I gasped with each movement of his hips, feeling like a flock of joyful doves were fluttering through my entire body. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted to spin and soar on this euphoria forever.
Rafe kept going, pumping and pumping as he reached up to grab the back of my neck again. He pulled me down on top of him until we were face to face, his other arm wrapping around my back and holding me as tightly as it could.
“Come for me, Jewel,” he breathed, kissing my lips. “Come for me now, you fucking gorgeous girl. Give me everything you've got.”
I pushed myself down on him as hard as I could. His cock pressed against the back wall of my pussy so firmly that for a crazy moment, I thought he'd somehow find a way to push past and go even deeper until he was making hard, dirty, desperate love to my soul.
I climaxed in a hot wave just as I felt him gush inside of me, our orgasms mingling in a single tidal crest that felt like it would carry us both away. We both cried out together, our moans overlapping.
We stayed like that for a long time afterward—me on top of him, with his cock inside of me and his arms around me. It felt like we should say something to each other, but there were no words. There was only the steady warmth of his breath tickling my neck and his fingertips tracing patterns over my bare skin until we both surrendered to sleep.
Chapter 30
Rafe
The sun had set and the house was dark. Jewel and I were both dozing happily until a bright white light swept through the windows, filling the room. We both woke up, squinting and putting our hands up against the blinding glare.
“Headlights,” Jewel said. I could hear the fear in her voice.
I felt a cold jolt of panic, thinking Jester's guys had found us somehow. With my arm in bad shape and my head still spinning from the concussion, I knew I'd have no chance against a car full of armed gangsters, even with Jewel and her gun at my side.
I felt something inside me shrivel into a blackened husk, knowing that we'd survived so much over the past few days only to die out here in the middle of nowhere. The despair and the injustice of it all felt like a crushing weight on my chest.
“Get ready to run,” I whispered to Jewel, reaching for my gun. “Go out the back and try to cut across the field to the woods back there. I'll try to hold them off and buy you some time.” I quickly pulled my pants on.
Jewel yanked her t-shirt on and pulled her up leggings. Then she reached for her .22, thumbing the safety off. “I'm not leaving you,” she replied. Her voice may have been trembling, but her eyes were clear and focused.
“Don't be stupid,” I said. “I'm not worth dying for. This is your only chance to get out of this alive, so take it and go find a safe place to call the cops. Tell them I threatened you and made you come with me, and they won't charge you with anything. You'll be fine.”
“But you said the cops were in on it,” Jewel answered. She was already creeping up to the window with her gun at the ready, trying to see who it was while staying out of sight. I had to hand it to her. She was pretty goddamn brave.
I just didn't want to see her die for it.
I heard the car's engine cut off outside, and the sound of one of its doors creaking open.
“Forget what I said,” I insisted. “Listen to what I'm saying now, okay? Take the gun, go out the back, and run like hell until...”
“Wait a minute,” Jewel said.
“You don't have a fucking minute! Now go!” I hissed urgently.
Jewel peered out the window for a long moment, then turned to me with a smile. “You did say your club's name was the War Reapers, right? Because it looks like the cavalry just rode to our rescue.”
I sighed with relief as the car door outside slammed shut. A moment later, I heard Boomer's voice call out. “Yo, Rafe! You in there, or what?”
“Boomer?” Jewel asked me.
“The one and only,” I answered. Slowly, I pulled myself off the floor, trying to ignore the persistent ringing in my ears. I walked to the front door and opened it, stepping outside. Jewel followed me.
Boomer stood next to a battered old Lincoln Town Car from the '80s. He was wearing his Reapers cut. He had a first aid kit in one hand and a small laptop under his other arm. He also had an uncomfortable expression on his face, and he was nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Boomer, you are a motherfucking lifesaver,” I exclaimed. “I cannot believe you brought all this. Thank you so much.”
“Yeah, well, um, that's not all I brought, Rafe,” Boomer said uneasily.
Before I could answer, both doors on the passenger's side opened, and Bard and Nic got out. They walked over to me, Bard's steely eyes fixed on mine and Nic shaking his head sadly. Bard stopped just a few inches in front of me and looked me up and down.
