Bound: Minutemen MC (11 page)

Camilla scowled. She followed him to the side door of the garage and into the house, knowing that her situation had not improved…she had simply been moved from one cage to another.

Chapter 16: Seduction

Dirk’s house wasn’t really what one would expect of an outlaw biker’s residence. It was stylish and cozy and filled with art. It had large windows that Camilla suspected would let in loads of light during the day. It was airy and welcoming, and it even had plants scattered here and there. The more she walked around the house, the more intrigued Camilla became with this man, who was so full of surprises.

There was a piano in the living room. Camilla turned to Dirk in surprise. “You play?”

Dirk shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Seriously?”

He pretended to be offended. “Even us bikers can appreciate the arts, you know?”

Camilla arched an eyebrow, but she refrained from saying anything. Of all the things she might have expected to find in Dirk’s house, a piano sure as hell wasn’t it. She wondered about this man and his complexity. Was there any end to the many faces of Dirk Coleman? If they were all as intriguing, she really couldn’t wait to find out more.

Eventually, however, her fascination died down when he led her to a guest’s bedroom. It was spacious and comfortable, and it was yet one more cage.

“This’ll be your room while you’re staying here,” he announced.

Camilla heaved a resigned sigh. “Thank you,” she said, because really, what else could she have said? He’d had a point back at the garage; he
could
be treating her much worse.

“Aw, don’t be like that, princess,” he said, and then he threw his hands up in a placating gesture when she turned sharply to glare at him. “Look, I get it. You’re fed up. It’s understandable. But we’re doing this for your own good.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “You keep saying that.”

Dirk shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“Somehow I have trouble believing you.”

Dirk sighed. “Whatever,” he said after a moment, finally deciding that he didn’t care what she thought. “So, to sum up, you are restricted to only a few rooms: this one and its adjacent bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen. Any questions?”

Fuck you
, Camilla thought fiercely. Aloud, she said, “You probably don’t want to hear them.”

“I probably don’t,” Dirk admitted. “Well then, good night.”

Camilla stared at him incredulously. “Seriously?” she said. “You expect me to sleep after everything that just happened?”

Dirk gave a shrug. “Frankly, I don’t care what you do in here. Me, I’m going to bed.”

Camilla swallowed past the wave of desire that threatened to overcome her at those words. Even with everything that was going on…she still wanted him. God, I hate myself for it!

She bit her lip and nodded. “Fine,” she said, once she felt she could trust her voice not to waver. “Goodnight.”

Camilla watched as he closed the door, and then she threw herself onto the bed, staring angrily up at the ceiling. She didn’t bother to turn on the light. She just lay there, seething in the darkness.

And then, against all odds, she fell asleep.

***

It had been a very long night. Dirk got little-to-no sleep, too tense and worried about everyone and everything to truly succumb to slumber. He finally gave up on the idea of sleeping around 6:30 in the morning, and he resorted to walking to the kitchen to get himself some much-needed coffee. There was something comforting about the smell of the strong drink filling the room in the early morning hours, and he gave the first true sigh of relief once he finally sat down at the kitchen’s island and nursed the steaming mug between his hands. He took a long sip, but even the strong, dark, bitter liquid couldn’t undo the knots in his stomach.

He didn’t like the orders Stephan had given him.

“Bring her to your house; she’ll be safe there,”
his president and friend had said.
“Stay with her and keep her there until the moment’s passed.”

“The moment”—of course—being Herman Ruiz’s revenge. He knew how brutal that could be. How ruthless. How unforgiving. He had been on the receiving end of it himself, when he had gunned down Ruiz’s scumbag brother. He shuddered as the memories pushed to get past the wall behind which he had confined them. Truth was, even though Dirk had told Camilla that the rest of the gang could take care of Ruiz and his men, he wasn’t so sure. He felt like he should be there. Instead, here he was, stuck in close quarters with the most stunning woman he had seen in a long while.

There was something about having Camilla in his home that deeply unsettled him. It was like living in close proximity with a panther—you never knew when she would jump you. Camilla’s raw sexuality emanated off her in waves, sometimes probably without her even realizing it. It was a siren’s call that Dirk had found himself unable to resist at first, and just barely able to resist now. It had taken all of his renowned self-control not to knock on Camilla’s door at the club’s headquarters for the past eleven nights. Now she was here, in his house, in his territory, and he could almost smell her. She was both hunter and prey, and Dirk really was not sure how to deal with her.

