The last ride, p.13
The Last Ride, page 13
“What is it, Moira? Spit it out. I’ve never known you to be shy.” He grunted as he thrust so deep it felt as if his cock reached the back of my throat.
Clutching at his back, knowing I would leave marks and not caring that I was, I panted. “I just…can’t believe, oh god, oh…your stamina.”
A slow, seductive grin spread over his features. “Babe, that's because you’re fucking a SEAL. I could do this for days.” He thrust so deep he hit the lip of my womb, walking the razor’s edge of pleasure and pain.
“Oh god.”
“Oh yeah, in this moment, I am your god, babe. By far this is the best invasion I’ve ever staged.”
“Ben, I can’t. It’s too much.”
“Give me one more, babe, and then I’ll let you rest.”
“Hurry,” I begged, beyond senseless.
With his gaze trained on my face, he proceeded to drive my body up another steep cliff. Our breaths mingled. My body reached for the glistening pinnacle of ecstasy.
Wanting it.
Aching for it.
I ascended to the gates of heaven, only to have my orgasm sink its feral teeth into me until I screamed as I came harder than ever before. My nails shredded his back as he power-drove into me and followed me over into bliss.
We ended in a tangled, sweaty heap with Ben’s face buried against the crook of my neck.
“I’ll move in a minute.”
I pressed a kiss against his neck. “You’re fine right where you are. I gotta admit, I like the way you feel.”
He grinned against my neck. “Likewise, babe.”
With a groan, Ben finally withdrew and rolled away. But he dragged me with him so I was cuddled against his side.
“We should get up and shower,” he murmured against my temple.
“Later. Once my legs start working again.”
Ben’s dark, rumbling chuckle filled my soul. “Touché.”
He pressed a kiss against my temple as I snuggled against his chest. I was asleep in seconds.
19
“Are you sure you’ll be all right while I’m gone?” I stood by the garage door with my helmet in my hands. I hated leaving her alone like this with the threat hanging over her head. But this breakfast Roman set up with the detective from the local sheriff’s office was important. It meant I was one step closer to leaving South Carolina and Moira behind. One step closer to rejoining my crew.
But the thought of leaving no longer held the same appeal it did twenty-four hours ago.
Moira rolled her eyes in exasperation from her seat at the kitchen table. “Ben, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long damn time. I’m positive I’ll survive two hours by myself.”
“What are you going to do while I’m gone?” I was being overbearing, so sue me. She’d get over it, and it would give me the illusion that she would be all right.
“If you must know, I’ve got laundry and grocery shopping to do. Fun times.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the confounded woman cut me off.
“I appreciate the concern, Ben, truly, but I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine. If I run into any problems, I will call you, okay? So, go have breakfast with your friends, and I’ll be here when you get back.”
She was right. Two hours alone wouldn’t make a big difference. I checked my watch and winced at the time.
“Go. I know you want to meet your friends.”
If it was only Roman and the guys I was meeting, I’d blow them off in favor of enticing her back into bed. But this breakfast was for her. If I didn’t take this step, something could go seriously wrong with this stalker, and she could be hurt.
Or worse.
The guilt I felt at sleeping with Evan’s ex-girlfriend was nothing compared to what I would feel if she was hurt or killed because I couldn’t get my head out of my ass long enough. I’d never be able to live with it. This meeting was far too important to skip out on.
“Fine. Text me if you decide to stop anywhere else on the way home. This shouldn’t take me more than two hours.”
“Oh, good gravy, yes, Dad.” She cocked her head with a small grin. “Or should I call you Daddy?”
“Ha! Funny girl. You want to misbehave so I can discipline you and have you call me Daddy?” It wasn’t in my wheelhouse, but if it was what she wanted, I’d play along.
She snorted and put her coffee mug in the sink. “No. Daddy kink is not my thing.”
I moved in close, boxing her against the counter. “But you do have a kink.”
“Doesn’t everybody?” She lifted a dark brow.
“Moira,” I growled. I wanted to know what her kink was. Even though I knew it was dangerous territory we were entering. Territory that could make me toss out my good sense and skip the meeting.
She shoved me back. “We don’t have to have this discussion now. In fact, I’m leaving for the grocery store. Text me if there’s anything you want me to pick up for you. Lock up behind you.”
Then she grabbed her purse and raced out the garage door before I could stop her. I followed her out, locking the door with the spare key she’d given me. I rolled my Harley out of the garage only to watch her take off down the street.
The woman was going to give me an aneurysm.
After ensuring the house was secure, I headed off. It was a balmy seventy-eight degrees this morning with a light wind. The sun shone brightly with nary a cloud in the sky. The scent of honeysuckle and magnolias stirred along the breeze.
I saw the appeal of living here. The weather alone was incredible. The drive to the restaurant was short and sweet.
The Southern Line Café was situated next to a set of old railroad tracks. It had originally been a railroad stop. But over the years, it changed hands until its current owners transformed it from a museum no one ever visited to a bustling café with the proclamation that it was the best breakfast this side of the Mason-Dixon line.
