Chapter 11
ELEVEN
She closed her eyes against the flood of emotion. God, despite how deeply he’d hurt her, she wanted to comfort him, to rid him of that hitch in his voice that told her he was feeling regret. He regretted what he’d done to her…that’s what it seemed like, anyway. Dammit! How could she let someone who literally fucked her for information back into her life? He’d stolen her self-worth, made her feel like garbage, like she was something he could throw away because she meant nothing to him?—
But he came when he didn’t have to…that has to mean something! It was definitely more than Joe had done when they’d dated; he would have told her to call the cops, then asked her to stop by the liquor store for his favorite, expensive brandy, and then the post office to pick up his latest order from Neiman Marcus; a new suit…that she’d paid for, of course.
When she was dating Joe, all the red flags were there, but she’d ignored them because she was so hard up for companionship.
You were so needy you willfully ignored all the signs…but James, he never asked you for anything, he paid for everything, and always came when you needed him. Like today.
Hell, there was that voice again, that winged-haloed creature on her shoulder pointing out all the non-asshole-ish things James had done.
Maybe you should let him explain…. Yeah, she’d overheard what he’d said to Cluster, and Frost had all but revealed the truth to her, but…she hadn’t let Locust—James—explain things to her. Was she being an easy bitch, thinking his thoughtful Chinese dinner, and riding to her rescue were sign enough that he actually cared about her? She’d read thousands of romance novels over the years, and she always loved the push and pull, and angst of the “he wronged her, he grovels” trope. But…she always hated how the heroine made the hero grovel so hard he lost a part of what made her love him in the first place.
Was that what she wanted with Locust? Did she want him to prove his love and grovel until his knees bled, or did she want to just leave him in her past, and hope her heart healed one day?
She had no idea what to think…what to do, and in that moment she felt so conflicted, she could only focus on the now.
Fighting the urge to reassure him, to tell him that the man she met almost six months ago was good enough for her, she stepped away from his hand. He didn’t drop it, though. He reached out, looping his fingers in her hair, twisting the end of a lock around his fingers. The blonde hair looked good sliding through his tanned fingers.
She shuddered, remembering too well how good it felt to have those same fingers making a fist around her hair.
He hummed, and the sound made her nipples hard, and she trembled at the sensation. Nothing, in all her life, felt as good as when Locust touched her, poured all his focus on making her light up, fill up, then empty out—satiated.
Tension pulsed between them, her breath catching as he growled low in his throat. The fingers in her hair dropped in her chin, holding her in place, while his other hand fell to her waist, gripping her tightly.
Locust leaned down, his dark blue gaze pinning her in place, peering through her, to the deepest parts of her, the parts that still wanted him desperately.
“I need to taste you, my Nadia…I’ve missed your mouth, baby,” he rasped, his warm breath drifting over lips that ached for his.
Like a predator sensing a weakness in its prey, Locust dropped his head and took her mouth, commanding it, devouring her lips, conquering her tongue, demanding she give every ounce of her will to him. And she did. She couldn’t not give in.
She missed him so much. She missed this so much. His touch, his kisses, his body as it moved over hers, inside hers, making her come alive even when she felt like she was dying from pleasure. How could this be faked—he felt something for her, he had to; there was no way the erection grinding against her wasn’t real.
He pulled her into him, his granite cock pressing into her soft belly. They both groaned at the friction. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue inside the cavern of her mouth to plunder, leaving the sensation of heat and the taste of him behind.
Suddenly, he reared back, breaking the kiss, his breaths heaving.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed. “I could taste you all goddamn day, baby.” His voice was husky, rough, like he’d just surfaced from nearly drowning.
Woozy from the lack of oxygen herself, she could only list to the side, thankful for his hand on her hip keeping her upright against his large, fortified body. She planted her face in his chest, sucking in breaths that carried the aroma of oil and the forest and him, and she closed her eyes against the burn of tears behind her eyes. She missed this…so freaking much. Being this close to him, having been ravaged by his kisses, by his body against hers…how could he have ruined that with lies?
