Or the Sons come back for me.
She finger-picked a tune she’d heard on the jukebox at the Hell’s Sons MC, but she didn’t know the words. So she added her own.
She sang about a tingle of heat, green eyes, and pain released. Her voice gained in strength until her tones filled the room. When a fist struck the door, she choked to a stop, her fingers trembling on the strings.
“What is it?”
“Get your ass out here and sing if you’re gonna sing.”
Delta swallowed. Apparently Micky was feeling well enough to harass her.
“I need a couple minutes to freshen up.”
“Yeah, do that.”
Delta listened to her footsteps retreat, a sick feeling replacing the freedom she’d known a few moments ago. If only—
No, there was no use in pretending shit would ever change in this club.
She set aside her guitar and pulled a slinky dress from her closet. She stripped off the sweaty top and shorts she’d been sleeping in and sprayed herself with body spray with notes of amber.
Guys loved her body, and without Lucky’s club rule, she’d be raped several times a day. As it was, she’d given herself too often and never for her own pleasure.
She ran her hands over her waist and hips. Chinese cherry blossoms slinked down the contour of her torso and across her pelvis. What would Drake think of her tattoo?
She spun away from the mirror and yanked a dress overhead. Black and fitted to her every inch, the dress made her feel glamorous. A sort of armor.
Only a few guys were left in the club—the younger ones and prospects left behind to guard the women. If ever there was a time for the Hell’s Sons to kidnap her again, it was now.
She avoided their gazes as she took a seat on a stool with her guitar across her knees. The tightening of her lips that passed as her smile drew a little applause. She began to play one of the oldies the guys preferred. When she added her voice, some old ladies and sweet butts drifted in.
Launching from the last note into the next song, she sank into a familiar headspace. While she was performing, no one dared to touch her or call her Girl. She was a real person with value.
She sang until she was hoarse. When Micky declared that was enough, Delta stood up. She’d hardly turned around when she found a prospect pressed against her, rubbing his erection on her hip.
“Why don’t you get on your knees for me since Houlihan’s not here?” His hot breath flooded her ear.
She turned her head and said quietly, “If he finds out, you’re going to miss the ability to piss ever again.”
He backed off, hands up.
The burning feeling in her chest returned full force. No, life never changed. With any luck, she’d be able to sneak up to the roof tonight and forget for a while.
Scaling the concrete block wall was easy. Only five-feet high, it offered little protection for the Raiders MC. It was a mere obstacle.
Drake crouched between wall and chain link fence, cell phone in each hand. One controlled the surveillance cameras on the north and east sides of the building, the other south and west.
The moon was disguised behind clouds, only a faint glimmer visible. A good moon for breaking and entering.
Simultaneously, he punched an SMS message to shut down the surveillance system.
He looked up at the red dot at the corner of the building. It blinked out. They were all down—he never made mistakes.
His heart rate was spot-on, his breathing controlled. When he threaded the wire cutters through the fence and squeezed, it hardly made a
snip.
He worked quickly, cutting straight up about nine diamonds high, just enough for him to squeeze through.
A thud sounded from the neighboring building, followed by a woman yelling at her husband for being an idiot.
Yo momma’s such a bitch, she barks when I fuck her doggy-style.
The brothers had laughed their asses off at that joke, Drake included.
With a grim twist of his lips, Drake cut horizontally, just enough for him to peel back the fence and fit through.
The noise alerted the dogs.
Drake was ready. He fished a lump of butcher paper from the pack slung over his back. Just as the dogs came snarling around the corner and rushed the hole he’d created, he had the meat ready.
Raw steak spiked with syringes of morphine did the trick. They ate noisily enough that the gunmen came, though.
Drake burst through the fence and straightened in the same motion he pulled his tranquilizer gun. He fired in rapid succession. Killing would be easier than darting them, but dead bodies meant the Raiders came looking for the last people who’d had a beef with them—the Sons.
The men crumpled. Two, three. He waited for footsteps and heard none. He scooped up the three weapons and carried them a short distance to the parking area. He hid them in the driver’s seat of a van where they could find them later.
