Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) (15 page)

Harley realizes then that he’s never told her his last
name.  And with good reason.

“What else do you know about him?”

“Not much.  Only that his sister is staying with
him.  He owns a house in town, has a tongue that rocks my world, and
that’s his Harley right there.”

Harley tries not to smile, but that has him beaming with
pride.

“It’s a nice bike.”

He’d better not touch my bike.

Spencer glances at his phone and Harley fears the
worst. 
Information.

“Did you know that Harley is his middle name?  I didn’t
even know that one.”

Aliah doesn’t seem to pick up on the connection.  She
acts like she doesn’t care, but on the inside it bothers her how little she
knows about him.  “I didn’t know that.  Why?  Do you know
him?  Is he a criminal or something?”

Oh, no.

“Don’t you recognize him?  Take a closer look,
love.  His face is plastered across every other sign downtown.”

She draws a blank, while Harley holds his breath.  She
shrugs her shoulders.  “His name is Harley.  That’s all I know.”

“Maybe his full name will ring a bell.  David H.
Gates.”

“No.”  She shakes her head erratically.  “That’s
not him.”

“It is.”

She glares at the sky, trying to place him.  “But he’s
so bad ass.”

Spencer snuffs unattractively.  “You only think he is.”

“No.  He is,” she mumbles, unwilling to accept the
truth.

Spencer chuckles.  “I’ll give him ruthless. 
Cunning.  Conceited even.  But bad ass?”

“Okay.  I get it.  You can shut up now.”

“Maybe next time you’ll do a little digging before spreading
your legs for a guy.”

“Fuck you, Spencer.”

“Easy, love.  Or I’ll have to arrest you.  Don’t
think I wouldn’t enjoy every second of getting you into the cuffs.”

She wants to provoke him; to say something that would wash that
smirk right off his pretty boy face.  But she bites her tongue.  “If
you’re done making fun of me…”

He gives her a curt nod.  “You might want to consider
getting the hell out of here.  The park closed at midnight.”

“Sorry.  I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do.  So get a move on.”

“Yes, sir.”  Aliah gives him a mocking salute.

“I mean it, Aliah.  Collect up your boyfriend and move
on for the night.”

“Okay.  Okay.”

“I mean it.  Get out of here,” he urges.

Spencer scans her with his icy eyes, as he puts his car in
reverse and pulls away from the grass.  Aliah lifts a hand to wave at him,
but he ignores her.  She promptly returns back to Harley and crouches by
his side.  She proceeds to gently shake his arm.

“Harley.  We have to go.”

He springs to his feet and pulls a gun from his pants, but
he doesn’t aim it at anyone.  He keeps it hidden beneath his suit
jacket.  Aliah jumps backward, with both her hands raised, like she’s a
criminal.

Harley scans the perimeter with eyes of a hawk.  “Get
on the bike.”

She takes a second to scowl at him and then stomps back to
his parked motorcycle.  “Fine.  But you can put the gun away. 
Are you trying to kill someone?”

“Aliah.  I swear to God.  I’m not going to say it
again.  Get on the bike.  Now.”

She yanks the keys from his hand and starts it up. 
“What an ass,” she grumbles.

When she looks back at him, he can see she’s not very happy
that he still has his gun drawn.  He keeps it hidden inside his
jacket.  But he’s not putting it away.  It’s for her own
protection.  And his.  They’re surrounded.  If they don’t get
out of there fast, they’re both going to be laid out on the pavement, bathing
in blood.

He climbs onto the bike and wraps his body around her. 
“Someone is watching us,” he whispers in her ear.  “Don’t act funny. 
Just go.  And don’t stop until I tell you to.  Can you do that?”

Aliah gulps and whimpers softly when she nods.  It is
obvious she has never found herself in a similar situation before, which begs
the question: Why are these people following her?

She takes off a little too fast, nearly losing him off the
back.  But it’s good enough to get them away from the park before the
trackers can respond.

“Now you can give it a little gas,” he purrs, trying to keep
her calm.

They were already speeding, but he needs her to go faster if
they are going to avoid an untimely accident.  In a matter of seconds,
headlights appear behind them, down an otherwise blackened street.

“Now, Aliah!”