Steeling herself for whatever came next, she pulled back. He didn’t drop his arm right away, instead, he brushed a kiss over her lips—once, twice—then over her forehead. For such a hard man, his lips were soft.
God…the man was dangerous to her body…and heart.
Warm, gooey, her legs like noodles, she almost didn’t hear what he said, but once she did, everything came crashing back.
“Pack a bag for a few days, yeah? We’ll drop it by my apartment. I’ll get a prospect to watch this place, make sure your brother doesn’t come back.”
Shaking off the effects of his thorough mouth ravaging, she stared at him, unblinking. He smirked that sexy, panty-melting smirk, like he knew she needed a few extra seconds to crank her brain back on.
Wait….
Pack a bag. His apartment? An apartment she hadn’t even been invited to when they’d been “dating”, an apartment he hadn’t even stayed in the months they were together. And now, suddenly, he was making her pack a bag to take with her so she can stay there? What the hell was happening? A spark of anger lit the embers of hurt still smoldering in her guts. Did Locust honestly think she’d want to stay with him? Him , the man who’d lied to her, seduced her, and broke her heart? Him who had never, not once, taken her to his place, invited her into his space—how had she never realized that before? And that couldn’t be the only red flag she’d missed. What else had he hidden from her, kept from her when he was supposedly all in with her?
But he hadn’t been all in with her; he’d been acting on orders from on high, doing his duty to the club, lying, seducing, invading her privacy—all while she was letting him in, falling in love, planning a future.
Lied…seduced…. And he’d just done it again; kissing her, pleasuring her, until she couldn’t think straight—then he’d gone in for the kill, waiting until she was putty in his hands to twist her into doing something she wouldn’t agree to if she weren’t under his sex god spell.
Motherfucker!
With more force than even she anticipated, she planted her hands on his chest, and pushed. Shocked, he stumbled back into the dresser behind him, making the whole thing quake.
His arms out to steady himself, he looked at her, eyes wide and burning with anger, he barked, “What the fuck, babe?”
Shaking in her anger, she pointed at him, her hand trembling. “I’m not going anywhere with you, asshole! What? You think you can kiss me stupid then lay on the sexy biker routine, and I’ll fall right into your hands like I did the first time? You think that I’m so pathetic, all you need to do to get me to comply is kiss me, make me feel like you actually want me, and then the lonely, fat chick will follow right behind you like you’re the goddamn biker Pied Piper? Throw out a kiss, fake like you fucking care, and I’ll pack a bag and go to your place—a place you never even bothered inviting me to before when I actually thought we were a couple.”
As she spoke, his face got harder, his eyes got darker, and his body seemed to get larger, until everything about him vibrated with barely leashed violence. But she wasn’t scared of him. She was too pissed to be scared, anyway.
“I see you’re under a misconception that you have any fucking choice in the matter. Yeah, there’s some shit we need to talk about, to clear the table so we can get back to the good between us, but now isn’t the time. Your brother is in some deep shit…and I need you safe ,” he growled that last bit, making the hairs on her arms and back of her neck stand on end.
Hissing out a breath, she planted her hands on her hips, and finished, “You are out of your mind if you think you have any say in my life, Locust . You lost that right when I realized I was a job for you. Your business is with my step-brother. Leave me the hell out of it. Go, leave, don’t come back; I’m done with being your toy, something you use for your duty and amusement.”
Her breath caught at the speed of her pounding heart; she was really, finally, telling him off. She didn’t have time to pat herself on the back, though, because Locust stomped toward her bedroom door, grabbed the knob, and peered at her with such anger in his eyes, she nearly buckled under it.
“Stay in there, then! I’m not leaving until you’re packed and on the back of my motherfucking bike. And believe me, baby, once I get you to my place, I am spanking that ass for being such a brat.”
With that, he swung the door shut, slamming it closed between them.
Shocked, she could only stare, mouth open.
“And baby,” he drawled through the solid core door, “I can stand out here all day.”
She gasped. “You’re crazy!”