I parked and headed inside. I had to admit the place had this rustic old farmhouse charm. Even if I could do without the gingham tablecloths. I spotted Roman, Liam, and Owen at the table with a guy in jeans, biker boots, and an eighties rock band on their shirt, his hair almost completely gray.
“Wondered if you were going to make it,” Roman mused as I took a seat on the empty chair.
“Sorry, had to make sure Moira got off to the store all right and the house was secure. Took longer than I would have liked.” I wasn’t going to mention that I’d spent not only last night but this morning in bed with Moira. It would only muddy the waters.
Roman nodded. “Ben, I’d like to introduce you to Detective Dan Freemont with the Charleston Police Department. Dan, this is Ben. We served with him in the SEALs, and he’s one of the best there is.”
Dan didn’t bat an eye at the mention of my being a SEAL. Which isn’t the reaction I normally received. He held out his hand for me to shake. He had a good grip.
“Pleasure. I was Air Force myself.”
“But we don’t hold that against him,” Owen stated, his voice dripping with friendly sarcasm.
“I can still whup your ass at pool,” Dan blithely responded, like he’d taken their ribbing about being in a different branch so much it no longer fazed him.
“My grandad was Air Force. Served in Vietnam,” I told him.
That got Dan’s attention. He smiled at me. “No shit. How’d you end up a Frogman?”
“That is a long, convoluted story best told over a few cold ones. Did these guys explain the situation?”
“Somewhat. Why don’t you buy me breakfast and tell me the full story?”
Now that I could do. I nodded. “Done.” I held up my hand, signaling the waitress. Once she took our orders, I relayed the information about Moira’s stalker.
“They hacked her security system feed? Really?” Dan’s brows were raised so high they almost disappeared into his hairline.
“Yep. That’s what our contact discovered.”
“I’m assuming that’s intel that can’t be used in a case.” Dan sighed.
“Nope,” Roman interjected. “Our spook said it didn’t come from him. But he did give me a report with all the data one of your cyber cops could trace. And then any of the info you would glean could be used.”
“Get me the information. This doesn’t sound like something that’s just going to go away. And frankly, I trust the intel. Why hasn’t she come to the police and filed a report?”
“She said she tried, but because she owns a strip club and still dances on occasion, the local police didn’t take her seriously.”
Dan grimaced like the news put a bad taste in his mouth. “If you can get me the names of the officers who took her statement and dismissed her, I’d appreciate it. There’s nothing that pisses me off more than shoddy police work. Especially when there is a credible threat.”
“I can do that. But what can we do on this end?”
“You’re staying with her?” Dan leveled me with a hard stare. A lesser man would flinch beneath his steely glare.
I just nodded. “For the time being.”
A single brow rose on Dan’s face before he shook his head. “That’s none of my business. What is my business is if anything more happens.” Dan withdrew a business card from his pocket. Then he snagged the pen the waitress left behind and wrote on the back. He handed me the card. “Those are my numbers. Personal cell is on the back. If something happens, call me.”
“Will do. And I appreciate it.”
“How long are you planning on staying?”
“Until we catch this guy, or my leave time is up.”
Dan nodded. “Understood. I’m going to say this, don’t do anything stupid while you’re at it. I know you can handle yourselves, but don’t fucking go to war in my jurisdiction. I really don’t want to have to arrest you.”
“Noted. I need to get back.”
“Why does he get to stay with the stripper, and I don’t?” Liam asked with a pretend frown.
“Get your own stripper,” I said and pushed away from the table, tossing down a few twenties to cover breakfast.
“By that statement, is she yours?” Roman asked with a keen eye. Fucker was always too perceptive for his own good.
“I’ll see you boys later,” I replied, not answering the question. Liam and Owen laughed while Dan and Roman gave me a knowing stare.
I strode away. I wasn’t ready to discuss Moira yet with anyone. Not when I was still trying to figure out if this was just sex with the most intense amount of chemistry.
I’d slept with my best friend’s ex-girlfriend. Although slept with was a rather broad term that didn’t encompass what really happened. When what I had really done was fucked her until my body gave out. Until I’d come so many times my dick was fucking sore. And then woke up this morning and took her again in the shower.
Was she mine?
It felt like it.
But that truth made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t the settling down type. What type of future would Moira and I have, anyway? We were worlds apart. My life was elsewhere, and hers was here.
I only had two years left before I retired, a little voice whispered in my ear.
So? I thought militantly.
If I was looking for what or who might be in my future when I retired, Moira could be part of that. But it was too soon to tread that route. We were enjoying each other’s company. But we’d move on once I headed out to meet Wyatt and the rest of the gang.
At least, that was what I told myself as I climbed on my bike and started the engine. But as I drove away from the Southern Line Café, I knew it for the lie it was. Because sometime overnight, Moira had sunk her hooks in.
And the thought of walking away from her didn’t sit well at all. Not when a part of me wanted to come back once my time was up and sink into her softness for good.
I carted in bags of groceries. With Ben staying with me, I was going through food like it was going out of style. I knew guys could eat a lot. Hell, Evan had practically needed a forklift full of food whenever he blew through town.
