Chapter 9
NINE
Nadia dumped the cold, rock hard fried rice into the trash can with a glower. She hated that she’d wasted her favorite food, but she couldn’t have eaten a single bite last night after what she’d realized.
Locust was watching her, spying on her, and that meant that her business with the Unchained MC wasn’t over, at least for them.
God, I just want to forget about all of it and move on!
Really ? a new voice cooed. You really never want to see Locust again? Never want to see him lying next to you in your bed, staring at you with eyes burning with desire?
No! Because that had all been a lie—he never wanted her, he wanted information on her step-brother and the money her step-brother stole.
Right…keep telling yourself that.
Growling in frustration, she closed the trash can lid and practically tossed the dirty plate into the dishwasher. Slamming the dishwasher shut, she couldn’t stop herself from stewing in her thoughts.
Locust was still watching her…still doing the Unchained’s dirty business, and from what she experienced last night; the text from Unknown , the food delivery, and her closet….
Suddenly, it was all too much.
The heartbreak, the humiliation, the fear, the anger, the rage, the frustration—and it needed an outlet.
Hurrying to her bedroom where she’d left her cell—purposefully ignoring the now closed door of her walk-in, she grabbed her cell from the charging pad on the nightstand, and hit dial on the Unknown number from last night; she knew who the number belonged to.
The phone rang twice before a familiar voice, one that still licked down her spine like sensuous tongues of fire, answered, “Nadia? Baby?”
She sucked in a breath, and spat, “Don’t call me baby, asshole!”
“Nadia—”
“No!” she interrupted, “you will listen to me because I have some shit to say to you.”
She could hear a shuffling over the line, but he didn’t respond, only heaved a sigh. She could picture his expression in her mind’s eye—shoulders taut, face hard, eyes glinting, lips pursed—but she didn’t care. She needed this, needed to get it all off her chest, and he was the vessel for all her life’s problems.
“First, you trick me into dating you, letting you into my house, where you basically became the CIA of the Unchained, looking through my life, my personal space, probably tapping my phones so you could hear if Elijah ever contacted me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you put up cameras to watch me when you weren’t here, and I certainly wouldn’t put it past you to follow me—and don’t say you don’t; we both know I saw you outside Clarks Street Grill a week ago. And after all that you did to me, how you violated my trust and broke my heart, you and your club are still treating me like the enemy, still following me, still looking through my stuff?—”
“What the fuck do you mean?” Locust cut in, his voice steel over diamond, hard and unbending. “No one is looking through your shit now, Nadia, I know that for a fact.”
Nadia rolled her eyes, snorting. “Right, because you didn’t do that before, you didn’t make yourself at home and rifle through my desk, or tear through my closet yesterday?—”
He cursed, loud and long, and she sat there, stunned, unblinking. That was not the reaction she expected.
“Nadia, I was not inside your house yesterday,” Locust said, his voice strangely flat yet tense.
Unwilling to believe what she was hearing…and the implications, she said, “Then one of the other brothers?—”
“No, baby, no other brother would come into your place; Frost handed down the order to leave you alone. If you believe someone trashed your closet…it wasn’t one of us.”
God…suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She could hear the honesty in his voice, the tension…and the fear. He was afraid.
“J-James…” she murmured his real name, her gaze immediately pinned to the closed closet door, behind which was a mess of discarded clothes, turned over shoe boxes, and emptied drawers. Someone had thoroughly tipped her closet, obviously looking for something. “If-if it wasn’t the Unchained….” God, how was this her life right now?
“Nadia, baby, listen to me, I’m on my way. Lock yourself in the bathroom. Don’t open it for any reason; I’ll knock and tell you it’s me.”
Her front door was locked, though, at least she’d locked it the night before, and she’d changed the locks, so he didn’t have a key—but who the hell knew now! “How will you get in?”
Locust chuckled darkly, humorlessly. “You can’t keep me out, baby.” The rumble and rage of a Harley starting growled through the phone. “Get to the bathroom. Sit tight and wait for me. I’m coming.” With that, he hung up, not being able to hold his cell while he was riding his bike.
