Chapter 4 #2
Merci wiggled against my body and pouted. “I just want to have fun. I wasted the past two years with Mr. Stick Up His Ass, and I lost my entire youth becoming a doctor. Let’s just stay for another hour.”
I rolled Merci onto her back and pinned her arms beside her. “Stop resisting. We’re leaving. Now.”
She struggled against my hold and then paused, her eyes widening. She bit her lip and rolled her hips under me, letting out a low moan.
“Fuck,” I growled low in my chest as my body reacted to her movement.
Her breath quickened, and she bucked her hips against my hard cock again, the friction damn near shattering nearly every thought in my mind.
Before the last thread of my self-control frayed, I stood and yanked her up.
I tossed her over my shoulder and carried her to my bike, the small crowd of drunken college students staring.
Holding onto one wrist so she couldn’t flee again, I slipped my helmet onto her head and snapped the clasp.
“Get on the bike.”
“You get on the bike,” she countered, tilting her head to look at me in defiance.
I flexed my jaw. “I will. After you. You can’t run if you have my bike between your legs.”
Merci smirked. “I wouldn’t be able to run if I had you between my legs either.”
I closed my eyes, sucking in a long, ragged breath to steady myself. “I swear to God if you don’t get on this bike right fucking now—”
“Fine, fine,” she interrupted.
I stifled a groan as she swung her leg over, flashing her lace panty-clad ass when her leather skirt rode up. I shifted my body to block the view from the gaping college crowd before swinging my leg over the bike in front of her.
“But what about you?”
I gripped the handlebars and twisted halfway to look at her. “What about me?”
“You aren’t wearing a helmet.”
I snorted and revved the engine. “I didn’t bring a spare. I’ll be OK. You’re the one with the brains, sweetheart.”
Merci wrapped her arms tight around me, and I sped away into the night.
I tried to distract myself from the feel of her body curled against mine, her soft tits pressing into my back.
She moved a hand down and began to massage my thigh.
An involuntary groan escaped me, and I quickly grabbed her hand and placed it back around my waist.
“Behave,” I ordered, the words getting lost in the wind.
“Hatchet?” she asked.
“What?” I barked.
“Can we stop at McDonald’s?”
I shook my head, a rough laugh releasing from my chest. “Sure, doll. We can stop at McDonald’s—but only if you stop touching me. You pull any more shit that will have your brother cutting my dick off, and we go straight home.”
I felt her huff against my back dramatically.
“Deal,” she agreed as she tightened her arms and leaned into a turn with me.
Sitting across from me in a twenty-four-hour McDonald’s, Merci mauled two cheeseburgers and a shake.
“What?” she asked, her voice muffled by a mouthful of fries.
I crossed my arms and shook my head. “Just hoping you don’t remember any of this in the morning.”
“Why?” she asked, all innocence. Like she hadn’t just ground against me in a miniskirt or felt me up on the back of my bike.
I reached for her shake, hoping the cool liquid would anchor me.
A grin crossed her face. “You know I’ve had a crush on you since I was fifteen?”
I blinked twice before responding. “No. This stops now.” This woman would get me killed. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Coast. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, you still awake?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Sober enough to drive?”
“Yeah. Work on the ranch starts early.”
“I need you to come to the McDonald’s in town with a car to pick up Merci. She’s drunk.”
“Sure, be there in a few.”
I set my phone on the table and watched Merci play with the straw on her shake, moving it up and down as she stared into my eyes.
“I want an apple pie.”
I raised a brow at her, staring at her for a beat before standing. “Drink your water first.”
“Don’t want water,” she argued. “I want an apple pie.”
“I don’t give two fucks about what you want. Drink your goddamn water, and then I’ll get you a pie to go. You can eat it while Coast drives you home.”
“Why?”
“Why do I want you to drink water? Because you’re drunk.”
Merci rolled her eyes. “Why’s Coast picking me up? Why can’t I ride back with you?”
I flexed my jaw. “Because you can’t keep your hands to yourself, and I only have so much self-control.”
Merci’s phone pinged on the table, and she ignored it, closing her eyes in drunken ecstasy as she ate her fries. My eyes skimmed the screen, and I yanked the phone over, flexing my jaw as I read the message. I scrolled up to read several more that had come in over the past few hours.
Unknown: I love you, and I’m sorry.
Unknown: She meant nothing. No man will ever love you like I do.
Unknown: If you’ve fucked one of your biker friends, it’s OK. I’ll forgive you if you just come home.
The most recent one nearly had me throwing her phone in the deep fryer.
Unknown: I always knew you were a biker whore.
“Why is that asshole still texting you?” I asked, snagging her unsteady gaze back to mine.
Merci shrugged. “Every time I block his number, he texts me from a new one. He’s like a hydra.”
“A what?”
“Read some literature. A hydra. Mythical creature. Grew two new heads every time one was cut off. I block him, then he texts me from a new number.”
“Get a new number,” I suggested.
“Why? He’ll just get it from the hospital. He’ll get tired of trying to get back with me soon.”
Merci hummed along to a song as she dipped a fry into a disgusting amount of ketchup. “Did you know you’re cute when you’re mad? Like a growly golden retriever.”
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back as I ground my molars.
“You get those little lines between your eyebrows,” she continued. “I don’t get why you’re mad at me though.” Her tone shifted, almost like she was worried.
I leveled my gaze at Merci. “I’m not mad at you. I just want to live to see my thirty-fourth birthday.”
“When’s your birthday?” she chirped.
“Next month. July 24.”
“Why wouldn’t you make it to your birthday?”
Her innocent tone surprised me. Like she hadn’t considered the consequences if I crossed the line she danced so close to. I rubbed my short beard. “Because you’re temptation wrapped in sin, tied in a death-wish bow.”
“I’m throwing you a birthday party,” Merci declared.
“Yeah?”
“And you can unwrap me as your present,” she said with a giggle.
I groaned and covered my face. The bell on the McDonald’s door rang, and Coast strolled in, a smug look on his face as he took in my exasperated expression.
I stood, every muscle in my body tense. “She’s your problem now,” I grumbled, pushing past him. I handed him a wad of cash. “Buy her a goddamn apple pie and get her back safe. And if she gets handsy, tie her fucking hands behind her back.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Merci said with a grin. She started dancing in her chair, singing a song about whips, chains, and being tied to things.
Coast chuckled as I stomped away. I fired up my bike, chancing one last glance at Merci through the brightly lit windows.
Over the years, she’d always been just Merrick’s sister to me. A clever, smart-mouthed girl who was barely around because she was too busy studying.
But now I was looking at the woman she’d become in the years since she’d left for college and become a doctor. I couldn’t stop thinking about how her body had felt beneath mine in the field. The way my heart had thundered in my chest when she stroked my thigh on the back of my bike.
Resisting Merci would be the death of me.