Savage Heart Page 2

  One by one, the buttons popped off, freed of their bonds by the sharp tip. My blouse split open, exposing the dark bra there, and he made a low approving sound. He pressed the metal against my skin, separating my cleavage. The blade was cool against my skin, but he kept the wide side against me, and while I could feel the tip nothing bit into the tender skin. My head grew light and I finally remembered to breathe, but trembled beneath him.

  He didn’t lift the knife from my skin but leaned down so his mouth was beside my head. “You like a little pain with your pleasure?” As if to emphasize his point, he bit the skin between my neck and shoulder hard, and I shuddered. “I want to pound myself inside you until you’re screaming my name. Then we’ll see if I let you come.”

  My body burned at his words, and my head fell back. He took the action as invitation and moved over to suck at the skin of my neck. Moaning, I tangled my hands through his thick hair, squeezing his hips with my knees. His lips travelled down my throat to my breasts, and lifting the blade off my breast he wrenched my blouse open all the way. The remaining buttons flew, pinging off the walls and a nearby old spittoon can that I hoped was only decorative.

  His fingers moved through my hair then he grabbed tight and yanked my head back painfully so I was facing him. “Those beautiful lips would look good around my cock,” he all but purred. The soft touch of his fingertips on my lips contrasting sharply with his iron grip on my hair. “I want to feel the back of your throat, hear you gag as you take all of me.”

  I moaned, feeling a rush of heat from between my legs as Ash ground himself against me. He pushed me back onto the felt table, his hand tugging at my pants, and it never even occurred to me to stop him. If anything, I helped him by lifting myself off the table, squeezing his waist with my knees as his hand slid down to cup my butt.

  He kissed me again, rough and demanding, and I met his need with my own. Pushing me back onto the pool table, he thrust himself between my legs, rubbing against my core. I cried out, my nails raking along the back of his leather vest, lifting my hips to meet his thrusts.

  “God, you’re fucking hot.”

  His hands moved up and under my panties, kneading and spreading the lobes of my ass. Moaning softly, I pushed at his jeans, wanting the damned things off so I could have all of him. I needed him inside me, needed to know if he could keep the sensual promise of his words.

  Outside, there was the sound of raised voices, and a part of me realized how exposed we were. Ash’s grip tightened in my hair, and I moaned right as somebody banged on the door. I squeaked in surprise and fumbled to close my shirt just as another biker burst into the room. Ash released me and stepped back as I jumped off the pool table, fumbling with my shirt. The other man didn’t seem to notice me, however. “Ash, we’ve got a serious problem. Marsh got shot.”

  Beside me, Ash cursed. “What the fuck happened?”

  “It was supposed to be an easy job, man.” The other biker was a bigger man, but he seemed intimidated by Ash’s anger. “Give ‘em the money and go. They double-crossed us, wouldn’t give us the stuff after the exchange, then pulled out guns and opened fire.”

  “Were you followed?”

  “I don’t know. Shit Ash, this was supposed to be an easy deal…”

  “Shut it.” Ash’s eyes flickered briefly on me, then away. “Where’s Marsh?”

  “On his way to the hospital, Doc said he couldn’t fix this. Hoop told me to ride over here and tell you.”

  I squeezed into the corner, trying to keep out of the way and out of sight. The other man didn’t seem to care that I was there. I might have been invisible, except I knew Ash still saw me. Even when he was barking orders at others, I could feel his attention.

  Shootout, some kind of deal gone sour.

  What had I gotten myself into?

  Light poured through the room as the other biker hurried out the back door, leaving Ash and I alone again. We watched each other for a long moment, then he held a hand out to me. “You coming?”

  I stared at him, incredulous, then shook my head. I still couldn’t believe my actions over the last few minutes. I’d come here for a story, not for some back room hookup with a biker gang member, no matter how hot he was. It would have been nice to blame the alcohol but I’d barely had one drink. No, this was all on me, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

  Ash must have seen something on my face because he advanced on me. Suddenly realizing my danger—I was an outsider who’d just witnessed everything—I stumbled backwards, trying to get away. The opposing wall stopped me however and I pressed back against the pool cues as Ash’s hand wrapped around my throat. I put my hands against his chest to keep him away, but there was no stopping him as he pressed forward and swept me up into a scorching kiss.

