Dogfight (Alpha MC: The McKinnon Brothers Book 1) (6 page)

None of those things explained the fear she felt in his presence. All of them together? Maybe.

He sat back in the driver’s seat and punched a number into his phone. “Tire fell off,” he grumbled.

She glanced out the back window to see the trailer sitting an angle. “Didn’t you check it after we got hit?”

“I did. Obviously it was worse than I thought.” Someone answered, getting his attention. He gave them their location, ended the call, and leaned his head back against the seat.

“What are we doing?”

He spoke with his eyes closed, his Adam’s apple jumping with his words. “Waiting for a new tire.”

“Don’t we have a donut?”

“If we did, don’t you think I would have put it on?”

“What about getting to Frankie’s?”

He sighed. “Can’t go without the bike, can’t get the bike there without the trailer, can’t move the trailer without a new tire. We’ll get there a little later.”

Casey stared at his profile, the hot sun shining through the windshield throwing his face into sharp relief. He looked harmless enough. Well, no, he looked like someone she would normally keep away from. He exuded a don’t-piss-me-off persona, and she had done plenty to piss him off.

“Won’t Frankie be upset?”

His eyes popped open. “My God. Do you ever shut up?”

“Not usually.” She had spent the last two months as a silent ditz. It was nice to be talking again. He stared at her. She pressed her lips together, glaring at him, wishing she could make him disappear.

Finally he leaned back and closed his eyes again.

Casey watched the cars fly by, the sun beginning its descent into the afternoon. The car was still running, the A/C blasting cold air around them. She sighed, breathing deep. A mistake. She got a nose full of Connor, the deliciously heady scent.

“Shouldn’t you let Frankie know?”

He sighed, eyes still closed. “I sent him a text.”

“Was he mad?”

“Do you care?”

“If I’m going to try to convince him that I’m there for him, I’d prefer he be in a good mood, not pissed at us for being late.”

His mouth quirked at the corner. “You might have a better chance if he’s mad. Angry, rough sex. Let him take his anger out in bed and then stay with him. That’ll convince him more than the quick, controlling fucks you’ve been giving him.”

She felt her face get hot. “How would you know what kind of sex Frankie and I have been having?”

He did grin now. “Frankie likes to talk. Tells us all about the women he’s been with, including you.”

She did not like Connor knowing anything about her sex life. Damn Frankie. “He said I’m quick and controlling?”

His smile deepened, his eyes shut. The bastard was enjoying this.

“Don’t get me wrong, he liked it for a while. The quiet, docile woman outside, a domineering wildcat in bed. But he’s over it.”

The A/C was on high, but she felt hot all over. This conversation needed to be finished, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“It was an act.”

He opened his eyes, pinning her with their brilliant depths. His smile lingered, barely. “So Casey Keene is nothing like Jenny Cartwright?”

She shook her head, afraid to open her mouth. She didn’t like how he was looking at her, like she was something to eat.

“Then you’ll have no problem letting him fuck you? Hurt you?”

“Actually I do have a problem with that.”

“Even if it saves your life?”

She frowned. “I don’t like rough sex.” Her voice sounded small in the car. Connor was too close, relaxed in the driver’s seat, watching her with his dazzling eyes.

Those eyes traveled down her body, back up her bare legs, and lingered too long on her mouth before returning to her eyes. She knew she was blushing deeply.

“Maybe not with Frankie,” he said.

“Not with anyone.”

“No?”

She felt her heart racing, couldn’t catch her breath for some reason. She was shaking, but he couldn’t see that.

“Let’s find out.”

He moved too fast. One moment he was sitting in the seat beside her, next he was looming over her, her wrists caught in one hand, his knees between her legs, the seat falling backward so that she was lying helpless beneath him.

But she was far from helpless. She fought, bucked, tried to kick but couldn’t get her legs out from under the dashboard with him over her.

She did not like rough sex. Never had. She preferred to be in control, the one on top, so to speak. So why was this turning her on? If he did anything it would be rape. No, it would be rough sex unless she told him to stop.

Tell him to stop, Casey
, she thought.

His eyes darkened as he watched her, like a predator over its prey. His free hand loosened the belt and unbuttoned her jeans. Then he yanked them down, out of the way. She’d stopped fighting to catch her breath, but as his hand slipped into her underwear she gasped and struggled again.

There was no lead up, no build, no kissing or foreplay. His warm fingers found the bare folds of her, parted them, and slid inside. Deep inside. It hurt and she cried out.

“You’re wet. Why are you wet, Casey?”

She growled and arched her back trying to heave him off of her. But he was leaning on her chest just enough to keep her down, her wrists in his hand. He was too heavy, and as she arched, he slid his fingers deeper. She moaned, the pain so sweet.

He smiled and leaned close, his mouth at her ear. “What do you think Frankie’ll do to you?” He slid his fingers out slowly, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out again. “Do you think he’ll be this gentle?”

“Ha! Gentle?” She tried to put as much venom in her words as she could, but she could hear the tremble in her voice.

His laugh was deep, a murmur in her ear. “Not rough enough for you? Allow me to amend my mistake.”

He slammed his fingers into her, hard and deep, over and over.

His teeth nipped her ear, her neck. Something sharp pricked the delicate skin over her collarbone. Were his teeth so sharp?

The sensations wracking her body were foreign, pain and pleasure, fear and longing, hate and need. Though she had never had one during sex, she knew how to bring herself to orgasm. And she could feel one building.

