Page 36 of Vengeance (Ruthless MC 4)
Hot tears sting my eyes, thinking of him and the rest of Vengeance.
We had so much fun yesterday. For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like some kind of feral cave person inside. The way I was raised, you had to constantly stay on the lookout for things and people—mostly people who could hurt you. But with them, I felt safe, protected, somehow more peaceful than I’ve ever been, even though we were watching a scary show.
I stop and look back over my shoulder at the house, which is now farther away in the distance than the butte. If I turned back now, maybe I could make it home before they did. I mean, would it really have been so bad to let myself give in? To relax and submit to their rules?
Oh my God, Allie, the answer to that question is yes! You can’t give up your residency to be waited on and sexed up by three hot bikers until they get tired of you. And that place is not your home. It’s a safe house where they’re keeping you prisoner. Wake up! Focus on the plan, and I repeat: Don’t. Be. Crazy.
The trusty voice in my head has guided me through an adulthood that began way too early and almost toward a medical license most women who grew up like I did would never dream of obtaining. It’s never steered me wrong. And, of course, it’s right.
Instead of turning back, I keep on walking.
And as it turns out, my plan works!
After a few more minutes of walking, not only can I hear road noise in the distance beyond the butte, there’s also a tour bus parked right next to the awe-inspiring rock structure. My heart soars. People! I’ve found people.
But then I hear another noise in the distance. Not ahead of me though—behind me.
The distinct growling roar of motorcycle engines. And I know even before I look over my shoulder.
Vengeance has found me.
CHAPTER 17
ALLIE
Vengeance has found me.
Even though it’s a wide-open plain, the sound of their motorcycles fills up the air. Getting closer and closer.
I don’t dare look back. I just take off running.
“Hey!” I scream, waving my arms. “Help! Help!”
Some of the tourists turn from the butte and start pointing at me.
But it’s too late.
A steel band suddenly clamps around my waist—Des-E’s arm hooking me in mid-run.
Without even stopping, he swings me up in front of him on his bike. Like he’s the cowboy in a Western and the motorcycle is his steed.
He says nothing. All that talking he’s been engaging in with me over the last few days? That’s done.
He’s an immovable mountain behind me. And I can’t help but remember the nickname I came up with before I got to know him: Silent Death.
It took me a long time to make it all the way to the butte. An hour at least. But just a few minutes later we’re right back at the house.
They all stop in front of the large cabin. Des-E in the middle, and Vampire and Hyena on either side of him. But they don’t kill their engines and drag me in the house like I assumed they might when I thought about the plan going wrong.
Just the opposite. Des-E yanks up the t-shirt I stole from him, exposing my entire front half. A meaty hand clamps down on the back of my neck, and he pushes me so that I’m splayed ass up over the front of the bike. I can feel the motorcycle's throttling engine everywhere. Across my breasts, throughout my sex, on the inside of my sensitive thighs.
I didn’t want them to catch me. I mean, I don’t think I wanted them to catch me. Nonetheless, my body spasms with pleasure as the deep rumbles rock through me.
“This is your punishment,” Vampire’s voice informs me from somewhere in the distance. “We’ll never give you our cocks again. From now on, this is the only way you’ll get off.”
His words fill me with despair, even as an orgasm begins to rip through me. I’m going to come…I’m going to—
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Mommy? Mommy wake?”
The small voice on the other side of my bedroom door stops the fantasy cold.
The fantasy I definitely shouldn’t still be having—and early morning indulging—two and a half years after my successful escape from that Nebraska log cabin. But not, apparently, from Vengeance.
I might not have seen them in years, but they still haunt me. Especially when I’m ovulating and I wake up achy and horny.
But…
Don’t be crazy.
I silently repeat my now two-and-a-half-year-old mantra. Then call out, “Hold on, honey!”
After hastily switching off the Magic Wand I was frantically humping and throwing it in my nightstand drawer, I pull off my sleep cap and do a mirror check to make sure I don’t look like I was doing what I had no business doing. Okay, hair's a little mussed, but totally fixable with a few fluffs and hand twirls.