He winced when a noise in the house snapped him out of his reverie. A door opening. Camilla’s door. She appeared in the kitchen’s doorway a few minutes later, wearing nothing but a shirt that was one size too big for her. Dirk swallowed hard and took another long sip of his coffee to try and wash down the erection he could already feel blossoming within the confinement of his jeans. 

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning,” Dirk greeted, as laconically as he could. He watched as she hesitated in the doorway. “You can come in, you know?” he said after a moment, taking pity on her. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot. The fridge is stocked, and there is bread for toast if you’d like to have breakfast.”

Camilla stared at him, visibly surprised at his kindness.

Dirk rolled his eyes. “What? You thought I’d let you starve?”

He couldn’t explain why it made him so mad that she seemed so surprised by the fact that he wasn’t chaining her up somewhere and leaving her to wither. She thought she was his prisoner, and that annoyed him, even if it was technically true. He couldn’t explain why it was just so damn important to him that she felt safe in his presence.

“Would you like some breakfast, too?” Camilla said, as she won over her hesitations and began rummaging through the cabinets for food and cutlery.

Dirk shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

He watched her as she cooked. Camilla moved with a continuous grace. She swung her curvaceous hips about as if she was dancing. And that’s when it hit him, and he had to wonder why he had not seen it before. She was trying to seduce him—right here…in his kitchen.

His mind raced. Why was she doing this? Was it because her desire for him was as strong and irresistible as his desire for her?

Dirk shook his head.
Don’t be stupid,
he reprimanded himself.
She wants something.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it really was that Camilla was after. Freedom. She felt trapped, and she longed for more access to the house. It was the only thing he could give her, and they both knew it. Seducing him had almost worked in the past. If they had kept up their nightly rendezvous at the headquarters much longer, Dirk knew he would have eventually broken down and bargained with Stephan for her release. Hell, he might have even gone so far as to help her escape.

He grinned into his mug. Things were going to go down very differently this time. This time, he would be completely in charge, and he would make sure that Camilla knew it.

He stood and walked up to her, stopping half a step behind her as she stood at the stove scrambling eggs. He felt her stiffen at his presence, but to her credit, she did not move. He admired her all the more for it. He leaned down so that his lips were grazing the shell of her ear.

“I know what you’re doing, Camilla,” he whispered.

He felt her shiver at the contact of his breath on her skin.

“What…what are you talking about?” she said.

Dirk smirked. “Come on, now,” he said. “You’re too smart to play this game. You walked in here wearing nothing but a t-shirt and your hair cascading down your shoulders. It’s only because you’re hoping I’ll take you.”

Camilla stiffened. She did turn around now. “What did you say?” There was fire in her green eyes.

Dirk’s grin got bigger. “Deny it,” he challenged her. “Say that’s not what you’re doing. Say you don’t want me to take you like I’ve taken you before.”

“How dare you—?”

Dirk easily caught her wrist before the slap could connect with his cheek. He brought his face closer to hers. “Deny it,” he challenged her again.

Camilla didn’t. Instead, she surged forward and captured his mouth in a passionate kiss.

Dirk grunted in surprise and pleasure. She fumbled with the stove’s knobs and turned it off, and then Dirk wrapped a strong arm around her waist and pulled her away from the hot burners. Without thinking, he lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist just as automatically. He brought her over to the table and set her down, opening her thighs with both hands. She responded immediately—willing, eager. Dirk’s whole body felt like it was on fire with desire for her.

He didn’t prep her, and Camilla didn’t complain. It was hot and rough and messy, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way—and from the way she moaned in ecstasy with every one of his thrusts, neither would she. He felt her clench around him with every move, every push, every moment of friction. Her mere tightening around him was doing things to Dirk that he had not experienced in forever. Not even their clandestine encounters at the headquarters had been this mind-blowing—even though he had thought they were the hottest things he had ever experienced.

There was something about Camilla. There was something about her body, the way she moved. There was something about her touch that scorched his skin. There was something about the way she let herself be taken, and at the same time seemed to take him, leaving him little-to-no choice as to how their bodies would fuse together. She was both prey and hunter, and it was a combination that drove Dirk insane.

He didn’t know how long they kept going on the kitchen table, Camilla sitting on the edge with her legs wrapped around his waist and his cock inside of her. It was a whirlwind of raw sensations that Dirk was all too glad to let himself get swept up by. It was like nothing he had ever had.
She
was like no one he had ever had. He felt a pang of guilt as those thoughts entered his mind, but then he told himself that it had been different with Eleanor. There had been an emotional connection there, one that was irreplaceable and that he would be very careful not to let happen again with anyone—ever. With Camilla, it was just raw, animal instinct.

