Needing Me, Wanting You(24)

I take another step back as Beck drops to his knees with a growl, reaching his fingers into his pocket. I know he's got the hammer tucked in the back of his jeans still, but that's it. I checked. I almost forgot to. When my lips met his, fire took over my body and boiled my brain. The next few minutes were almost a blur. I had sex with Beck to distract him and ended up getting distracted myself.

“Now toss it back this way, nice and careful now.” I watch him like a hawk, both hands wrapped around the gun, keeping my aim steady. I don't know how long I have. Somebody's bound to have heard us back here and might come snooping. I really, really want to put my pants back on.

“You're making a big mistake here, darling. Give me the gun back and we'll go inside, have some burgers and talk this shit out. Maybe give your brother a call and arrange something right here and now?” I ignore the smooth, sultry drawl of his voice as it wraps around my body and brings that wave of lust rushing back in full force. My nipples harden and my body pulses tight down below, drawing a slight groan from my throat. I swallow it away and shake my head, bending down carefully and staring at the cellphone. It's lying in the gravel next to my bare toes, but to grab it, I have to let go of the gun with one hand. Damn it. I ignore Beck's words and stay focused on his strong back, those rock hard muscles I felt beneath his shirt. He's a lot thicker than any guy I've ever been with, all hard bumps and valleys. The feel of all that power coiling beneath his skin was intoxicating. Or maybe I'm just attracted to him because he's forbidden, part of that foreign club I've been fantasizing about. That must be it.

I let go of the gun with my left hand, grabbing the phone carefully and standing up to retreat another step. I can still shoot him from far away, but he can't grab me. It just makes sense. I move my thumb across the screen.

It's password protected.

“What's the password?” I ask, hating how exposed I feel right now. I want my damn pants back on. Beck chuckles.

“Pussy lips,” he says, and I wrinkle my nose. I'm used to crudeness, grew up around it. But my brother doesn't like it. Whenever he catches language he doesn't appreciate, somebody ends up on dish duty, whether they're a prospect or a fully patched member. I've never once had to do it. I look at the back of Beck's head, grateful that I don't have to see his face. The sweat on his neck, his bright green eyes, his ruggedly beautiful features.

I try the password and it doesn't work.

“Capitals? A space?” I ask, and Beck laughs again, making me nervous. My whole life, I've been engrossed in the world of Seventy-seven Brothers and not once, once, has anything like this ever happened to me. My family's always protected me, kept me safe. I'm not used to this massive flow of adrenaline, this uncertainty. And I'm definitely not used to feeling the wind on my bare butt. “I am not fucking around here, Beck,” I shout, getting more frustrated by the moment. I want to hate this man, but I can't. And that's pissing me off. Tears prick my eyes. “If anything's happened to my brother. If anything's happened to him … ” I trail off and find my finger tensing on the trigger. When I imagine Darren lying lifeless on the side of the road somewhere, being lifted up and zipped into a body bag, my vision goes violet and I can't think straight.

“You gonna shoot me for giving you a false password?” My hand tenses up even further.

“I need to make a phone call.” I don't know what else to say. I'm sure he can read me, and right now, I can't shoot him. He makes a move at me? And yeah, I could do it. If he told me my brother was dead … but for a password? So we're at a stalemate then? This is like my life in a metaphor. A stalemate. The strange feelings that overwhelmed me on the porch peek their dirty heads up. Triple M. You want to join the club, ride a bike, rob a bank. You want to be bad, don't you, Tease? “And so do you. Why drag this out? You don't need to cart me all the way to Nashville. Give me the password and I'll let you go, let you walk right out of here, climb on your bike, and ride away.”

“All I want is my fucking friend back. She's had a hard life; she don't need this shit. I let you go, I lose my chance at ever seeing her again.”

“Let me go? I'm not the hostage anymore, Beck. You are.”

“You positive on that one, lemon cake?” I swallow hard and then all of a sudden, he's moving, springing to his feet in a coil of muscles and power. I fire the gun, but the bullet whizzes right past him, exploding into the side of a minivan. The window shatters as I pull my finger down on the trigger again and get … nothing. There's only one bullet in the fucking gun.

Beck appears in my face, grabbing my wrists and hauling me against his chest. I manage to keep hold of the weapon this time, but it doesn't do me any good. I might as well be wearing steel shackles. Beck Evans doesn't just have vanity muscles. I feel like he could crush the bones in my arms with his fingers if he so wanted to.