In Bed With The Outlaw (5 page)

Red finally turned around and looked at me. “Or you can stay on me, even better.”

I abruptly took my hands off him. “You have a strange way of trying to make a girl on the verge of tears feel better.”

“You're not thinking about crying now, are you?”

With a harrumph, I swung my leg off the bike. “What are we doing here?”

He waved me on. “Come on,” he said. “I promise you'll feel better once we get to the top.”

What was waiting for me up there? I got a bad feeling about it.

It occurred to me then if Red found me out, I’d be in a lot of trouble. We were in the middle of nowhere. And he was leading me up a mountain, to its peak, a perfect place to dispose of me. Still, I could never see Red doing it.

I climbed the hill with him, this trail more adventurous than the last one. There were rocky overhangs we needed to climb, a difficult venture with my short legs. For Red, baby steps.

“Why were you at my apartment?”

He didn't bother to turn around. Why wouldn't that bastard at least face me and tell me what was going on? I had no choice but to keep following.

“Making sure you didn't get another black eye.”

Desert brush, the prickly junca, the tall, exotic-looking joshua trees, the colorful flowers of the sage and the porina—coming from Maryland, it all looked like it belonged on another planet.

Something caught my sight up ahead. A rabbit hopped onto the trail, directly in front of Red. I squealed at once. It was a cute, fluffy bunny, with the cutest looking mane.

“Red, grab it,” I yelled, excited, sure it would scurry away.

He stopped and turned to me. “Grab it?”

I clapped and pointed. “I want it. It's so cute.”

But as soon as I pointed again, it hopped up the trail, scurrying much too fast.

“No, don't go,” I said.

The bunny took another look then scampered into the brush.

“Aww, it’s gone.”

He shrugged. “You'll see more, I'm sure.” He continued higher.

I hurried after him. “I wasn't done looking at it.”

Not wanting to annoy him further, I stayed quiet despite my growing exhaustion. He was right about one thing: I was no longer upset. Exercise plus the outdoors brought me out of my shocked shell.

A smooth, curved rock formation rose from the top. It opened up to a beautiful view of arches, dunes, and a clear sky. Here nature had been completely preserved. It looked too pristine, too untouched. The sight instantly calmed me and sucked me in.

“That's not it,” he said.

He pointed to a sister mountain with a natural bridge, formed entirely out of worn rock, spanning the chasm. The edges weren’t steep, so if one of us took a tumble, we’d probably be able to catch the ledge, but it wasn’t a happy thought. Once again, I would be forced to get closer to Red. It was beginning to seem like that was his idea all along.

He started. I waved at him. “Hey, wait for me.”

At the beginning of the bridge, he held out his hand. “I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Shaking it off, I bristled at the idea and then took his hand without a thought. “Don’t let me fall.”

Across the bridge, we were looking at a cavern-like tunnel leading to another overhang. Red took quick steps, taking the first few steps naturally, as if there wasn’t a lethal drop below us. I kept up.

“Not so fast,” I warned him. My heart thumped so hard in my chest it seemed like it might knock me off the bridge.

“Keep holding my hand and you’ll be fine.”

Oh, I could’ve swooned, if it wouldn’t make me lose my footing. The bridge was only ten feet across, but it was still nerve-wracking, requiring all of my focus. But Red was right. Holding his hand, keeping my sights directly on him, it was far easier than I expected.

On the other side, I released my death grip and planted my hands on my thighs, letting my breath catch up.

“We’re here,” he said, waiting for me, hands on his hips.

“Sorry. I’m ready,” I said, wanting to reach out and take his hand again, but reminding myself that we weren’t at the hand holding stage yet. I headed into the tight cavern that opened up to the lookout point.

Soft, yellow grass cushioned my soles as I approached the magical view of the desert. Red dropped down. I sat beside him.

Nearing dusk, soon more colors would seep into the already majestic canvas.

“It's beautiful,” I said. It really didn't need to be said, but Red was too quiet for my tastes. It made me uneasy.

“Feel better now?”

He already knew the truth. I felt better. He wanted to hear it.

“Yes,” I said. “Thanks, and thank you for saving me back there.”