  I froze for only a second against that sensual onslaught, then melted under his touch. He nipped my lower lip, and then pressed his tongue inside, claiming me as surely as he had earlier. I moaned against his mouth, my hands gripping his vest and pulling him close. His hand pressed against my throat, partially cutting off air and circulation. It left me lightheaded, but I was too caught up in the moment to care.

  He was the one who ended the kiss, and the smile that tipped his lips this time actually reached his eyes. “I’ll see you around, darling,” he murmured, then pushed away from me and disappeared out the door. It swung shut, leaving me alone in the room, and a moment later I heard a vehicle outside pull away.

  I touched my swollen lips, stunned by everything I’d allowed to happen. My search for a story had taken a turn I wasn’t expecting. “You coming?” Ash’s words echoed through my mind. Why on earth would he ask me that? And why was I so tempted to run after him?

  Shaking my head, I stared down at myself. There was no salvaging my shirt, but I managed to tie it under my bra in what I hoped would pass as fashion. At least he hadn’t used the knife on my pants, I thought, picking them up from the floor. I slipped those on and pushed my hair behind my ears. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to the bar and stepped out.

  Immediately, I knew I should have left through the back door. All eyes turned to me, and I could see the various expressions from amusement to disgust on their faces. My cheeks burned as I made my way quickly through the crowd, hurrying to my car. I didn’t even stop in the bathroom to wash up, too eager to leave that place and all those knowing eyes.

  Dammit.

  Chapter Three

  “So, did you find your biker story?”

  I sighed at the familiar voice, and turned around to see my boss Murray standing behind me. His thick brows were drawn down in a perpetual frown, which I’d learned not to take personally. “I may have an in, but I don’t have anything new yet. Give me some time and I'll find you something big.”

  "You've got one week. I have network execs breathing down my neck to make some budget cuts, and your name is up on the chopping block."

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d expected less time to be honest, but a week would hopefully be more than enough.

  “I’m keeping you tied to Janie and Ted,” Murray continued, “make sure they get whatever info they need.”

  I frowned. “Where’s Amy and Roger?” They were the usual assistants who handled things.

  “They were both let go over the weekend. You can take over for them both, they had the easy job.”

  Janie and Ted were the two main news anchors at the station, and any other time being assigned as their go-fer might have felt like a promotion. Both anchors were notorious prima donnas; having to work for one was hard enough, but both at once? I’d never have a moment of freedom. Right now however, my job was on the line and I needed to prove myself invaluable. Being tasked with coffee runs only took away necessary research time of my own.

  “Yes, sir,” I muttered, wishing he’d just leave and let me get back to work. Since taking the Sacramento area newsroom job I'd become disillusioned to a career in TV journalism. The newsroom position had seemed the perfect jo
b for someone right out of college, but the office politics annoyed me. I was rarely given any time for my own stories; usually senior staff tossed me around to do menial tasks. Twice now actual assignments I’d dug up had been given to others, leaving me feeling useless.

  Murray seemed to mistake my look because he clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Look kid, I'll do you a favor. There’s a local sheriff I use sometimes for questions. He's got some tales to tell on these area biker gangs, he might be able to help you flesh out the story.” He handed me a card. “Find me something new and exciting, or start looking for another job."

  “Yes, sir,” I said in a falsely chipper voice, not caring if he heard the sarcasm there. As tempting as it was to just let him fire me, I needed the job. I was only two months shy of my one-year mark, which would look good on my resume. For now, I needed to stay in the Sacramento area, but I couldn’t wait to leave the smaller television station.

  ***

  I exited my car and closed the door, stalking up the steps of my apartment, tired and wanting a shower. The complex was close to the college and most of the tenants were students. I’d had my small place for over two years, before I’d even graduated.