Then he loped across the asphalt to the ladder on the outside of the building. After all this trouble, Delta might not show up, but if she did, he was ready.
As he reached the roof, he tried to pick out shapes in the darkness. No man shapes, only a few vents and an air conditioning unit. He waited, and since he had time, replayed his actions, searching for inadequacies that might have gotten him killed.
Nothing came to mind, so he rested his elbows on his knees and let his head drop back to look at the sky.
Clouds boiled, purplish black bruises obscuring the stars and moonlight. When the quiet
snick
of a closing door reached him, all the hair on his forearms stood up. And his heartbeat skipped into a faster rhythm.
Straining to hear, he battled his discomposure, but with each step on the rung, he lost a bit more control. He pushed into a crouch, hand at his hip in preparation to pull his knife if it wasn’t Delta.
Her hair was so dark and shiny, it appeared wet.
He lunged forward and hauled her over the lip of the roof, locking a hand over her mouth before she could even grunt.
She tensed but didn’t fight.
“Shhh, it’s Drake. Don’t make a noise.”
She went wild, kicking and twisting until he released her. Scooting back, she threw out her hands, just as she had in the club to keep him at bay. It wouldn’t work this time.
He wrapped his gloved fingers around her wrist. She was bare-armed, her skin white between the flowers snaking up her arm.
“Come here.” His voice was rough gravel under a boot. He tugged, and she came against him, shuddering. He wrapped her tight against his chest and buried his nose in her hair as he’d wanted to since the moment he spotted her.
She crowded against him, sweet, fragrant woman with actions that made no sense to him. Goddammit, someone had flipped the turbo switch on his heart rate.
“You didn’t fight until you knew it was me. Why?”
She didn’t reply, only remained like stone in his hold. A goddess statue that needed brought to life. He was going to fucking find out what was going on with her no matter what. Everything about Delta was off.
Using his knuckles under her chin, he raised her head to look at him. It was so dark, her features were a blur, but her eyes glittered. “Why?”
“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Fucking hell. I knew it.
Heart in his throat, he threaded his hands under her hair, spreading the silky strands over his knuckles. “You have the most beautiful hair.”
She started. Then she leaned into his touch.
“I’m kissing you.”
She nodded a split second before he claimed her mouth.
Ripe lips crushed under his, he gathered her onto his lap and molded her to his body. She sighed, and he took immediate advantage as she parted her lips. He drove his tongue inside, learning her flavors, head spinning.
His cock throbbed, trapped in his jeans and with her lush ass a few fabric layers away. When she didn’t pull free of his arms, he took that as a sign she wasn’t opposed to his arousal.
He angled his head and kissed her deeper. Mouth, sky, heart, taste. His thoughts fragmented for long minutes as he took what he wanted.
When he slowed the kiss, Delta took over.
She cupped his jaw and poked her tongue inside his mouth.
With a growl, he flipped her onto the roof, cushioning the thump she might have made. She wrapped her thighs around him, holding his cock right at the V of her legs. Need slammed him.
She rocked upward, and he about lost it. Clenching his teeth to keep from coming in his jeans like a teenager, he withdrew to look at her. He braced his weight on his elbows and wished he could see her better.
“What are you doing here?” Her chest rose and fell against his, her breasts soft and so womanly he wanted to bury his face between them and sleep.
“You know why I’m here.”
“How did you get in?”
“I have my ways.”
She searched his eyes then pulled him back down, ripping off his thug hat. Fingers tangled in his hair, she kissed the hell out of him. Wild, rough kisses that ignited him.
He fitted himself between those lush thighs he’d dreamed of. Testing, he thrust his hips slowly down and in a hooking motion, hoping his swollen cock head chafed over her clit.
Primitive noises left her, which he captured with a kiss. He flipped his tongue over hers, trying to deny the fact that he was shaken.
No,
shaking
.
He jerked against her. “I fucking want you.”