She gives it more gas and winds back into town.”

“What are you doing?” he shouts.

“Losing them.”  She looks so determined that he can’t
argue with her.

The way she maneuvers through the downtown roads, he knows
she’s done this before.  She seems to have mapped the fastest route to her
house, and she manages to skip any other vehicle interaction on the way. 
It is impressive, and has dick aching to claim her again.

Aliah wheels into her driveway and Harley holds up the
motorcycle as she pounds the code into the keypad for her garage door.  He
rides the bike inside, as she runs into the house and presses the button near
the door to close up the garage.  They both stand there, frozen, waiting
for the door to seal shut, as if the bad guys might appear out of nowhere and
attack them.

The idea isn’t completely far-fetched, and so when the door
clicks shut, they both take a deep breath before entering her house. 
Harley slides the gun into the back of his slacks and smiles while he double
checks the deadbolt on her front door.  “Where did you learn to ride like
that?”

Aliah climbs her stairs, two at a time, and flicks the light
switch on.  “I know these streets like the back of my hand.  My dad’s
the City fire chief.  He knows the fastest ways to get across town, and so
do I.”

Harley nods, still smiling about it.

“My turn to ask a question.”  She stands at the top of
the stairs looking down at him, surrounded by a mist of light.

He holds his breath again and the smile falls off his face.

“Why do you wear a gun,
Harley
?”

He doesn’t like the way she pronounces his name, but that’s
an easy one.
 
“Protection.”  He doesn’t elaborate and she
doesn’t ask for him to.

Aliah tries to take a deep breath, but the adrenaline has
her limbs shaking and she can’t seem to slow her nerves.

Harley scales the stairs and stops at the top.  He
flicks the light out, but not before seeing her standing there, looking all
small and helpless.  “We don’t want anyone to know you’re home,” he
explains, while the image of her trembling frame haunts his present.

He opens his arms to her.  “Come here.”

She recklessly obeys and crashes into his arms.  Even
though he still has to be well over the legal limit for alcohol consumption,
with her in his arms, he feels strong and protective.  When he cups her
cheek, he feels a tear trickle down her face.  She lets it fall.

Harley’s finger traces its path and lands under her
chin.  He tilts her head up with a finger and stings her with his midnight
gaze.  “I will
never
let anyone hurt you.”

She holds his stare and it is as if they are sealing a
promise.  “Never?”

He steals a chaste kiss, and it happens so fast that she
can’t even stop him.  She presses her lips together and narrows her eyes.

“What are doing?”  She sounds so exasperated.

“I kissed you,” he states, as if he’s proud of his misdoing.

“I told you not to,” she whispers, as if someone might be
listening in on them.

Harley’s smile slants across his face.  “I never was
very good at listening to reason.”

Without warning, Aliah’s mouth crashes into his. 
Harley instantly lifts her into his arms.  She wraps her legs around his
torso, and he doesn’t stop kissing her as he kicks off his shoes and maneuvers
his way blindly to the kitchen table.

He can sense that she’s wondering what the hell he’s doing
as he unfastens his belt.  Then it seems to dawn on her when his pants
slide down to his ankles.  He puts her down to remove her clothes and he
doesn’t stop until she’s completely naked.  Then he makes a grab for his
shirt and watches the way her eyes widen in the shadows when she gets a good
look at his tattooed abs.

She pounces on him, feverishly kissing every rigid muscle,
as he tugs off his tie and tosses it aside.  He takes a seat on the chair,
with his massive thighs exposed, and his overpriced slacks pooled at his
ankles.  Aliah climbs on top of him, knowing exactly what he wants. 
She reaches for his unyielding cock and lowers herself on top of him.

He groans with every roll of her hips and enjoys every inch
of her pussy perfection as her breasts rub up against his chest.  Her
strangled moan has him harder than a surf board, and he has to grip onto the
chair to hang on for the ride.  He loves that she’s going slow, but he’s
about near ready to drill a hole through her.  He needs things to go fast.

Taking control, he clasps onto her wrists and locks them
behind her back like he’s arresting her.  Then he latches his mouth onto a
straining pink nipple and sucks from it like he’s a starving infant. 
Aliah’s head rolls back and she cries out in pleasure, as he grips onto her hip
with his free hand, demanding that she bounce faster and drop harder.