  “Hey, Eve,” a dark haired girl said, passing by me with a large canvas stuck under one arm. She paused when she saw my expression. “Bad day at work again?”

  Alice was an art major who lived right below me on the second floor, and always seemed to have a smile on her face. I waved back but stayed quiet, not wanting to get drawn into conversation. I wasn’t in the mood for any more work tonight. All I wanted to do was change my clothes, take a shower, and try to forget how precarious my life was at the moment.

  The lock turned easily and I swung the door open, tossing my purse onto the nearby couch. Stretching, I took a few steps toward the nearby bathroom when I saw a dark shape moving beside me.

  There wasn’t enough time for me to draw breath for a scream before I was grabbed, and a hand covered my mouth. Panic coursed through me as I tried to fight free, to no avail. Arms wrapped around me, dragging me back against a hard chest.

  “Did you tell anyone what you saw?”

  At Ash’s voice, I stopped fighting, too stunned to move. His hand dropped from my mouth to cover my throat, squeezing softly. “What did they ask you?”

  “I didn’t say anything,” I whispered, and whimpered as his hand tightened.

  “What, it’s not enough of a news story when you almost get fucked by a biker?”

  His whispered words, tone tinged with sarcastic humor, made my blood boil. The man had abandoned me half-naked in a bar, broken into my house, and now was taunting me with my earlier weakness. “Let me go, asshole.”

  His grip only tightened, pinning me back against him. “You swear you said nothing?”

  If he meant to intimidate me, it wasn’t working. Anger was taking care of any fear I might have felt, and I embraced it wholeheartedly. At least this way, I wasn’t paralyzed. I reached up and grabbed his thumb, twisting in and down. His grip on me loosened for a split second, long enough for me to rear back and smash my head blindly back into his face.

  He let me go with a grunt, and I hit the floor running. My kitchen was only a few feet from the entrance, a large pan I could use as a weapon sitting beside the sink. I’d barely gotten three steps however when he grabbed me again and hurled me sideways over back of the loveseat. I hit the back of the small couch belly-first, and before I could push away he was on me again. His hand gripped the back of my neck and bent me low toward the cushions, his legs pinning my lower body against the back of the chair.

  “The lady can fight back,” he murmured, twisting one flailing arm behind my back. “I like that.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Just to know what you’ve told anyone else.”

  There was a lot I didn’t understand about their culture, but I’d still read up on outlaw motorcycle clubs. I knew the consequences of being labeled a snitch, and Ash was the club’s lead enforcer. If he thought I’d told anyone what I’d seen and heard, I was as good as dead. “I told you, I didn’t say anything,” I said again, fear bleeding through the earlier anger. “I swear.”

  “I believe you.”

  I tried to turn my head and face him, confused, but only managed to get my cheek on the couch. “Then let me go!”

  The large biker shifted behind me, kicking my legs apart with his booted feet, and settled between them. “Nah, I’m having too much fun like this.”

  He was getting off on this! Bastard! I squirmed, trying to free myself, but stopped when I felt the growing bulge in his jeans. He let go of my arm, his free hand smoothed over my backside, and when his fingers tickled my hipbones I realized he was going through my pockets. “Hey!”

  “‘Detective Warren Sharpe, Gang Unit,” he read aloud, and I stilled as I recognized the name from the card Murray had given me.

  “My boss gave me his name and contact information to learn more for a story,” I said quickly. “I haven’t talked to anyone, I swear.”

  “I said,” he murmured, leaning down over me, “I believe you.” His hand snaked around to the front of my hips, beneath the waistband of my pants. His fingers skimmed over my panties, and I jerked, trying and failing to close my legs. “You’re already wet.”

  My breathing came in pants as, still not releasing his grip on the back of my neck, he unsnapped my pants and pulled them down off my hips. Trembling in his grasp, I dug my face into the material of the couch as he began massaging my clit and opening through my panties. When one finger slid beneath the leg band and pressed inside me, my body jolted as if zapped by electricity.