They were both panting by the end, and Dirk disentangled himself and pulled out of her as quickly and gently as he could.

She looked up at him, a smirk on her full, kiss-swollen lips. “So,” she said, “will you show me one more room now?”

Dirk grinned. “Nope.”

Chapter 17: Freedom?

Camilla did not give up. She continued to seduce Dirk, and she told herself she was doing it in order to buy something that resembled freedom—and not because she found herself simply unable to resist him. There was just
something
about Dirk. The more she had of him, the more she wanted him. It was as if, no matter how many times she had him, she couldn’t get enough.

The fact that he seemed to be slowly succumbing to her hot flatteries gave her all the more reason to continue on her mission. Every time they had sex, he seemed to open up just a little bit more. He seemed to soften, even, to the point that he now seemed to almost welcome her presence in his house. Camilla refused to stop and ask herself just why it made her so happy that an emotional connection was slowly but surely beginning to form on top of a sexual one. It was dangerous territory, and she decided that it was best if she steered clear away from it.

It was one evening, halfway through dinner, after a particularly intense session on the Persian-like rug in the living room that he finally relented.

Dirk looked up from his bowl of chili and said, “I guess you could walk around other parts of the house now. If you’d like.”

Camilla froze with the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Really?” she said, surprised. “Do you mean it?”

Dirk shrugged. “I guess,” he said again, carefully.

“To be honest,” she said, “I thought you were going to jerk me around for a little while longer.”

Dirk grinned. “So did I,” he admitted. “But I got tired of the game.”

Camilla’s face fell. “Oh.” She had no idea what was up with her. She should be happy that she had finally gotten him to give in. She should be ecstatic that she was finally allowed freedom of movement. Then why was she disappointed that it was over? Why was she already missing his hot body over hers?

“I’m not talking about the sex,” Dirk said, as if reading her mind. “
That
part I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of.” His smirk got wider.

Camilla tried to ignore the huge wave of relief that washed over her then. “So,” she began carefully, “you’re saying that I can walk around the house
and
I still get to have sex with you?” She had not meant to make it sound like such a prize, but she just couldn’t help it; the man was a sex god.

Dirk laughed. “Yes,” he said. “If you’d like,” he added again, for good measure.

Camilla couldn’t help but smirk back. “I think I’d like that very much.” She paused, frowning. “
All
parts of the house?” she asked, wanting to make sure that she really could walk around as she pleased.

“Yes,” Dirk confirmed. “All parts of the house. Of course, you can’t go outside.”

“Of course,” Camilla said grimly. She sighed. “I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

Dirk grimaced. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Camilla looked up, shocked. He sounded sincere. “For what?”

“All of it,” he said. “This whole situation. I know it can’t be easy for you. But we really don’t have any other choice.”

“Yeah, you do,” Camilla said grimly. “You could let me go.”

It was Dirk’s turn to sigh now. “You know we can’t do that. Do you want to get yourself killed?”

Camilla stared at him, unafraid to meet his gaze straight on. “Sometimes I really think you and you precious president are only using that as an excuse to keep me here.”

Dirk blinked, taken aback. To his credit, he had the good grace not to say anything.

“Anyway,” Camilla said after a few moments of silence, “thanks for finally granting me the freedom to stretch my legs.”

Dirk winced visibly, which surprised her. Was she really getting to him?

They finished their meal in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Afterwards, Camilla selected a book from the library in the living room and retreated back to her room. She meant to explore the house that night, when Dirk was sleeping and she wouldn’t feel observed at all times. It unnerved her, the way he constantly seemed to keep an eye on her. The situation was becoming unbearable, to the point that Camilla almost wished the Tar Mongols would hit fast and hard, so that the Minutemen could put Ruiz and his gang back in their place and everything could finally be over. She couldn’t wait to be on a flight to New York—if the Minutemen ever put her on one. Even though she was getting to know Dirk, she really couldn’t bring herself to trust him just yet.

She settled on the bed and opened a fancy edition of Jules Verne’s
20,000 Leagues under the Sea
. She wished that was where she could be, too. She wished she could be leagues away from California and the Mojave Desert. She wished she could be leagues away from the Minutemen and the Tar Mongols and their absurd, violent politics. But try as she might—and she really
did
try—Camilla couldn’t bring herself to wish that she could be away from Dirk Coleman.

***

The rest of Dirk’s house was just as eclectic as the part Camilla already knew. There was a studio with more books and papers and a desk, which was kept surprisingly orderly. There was a recreational room with a pool table and a jukebox and a collection of discs and vinyl that would be the envy of any radio station.