She squirms on top of him, until he’s the one thrusting
upwards, lifting her feet from the floor.  Aliah wraps her suspended legs
around the back of the chair, and closes her pussy around him.  That
single act represents the sweetest of surrenders, leaving him in control
everything.  Needing more friction between them, he releases her wrists.

“Hang on,” he grunts, as he pumps into her repeatedly.

Knowing exactly what he means, she grips the chair behind
him, until she’s white in the fists.  It looks like she’s hanging onto the
chair for dear life, as he thrusts into her again and again, their skin
slapping in a magical medley of sounds.  She’s bouncing up and down from
the sheer force of his thrusts and it all feels celestial as he seems to leave
his body in a moment of complete bliss.

“Holy shit!” Aliah screams out, as he drives into her
harder.  The chair breaks into pieces beneath them, as her pussy squeezes
around his dick in the most amazing of finales.  They’re both panting,
with eyes closed, not quite realizing what has happened.  Then Aliah
releases her clenched fists, dropping the back of the chair onto the floor.

A masterful smile curls onto Harley’s lips, as he starts to
chuckle, realizing it was the force of their joint orgasm that totalled the
dining chair.  Aliah joins him in a fit of laughter.  With every
giggle, her insides tighten around him and he winces from the sensitivity still
affecting him.

After climbing off of him, Aliah points at the floor behind
him.  “Look what you did to my chair!”

He thinks to plead the fifth, but decides against it. 
“It was me.”

Her jaw drops, but her smile is still gorgeous.  She
loves his honesty.  Now only if he could be more honest with her. 
She escapes to the washroom with her clothes, and he gives her a few minutes to
wash herself, as he tries to put the hopeless chair back together.

Not going to happen.

After pulling on his underwear and an unbuttoned shirt, he
peers out the front blinds.  No one is visible, so he barges into the bathroom
to see what is taking her.  Though she can’t believe the intrusion, she
doesn’t make him leave.  Their smiles eventually soften, but when he leans
down to kiss her, she doesn’t stop him.  He reaches for the warm
washcloth, snatches it from her hand and gently caresses between her thighs, as
his lips descend on hers.  His excitement bubbles back to the surface, as
he strokes her tenderly and she accepts his tongue through parted lips.

Washing up only instigates their next engagement.  He
drops the cloth to the floor, his fingers continuing with the sensual assault
on her clitoris.  When Aliah’s legs get wobbly, he lifts her into his arms
and carries her to the bedroom.  His weight bears down on her as they
crash onto the bed.  He knows she wants him to conquer her body again, but
she looks so scared.  Scared for her life.

Scared for her heart?

It’s written all over her face in a painful mix of color, as
Harley continues to kiss her.  He can’t stop, afraid that she might take
back the silent offering if he does.  But eventually his lips slow, until
time freezes between each emotional peck.  The sound of his lips
connecting with hers and the draw back to him every time he pries his lips away
seems to trip her up.

Aliah starts to slide his shirt open, but he catches her
hand.

“It’s been a long night.”

Her face looks so sad that he considers giving her a pity
fuck.  She’s using all her wiles to her advantage.  He relies on
sheer willpower to push through the temptation.  It
has
been a long
night, and he doesn’t want her turning to sex as her only comfort.  He
wants her to need him in other ways too.

What the fuck?

He did not just think that.  Since when did he care
about that kind of shit?

Aliah gulps and he thinks she’s going to demand they do it
again.  If she does, he will have to screw her to the headboard.  But
then she rolls over and curls up into a ball, without a mess of words. 
There wouldn’t be any more sex after that move.

Harley skims his fingers down the length of her leg and
unlatches the surprisingly dainty shoes from her feet.  He presses a kiss
to each foot, just then realizing that she has been wearing them all
along.  When he drops the heels onto the floor beside the bed, they land
with a thump, much like the steady beat of his heart.

He pulls the sheets out from under her, so he can wrap her
up in the them.  He doesn’t try to hide from her, as he stands next to the
bed.  He watches over her for a minute, but she doesn’t look up at
him.  She’s so delicate when she wants to be; a small, colorful flower in
full bloom.