, destined to be together.” Terri’s face flushed warm at the afterglow of waking up in his arms. “We’re not in love yet, but there’s a definite bond, like we’re two halves of the same coin. I can’t explain it. I just know.”

“Wow.” Jolie’s eyes widened and she sighed. “I wish I knew what that feels like.”