No. She would not give that to Connor. If for no other reason than to prove him wrong, she would not come with his fingers inside her. She tensed, trying to think of something else, anything else, besides the feel of Connor over her, his breath on her neck, in her ear.

He laughed that deep laugh. “Don’t fight it, Casey.” She hated hearing her name in his mouth.

Suddenly her hands were free. She moved to fight him, but then her shirt was open, her bare breasts there for his hungry eyes. She tried to cover herself, but he grabbed her hands again, pinning them to the seat above her head.

And then his mouth was on her breast, his stubble scratching the soft skin, his teeth biting the tender peak before sucking it deep into the heat of his mouth where he tortured her with his tongue. All the while he fingers moved inside her. He pressed his thumb to her, and God help her, she moaned, arching her back once more.

He lifted his head, moving to the other nipple. She felt his hand release her wrists. She could fight him now, but she didn’t. Instead, she drove her fingers into his hair, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her, holding her against his erection while his fingers fucked her.

For one delirious moment, as her orgasm began to crest, she wanted nothing more than for him to fuck her with his cock. But that was ridiculous. She hated him. Loathed him.

But that one image was enough to break her. She cried out, stiffening in his arms as she came. His head left her breasts, and she opened her eyes long enough to see him watching her. He drove his fingers deeper, pressing her clit harder, and she couldn’t breathe.

She was lost in this moment, in this man she hated so much.

Chapter Fifteen

Connor watched her face as she came, her smooth mound warm and wet in his hand. She clenched tight around his fingers, her breath caught, and then finally she gasped, releasing her tensed body, and fell back into the seat.

He smiled, sliding his fingers out as she throbbed around him. In those last moments all he wanted was to put his mouth between her legs and taste her.

He’d told himself as he leaned over her that he’d done it to help her. Frankie wouldn’t be nice if he decided to use sex to find out who Casey really was, and Connor was positive Frankie would use sex. Rough, angry, painful sex. Much more so than the generous orgasm Connor had just given her.

But truthfully, he’d done it because he wanted to. He wanted to stick it to the alphas. He wanted to break through her control, shut her up. He wanted to feel her come. And he had. Being what he was he felt things more deeply. He’d felt her heart as it swelled. Felt the desire on her skin, the fear when his fangs emerged, pricking her delicate skin.

That had been an accident. It had been a while since he shifted, and for a moment he lost control. But she wouldn’t know any better.

He dropped back into his own seat, wiping his fingers on his jeans, leaving her to fix herself.

For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the roof. And then she pulled the handle, the seat jerking her upright, fastened her belt and rebuttoned her shirt. He could still hear her heart racing, but now it was from rage, not lust.

He shouldn’t have done that. Once Frankie got a hold of her, he was going to do everything in his power to make sure Frankie believed it was Casey who’d been hacking into his computer, at least until Connor found the evidence the alphas needed. If he managed to finish the job before Frankie killed her, then she could go on her merry way, doing whatever it was Casey Keene was out to do.

But, if Frankie got to her before Connor could get to him… well, he could at least hope it would be quick.

Casey crossed her arms and glared at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’ve heard.” He kept his eyes on his mirrors.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because you let me.”

He felt rather than saw her face flush.

“I didn’t
let
you.”

“Didn’t hear you telling me to stop.” He met her eyes then. Hers were bright green, like new foliage in the beginning of summer. He liked them, and he didn’t want to. Right now they were narrowed at him, anger coming off her in waves.

“What if Frankie decides to use sex on
you
?” she spat. “He’s not picky about gender. He could try to rape you into telling him why you’re really there.”

He grinned. “Did you want to give me a taste of what he might do to me? I doubt you could handle it, but I’m more than willing to let you try.”

She pressed her lips together. “You don’t care if Frankie fucks you?”

“Why are you so interested? Did you want to watch?”

She was fuming, but trying so hard to keep her cool.

“Is that what turns you on? Watching two dudes go at it?”

Her face flushed, and her heart beat faster. Connor grinned, enjoying himself. Until he glanced in the side mirror. At the same moment a roar like thunder shook the car.

Two motorcycles pulled in front of them, two behind, and a black van. He could see Ronan in the passenger seat.

“Shit.”

Casey stared around wide-eyed. “This is your club?”

“Stay put,” he growled and got out, leaving her in the car.

It was hot outside, the air singeing his skin. The bikes’ guttural roar ceased as the riders climbed off. Ronan O’Neill stepped out of the van, his white hair tied back with a leather band, his handlebar mustache and beard reaching his belt. For a man in his eighties, he was fit, built like an ox, and tall. Connor was tall, but Ronan made him feel like a child.

Connor went to the bikes in front of him first, where his brother Aidan was coming toward him. Emmett , his cousin, was there as well. He embraced Aidan. Behind him, two riders pulled the tire from the van and got to work attaching it to the trailer.

Aidan was taller than Connor. Somehow, both his younger brothers had grown to be taller than him, but he could still beat the shit out of them if he needed to. Aidan pulled his helmet and sunglasses off, his curly mass of hair tied back.

He spoke quietly, his lips barely moving. The others might still hear, but Connor was hoping the traffic would hide anything they said. “They’re not happy.” Of course not. The alphas thought that every job should be quick and clean, but they forgot what it was like to be in the field. Things took time, especially when you needed proof before carrying out the execution.

Connor embraced Emmett before his young cousin joined the others. Aidan spotted Casey. She sat, biting her nail, watching them.

“Do me a favor,” Connor said, moving toward Ronan who was waiting for him. “Look more into her background. She has a lot on us. Look into that, too.”