“Are you still seeing him or what?”

“No, I'm not seeing him. He probably looked me up in a cop database or asked a friend. He came unannounced and drunk.”

“Unannounced and drunk, that's the worst,” he said. He kicked his black boot out. Wasn't he hot in all that leather? But he wouldn't take off the jacket. It was like if he took it off, he might disintegrate, turn into dust before my eyes and be swept away by the wind.  I imagined him appearing before me in a polo shirt and khakis, but that wouldn't work. How about nothing at all?

“Aren't you hot?” I asked him.

“I'm fine,” he said, his smile glowing in the sunset.

Unease made me curl my toes and stiffen my legs. I tensed. Red was close. Really close. Some sort of magnetism worked between us, and it became extremely apparent while gawking at a sunset. It seemed like a fine time to kiss.

But I was afraid. Why did that jacket have to still be on? Why did he always have to remind me he was a Blessed Bastard? That was the sad truth though, wasn’t it? He was sworn into that life...

“I want to believe you're nice. You seem like a nice guy. But you can't be nice in your kind of work, can you?”

His intense gaze swept over me for a second. Did I say something wrong?

“I never wanted to join The Bastards. It was a couple years ago. Damn, probably about five or six, now that I think about it. I was working at a bike shop, doing my own thing. I knew my brother, Jackal—”

“Wait, your brother's name is Jackal?”

“It's Jack. Long story, but everyone calls him Jackal. It involves a lot of shrooms and peyote, but it's a good one. I’ll tell you another time.”

“Hmm, okay,” I said with a shrug, thinking it was best to skip it.

“Anyway, my brother Jackal, he was part of The Bastards. I thought he was stupid for doing it. I thought he would end up in prison or killed. But one night, he picks me up, and says he's got a surprise for me. My dad, he was an abusive son of a bitch. He was so abusive…” He stopped there. Pain marred his otherwise beautiful face. His pain crossed over to me.

“I’m sorry,” I told him.

“He killed my mom,” he told me, his voice grim while he peered out at the sunset like it was meaningless. “Never got put away for it.”

“I'm sorry, Red,” I said again. “That’s terrible. I can’t believe he got away with it.”

“All politics.” He continued, lost somewhere in the darkness of his past. “We show up at this house. I don't know whose house it is, because I've lost touch with him. But The Bastards, they break down the door, and then I see my old man, he's sitting on his couch, drinking a beer, relaxing. He’s greeted by a punch. You can guess what happened next. He's beaten until he's knocking on death's door. I tell them to stop near the end. The Bastards are unrelenting.”

I squirmed and cringed. Was this supposed to make me feel better? I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know the story why Red became who he was, so I listened, but it wasn’t easy.

“My brother takes out a gun. I'm pleading with him not to do it. He puts it in my hands. He wants me to shoot him. The others are telling me it's justice. My old man is asking for forgiveness, but it’s a little too late for that. I still can’t do it. When I can't do it, my brother does.  After that, they took me out for some wings and some beer. I was in shock, but the next day, I went out with them again. And again. And soon enough, I realized who my true family was.”

So...happily ever after? It sounded more like a horror story.

“But they killed him. Doesn't that upset you?” I asked, leaning in closer, trying to break his icy barrier.

“I struggle with it every day. I'm not sure what the answer is. At the time, I was fine with letting go. I figured that was the way it had to be. The system was screwed, and I knew it, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I had to admit that it felt good to see him in pain for what he did to my mom. She was a lovely, caring woman, didn't deserve what happened to her. I went with the group because they made me feel like there was something I could do about all the injustice in the world. The law wasn't working for me, so we took the law into our own hands. It felt good, but I still struggle with what Jackal did to my dad. I still don't know if it was right or not.”

I could see his eyes flicker and the sharp lines start to crack. At this point, I wanted to wrap my arms around him, hug him, and tell him I understood.

How many times had I thought about getting revenge, or even justice, against my dad and Sam? Too many times to count. The questions would continue to haunt, another way for them to continue their abuse.

“I'm sorry,” I said. I remembered all of the terrible things that happened to me that were similar, but I didn't want to try to one-up him. I knew how annoying that could be.

