His fingers dig into my hips as I ride him, slow at first, then faster as I find my rhythm. It's like the beat to an almost forgotten song, something I've not indulged in so long that its almost alien to me at first. He meets me thrust for thrust, cursing and moaning my name in an almost musical tempo. If only our life could be this. Fucking and fighting and staying in our little, out of the way corner of the world, far away from the madness of the MC gangs.
He leans up so we're chest to chest, forcing me to alter my rhythm somewhat. His mouth closes over one of my nipples, drawing it into the heat of his mouth. He lavishes attention onto it as I continue to slap my hips into his. One of his hands finds its way between my legs, stroking my clit with precision. I come apart in his arms seconds later, frozen in a moment of pure ecstasy. Kase takes over, thrusting into me, and a second orgasm dovetails into the first, so that I'm left groaning his name over and over like a prayer.
"Kase, Kase, oh god Kase..."
He releases with another grunt and then we collapse, me on top, panting and shaking as little aftershocks roll through me.
"I fucking love you," he whispers. "And I'm going to protect you, no matter what."
I'm too exhausted for fear to get a proper foothold inside me, but unease drapes over me like a heavy quilt. Because no matter what he says to the contrary, I know that I'm not worth it. Maybe worth his love, worth his attention, but certainly not worth his life.
And I'm truly afraid he'll end up laying it down for me.
* * *
When we wake again, there's no ignoring our stomachs anymore. It's been over a day since either of us has eaten and since then I've nearly frozen to death and we've both engaged in rigorous sexual activity. I'm shocked neither of us has keeled over at this point. Kase seems unwilling to leave my side, even though its necessary.
"You should come with," he argues.
I raise an eyebrow. "And wear what? This thing?" I pluck at the thin nightgown. "It's pouring out there, Kase. I'm not signing up for the world's lamest wet t-shirt contest. I'll look around here for those camp rations while you try to get something out there, okay?"
Kase doesn't look happy, but he can at least concede that I'm not dressed for hunting. Kase retrieves the gun that he stole from one of our attackers and, after donning a few of his uncle's castoffs and his riding jacket, steps out into the rain. The second he's gone, I'm anxious he's not coming back. The sun is barely shining, and the fog could be masking anything.
Kase is sure there are camp rations around here somewhere, so I distract myself from the panic by looking for them. There aren't that many places they could be hiding. The kitchenette's cupboards are woefully bare, and there's nothing beneath the sink but a couple of gallons of bleach. Probably filled with water. I've never been camping, but I had a friend whose father was a doomsday prepper. This was the sort of thing he'd stash, just in case clean water stopped flowing.
I check the closet and find more blankets and clothing, but no food. When I've scoured the place and still find nothing, I'm disappointed. I shift my weight from foot to foot, turning in an uneasy circle. The floorboards creak and I realize that I haven't checked everywhere yet. The floorboards. I test each one with my toe, stopping only when I find a patch that sounds different than the others. I bend and test the board. It's loose. I slip two fingers beneath it, ready to pry it up.
A creak on the floor behind me signals Kase's return.
"I think I found the food," I tell him, turning to face him with a pleased smile.
Except it's not Kase. This man is shorter and stubbier, and familiar. He's middle-aged and could almost have looked like a college professor in different clothes. A nice square jaw, sandy brown hair, brown eyes the color of melted caramel, and a melt-your-heart smile. If he'd been a little younger, I'd probably have fallen for him. Antony Dallas has always been a kindly figure in my life. One of my father's best friends.
And at the moment, he has the end of a Beretta m9 shoved between my eyes. The skin beneath the muzzle prickles, as though it wants to flee right off my face. Axel stands a little way behind him, a wall of ugly, intimidating muscle ready to deploy if I make any move to run.
"Brooklyn," Dallas purrs, putting on an affected air of paternal concern. "I'm so glad we finally found you. I've been worried sick. Why'd you go and jump from the trunk, baby girl? You could have gotten hurt."
My head spins and exhaustion threatens to drag me back into a black void of unconsciousness. Dallas? Dallas orchestrated this whole thing? Axel I could have believed. He's thuggish and stupid, but still ambitious. But Dallas? What the hell does he stand to gain by doing this?
He hunkers down in front of me, offering that kindly smile that I've seen so often over the years.
"Your father will regret not giving you to me when I asked," he tells me, a cold note beneath the chipper delivery. "It didn't have to come to this, you know. We could have been one big happy family. But he's brought this on himself now."
Then Dallas pulls me forward into a kiss, jamming the gun beneath my ribs to keep me still. I might have liked the kiss once upon a time. He's handsome and the taboo of being with my father's friend might have appealed to me only a few months ago. But now I have Kase back, and by abducting me, he’s lost the only shred of a chance he has with me.
He pulls away from me, eyes half-lidded, his caramel eyes tracing my face, gauging my response.
I meet his gaze, suck in a deep breath, and scream.
11
Kase
I'm not counting on shooting much tonight. The rain is going to have most critters bunkering down to stay out of the storm. I don't have the right equipment to trap or fish. So I set my sights on gathering plants that are edible. I've managed to collect several roots and greens and have the good luck to catch a snake, holding it down with my boot and preparing to blow its head off.
Before I can send the wriggling creature to its grave, I hear something that has me running before I even have time to think. It's a scream, and there's only one woman around here to make it. I hit several trees on my way back, bouncing off, taking the stinging pain in stride as I fight my way back to the cabin. When I emerge into the clearing there's a huge black car idling in front of the cabin.
Brooklyn is struggling in the arms of two men. One is as ugly as a gargoyle, the other has the benign sort of charm that one might find in a fashion catalogue. Both have weapons, but only the male model has his out. Brooklyn lashes out with her foot, catching the ugly one right in the nads.