With shaking hands, she hurried to the bathroom, slipped inside, then shut and locked the door behind her. But that wasn’t enough for her; she stepped into the bathtub, pulled the flower bedecked shower curtain shut, then curled into a ball in the furthest corner from the door.
Her chest aching from shallow breaths, her skin clammy from cold sweats, her head throbbing from the rise in blood pressure—someone had been in her house, someone she didn’t know, and they’d touched her personal, private things. Yes, Locust had done the same thing, but she’d let him in, she’d trusted him, and before his treachery was revealed, she’d welcomed into her home, her space, her body, her heart. But this other person…they’d slashed at her trust and sense of security so viciously, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to sleep another night in the house she loved so much.
She didn’t know how long she was curled up there before she heard the sound of her front door crashing open, and then the heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom door. She held her breath, her body trembling, her heart racing—was it Locust, or was it the person who’d trashed her closet, come back to trash her, too?
The heavy footsteps carried into her bedroom, and she bit back a whimper.
A solid knock against the bathroom door made her jerk and squeak.
“Baby, it’s me. Come open the door now, you’re safe.” It was Locust, his deep voice both soothing her and making her tingly.
Goddamn hormones, wanting to jump the filthy biker with the body of a god and the morality of a sewer rat.
Letting out the breath she’d been holding, she unfolded herself, groaning at the ache in her joints and muscles from being bent in one position for too long, then stepped out of the tub. Pressing a hand against her still racing heart, she used her other hand to unlock and then pull open the door.
Locust was standing on the other side, his hands fisted at his sides, his navy blue eyes devouring her face.
He stepped up to her and cupped her face in his hands. They were shaking . Locust’s. Hands. Were. Shaking.
Shocked at his response, she gasped—and he took immediate advantage.
Between one moment and the next, his head descended, his mouth claimed, and his tongue invaded. Against the ravenous, intense, and mind-bending onslaught, she could only groan, the pleasure too good, the taste of him too delicious—she’d missed this…missed him. Was this what it was like to come home?
Using his hands, he tilted her head, gaining better access with which he plundered, overwhelmed, overpowered. She was truly and completely under his spell. Her body hummed, her thoughts blurred, and her heart pounded. Lips were hard yet soft, giving yet taking, so hot, so wet, so needful. He forced her mouth open, thrusting his tongue inside in long, languid strokes, then he slowed the kiss, nibbling her bottom lip, then pressing another soft kiss there.
This…this felt too real. This…this wasn’t fake.
But what does that mean?
Pulling back, they both dragged in deep breaths, her heart racing, her body thrumming. Plastered against his chest, she stilled at what she was feeling; his breathing was ragged, as though he were trying to inhale through water. As though he couldn’t catch his breath, or he couldn’t drag in enough air to fill his lungs.
Pinching her lips and her eyes closed, she despaired; how could she let him kiss her like that? Oh, yeah, she’d been terrified, saw him standing in the doorway looking like a biker snack, and her body took over, her brain blanking out to let her cooch lead the way.
But, if she were honest, she’d admit that the look on his face had done something to her.
He really actually had been afraid … for her , but why ? She was nothing but an assignment, a mission to him. It wasn’t like Frost could order him to act afraid, to act like he’d run a million miles before he got there. Right?
“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, leaning down to press his forehead against hers, his eyes closing as if in prayer. “When you said someone had been in your closet….” He moved his head from side to side, still connected to hers. His breath hitched as he opened his eyes. “I’d never been so fucking scared in my life.”
She furrowed her brow, her gaze boring into his, searching for the true meaning behind his words; he couldn’t mean what he was saying. Right?
He bent down, burrowing his face into her neck, making her tense and gasp.
“If I lost you….” The words were warm against her flesh, spoken so softly, with such ragged intensity, Nadia could swear it was dragged up from the depths of his soul. His large body shuddered against her, then he dragged in a deep, long, chest heaving breath.
Pulling back slowly, his biceps flexing, tensing, as though putting space between them pained him, he gazed down into her face, his blue eyes darkening.
“Tell me what happened, baby,” he demanded, his voice just this side of human—like an animal was snarling in his belly, desperate to get out and protect its mate.