  He growled, shoving me further up onto the couch so that I lifted up from the floor onto my tiptoes. My pants fell to the floor, pooling around my feet, as his fingers continued their onslaught. My treacherous body hummed, desperate for more, and when he removed the hand from my neck I didn’t move. He pulled my underwear free of my hips, letting them dangle around my knees. I heard his pleased grunt as he knelt behind me.

  “You have a beautiful pussy,” he murmured, gliding rough fingers against the tender folds. “I’d like to see how it tastes.”

  That was my only warning before he grabbed my ankles, picked my feet up and over his shoulders, and set his mouth onto my aching core. I cried out, nails scrabbling over the cushions. He allowed me no escape, holding me in place while his tongue wrung out pleasure from my treasonous body. There was no stopping the orgasm that swept over me, and my wails rang out through the small apartment.

  “If I fucked you now, filled you until you were overflowing, you wouldn’t tell me no, would you?”

  His words stopped me cold. He was right, and horror filled me at my actions. I pushed at the couch, trying to wiggle free. I was afraid he wouldn’t move, or worse keep going, but he stepped back, lifting me off the couch and settling me to my feet. His touch was almost gentle, despite the rough handling he’d given me when I’d entered, but I still stepped well away from him.

  “What do you want?” I asked breathlessly as he looked around my apartment.

  He gave me a grin. “Maybe I just wanted to see you again.”

  I just snorted, and he chuckled. Ash was next to the mantle of my fireplace, and as I moved into the room he picked up a picture. “Your family?”

  I nodded. “My grandparents actually. They were who raised me.” I nervously picked up plates and cups scattered around the small dining area and kitchen into the sink. I wasn’t used to having people in my apartment, especially without my permission. While I’d never been the domestic sort, I needed something to do right then. Having him in here made me nervous, as did how quickly I’d reacted to his touch.

  “How did you know I wasn’t lying?” I finally asked as he finished his circuit of my small living room. He still held the photo of my grandparents, and I wondered if he was going to take it.

  “I’ve dealt with folks much harder than you,” he replied, still not looking at
me. “I can always tell a liar.” Sliding past me with barely a glance, he moved into my bedroom.

  “And if I’d actually said something to the cops?”

  He poked his head out my door. “Neither of us would have liked the outcome to that.”

  I shuddered, suddenly not wanting to ask any more questions. Ash exited my room and headed for the door, and I felt a tiny sliver of disappointment pierce my heart. As much as it pained me to admit it, I’d been hoping to see him again. Maybe not like this, with him breaking into my apartment, but I found myself wanting him to stay.

  He opened the door and stepped outside, disappearing around the corner but leaving the door wide open. I glared at the open doorway.

  What was he born in, a barn?

  My grandma’s voice rang through my head; it was what she’d always said if I left the door open. Ignoring the entrance, I set myself to work in the kitchen even as my chest squeezed painfully. I had nothing that would attract a man like that. For all I knew, he’d visited me for a booty call, and it stung my pride how easily I’d almost fallen into that trap. I’d narrowly escaped getting caught up in his world the last time.

  Yet here I was, pining after him.

  Ash stuck his head around the door jam, startling me. “You coming?”

  I stared at him, the words echoing anew in my head. The last time he’d made the offer, I’d held back and lost out on my story. But it was more than just a job urging me forward this time, and I swallowed.

  “Yeah. I’m coming.”

  Chapter Four

  I stared at the large Harley Davidson backed into the parking spot, a little uncertain what to do next. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take my car?” I asked hesitantly.

  Ash thrust a small helmet into my hands. “Put this on and get on.”

  He made it sound as if I didn’t have a say in the matter. I had no doubt that if I didn’t get on soon, he would ride away without me, but still I held back. The helmet looked to be about my size, but there were a couple strands of bleached blonde hair caught up in the straps. Wonder what happened to the last girl who wore this, I thought but decided not to ask, putting the helmet atop my head and clasping the loop under my chin.