Was I sympathizing with the devil?

“It's over with,” he said. “I found my true family. One who likes to ride as much as I do.”

“I can see why you threw Sam through a glass door now.”

“You think that was my first time?”

I chuckled at that. “I guess I won't be getting my deposit back.”

“If anything, they'll need to pay you once I fix up the place. I wouldn't mind doing it myself.”

I looked into his intense eyes for a moment, getting sucked in, but not swallowed completely. I recoiled, bunching together with my knees against my beating chest, and looked out at the distracting view.

He shifted closer, bearing down on me with his bright smile, another contradiction—that man was full of them. “Where are you from? I don't want to say it, but it doesn't look like you're from around here.”

“Maryland.” There was enough made-up backstory to feed him, but I didn't want to lie to him at the moment. I decided to keep it short and to the point.

“Maryland,” he said, stewing it over. “Why come here?”

“I wanted something different.”

“Guess you got it,” he said, his eyes tracing my curves. My body panged. I pressed my knees together, felt the friction of my thighs together, and decided I needed to stop all movement.

“I need to be honest with you, Red.”

No, not that honest. I wasn't going to tell him I was FBI, but I was going to lay my thoughts on the table. Could it be possible to cut some of that tension, or would I make it worse?

“Don't tell me you're wearing a wire.” I waited for his next move. If he didn’t look away and chuckle, I would’ve been sweating and looking for my exit.

“It's a joke. Relax.”

“I know you're kidding.”

“You were about to be honest with me,” he said.

“Oh, right. Yeah,” I started, fumbling at the beginning, since I didn't rehearse this, so whatever was going to be said flew out without any thought. It was all emotion. And potentially a very bad idea.

“Am I the type of girl you’re looking for? I'm not going to be one of the whores that get passed around the club. I'm not going to be a side thing, either. I don't think I fall into any of your categories that you guys have created. I'm sorry.”

It came out a lot harsher than I expected. It sounded like I was breaking up with him, which was funny, since we weren't together. He stole a kiss from me. That was it.

He didn't look wounded. He looked interested. “You're funny. You think that's what this is? Ash, I can't tell you where I'm going with this, because I honestly don't know. If I told you I did, I'd be lying to you. I don't want to lie, so I'll tell you one thing. I want you, and I’d never let another man lay a finger on you. Isn't that enough?”

Wasn't it? I wanted to say “I want you too,” but my lips didn't move. They froze, pursed together. In this desert heat, they were still plump and juicy. I must’ve been getting them wet with my tongue without noticing.

His eyes darted to my lips shining in the glow of the setting sun on top of that desert mountain, and he was trapped. I knew what was supposed to come next, but I didn't move, didn't say a word. I wasn't ready to make a move, but when he came into my lips to part them, I wasn't going to stop him, either.

He kissed me, igniting all that pent-up passion. I swerved my tongue with his, our tips touching every so often and freeing a whirlwind of bliss. He had his answer, and I didn't need to say a thing.

His giant, rough palm caressed the small of my back, bringing me closer to that sun-soaked leather. I was already burning up. When I touched it, I was on fire. When he got to my neck, kissing me tenderly, tenderer than I expected from a Blessed Bastard, a supposed brute, my strength gave out and I fell back onto the bed of wild grass.

My thighs clamped together, fighting to open and close, not sure which they wanted to do. My mind told them to close, my body told them to open wider, to invite him deeper. Red would do what he wanted. Red didn’t need permission. He pinned my wrists down, caressed my neck with kisses, and traveled down to my cleavage, dragging a trail of fire to my breasts. My thighs spread wide, letting his hardness press me down.

A moan slipped as he got to my breasts. As he grabbed a handful and marveled, I became aware of where we were. We might be alone for now, but for how long?

“Wait,” I said.

His hand came higher. Fingers curled around my shirt, ready to pull it up. When he noticed my hesitation, he stopped.

Once again, he had given me enough time to throw in the towel. I wanted desperately for him to continue, to take me, to use me until I was melting in his arms, all worries washed away from a brilliant orgasm, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all.