Vipers Run (6 page)

Tenn had a gym set up for the guys, and during the early-morning hours it was pretty much empty. His guys were late-night partiers, and even if I'd wanted to sleep, it was off my agenda pretty much permanently, replaced by a simple grief so fresh it tended to catch me off guard at odd moments. Like my destiny had passed me by. Call it what you will, even laugh at me, but I wouldn't care. You don't when you connect with someone that deeply.

And now that he's here, you're pushing him away.

Or I'd at least tried. Cage was the first man in my life—the first person—to deliver on a promise. And I was trying desperately to see when the other shoe would drop and the promise would break.

But I'd gotten dressed in the clothes I'd
arrived in, clothing I'd let sit on a chair in the bedroom for a month while I'd wallowed in borrowed sweats and T-shirts.

I'd showered too, bringing myself to a tight, quick climax that left me slack-mouthed and tingly. I'd done it like I'd known he was somehow privy to my orgasm.

And so I was sitting there in the gym, dressed and waiting, when Tenn found me, although I don't think he was actually looking for me. His expression was troubled as he glanced at me and asked, “Are you all right?”

“You're not.”

He laughed a little. “I didn't pick up the fucking phone,” he said, his voice dark. “I was helping a kid and I saw it was Cage. Figured he hadn't been in touch for months, so fuck him, I'd get back to him when I was ready. Kid was really fucked. Beaten and needed a hospital.”

The guilt that choked his voice was immense. “Tenn, you didn't know . . .”

“I should've.”

“If you'd picked up, I wouldn't be here.”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Exactly,” I told him.

He shook his head.

“Cage doesn't blame you.”

“Makes it worse.”

“You were helping a kid. That's what you do.”

He glanced at me. “It was Kev—the one who's always writing.”

I put a hand to my throat. “The night I came here . . .”

“He was in the hospital already. Safe and sound. He came here about two days before I forced you to surface.” He stared up at the ceiling for a second. “Most of the guys I deal with are from fucked-up backgrounds. Not all, but—” He shrugged. “It's a type I know well.”

“Tenn—” I put a hand on his arm.

He drew in a breath, looked like he was making a decision, and then he began, “I got into porn when I was young. Forced into it.” He paused. “I liked it. That's not to say the business side of it wasn't like a second rape. But really, I started the business because of my mom. She was a whore—her word, not mine. ‘Escort' was always too fancy for her. No one protected her. I wasn't going to let that happen to anyone else if I could help it. I don't expect you to understand, but the background I came from . . . let's just say, I'd have killed to have someone provide me with a safe way to make this kind of money. They're going to do it anyway. If they do it with me, they've got a shot at getting on with their lives, or to keep going in this industry. Whatever floats their boat.”

“So going into the sex business helps unfuck things for them.”

“It's not that easy a link. It's probably more about control.”

I could understand that, more than he knew, but I didn't say anything. The reasons people made the choices they did were alternately fascinating and heartbreaking. “You take good care of these guys. Of me.”

“I try.”

“Who takes care of you, Tenn? Was there ever anyone special?”

He smiled. “At one point, yes.”

“And?”

“He ran into special forces and never looked back,” he admitted. “Probably better that way.”

“Or maybe he's thinking about you the same way you are him.”

“You're very bad for me, Calla,” Tenn warned, then sighed. “You can stay here, hon. But I think you're cheating yourself and I'm not sure why.”

“He's dangerous,” I blurted out.

“Best things in life usually are,” Tenn countered.

“You can keep me safe.”

“Of course I can. But the thing is, Cage already set his sights on you. Once that happens . . .” He shook his head, like I had no idea what I was in for.

“He does this with a lot of women?”

“Actually, no. Never. But I've seen him with a single-minded focus before—in the military, with the MC. Whatever he puts his mind to, he accomplishes. He's not an easy man, but he's worth it.”

He wasn't easy, but a part of me didn't want—didn't trust—easy. Maybe because I'd never been either easy or able to trust.

“I know you're angry about Cage's promise. Promises can be a freaky thing.”

“And the fact that he was alive and didn't tell me,” I added. “Let's not forget that.”

“Cage and my brother kept me in blackout mode too,” he said.

“Why?”

“A couple of reasons. Because Cage is in trouble—there are people still after him. Because it was safer for you, and for me and my business—for the guys involved.”

“Because whatever Bernie and Cage were involved in, I'm involved in it too.”

He didn't deny it. But he didn't expound on it either, deferring to Cage to tell me. Instead he offered, “Cage saved you in more ways than one. The only thing that stopped that was you taking Bernie's picture.”

