How had an Irishman come to be with a Californian MC? I knew almost nothing about his past. Even when I’d first met him, he’d only talked about the now, about riding and fights and bars, as if anything before that was off limits.
I couldn’t figure him out. When he looked at me, it was as if he wanted to tear the clothes right off my body. I wasn’t used to even thinking about sending out signals, but I was fairly sure I was sending out the right ones. Yet the closer we got, the more he gruffly pushed me away.
Me being me, it reminded me of opposing magnets. The way you can bring them closer and closer together and they’ll push harder and harder apart, twisting and turning to avoid each other….
Until they get too close. And then one of them will suddenly flip around and they’ll snap together so fast it scares you.
I knew I should be scared. He was a stranger and I was alone in a motel room with him. He was an outlaw, a criminal. And yet however hard I tried, I couldn’t be scared of him. Not after he’d come for me like that, after twelve years. Not when he’d taken a beating to save me. Not when the man who should have protected me, my step-dad, was the person who’d started all this, and the police were tied up in it, too. I might never trust anyone again...but I trusted Carrick.
I thought it would be impossible to sleep with him standing there but, slowly, I began to sink down towards the blackness. I could feel him watching over me, a big, solid presence committed to protecting me. I’d never had that before and it felt wonderful.
I slept.
11
Carrick
I woke disoriented. I knew something was wrong even before I opened my eyes. The bed was too soft to be one of the spare rooms at the clubhouse. At my apartment, I usually passed out on my couch in the early hours. Someone else’s bed? Some woman I’d gone home with after a party? That sounded plausible. But I didn’t have a hangover.
Then I became aware of a warm presence in front of me. I was lying on my side and a soft female ass was nestled against my groin. I was spooning her and she was pressed against me all the way from shoulder to toes.
I opened my eyes...and saw flame-red hair.
Shit!
Annabelle lay like a sleeping princess, her head slightly turned towards me, strands of her hair moving as she gently inhaled and exhaled.
Did we…?
No. I’d stood by the window, ready to raise the alarm if I saw any Blood Spiders coming, but by two AM the distant roar of bikes had gone. By then, Annabelle had long since gone to sleep.
I’d meant to keep watch all night but I was exhausted: I’d been about ready to drop when I arrived at the clubhouse, before this all started, then I’d had the ride to Teston and all the craziness at the bar. I had colorful bruises all across my ribs and back where the Blood Spiders had beat me but the worst thing was my shoulders: all the riding had turned them to cold, unyielding concrete shot through with jagged pain. The bed looked as soft and inviting as a cloud sent from heaven.
But she was in the bed. It was hard enough restraining myself when she was safely across the room.
Eventually, I decided I’d climb under the covers but not sleep. Hell, I can never normally get to sleep anyway, so staying awake wouldn’t be a problem. I’d just lie there, not touching her, and rest my shoulders for a while and then—#p#分页标题#e#
And the next thing I knew, I was waking up spooning her and daylight was flooding through a crack in the drapes. Annabelle’s soft, warm body must have had some kind of magical effect on me because I’d slept like a fucking log. I felt fully awake and rested for the first time in months.
Only now, I somehow had to climb out of bed without waking her. Not easy when I was tight up against her, and that lithe, ripe body was dressed only in a few scraps of black fabric—
I felt my cock respond to the thought, thickening and hardening against the crack of her ass. Shit! I tried to think of something: anything but her. Spark plugs. Exhaust headers. Pistons. Pistons pumping smoothly the way I’d pump between those pale, perfect thighs, Annabelle moaning under me as I—
My cock reared and swelled, pressing against her panties. Annabelle gave a low moan in her sleep.
I started to scooch back across the bed. That’s when I realized my arm was wrapped around her body, my hand just under her breast. Fuck!
I lay there for a heartbeat, cock iron hard, body tense. A man can only take so much. All I had to do was flip her over on her back and wake her with a kiss like in a fairy tale. All my fantasies about her could become hot, panting reality….
And then what? Slap her ass and send her on her way, like one of the girls I’d fuck after a party? No way. She deserved better than that. What, then? A relationship? With me? No way. I couldn’t bear to see her face when she discovered the blood I had on my hands.