There was Dirk’s room, and Camilla imagined she would be allowed to enter it now that she had been granted wider access. However, she let it be for the time being; tonight wasn’t about sex. Tonight was about exploring. More important, it was about finding a way out. It was becoming more and more obvious that, if she ever wanted to be back in New York, she would have to find a way there on her own.

The front door was not an option, and neither was the back door in the kitchen. Sure, she could sneak outside, but then what? Running on foot through the desert seemed like an almost surer way of getting herself killed than being delivered to the Tar Mongols. She shuddered at the latter possibility. She had never met Herman Ruiz, and she was fairly certain she didn’t want to meet him. Ever.

She quickly decided that, if she were ever to get out of there, she would need transportation.
The garage.
The thought entered her mind suddenly, and she reprimanded herself for not having thought of it sooner. The garage was connected to the house through a door that emerged onto a flight of stairs, which, in turn, led to the hall. She could sneak down there and steal either Dirk’s beloved Harley-Davidson or his car. Camilla wished she could steal both, so that he would have no means to go after her, but she knew she would have to choose.

In the silence of the house at night, she sneaked over to the door in the hall. She wasn’t surprised to find it locked. She tried every key that hung on the wall by the front door, but none of them seemed to fit inside the lock. Cursing softly, Camilla went outside through the back door in the kitchen. Dirk didn’t bother locking that one, probably because he, too, knew that escaping on foot in the desert wasn’t something Camilla was stupid enough to do.

Camilla shivered in the night air of the Mojave Desert. She used to think that the desert was beautiful, but the recent events and her current predicament had led her to loathe the damn thing. She walked over to the garage door, and once again, she tried every key. And once again, none of them worked.

Camilla stared at the white, pristine garage door, taunting her with its impregnability. To her dismay, she quickly realized she had no way to get in. An image flashed through her mind then. Dirk’s powerful chest, heaving as he rode her. And dangling from his neck, a chain with two military plates and one key. She had no doubt that was the key to her freedom.

Disheartened, Camilla sat on the kitchen’s doorstep and looked up at the night sky. Thousands of stars blinked down at her, but for the very first time in her life, that majestic sight didn’t soothe her. She felt as though even the stars were mocking her with their twinkling.

Camilla took her head in her hands and sighed heavily. The need to escape was getting stronger by the minute, and now that she had some sort of a plan, it had become an all-consuming urge that made her skin crawl.

“Chilly night,” Dirk’s voice said from behind her.

Camilla jumped. She turned around and watched as he came to join her on the doorstep. Despite herself, she shifted to the side so that he could have enough room.

He, too, looked up at the sky, and unlike her, he seemed comforted by it.

“So,” he said, “plotting your escape?”

Camilla did her best to school her expression into one of stone that wouldn’t betray her emotions or the way her heart was hammering within her ribcage. “I’m not that stupid,” she said. “Where would I go on foot? Best case scenario, I’d end up as a coyote’s dinner.”

Dirk smiled. His eyes, however, were hard, and Camilla had the sinking feeling that he knew what thoughts had been going through her head. “That is indeed the best case scenario,” he said.

Camilla shivered, and it wasn’t the good kind of shiver that he usually elicited from her. She realized then that the familiarity that had been blossoming between them was not only (mostly) fake; it was also dangerous. Camilla had become too comfortable in Dirk’s presence, so much so that she had forgotten about just how dangerous he really was.

“Don’t play games with me, Camilla,” he said, as if reading her mind.

Camilla swallowed hard, and she didn’t care if he caught the gesture. “I’m not playing games,” she said, and she was proud of the way her voice didn’t waver.

Dirk studied her for a few endless moments, and then he nodded. “Good.” He patted her knee and stood up. “Come back inside now. It’s cold out here.”

Camilla obeyed, because what else could she do? They went their separate ways, to their separate bedrooms, and Camilla burrowed under the covers. She thought of Kurt, back in New York. Was he looking for her? He probably was—he
had
to be. How was it possible that he had not found her yet? He had some of the best connections in the world of reporters. Were the Minutemen really
that
good at wiping their tracks?

Camilla exhaled sharply. They probably were. The Minutemen was no ordinary biker gang. The members were all veterans, military men who knew their way around. If anyone could baffle Kurt Davis, it was Stephan Walker and his MC. She shivered. A chill had settled into her bones, and she had the feeling it had little to do with the cold night air of the Mojave Desert.