“Why's that? They'd recognize you?”

“Maybe. They'd definitely recognize Cage. And
if they'd been smart enough to take out the back of the picture, you'd find names and latitude and longitude.”

“I should probably leave it with you, then.”

“That'd be best. I'll make you a copy, though,” he told me. “Wait—you said leave it with me. That means . . . ?”

I nodded. I'd met a protector in Bernie and now I had a friend and protector in Tenn. But with Cage, I might be able to have it all.

* * *

I left Tenn and went out to face the music. Cage was waiting, stretched out on the couch, his big black boots on the coffee table. His still-smoldering gaze met mine, as intense as a physical touch.

“I already figured that any woman who fights a dying man's wishes isn't going down easy,” he said.

I felt the need to point out the obvious. “You said you weren't going to die.”

“So you did believe some of what I told you.”

“That situation was one of a kind. Intense.”

“So it would've been like that with anyone?”

I crossed my arms across my chest. Shielding myself from him had already proven impossible, but I was stubborn. “Yes.”

“Bullshit. When did you start lying to yourself?”

For survival,
I wanted to shout
. Because I was
busy mourning you, when I couldn't finally do with you what I'd never done with anyone else.

So I didn't answer him. He got up in one swift movement, and I backed away a step or two, but no, he wasn't letting that happen. Mr. Tall, Dark and Commanding closed that space rapidly, leaving just enough room for me to not be completely threatened.

“Kiss me.”

“You can't order someone to kiss you.”

“I'm not ordering
someone
. I'm telling
you
to kiss
me
.”

My tongue darted out to lick the corner of my lip as I considered this. Very dangerous—or it could possibly prove that this pretense of attraction was just that. “Okay, fine.”

He raised his brows in that “I'm waiting” way.

I put my mouth on him and was rewarded with a bruising, brutal kiss that devastated my nervous system. Hands down destroyed it as he'd proved I'd been lying to myself.

“Damn you,” I murmured against his mouth, and then I stopped thinking. His arms came around me, steel bands, but warm. His whole body was so damned warm.

He murmured against my cheek, “Every second I was on that goddamned concrete floor, bleeding and waiting for help, I thought about
you. Every single day I was in that hospital, I thought about you.”

“You hung up.”

“I had to concentrate on not dying, Calla,” he said fiercely, then softened. “I want you to realize that I'm not going anywhere. Correction—I'm not going anywhere without you.”

I thought about him lying on the concrete floor, then in a hospital bed, clinging to life. Thinking about me. Heady stuff, and I couldn't deny that it made me feel better about the uncertainty I'd faced so far. “You expect women to fall at your feet. I'm sure they do. It's not happening this time.”

He leaned into me again, the scruff of his cheek brushing my ear. “It's already happened, Calla. So fucking deal with it.”

Was it time to surrender to the inevitable? What could it hurt?

It could break your heart, baby girl.

My mother's voice. Grams's too. Both strong women almost done in by equally strong and dangerous men.

Although no, that wasn't right—those men were dangerous, but not strong. Because they'd never come back to do what was right. Cage was here, despite everything, despite the threats to his own life. According to Tenn, Cage had risked
it again to come make sure I was all right. How could I walk away from that?

God, I was in so much trouble. I should run, out the door, down the street, beg the nearest police officer to get me home . . .

Home.

Where's that again, Calla?

But no, I wouldn't do that, because I had nowhere else to go. I'd never let myself be defeated, and I wouldn't start now.

I'd had dark, dangerous men circle me before. I seemed to be a magnet for them. I was independent and they took that as a personal affront or challenge. But that's not why I did it. Not at all.

I saw what dangerous men did to the women in my family, how it left them with nothing, beat up and destroyed. It started with Grams, continued with Mom, who loved a bad man while never giving Jameson Bradley a second chance. And it continued with me trusting the wrong boy.

I'd watched love ravage those women until they'd become nearly unrecognizable. Loving the wrong man wasn't a crime, but I began to believe that it should've been. Because it rendered both my mom and Grams incapable of loving any other man—any good man—and there were several in each of their lives that came calling.

I never went as far as to say my family was cursed, but if you looked at the long line of disappointments, I don't know if you'd agree or not. Or maybe you'd simply say it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. And maybe it was, but I wasn't planning on getting near any dangerous man to find out. I'd already done it with that phone call, fallen in love with a dying, dangerous man who stole my heart in ten minutes and would never let it go.

