Hard Roads (6 page)

His hands released mine and when they gripped my shirt, I attempted to push him away with my bound hands. He must have weighed twice as much as me and despite my efforts, a ripping sound echoed through the room as he tore the cloth apart. The cold air of the room met with my heated skin and my nipples hardened, regardless of the fact that I wasn’t anywhere near turned on. Tears escaped my eyes when I realized that the inevitable would happen: right here, right now and on top of a nasty mattress with a blanket that would most likely burn as it rubbed against my skin.

His weight moved down my body until he was sitting on my legs. No matter how much I twisted and turned, I couldn’t throw him. My legs were plastered in place and I was unable to kick. Large fingers were on the button of my jean shorts and the zipper ripped down as soon as he pushed the metal button through the loop. He climbed off me, reaching over to continue holding me in place as he slipped the material off my legs. I brought up my knees in my attempt to stop him, but it was useless when his hand came down and his fingers pressed into the side of my knee, threatening to pop the cap out of place. I yelped, lowering my leg as he ripped the jean shorts away from my body. Panic gripped me so tightly that I barely registered the fact that he was talking.

“You keep asking me to rape you. So, I’m not understanding why you’re fighting against it. Do you like it rough, babe? Is this the kind of thing you like? Because you’re doing everything in your fucking power to ask for it.”

His voice was calm, sardonic and mocking. It wasn’t anger that seeped from the tone in his voice. It was contempt and disbelief. “I’m not one of the brothers from your
daddy’s
club, little girl, and I don’t give a fuck what the Joker thinks about the way I treat you.”

My underwear were off next and I slammed my legs together desperate to keep him from touching me. His eyes were heated as he looked over my exposed skin, his tongue peeking out to run along the swell of his lower lip. Shadows dipped into his cheeks and stubble ran along his jaw. His hair hung loose around his head, framing the beauty of his masculine features. It was odd to look at a man who was so attractive yet ugly at the same time.

He didn’t force himself on me like I thought he would. Instead, he stood up and walked across the room to reach for the bag he’d dropped on the floor when we’d first arrived. It was an opportunity to run and regardless of the fact that my hands were bound and I had no clothing, I took it. Pushing up with my bound hands, I raced for the door again, this time going for the lock before the knob. Despite my best efforts, I still wasn’t fast enough to escape him in this cramped motel room. All it took was three steps and he had me in his arms again, squeezing me so tight that I couldn’t draw in air. My vision tunneled, my head fell back and darkness overtook me as my wide eyes watched a dark smile cross his lips.

. . .

When my eyes cracked open again, the first thing I noticed was the throbbing pain in my shoulder. My arms were above my head and my feet were tied at opposite ends of the bedpost. Every part of me besides my back was exposed to the cold air in the room. Memory flooded back and took over the haze of sleep. I pulled every appendage of my body only to find that each one was tied to the bed. I was stuck in place, vulnerable and uncovered. When I moved my head to look around the room, I didn’t see JD at first. However, sounds were coming from the bathroom, a low groaning followed by the sound of metal clinking against the porcelain sink.

“Fuck! Son of a fucking bitch!” His low voice was followed by the sound of sloshing liquid and a bottle slamming against the counter.

Water ran in the sink for several seconds. When it turned off, I heard his steps re-entering the room. I closed my eyes, praying that he would think I was still asleep and leave me alone long enough to come up with some plan that would get me out of this motel room. When his weight hit the chair directly in front of the bed, I heard the wood thud against the wall.

I needed him to untie me, to release me just long enough to duck and run. I wasn’t going to convince him with words because it seemed like everything I had to say pissed him off in one way or the other. This was a moment where I needed to think quickly, act smart and drop the megabitch attitude that I’d always worn like clothing within the walls of my club. What options had I been given besides being a woman? I couldn’t overpower him. I couldn’t outrun him. There was nothing I could say or do to convince him to let me go. I could only think of one thing that could earn me my freedom and despite how the thought disgusted me, I realized that this situation was life or death. Play the game or meet the reaper.

