Ruined Page 6

  I remembered that look. The first day I met him, after I’d watched him do tricks for a solid half-hour, he handed me his skateboard and dared me to try it. There had been many times after that when he’d pushed me to do something I didn’t want to do or was scared of. Skateboarding. Riding his motorcycle. Drinking bourbon neat. Going to the school dance. Telling my mother she had to quit heroin or else I’d move out. Applying for law school. Leaving Justin...

  Some of those things I’d ended up failing at, and some of them were among the best experiences of my life. But this challenge—this was different. This felt like it could threaten the very fabric of our friendship.

  Seriously? You’re acting like this is real and it’s not. It’s just pretend.

  I drew in a shaky breath. Yeah, of course. Pretend. Which meant the way he was looking at me was pretend, too. He didn’t really want me—just like I didn’t really want him. Nothing would be threatened because we wouldn’t actually be together. We’d just have to make it look like we were. And that was fine. I could do that.

  Smoke wasn’t wrong. No matter how much I didn’t want to go anywhere near the Knights, this did seem to be our only option to protect Annie.

  Plus, after what I said to him, I owed him.

  ‘Okay.’ I took a step away from the wall, getting closer to him. ‘Show me, then.’

  My voice sounded shaky and I couldn’t seem to get my heart rate under control.

  It was just Smoke. Only Smoke.

  He stared down at me and I was suddenly aware of the height difference between us—something I’d only been vaguely aware of before. But it hit me now how much taller he was. How much broader. How much more powerful and muscular.

  I wanted to make a joke about his workout regimen, yet I’d never felt less like laughing in my entire life.

  ‘You’ll have to come closer than that.’

  His voice was quiet, with a dark, husky quality to it which was another thing I’d never noticed before.

  I was looking at him like he was some stranger, but he wasn’t. He was my friend.

  I took another step towards him, trying to ignore my frantic heartbeat.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said.

  We were only inches apart now, and I could feel the heat of his body from where I stood. He was like the engine of his bike, running hot, and it was difficult to hold his gaze. The darkness of it was like a black lake I could fall into, drown in.

  ‘So,’ I said inanely, on edge and hyperaware, as if the slightest sound or sudden movement would cause me to jump sky-high. ‘Are you going to?’

  Smoke reached out and slid his arm around my waist, pulling me right up against his body. And everything I’d been going to say went straight out of my head.

  I couldn’t get enough air to breathe because he was hot. And hard. Everywhere. The arm around me was an iron band, holding me firmly where I was, and instinctively, I put up my hands and pressed my palms to the wall of his chest, trying to keep some distance between us.

  But there was no distance to be had.

  He was right there, up against every inch of me—my thighs, my hips, my stomach, my breasts. So fucking hot. So fucking hard. I could feel the flex and release of his muscles beneath my palms and I couldn’t repress the shiver that went straight down my spine. The shiver of deep female appreciation for male strength. Insane when, after Justin, I knew what male strength could do to a woman.

  I felt it, though. It made my mouth dry with want.

  I was trembling and I couldn’t stop. I felt like I was being slowly stripped down, taken apart like a gun or an engine, and all my pieces laid out so he could see how I was put together.

  Don’t be stupid. Pretend, remember?

  Yeah. That’s right. Pretend. Get a grip, Cat. Get a fucking grip.

  I tilted my head back and looked up at him, because if this was a challenge, then I wanted to show him I could do it. I always wanted to show him I could do it.

  The light behind him threw his face into shadow, but I could see his expression. It was taut, fierce, his gaze focusing on me with frightening intensity.

  My heartbeat refused to slow down.

  He lifted his other hand and, with careful deliberation, slid his fingers into my hair so they curved around my skull, cupping the back of my head in his palm. Then he curled his fingers up tight and I sucked in a startled breath as my hair was caught in his fist.

  It didn’t hurt, but I realised with a sudden crashing awareness that he was now holding me fast. That I couldn’t pull away even if I wanted to.

  And that he was going to kiss me.

  ‘Smoke—’ I began, to stop him...encourage him... I had no idea. I never got the chance.

  His mouth was on mine before I knew what was happening.

  I froze in shock, going rigid, my mind utterly blank.

  Then heat erupted along the entire length of my body. So much heat. It was like one of those arc welders applied directly to my skin, lighting me up from the inside out.

  Frightened for reasons I didn’t understand, I pushed against his chest, wanting to get away, to put distance between us, between me and that all-consuming, terrifying heat.

  But he didn’t let me go. In fact the arm around my waist only tightened further, leaving me in no doubt about who was in charge of this. He was. In every way.