Or maybe I was just protecting myself. To let Cage walk away seemed like a foolish, selfish thing to do when I'd been given a second chance with him.

I'd already fallen too fast—completely, ridiculously, head-spinningly fast—and there was no escape from it. But I couldn't shake from my mind one notion that my mother ingrained in me.

You take a man's money, you give him power.

And I was never giving the only thing I had away. And that was why I'd never touched the settlement money from Jeffrey Harris's family.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tenn come back into the room. I glanced over at him, then gave Cage a hard stare. “I'll go with you. For protection. Obviously, there's a connection between us. I'll share your bed, but I'm not yours
to order around. You don't own me, Cage. No one ever will.”

Cage stared. Tenn gave a low whistle, but, smart man that he was, said nothing.

Cage was either very stupid or very brave, because he did speak. “In or out of bed?”

“What?”

“You said you're not mine to order around—is that in or out of bed?”

I swallowed hard, hated the thrill that went through me at the thought of Cage and bed. “Neither.”

He shook his head slowly. “You can think that it'll end there, sweetheart. But the MC doesn't work like that. I don't work like that. It's a different world, like nothing you've ever been involved in before. It's going to blow your mind. I'm as goddamned possessive as I know you are. You want to go in thinking we'll play this fast and loose, make it a casual thing—you try it.”

“You're saying it's not going to work?”

“I'm saying that my MC doesn't fuck its way through women like you. They'll be hands-off because of me. Every MC woman wants the opposite of what you just said. Every guy too, if he's not too stupid to admit it.”

“Do you?”

“I'm here, aren't I?”

“I can't tell if that's guilt.”

“I don't fuck who I pity.” His harsh language, self-absorbedness all clenched in my belly, fueling the already big ball of want. “So if I don't own you, then you don't own me? You can handle that?”

Behind me, Tenn cursed, a warning, and I had to stand my ground. “I can.”

I'd just lied to him, and it wasn't the first time.

Calla was still packing when Cage heard the unmistakable roar of tricked-out bikes breaking the quiet of the North Carolina night.

Tenn stilled. “That's not Tals.”

Definitely not. “Heathens.” They rigged their bikes loud and obnoxious, and their enforcers were rigged the loudest. “I wasn't followed.”

“Could've been info in Bernie's office on me. Could just be that they followed her here and they were biding their time, waiting for you,” Tenn said as he drew the blinds, then looked through the side.

“Now you say that?”

“Not like I saw Heathens hanging around the beach. I think I would've noticed.”

“Some of them aren't as sloppy as the others.” He listened again. “They're three blocks away.”

“You scare me with that shit.”

Hell, this'd been his bread and butter. Still would be, if Preacher would take him back in.

Tenn glanced at him. “You gotta go.”

“I'm not leaving you with this.”

“You've leaving with Calla.”

“This is about me, not her,” Cage said.

“I'm sure. But that doesn't change the fact that I've got three assholes to contend with.” Tenn paused. “If they find you here . . .”

“Let them.”

“You're not up to this. Not with Calla by your side. What's more important this time—the fight or the girl?”

Tenn's eyes challenged him, reminding him why he'd come here in the first place. “Both, Tenn. They're two sides of the same damned coin.”

But nevertheless, he'd pulled his keys from his pocket. “Call Tals.”

“Already did. I'll let you know what this is all about.”

“You're going to give them a chance to talk?”

“I'm feeling charitable.” Tenn grinned as he flexed his fingers.

“You know there are more waiting for me to run so they can follow.”

“Counting on it,” Tenn said. “I'm also counting on you outriding them. You always could.”

“I'd rather fight this one than run,” Cage said quietly.

“You think I want to see you fight? You think I can't?” Tenn asked. “I want to see you get the girl. So get. The fucking. Girl.”

He turned away from Cage, focusing all his energy and concentration on the front door. Calla came out of the bedroom, bag slung over her arm, looking hot in a borrowed black leather jacket of Tenn's.

“What's going on?”

“We've got to go, Calla.”

She glanced nervously at Tenn, whose shoulders had squared. The energy in the room had changed palpably. The fight was in Tenn. “What's that sound?”

“Heathens MC.”

“Are they after you?”

“And you.” Normally, he'd stay and fight, not let Tenn take on the burden. But he couldn't risk Calla, and Tenn knew that better than anyone. And so Cage did what he'd never done before.

He ran.

She paled and he grabbed her, picked her up and walked her out the back door. Took her bag while handing her a helmet, and once she got on the bike behind him, he told her, “Hang on, Calla. That's all you've got to do.”