But I’d forgotten, silly me, just how much a SEAL was like a professional athlete, needing to constantly refuel, only more so. Which meant I’d bought extra this morning while the busybodies looked down their noses at me.
Really one would think it wouldn’t get to me after all this time. That I would be used to the looks and the sneers, that the do-gooders’ snide comments and brazen glares wouldn’t still cut like a knife.
And for the most part, they no longer did. But there were times, like now, when I felt like I was under attack, and their disapproving stares got under my skin. It was stupid.
But then, I felt emotionally raw after the last few days. Between Ben and his crew appearing on my doorstep, the letter from Evan that was mocking me at this point for being a coward, and then letting my walls down with Ben last night, I was an emotional rollercoaster.
In all my life, I’d never felt that close to anyone before. The burdens I carried were heavy, and I’d been on my own for a long damn time. I figured there would never be anyone strong enough to bear them—until Ben.
It was laughable, really. Because with my career, what kind of decent man would really want to commit to me? Evan certainly hadn’t. And I doubted his best friend would.
The thing was, I wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I’d known that for most of my life. But I’d hoped eventually that I would be someone’s shot of whiskey.
For a little while last night, when I was cuddled against him, I felt safe within the shelter of his arms for the first time in so long I couldn’t remember ever feeling that safe. And perhaps I was being fanciful and looking at the event through rose-colored glasses, but he was there with me the whole time.
Beyond the orgasms and the pleasure, he’d been there. And when he’d looked at me, it had felt like he saw me. The real me without the artifice and bad bitch attitude. And he hadn’t run off in the middle of the night.
He’d stayed, when even Evan had run.
I didn’t know how to feel about that. Because the thing was, I’d hoped for that one person for so long that my hope had turned to acid long ago.
I wasn’t going to apologize for my profession. I was good at it. Although my dancing days were coming to a close, I still owned a strip club. I cared about my girls. I wanted to be the boss I wished I’d had as I was making my way in the world. One who had their backs and made it a safe space for them.
Eventually I might sell the club, but only to a good buyer who’d treat the girls right. It couldn’t be just anyone.
Tater stood near the front door, growling.
“Tater? What’s going on, bud? Did the neighbor’s cat get loose again?” I waltzed toward the front door and peered out the window. Tater hated the neighbor’s cat. The big orange kitty liked to come by the front door when he got out and teased Tater shamelessly.
And that’s when I saw it. It wasn’t the neighbor’s fat cat.
I sucked in a ragged breath, feeling a scream building in my chest.
Dangling from a thin rope on the oak tree in the front yard was a manilla envelope. Fear skittered along my spine. On autopilot, I opened the door and headed toward the tree. Glancing left and right, feeling there were eyes on me everywhere.
When I reached the tree, I realized the rope was fishing line, and it was a hook through the envelope that held it up. I removed it from the fishhook. Opening the envelope, I withdrew a sheaf of photos.
My heart pounded as I went through the images. They were of me. But then they changed. There were images of the guys in the backyard with me. One of all of us in my dining room eating dinner. There were multiples of Ben and me. The first night he stopped by the club to last night as we exited together.
There was even an image of the two of us entering the house through the garage as it was closing. The look on our faces said it all. We were completely focused on each other, hunger and need splashed across our faces.
And that’s when I noticed writing on the back of the image.
How could you do this to me?
Don’t forget who you belong to.
Now I’m going to have to punish you.
My phone buzzed. With shaky hands, I grabbed my phone from my back pocket. And almost dropped it over the text from an unknown number.
Do you like my gift?
What the hell? Paranoia seized me. Large hands gripped me from behind, and I screamed bloody murder. Tater barked up a storm. Then there were hands on my face.
“Moira, babe, it’s me. Deep breaths for me, honey.”
Ben’s face swam into my field of vision. His mouth moved, but I had this loud buzzing in my ears.
“Talk to me, babe.”
“He’s watching me.”
Dark fury radiated off Ben. “I know. Come inside with me. Please.”
It was the please that jolted me from my stupor. “All right.” And for once in my life, I didn’t fight when he directed me. Ben assumed responsibility.
Which was fine with me since I could barely hear past the buzzing in my ears. He ushered me inside the front door and into the living room. Once I was seated on the sofa, I watched him call someone. But the words he said didn’t compute.
“Yeah, I know. But he’s been here this morning. Fine. See you soon.”
And then he was kneeling in front of me. Those enigmatic blue eyes filled with concern as they searched my face.
“Talk to me, honey.”
“They’re not going to stop. Are they?” I hadn’t really believed it was anything more than a nuisance—until now. I thought it was just someone being a tad too fixated on me. But that it would blow over.
I had a lot of guys crush on me over the years. Many of the regular patrons were just lonely men who fixated on me because they didn’t have anyone in their lives. I’d even had one man propose years ago. And I’d always been able to control the situation and maintain the upper hand. But in this scenario, I was lost. And I didn’t know what to do or how to handle it.
“No, babe, he’s not.” I spied the truth in his eyes. He was worried, but wasn’t saying it.
Bless him.
“I’ve got a police detective coming to the house. Trust me. I’m going to make sure you’re okay. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