Cracking open my eyes again, I stared at the ceiling and moved my hips on the bed, pretending that I was just waking up and discovering that I was bound. He didn’t speak or move, but I could distinctly hear the sound of the bottle tipping to his lips. I didn’t know for sure, but I could feel his eyes watching me. I moved again, pulling at my arms and legs before relaxing back against the mattress.

I expected him to say something, to break the silence with a sarcastic remark, but he didn’t. I realized that if any communication was going to occur, that I would be the one who needed to start it. My lips felt brittle when I opened my mouth to talk and my throat felt like sawdust had been shoved inside to remove all the moisture from my system.

“JD?” My voice was rough and gritty, squeaking out from my throat to cross my lips on the heat of my expended breath. He didn’t respond except to raise the bottle to his lips again. I could hear the liquid bubble and I could hear his throat as he forced it down. Fear tickled along my spine, but I wouldn’t let it stop me from trying. The only focus I had was on saving myself.

“JD, I ne … I need water please. My throat is so dry.”

He was silent for a moment or two, to a point where I wondered if he’d left the room. Lifting my head from the pillow, the headache that I didn’t realize I had suddenly rallied against me, placing a vice around my brain and allowing dizziness to rush in and take hold. When my eyes finally caught sight of him, he was sitting in the chair without his shirt on, his jeans were unbuttoned at the top and I could see where thick, black stitches ran about an inch up from his hip. In one hand he held the Jack Daniels bottle on the desk beside him and his amber eyes were rimmed red from the effects of the half bottle he’d apparently drank.

He smiled a crooked grin, anger still apparent in his gaze. “Afraid I can’t help you there, Munch. The water is in the bathroom, you’re tied to a bed and I don’t have a cup.”

He leaned forward in the chair, the shock of pain evident in the way his face twisted with the movement. The bottom of the bottle slid against the wooden desk when he pulled it to himself, taking another swig before resting it on his leg. “What I do have is this whiskey, which I tried to offer to you earlier before you decided to BE A FUCKING CUNT!”

My body jumped at the volume of his voice and I laid my head back down on the pillow, preferring to stare at the ceiling instead of the angry man who sat in front of me. I realized in that moment that I’d never really been scared in my life. Not when I watched my daddy kill people and not when I learned that my mother was dying and leaving me alone in this world. Nothing fazed me in my life. At least, not until this moment and this man. I couldn’t believe the heavy weight of fear that held me prisoner. When I heard the chair slap against the wall again, his boots move across the floor and felt the bed dip down from his weight, every muscle and nerve ending in my body tightened and pinged on high fucking alert. Like a deer in headlights, I couldn’t move. All I could do was wait as he crawled up the bed towards me.

His head came into view followed by the broad, smooth width of his bare chest. He spread his legs so that they were folded under him, bent at his knees, which he pushed under my legs and rested on either side of my hips, pushing my hips up and into position. The zipper of his jeans was pressed up between my legs and he balanced himself over me with one arm while holding the bottle with the other.

Holding it up so that I could see it, he smiled. “Would you like a drink, Munch? Is it good enough for you now?” Tilting the bottle, he let a few drops fall on my cheek. He smiled brighter. “Oh, damn. Looks like I missed your mouth.”

Bending over, he brought his face to mine and licked up the trail of the drops. My body shuddered when his chest brushed up against the erect tips of my breasts. He smelled like soap and shampoo; something masculine, a spice mixed with musk. When he pulled back, fire was stoked behind the gold amber of her eyes. “Wanna see if I can get it in your mouth this time?”

I shook my head, but he only let out a dark laugh and tipped the bottle so that the whiskey poured over my closed mouth.

“Fuck, Munch. You didn’t open up.”

When he bent down this time, his lips pressed tightly against mine, his jaw opening so that my mouth opened with his. The whiskey that was on my lips dropped into my mouth, pushed deeper by the thickness of his tongue. He kept his chest hovering over me so that it barely touched mine and the warmth of his skin seeped into me. Despite my anger and fear, my body responded. I could feel myself grow wet from where his jeans brushed up against me. My legs fell open and my breasts swelled to be touched. He kissed me with such passion that I lost myself to the moment, my breath stolen and my lungs burning for air. When he finally broke the kiss, he pushed himself up, taking the opportunity to look down my body and back up into my eyes.