As he pulled out, he noted the Heathens' bikes parked in Tenn's front yard. And where there were three Heathens, more were waiting in the wings. They'd figured that if he'd gotten away, he'd head for the most open road and, fuck it all, they were right.

The bike had the advantage. He slid in and out of truck traffic as Calla held on to him so tightly, her face pressed to his back. He was taking her life in his hands and he'd already nearly taken it away once before.

But there was no choice now. Because saving her, getting her out of this mess was now the only option he had.

He forgot about Calla. Worrying about the girl in the bitch seat was a surefire way to get them both killed. And he could ride the goddamned shit out of a bike better than anyone he knew. And he'd do that now.

He'd ridden for his life before. It took a single-minded focus, and now, with the smell of tar, exhaust and fear swirling around him, the wind rushed madly against his face, battering his body at times, and at others pushing it forward.

His hands tightened around the bars. He had to fight the urge not to clutch the throttle too hard, refused to freeze and make everything stall out.

He couldn't think when he rode like this. He just had to react. Push forward, refuse to look back, ride like the devil was at his heels and his soul was in question.

Wasn't it?

And he wove in and out of the lanes, throwing off the men behind them, keeping the few cars he saw on the road out of his drama. The bike danced for him like a pliant but formidable partner.

* * *

I held on to Cage tightly and concentrated on not distracting him. My pulse beat a tattoo and I could barely breathe, but the bike wove through the roads smoothly.

We had to be doing close to eighty miles per hour, and eighty on a bike was so different from what it was in a car. My body vibrated so hard I wasn't sure if I'd break or come, and that had to be the oddest situation I'd ever felt in my life.

The bike swerved as Cage headed off-road, and my body dipped right, the heavy steel horse between my legs powering me along. Saving me.

And at the same time, bringing me right back into the arms of danger.

I heard the roar of the other bikes behind us for a long while, it seemed. And then I only heard the wind and the low purr of Cage's bike. I didn't
dare turn around, but even though Cage didn't slow down per se, his body eased. As the bike tore through the dark and dusty roads, I relaxed more into the rhythms of the bike's movements, found myself leaning when he leaned and rubbing my cheek along his leather jacket.

I was never more aware of the throb between my legs as I was now. It was a throb I couldn't ignore for much longer, an ache that got more intense the farther the bike seemed to climb in altitude. My sex rubbed against the metal and leather, looking for some kind of relief. I swore I had a mini orgasm at one point, and I was sleepy and turned on and wired all at once, and I swore if Cage pulled over and wanted to take me in the dirt, I'd be helpless to say no.

When he did pull over, he reached a hand back to hold me steady as I got off the bike. My legs were nearly jelly, and he didn't let go, even as he swung his own leg over. His arm caught around my lower back, keeping me upright and propelling me toward the cabin. He'd parked alongside it, in a lean-to with a canvas cover he pulled down before we walked onto the porch.

“These are seriously creepy woods,” I murmured. “Serial-killer woods.”

He snorted but didn't argue. The door was open but the low hum of a set alarm comforted
me. He hit some buttons, keeping me in front of him, then closed the door and reset the alarm.

Then he flipped on the lights.

Okay, so we were cut off, but there was a bed and running water—I saw a sink—and, hopefully, heat?

When I glanced up at him, I realized I had all the heat I could need. There was a connection, an intense, inexplicable one strung taut between us, that yanked us closer until the electricity crackled.

I didn't know what to do or say. All I could think of was, “Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me. You're going to be with me. You're mine, whether you're ready to admit it or not.”

I wasn't. Instead, I focused on his hands going under my jacket and my shirt, caressing my bare skin. His hands were large, rough and extremely capable, like the rest of him. That thought went straight to my sex. I was already wet for him, and his tongue touched the corner of his mouth for a brief second, lingered there long enough so I could picture it licking me. Spreading my legs and taking me with his tongue, tugging my clit in his teeth . . . making me scream.

God damn, get a grip, girl.
“We talked about this,
Cage
.”

“You're flushed,
Calla.
”

“Warm in here,” I lied as coolly as I could.

He hadn't let me go, though, and what had started back at Tenn's was about to culminate, a freight train without breaks. There was no stopping it.

His mouth came down on mine, a brutal, heart-stopping kiss. I moaned into his mouth and I swore he smiled against mine before capturing my body against his. His grip was insistent and there was no missing how hard he was. My arms wound around his shoulders, a hand cupped the back of his neck, and I surrendered, just like that.