At that, he replied, “Crazy about you, about keeping you safe. Pack a bag or you’re stuck in there until you start thinking straight.”
Oh no he fucking did not !
So, he thought he could get bossy, threaten her, and act like he actually gave a shit about her now ?
She growled, and kicked the door, pissed as hell, and he chuckled at her fit, deep and sexy, the sound barely muffled by the door.
Something wicked stirred deep within her, warring with the spitting mad, rational woman who’d just been locked in her bedroom like a toddler.
That wicked woman wanted to know: where was this man, this bossy, growling beast, months ago when she’d first met James? She mentally grumbled, hating that she was attracted to all that… maleness . Take her feminism card, because she liked that he was angry and protective—she lapped that shit up in her dark mafia and biker romances. But…right then, when she knew he was just being an ass, it wasn’t as cute.
The spitting mad, rational woman was still there, though. Yeah, the bossiness, protectiveness, and dominance was sexy as hell, but it was out of fucking place! She was not his to boss around, protect, or dominate! He lost the right to tell her what to do for her “own protection” when she found out their entire relationship was fake.
Growling again, she stared holes into the door, knowing that trying to get through Locust would require the body mass and speed of a linebacker.
She was smarter than this.
Turning, she spotted the window on the other side of her bed…and grinned.
Oh…the petty was strong….
On light feet—so jackass couldn’t hear her moving around—she hurried to the window. It was only about three feet off the ground, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to get out, though, swiveling her wide thighs and ass through the opening would be tricky. The window itself slid up, but there were stoppers in the frame that kept them from opening completely—it was a safety measure to keep people from climbing through from the outside.
Fat lot of good that does when they can just walk through your wide-open back door!
She rolled her eyes at herself, ignoring Locust’s voice in her head, telling her, “I told you so!”
Getting through the window would be the toughest part, but what was to stop Locust from just coming after her and stopping her before she even got down the block. She was angry at him, but not angry enough to run him and his bike off the road, so he’d catch up to her, make her pull over, and then drag her back, kicking and screaming.
Besides that, her cell, purse, and car keys were on the kitchen counter. Sure, she’d get out of the house, but what the hell would she do then, stand on the road and stick her thumb up her butt? Wait…she had a spare car key somewhere.
Right! Her nightstand. She couldn’t remember why she’d put it there, but now she was glad she had.
But that solved only one part of the problem.
She rubbed her forehead, frustrated at the situation. Finally, her gaze caught on the screwdriver she’d left on her dresser. She’d used it two days ago to tighten the screws on the vent cover in the bathroom, and she’d been too busy to put it back in the kitchen drawer.
Eureka!
She could feel the smile on her face turn malicious, like that evil, green grin the Grinch was so famous for.
Taking a moment, she checked what she was wearing—her best jeans and her lazy tee, which was more like a see-through camisole than a t-shirt, so she threw on a plain gray sweatshirt over it. Snagging her spare car key from the bedside table drawer, she slipped on her flip-flops, snatched the screwdriver off the dresser as she passed, then pulled open the window. Thankfully, they were so new they made no noise, because if Locust was standing outside her bedroom door, glowering at her through it, he’d hear it and know she was up to something.
Staring at the opening, she knew she was going to have some bruises tomorrow, but the petty was riding her something fierce. She refused to be locked in her own home like a felon on parole, and she refused to let Locust turn her inside out with his back and forth, hot and cold, fake and real—she was done with him playing the protective biker boyfriend; his treachery had pulled the blinders from her eyes, and now she was seeing all of his actions clearly.
Oh, so you aren’t confused and horny because you want to believe what he’s feeling is real? You aren’t turned on by his alpha-ness?
Forcing that voice into the box in the back labeled “de-lu-lu,” she pushed her upper body through the window opening, dropped the screwdriver and spare car key so she could use her hands, then—somehow, without breaking her freaking neck—slid right out the window, onto the grass outside. If her neighbors saw her, they’d stare at her like she was crazy.
I am crazy—crazy petty!
Snickering, she righted herself, grabbed the keys and penetrating implement, and slunk around the side of her own house. There, parked along the curb, was Locust’s bike.
