8
Annabelle
I fell back until I was lying on the seat, Carrick’s body pressed to mine all the way from shoulder to groin. Our faces were just a few inches apart but it was dark, down behind the boxes, and his face was in shadow, unreadable. My lips worked against his palm as I panicked. What the hell is he doing?!
Then I heard the bike engine and understood. It came closer and closer, until the vibrations were rattling my teeth. My feet were off the ground but Carrick’s were firmly planted and I could feel the low throb coming up through his legs, hips and groin and passing into me, both our bodies trembling together.#p#分页标题#e#
And then the biker stopped. Right on the far side of the boxes that screened us, no more than six feet away.
Oh. My. God.
I lay there, absolutely motionless, afraid to even breathe. If the biker saw us or heard us, I’d be taken back to Volos and Carrick would be killed.
The two of us were pressed so tightly together, I could hear every beat of his heart. I had to breathe, so I inhaled just a little through my nose...and felt my breasts lift and press against his chest.
I felt his heart speed up.
There was a scrape of rubber against concrete as the biker put his boot down to steady his bike. I imagined him looking around, searching the darkness. He was so close, I could hear his breathing.
Carrick slowly released the pressure on my mouth, lifting his hand a millimeter at a time. But as he did it, the moon hit a break in the clouds and I got a look at his expression for the first time.
As he looked towards the cartons and the biker they hid us from, he had that same look of furious, brutal determination I’d seen in the bar. He was ready to kill to protect me. But then his palm lifted just enough that only my lips were pressed against it, and when they finally broke contact it was almost a reverse kiss. I saw his whole body tense—
And when his gaze snapped back to me, he glared at me with such scalding lust that I felt the heat plunge straight down inside and turn to slick wetness at my groin. He looked as if he wanted to rip my panties off and fuck me right there on the saddle until I was just a twitching, gasping, limp mess. And he looked furious that I was tempting him into it.
I flushed deep scarlet. But I’m not doing anything! At the same time, my whole soul seemed to lift: after years of teenage fantasies, the idea that he might actually be attracted to me made me reel.
We stared at each other in the moonlight. I’d never looked at a man so closely in my life. I could have gazed at that face for years, like some professor in a museum who spends her entire career obsessing over one painting, one statue. He was a freakin’ violent work of art.
Black hair turned almost blue by the moonlight. Skin tanned by the sun and wind as he rode. Those heavy brows and that brutal jaw: he could have been some war-painted Irish barbarian from a thousand years ago. But his face had beauty, too, in the high cheekbones and those hard-soft lips.
A metal clank from the other side of the boxes—the biker had put his bike’s kickstand down. The rustle of leather as he dismounted. Shit! He was going to look around.
The hand Carrick had taken from my mouth started to move. My eyes locked onto it as it passed above my neck...my collar bone. I swallowed. Was he going to squeeze my breast? But he passed above it, then dipped down, reached across the bike for something fixed to its side by his leg—
His bicep brushed my breast, warm skin and hard muscle sliding against my pale skin. Unbidden, I felt my nipple pucker and harden. Both of us froze and we lay there, staring into each other’s eyes. I watched that magnificent, muscled chest move with every slow, silent intake of breath...and then I felt his cock, hot and weighty, pressing higher and higher on my inner thigh as he went rock hard against me.
On the far side of the boxes, I heard the biker take a step towards us. Metal jangled—the Blood spider on his cut. He’s going to find us!
Carrick leaned fractionally to the side, straining to reach whatever he was grasping for. His arm slid across my breast. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, streamers of pleasure rippling down from my pebble-hard nipple. Apparently, my body didn’t care how much danger we were in.
I watched as Carrick started to ease his arm silently back up. When his hand reappeared, it was holding that insane shotgun I’d seen at the bar. It looked even bigger, up close, the carvings on the barrels gleaming in the moonlight. He brought it up and across me and pointed it at the stack of cartons, ready to shoot if the biker appeared around the side.#p#分页标题#e#
At that second, the throb of the engine was joined by another. Shit! In my fear, I grabbed for something, anything...and my hands closed on Carrick’s shoulders. He tensed, too. The odds of us getting out of there were shrinking and shrinking.