I sucked on his tongue the way I'd wanted to suck him earlier, and when I pulled back, I caught his bottom lip in my teeth for a second. And he ground out a groan.

“You're in so much goddamned trouble, Calla.”

“Good,” I told him. “Show me.”

He laughed, a dark, rich sound that bit me with a hard shiver. I could lie and say it was the adrenaline of the ride, the promise of almost being caught . . . the fact that we'd made it safe and sound was what made me want to rip his clothes off. But I'd wanted to do it from the first moment I'd heard his voice.

“You. Naked. You've already seen me.”

“I've seen your dick,” I corrected.

He pulled down his fly and put my hand on his cock. “I've been hard for you since I walked in. The bike ride made it worse.”

I don't think he expected me to stroke him, but I did. He stilled for a second, especially when I brought my thumb up to play with the piercing. And then he smiled and it told me that I was in trouble. The good kind. “Maybe you should get naked first.”

He obviously had no problem with that. He pushed his jeans down and pulled his shirt off. “Gotta untie my boots,” he said.

Reluctantly, I released him. He had the boots and jeans off and he was carrying me over to the couch, practically over his shoulder. He pulled open the couch bed with one hand and put me down.

He hovered over me, completely naked. “Your turn.”

He wasn't right on me, wasn't holding me down, and he wasn't trying to strip me. He was watching me with a mixture of lust and concern, and while my heart tugged for what he was doing, I planned on wiping the concern right off.

I sat up slightly and pulled my tank top off. Unhooked my bra as he watched, and made short work of my own jeans. For a long moment, he just stared at me, then murmured “Beautiful”
and “Mine” before kissing my belly. His hands covered my breasts, my nipples tender to his rough touch. I arched beneath them, pushing them against him. I was so wet, my legs spread, hooked around one of his thighs as his cock drove into my belly.

While at Tenn's, I couldn't fantasize about him. I was ruthless about cutting off my needs because I was certain that would curse us. Now, coming off my fast, I was starving, my core aching for him.

The truth was, I hadn't enjoyed sex before this. I pretended to, made myself have and take all the power because I thought it would soothe me. It just allowed me to stay in control.

There was no control when I was with Cage—and no pretending either. He'd never allow it.

But with him, I didn't have to pretend anything. Not with his hands on me, leaving trails that were a combination of fire and ice—intoxicating, exhilarating . . . liberating.

I'd come for him if he touched the right spot. Or anywhere close to it. And when his mouth closed on my nipple, my entire body writhed and I climaxed with a surprised, low moan.

He simply sucked harder, rubbing my sex with his thigh. And then he prepared to take me over the edge again.

“Have to taste you,” he told me, moving down between my legs, lifting my legs over his shoulders. I was completely open to him, and he licked along the seam of my sex, his tongue driving inside me. He held my thighs open as I threaded my fingers through his hair to keep him close.

“Cage . . . please,” I whispered urgently, the need for release clawing through me like a fever. The second orgasm tore through me faster than I'd ever thought possible. But Cage didn't stop, and even when I thought I couldn't come again, I did.

He watched my face the whole time. There was nothing sexier than that, knowing I was under his gaze, unable to escape his pleasure assault in so many ways.

I'd dreamed about this, but my dreams were always a mix of heavy sadness at knowing what I couldn't have. This was pure, unmitigated pleasure, and I reveled in it. I swore I still smelled the scent of adrenaline from his body—the outside air that enveloped us on the ride up to the cabin.

And when I couldn't take it any longer, he kissed his way up my belly and positioned himself over me.

His hold was strong, but it wasn't making me panic. No, exactly the opposite, because for the first time ever—in bed—I was safe. I sagged with
relief against him and his grip grew more insistent. I didn't think it would be possible to get closer to him, but that's what I wanted.

He could hurt me, really and truly, but his control was so finely tuned that he didn't. It made me breathe out in wonder, enjoying the heavy weight of every part of his body on mine. His erection was pressing my belly . . . and then, when he moved down, it pressed against the tight, hot bundle of nerves between my legs.

I shifted my hips to press back just as wantonly, murmured, “Please.”

“I'll please you, Calla.”

I grabbed his shoulders, still dazed. “This is make-believe.”

He pushed up into me, filling me. I gasped. “That feel real enough for you?”

The man inside me became my world. And I was okay with that. More than okay with it.

“Stop thinking,” he growled. “I want to make you forget.”

As we rocked against each other, I knew for certain that I'd never forget him.