Using his arm, he wiped the whiskey from his mouth, smiling before commenting, “Oh damn. Looks like there is still some on your neck. I should probably clean that up.” He winked and when his mouth met the skin of my neck, I melted into the uncomfortable fucking mattress on the bed. A sigh escaped my lips and his chest rumbled against me when he laughed in response. On a deep growl, he asked, “You like that baby? Because I can promise you this whiskey only tastes better when it’s on your skin.”

I couldn’t help the tremors that tore through me. His tongue felt hot as he dragged it across my skin, the trail left behind suddenly felt cold when exposed to the air in the room. My back arched and the pain in my shoulder was dulled by the way my body heated to have him near me. I allowed my head to fall back and I cried out when I heard the liquid slosh in the bottle and felt it trail in rivulets over my breasts. His hot tongue lapped up the alcohol, sweeping over my nipples and forcing the air once again from my lungs.

“Oh, fuck…” The words escaped me before I could stop them. His drunken lust was becoming my own. His jeans pressed harder against me and I knew he’d become hard. My hips bucked up and he took one nipple into his mouth, softly biting it between his teeth before moving to the other breast. His tongue followed the trail of alcohol down along my abdomen and to where it had pooled over my belly button. I peered down, watching as his lips slid over the skin of my stomach and he looked up suddenly, with nothing but wicked thoughts obvious in his gaze.

“How about now, beautiful?” his voice was as rough as mine, the muscles of his shoulders flexing as he moved even farther south. “Still thirsty?” Lifting the bottle again, he tilted it over my core, pouring the liquid down along the slick skin. The alcohol burned the sensitive skin, but when his mouth covered me, a carnal moan escaped my lips mixed with the lust and absolute need he stirred inside me. His tongue swirled over my clit as he licked me clean and after he finished lapping at the center of my core, he brought his hand up to press a finger inside. My legs trembled on either side of his head and I dropped my head back to the pillow one more time.

I should have stopped him, should have fought off every effort he made to force himself on my body, but I didn’t want him to stop. The word ‘no’ was no longer part of my vocabulary as his hands and tongue pushed me over an edge that was so erotic, it felt like I was lost and floating in a thick sea of my own desire.

Chapter Seven

~ JD ~

The woman had my attention and after placing the bottle of Jack on the floor by the bed, my hands ran up the insides of her thighs pushing her legs apart as far as they would go. When the ropes prevented me from pushing her knees up to her ears, I was instantly fucking aggravated, quickly grabbing my knife from my back pocket and forcing myself away from her exquisite cunt to reach down and cut the bastards off her ankles. A quiet complaint escaped her lips as soon as my mouth no longer covered her. My lips turned up into a wicked grin at the sound. I was drunk as fuck, completely numb and my side burned like it would split from my movement, but I didn’t. Fucking. Care. My cock was rock hard in my pants and I wanted to bury myself inside her.

This woman was as addictive as the best blow in town: smooth like butter and the type that caused a sweet heat to spread over your body as soon as you tasted it.

As soon as the ropes were cut away from her ankles, I shoved her legs so high that her knees completely covered her ears. I watched her face for a moment, enjoyed the expression of desperation and need that had replaced the typical angry scowl. She was beautiful. Without a lick of makeup and naturally tan skin she looked nothing like the club sluts and heel-locks that occupied the majority of my nights.

Reaching down, I slid my finger over her lips, chuckling at how wet she’d become. She moaned out and I almost fucking lost it just watching the sound roll out of her mouth. I ached to kiss her, but she was so wound up that I ached to hear her scream out my name more.

I lowered myself while gripping her legs, holding them in place above my head as I buried my face between her legs. Her body arched and I heard her breath blow hard from her lungs. I looked up and watched her as I lapped, nipped and sucked. Her head would shake slowly back and forth and I knew she was trying to keep from going over that edge … but I sure as fuck wasn’t havin’ it. If I wanted this girl screaming, she would be screaming.

Shoving my tongue deep inside her, I kept pushing in and pulling out until the noises coming from her mouth reminded me of a volcano that was about to explode. She was a fighter in every aspect, even in bed, but I was bound and determined to win this, to show her that despite how much she hated me, I would own her body if I wanted it.