Is that what I am? No, she mentally shook her head. She meant nothing to him; she was just a target of him and his MC. Just like she was a target with Joe…and then Dana, two people who targeted her because they’d heard about her windfall. Locust wasn’t after her money, but he’d still targeted her for what he thought she could give him; her step-brother.
So why did he come when he thought you were in danger? That man just kissed you like he needed you to survive!
Sucking in a breath, she forced the words out past the lump of confusion in her throat. “I saw it last night…the closet was a mess….”
At the words last night , something happened….
Nadia watched as the fear on his face, the vulnerability that had been there when he kissed her, when he murmured against her neck, seeped from his features, his shoulders, his frame, and then the steel of the biker badass filled him. It was like a switch was flipped, and a totally different man was standing there. A man she’d never met before.
So this is the real Locust…. This was the man who’d happily invaded her life, lying about who he really was, his interest in her, making her fall in love with him. This was the man who didn’t give a second thought to following his president’s orders to seduce and use an innocent woman. This was the man who’d faked the smiles, the laughter, the contentment, the arousal, the sexual interest.
…when I get desperate enough…but I got to be real drunk first….
Her heart clenched, tears burning behind her eyes. He’d actually said that…about her, about what they’d shared together. While she’d been building castles in the sky, dreaming about a future, about a lifetime of intimacy and pleasure with the man she loved, he was calculating how many beers he needed to get hard without getting whiskey dick.
But he seems sincere right now , maybe ? —
No! She wasn’t going to fall for his bullshit again. Obviously, someone had rifled through her closet, and if it wasn’t someone from the Unchained, she had an issue.
Focus on that.
As if sensing the trail of her thoughts, and the resulting anguish, he sighed. “Talk to me, Nadia. I need to know what’s going on.”
She pursed her lips, then nodded. She was well aware that she was out of her depth. Sure, she could call the cops, but what could they do really other than file a report and tell her to lock her doors!
“I came home last night, got your text and the food, then I…I don’t know…felt like something was off. I thought it was you, watching through the windows….”
His lips pinched at that, his expression guarded.
Huh.
“I went to get ready for bed, and when opened the closet door to get pajamas, I noticed….” She couldn’t finish without swallowing down the bile. Shaking her head, she finished, “It was a wreck. Some-someone trashed it.” She turned her head to look over her shoulder at the offending closet door, behind it her own personal nightmare. “At first, I was shocked, you know—I hadn’t left it like that. Then…I was angry; someone had gone through and trashed my stuff. I thought…,” she shrugged, “I thought it was you, rightfully so . Because I didn’t…want to deal with you again, I just figured I’d leave it until this morning. Deal with it when I hadn’t already been going all day. But then I called you….” And when she’d called him, him standing in the middle of her bedroom less than thirty minutes later was not the outcome she expected.
Yeah, you expected him to laugh and admit it was him, but it wasn’t. I was a stranger….
Immediately, fear and frustration embroidered themselves together, thin threads, tied in knots, to form the image of an overwhelmed woman.
“I honestly thought it was you, Locust, but if it wasn’t….” She swallowed hard, her heart racing.
His expression hardened, his shoulders straightened, and it seemed like the whole of him became a marble statue—Greek, of course. His fierce, chiseled beauty remained, but the glint in his eyes now was all business.
Gripping her forearms, he squeezed, the callouses on his hands from working on bikes abrading her skin, making her shiver—for a wholly different reason. In that moment, she wasn’t feeling fear or anger, she was all sorts of aroused.
Goddamn sexy bikers!
She remembered, too well, what it felt like to have those same hands on her naked breasts, kneading them, between her thighs, spreading them, caressing them on their way up to her drenched, aching pussy, on her ass, pulling her into his hard, pounding thrusts….
Thankfully, Locust wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was pinned over her shoulder, otherwise he’d curl his lips in that knowing smirk of his, and she’d have to rummage through the pile on the closet floor for another pair of panties.
Without another word, he slipped by her, and wrenched open the closet door.
She held her breath, unable to follow behind him; she knew what he’d find.