“Bard,” I said. “It's, uh, well, it's pretty goddamn good to see you, actually.” I gestured toward Jewel, trying to pretend Bard's flat gray eyes weren't scaring the hell out of me. I'd rarely seen him look at any Reaper that way, and whenever he had, it hadn't ended well. “This is Jewel. She...”
“Close your mouth. Now.” Bard's tone was as cold and hard as a glacier. My mouth snapped shut.
“Jesus, Rafe,” Nic said quietly, looking at Jewel, my wounded arm, and the bullet-shredded Saab parked in front of the house. “Jesus motherfucking Christ, what the fuck have you done?”
“Boomer filled me in on everything today,” Bard continued, his iron eyes drilling into mine. “He should have demonstrated his loyalty by telling me from the beginning, but he knows that now. Don't you, Boomer?”
I snuck a glance over at Boomer. Since so much of his face was covered with scar tissue from his time with the bomb disposal unit in Iraq, I hadn't noticed at first that he was sporting some nasty-looking bruises. I also saw that the Sergeant-at-Arms patch had been ripped off his cut, leaving only a few curled threads behind.
Fuck, I thought. Not only did my bullshit get Boomer in trouble, it cost him his fucking Sergeant patch.
The thought had barely crossed my mind when Bard's hand grabbed me by the chin, turning my face back to his. “Don't look at Boomer, Rafe. Look at me. I'm the one talking to you now.”
I looked at Bard. I was at least a head taller than he was and a hundred pounds heavier, but I'd seen him in action too many times to think that made any difference at all. Besides, when the president of an MC owes another member a beating, that member wouldn't dare raise his hands to the president in return or else it'd cost him his membership patch. Maybe even his life, too, depending on how pissed the president was.
And Bard looked fucking livid.
“Your arm appears to be damaged,” Bard said through clenched teeth. “I would imagine it's from a bullet. Do you have any other injuries I should know about?”
“Concussion,” I mumbled.
“A concussion,” Bard repeated slowly, nodding. “Okay. So not the head, then.”
I was about to ask what he meant when a heavy pain barreled through my midsection like a battering ram. All the breath left my body in a single gust and when I tried to get it back, all I could do was wheeze and gag breathlessly.
Bard's second punch came in lower, and just slow enough for me to see it as a blur before it connected with my right side, just under my ribs. I felt pure agony blossoming in my torso, a chain reaction of pain buzzing from one organ to the next until all of them felt like they were on fire.
My legs turned to rubber and I fell to my knees. As I did, I heard Jewel's frantic footsteps as she ran to stand between me and Bard. I opened my mouth to tell her to stay out of it, but all that came out was a long, gurgling whine.
Man, that guy could really hit.
“Leave him alone!” Jewel yelled. “You sadistic asshole, you're hurting him!”
Bard's voice was still low and even, but his eyes kept blazing with a fury I'd never seen there before. “Not nearly as much as he's managed to hurt the other Reapers.”
He looked at me again. “Over fifty men, Rafe. Some of them with wives and families to look out for. All of them your brothers, men you were sworn to protect and defend with your life, if necessary. All of them looking over their shoulders for gangsters again, checking under their beds and in their closets every night because they don't want to end up like Growler. All because you couldn't be trusted to control yourself.”
I clutched my side. Even though Bard had been careful to avoid breaking any ribs, every breath still felt like broken glass. “You...said I could...” I croaked.
“Did I?” Bard asked, his voice raising dangerously. “Did I say you could drag Boomer into this? Did I say you could go around shooting up diners like a rabid moron and turn half the highway into a scene from an action movie? Did I say you could grab some woman, a civilian, and hold her hostage while you wage some kind of selfish one-man war? Did I say you could use the Hidey-Hole and get Chucky killed?”
“I'm not a hostage,” Jewel said.
“Lady, whatever you are, now's a good time for you to be quiet,” said Boomer.
Bard crouched down next to me and reached for me. Before I could figure out why, his hand was on my shoulder, his thumb pressed deep into a nerve on the side of my neck. My whole body suddenly felt like electricity was running through it, and I let out a yowl of pain.