God, she knew she shouldn’t, but she knew he’d be on her ass the second he realized what she’d done…and she was feeling particularly vengeful right then. Checking to make sure Locust wasn’t standing near the front windows, Nadia hurried past her car—thankful Locust hadn’t parked right behind her—and stopped at the back of Locust’s bike. It was a beautiful piece of machinery, and she knew Locust had built the beast with his own two hands.
Sad, really, what she was about to do.
Taking the screwdriver in her hand, she squeezed the handle, raised her hand, and thrust down, puncturing the back tire. The blade of the Philip’s head pushed cleanly into the rubber, and slid right back out, leaving a small hole behind. She stood there, silently, waiting to hear if he’d seen her and would tear out of the house after her, but when all she heard were cars in the distance, she let out a relieved breath. Smirking, she scurried to the front tire, and repeated the motions, puncturing that one, too.
Two flat tires, coming up!
She couldn’t wait to see if they’d actually go flat, because she still had to get to her car, get in her car, then start her car without Locust hearing or seeing it. Hopefully, he was still pouting and grumbling outside her bedroom door, so he wouldn’t be alerted about her escape until he actually checked on her.
Her heart revved up, her skin growing slick with sweat—God, this was exciting. Yup, new kink unlocked. The idea of him spotting her, then giving chase, made her clit throb. Lord, she needed help.
Swallowing, she ran to her car, yanked open the door, and slid inside. Dropping the screwdriver into the cupholder, she shoved the key into the ignition, held her breath, her gaze on the door not more than ten feet from her car, and turned the key.
Thankfully, her car was newer, so it started with nary at grumble. Not waiting to see if he heard her, she put the car in reverse and backed out, barely slipping by his bike.
She was out in the road now, in plain view of her front windows.
Her breathing erratic, her heart slam dancing in her chest, she giggled maniacally, anxious as hell.
She definitely needed help.
“Nadia!” his shout carried through the car window and through the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears, and she turned to see him racing toward her across her lawn.
“Shit!” she squeaked, putting the car in drive. Just as his hand slammed against the passenger door, she stomped on the accelerator, jerking forward. Thank God no one was in the road, because she tore out of that neighborhood like locusts were on her ass—and he was. He kept up with her until she reached the end of the street—God, how fit was he? Once she turned the corner, she lost him, but she wasn’t fool enough to think she lost him for long. It would take him mere minutes to get back to his bike and notice his tires. How long before he called in reinforcements and hunted her down?
Why would he hunt her down, though? She wasn’t his, he didn’t really want to keep her at his place, did he? He was just giving lip service, right? He’d give up now that she hadn’t just rolled over and done what he wanted like she had when they first met.
Right?
Don’t kid yourself, woman! That man chased down your car like the freaking Terminator!
It took ten minutes of forced deep breathing to get her mind back in gear. Now that she was out of the house, what the hell were her next steps? She had no wallet so no money, she didn’t have her phone, so she couldn’t call anyone. And she knew that the first place he would look for her was at work.
She needed to find some place to lie low until she could figure it the fuck out. Somewhere with a phone so she could call Vicki. God…Vicki was just going to eat this up; the woman loved over the top drama, and Nadia’s life had become a freaking Passionflix movie.
Where to go….
Cool Hands. She didn’t know why she thought of that; she only knew it was a new place out in Scranton. She’d heard the food was good, the atmosphere was fun, and it wasn’t too far down Pittston Ave, where her car was headed.
“They’ll have a phone I can use,” she muttered to herself. She’d go there, use the phone, call Vicki, then grab a booth and wait. She knew Vicki had the day off, and she was with Sylvia, but her bestie would come and help her de-escalate her frantic thoughts—thoughts like running away to Hawaii or Cabo, and leaving Locust and all that drama behind.
Stop being dramatic!
She couldn’t abandon her house, and she still had to deal with Elijah; figuring out what the hell he was doing vandalizing her closet. But all of that would come once she had a moment to freaking think .