Sitting in the dark driveway, he stared at the house. He felt jittery, the completeoppositeof calm. And what’s worse was that he couldn’t even listen to his favorite podcast to try to relax as he usually did.
He was such a fucking mess! How had this even happened? Yesterday, he was on his way to his best friend’s sister’s wedding and now he was contemplating kidnapping the bride? What fucking alternate reality had he stepped into? How was this his current life?
What were his options anyway? Stay and watch the woman heknewwas meant to be his get married to another man tomorrow? Because it was after midnight, which meant the wedding was now less than a day away. Leaving felt… It feltwrong. When he’d ridden off before, he’d gone in the opposite direction of home because he couldn’t even make himself consider leaving her. But watching her get married? Watchinganother man place his ring on her finger when Ghost had no doubthisring was meant to be on her finger.
And why? Because he recognized her voice? Because he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the universe? Because he now knew he’d been put on this planet with the sole purpose of bettering her life and making her happy?
Movement caught his eye. A shadow on the porch moved to the side of the house. Suspicion rising, Ghost’s hand went to the small of his back where his SIG Sauer P226 was holstered. It was the middle of the night. No one should be out on the porch this late. Climbing off his bike, he headed across the lawn. The wrap-around porch had a high railing, and he used that to his advantage as he ducked low. The footsteps on the polished wood became more defined the closer he got, until he knew he was right on the other side of the person.
In a swift motion, Ghost levied himself up and over the railing. He landed squarely on his boots and drew his weapon.
Ceramic hit the floor as a mug of hot liquid splattered everywhere. Green eyes met his, and she opened her mouth to scream. Ghost rushed her, clamping a hand over her mouth, trapping the air from escaping her lungs. At the same time, his body trapped her against the side of the house.
“It’s me,” he rushed to assure her. “Just me.”
Her breath was harsh against the inside of his hand, warm. As recognition registered, fear was replaced with… Fuck him, was that desire? The way her eyes dilated in the dim porch light, the way her breathing turned and her cheeks flushed…
Ghost took a step forward, ceramic crunching beneath his boots. His hand still over her mouth, he moved his other one to the small of his back to re-holster his weapon. “What are you doing out here, Becks? It’s the middle of the night.”
Her eyes narrowed on him—and he had the distinct impression that she was about to bite or lick his palm—but themovement of her eyebrows had his eyes drawing away from hers for the first time. Above her right eye, partly covered by her unkempt hair, was a bandage.
Ghost stiffened, straightening. His hand leaving her mouth, he raised it to her temple to lift her hair out of the way. The bandage was small, no bigger than his thumb, but it was there. She’d been hurt, wounded, while he’d been away.
Was her fiancé here? Had he come early and harmed her? Where the fuck was Ranger? If he was anywherebutburying a body, Ghost was going to kill him himself.
Hands, small and delicate, caught him around his waist. “No, stop!” With surprising strength, Becks pulled him back to her. Their hips connected, and Ghost put a hand out on the siding of the house to keep himself from squashing into her.
They fit. Like two pieces of a puzzle, they fit. Her softness to his hard edges, they stood together against the side of the house like their bodies were made to create one entity. But as momentous as it was, Ghost could not forget her injury.
“Who hurt you, Rebel?”
Her eyes widened. “Why… Why would you call me that?”
“Was it supposed to be a big secret?” he asked in return. He pressed further into her, boxing her completely with his body. When she wasn’t in those sexy as fuck heels, he towered over her petite height. Putting his lips against her ear, he repeated his question in a clipped, demanding baritone. “Who. Hurt. You?”
“I… I did.” Her voice was little more than a gasp, that husky tone going straight to his dick. No doubt she could feel it too, as closely pressed as they were. It hadn’t passedhisnotice that her fingers were still looped around his belt. “I fell out of bed.”
Ghost’s jaw ticked, somewhat with amusement. Not what he had expected. He didn’t have to murder anyone but her fucking floor. And yet… “If you’d been in bed with me, Rebel, I’d havebeen holding you so tight, there’d have been no chance of you falling out.”
Becks’ audible gaspdidmake him chuckle. Putting his lips gently, almost reverently, against the bandage on her temple, he held her tightly for one more solid second.
Then he stepped away.
She looked ravaging. Like an offering in those little shorts and that fucking tank top. So incredible, it physically hurt that he wasn’t already inside her. Kicking the shards of ceramic out of the way of her bare feet, he tsked his tongue and nodded to the back door that led into Loretta’s kitchen.
“Get inside,” he ordered tersely.
She ran.
With no other option,Ghost headed down the back porch steps and into the shadows of the fenced-in backyard. It wasn’t overly big, not like the massive ones at the VDMC property. Ghost’s house shared a large communal backyard with four other houses, allowing all the club kids to share the playground set and have easy access to each other’s homes. At the moment, Ghost was the only house in the Pentagon that didn’t have kids.
Facing the fence, he dropped trou. His pulsing erection ached, a completely different pain than the one he’d experienced just that morning when Becks’ knee had collided with his balls. That woman was going to be the death of him.
It was pathetically embarrassing how little time it took him to climax. Three, maybe four, strokes. But her scent was all over him, and Christ, he could still feel the softness of her skin against his. And that look in her eyes when she realizedhewas the one who pressed her up against the house?
Ghost turned his head, biting into his forearm to stifle the groan he let loose as a second wave hit him. He was nearly thirty-eight fucking years old, and some twenty-something had him coming like a teen with his first porno.
He leaned his head forward onto the rough wood of the unfinished fence. In the shadows, he hoped no one could see him, but who knew these days who had night vision security cameras that were currently getting a close up of his ass. He didn’t much care. Honestly, getting arrested for indecent exposure and lewd behavior would be the icing on the fucked-up cake that was this vacation.