She moaned, eyes wide, lips wet from his kisses. “I dreamed of you.”
“Jesus, woman.” He claimed her mouth again, rolling her atop him to give her control since he couldn’t trust himself. She ground down on him, and damn if he couldn’t feel the wet heat through her jean shorts and his jeans.
When he did what he’d been longing to do for days—wrapped her hair in his fist—she bucked. They moved together, making out like teenagers who’d sneaked out of the house. Hell, he felt like one. While he didn’t want it to end, he needed to feel her scorching heat around his cock.
“Drake, you can’t be here. If they find you, they’ll kill you.”
“I’m aware. But you know what they say about me?”
Her hair fell around them, shutting out the night and the rest of the world. She shook her head.
If he lived to be a thousand, he’d remember the silkiness of her hair against his cheek. His throat tightened. “They say I have nine lives.”
“Yeah?”
“But I only have two left.”
“Shit.”
For some reason he found her cuss funny. His chest vibrated, and he narrowly clamped off the sound. She hovered over him, and even in the dimness he made out her confusion. Finally the corners of her lips twitched up.
He sobered. “You’re coming with me.”
“I don’t have nine lives.”
“I’ll protect you.”
“But you’ll be bringing down the power of the Raiders on the Sons. They’ll know what happened to me.”
“Then we’ll run.”
“It won’t save the lives of your brothers.”
He arched a brow. “Or yours?”
“I don’t give a damn about them.” Her throaty tone infused him with desire.
Enough about their clubs—he wanted her mouth.
He yanked her down, and she opened for him immediately. Their tongues slipped over each other’s with long, thorough movements. When she began to wriggle again, he locked his hands on her ass and hauled her against his cock.
Tearing away, she breathed, “Just one time, Drake.”
His mind flipped even as need spiked. He ached to ram into her tight, curvy body. But first plans needed to be made. You never went in without a plan.
He cradled her face and looked into her eyes. “We need to talk.”
She shrank away and rolled off. Her back thumped softly on the roof, too quiet to alert anyone inside. When she slung her arm over her eyes, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat.
He leaned over her. “Why didn’t you let me fight for you when the Raiders came into our club?”
“It would have been a bloodbath.” She didn’t remove her arm.
“You don’t have very much faith in my abilities.”
“I don’t know you.”
“You know me well enough. I got you out of here once. You’ve been wrapped around me on a bike. And you know how hard I get for you.”
Her chest hitched, but she didn’t speak. Gently he gripped her arm and removed it to see her face. Her eyes burned with anger.
“I know they hurt you, Delta.”
She started to protest, but he cut her off.
“You try not to let on. You’re fucking brave, woman. But I see it in the way you hold yourself. They’ve broken you, haven’t they?” His rage was carefully bottled away—he didn’t want her to think it was directed at her. But the fucking Raiders would die for what they’d done to an innocent woman, and it wouldn’t be clean kills. No, he wanted to hear them scream.
Delta’s throat worked, but she met his gaze fully. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” he asked with so much gentleness he stopped to consider who was speaking. He’d never sounded this way.
She didn’t respond, and they just stared at each other. “You’re interrupting my alone time.”
A laughter rumbled up, and he barely silenced it. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“I need my space.”
“I think you need this.” He dropped his head and clamped his lips over her nipple. Through her T-shirt and bra, her bud tightened. Her breath came faster and she arched as he plucked at her nipple with his lips.
Dark need pounded his system. His cock throbbed and his brain was only on half-alert. She was so fucking responsive.
He edged his hand under her top and pushed it up. Lifting his head, he grated out, “I wish it wasn’t so dark. I want to see you.” A few ink lines appeared when he bared her torso, but he couldn’t make them out.
“Drake…”
“You don’t want me to taste you? Suck your nipples?” He strummed one with his gloved thumb through her bra. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to feel how hot my tongue is here.” He hooked a finger in her bra cup and tugged it down. Her full breast popped free, bouncing slightly.
He almost groaned. Her nipple strained toward him, ready for his mouth.