  I shivered, feeling small and feminine, vulnerable and utterly at his mercy. Panic shifted inside me and something else—something that wasn’t panic at all. Something that I very much feared was...excitement.

  Then, before I could work out what the tangle of feelings were, slowly and deliberately Smoke continued to kiss me.

  His lips were both hard and soft at the same time, brushing mine, a gentle tease. Then he ran his tongue along the seam of my lips, encouraging me to open and let him in.

  I did and, oh, God, I tasted him. Raw, alcoholic, with a touch of sweetness like the kick of a really good bourbon. It made me tremble. Then his tongue slid into my mouth, exploring me, and I trembled even harder.

  It had been so long since anyone had touched me like this, held me like this. So long since I’d been kissed. And now my best friend was kissing me and it felt like...

  Jesus, it felt like a piece of a puzzle had clicked into place.

  So wrong. This is your friend. This is pretend.

  I tried to open my mouth to speak, to remind him or something—I didn’t know. But he wouldn’t let me do that either.

  His fingers in my hair pulled tighter, urging my head further back, and his tongue pushed deeper into my mouth, the kiss turning hotter, wetter. More demanding. Taking all my words away and giving me heat and that sweet kick of bourbon instead, the raw, addictive taste of him.

  My heartbeat was raging and I felt dizzy. Like I was drunk. On him. On this kiss. His heat was blinding and he was everywhere—his rock-hard chest against my aching breasts, his arms around me, holding me tight against him. His mouth was on mine, tasting me as I was tasting him. Kissing me as if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted to eat me alive.

  But, no. He couldn’t want that. This was pretend, remember?

  Yet my fingers curled into the warm cotton of his T-shirt, gripping on for dear life, and it was hard to hold on to that thought. He knew what he was doing and it was so good.

  I couldn’t help myself. I began to respond. Blindly touching his tongue with mine, kissing him back, hungry for more of that terrifying heat. More of that kiss.

  More of him.

  My nipples hardened against his chest and there was a heavy, pulsing ache between my legs. My skin felt tight, like I wanted to burst right out of it.

  Smoke growled—a low animal sound that vibrated through me—then he slid one large warm hand over the curve of my butt, pulling me harder against him. I nearly gasped as I felt the hard ridge of his cock
press against the zipper of my jeans, causing jolts of intense pleasure as the zipper hit my clit.

  I groaned, shifting my hips against his, helplessly chasing that friction. I felt like I’d been starved and he was tempting me with all my favourite foods, holding them out to me, giving me a taste, making me so fucking hungry...

  Then suddenly his arms around me were gone; that hot, demanding mouth vanished, and I was stumbling forward, off balance, breathing fast and hard like I’d run ten marathons in a row.

  I blinked, somehow finding my feet, trying like hell to get my breathing under control.

  Smoke had pulled back and was standing there with his arms folded. The expression on his face was unreadable. He was watching me with a detached kind of focus. As if that whole kiss had merely been an experiment he wanted to see the effects of.

  He hadn’t felt it like I had, obviously.

  Something fell away inside me—something that I refused to call disappointment. Because there was nothing disappointing about him not feeling that kiss. In fact it was reassuring. Clearly the intensity of it had been all in my head—a product of going too long without sex and nothing to do with chemistry at all.

  Anyway, it made sense that he didn’t feel it. Because he’d been pretending, too.

  Sure, and maybe his cock had been pretending, as well.

  Yeah, but guys got hard at the drop of a hat, didn’t they? It wasn’t me. It was merely the presence of a female body—that was all.

  I sucked in a steadying breath, hiding my hardened nipples behind my folded arms, mirroring his posture.

  ‘So?’ I couldn’t keep the husky edge from my voice. Dammit. ‘That convincing enough for you?’

  ‘It’ll do.’ His voice, in contrast, sounded completely normal, the asshole.

  My heart raced and the heavy, nagging ache between my legs just wouldn’t let up. Perhaps if I didn’t think about it, it would go away.

  ‘Good. So, how do we do this? I mean, do you simply tell them I’m your old lady and that’s it? What?’

  He hadn’t moved. He was standing there like a statue, all tall and dark and radiating menace, not to mention a fair amount of distance.

  He hadn’t forgiven me for what I’d said to him.

  If you break this friendship, it’ll be your own fault. Don’t forget you pretty much break everything you touch...

  Panic turned over in my gut before I managed to shove the poisonous thought away. No, shit. Wherever that had come from, it was wrong. Sure, there were things in my life that hadn’t gone to plan—but that was life, wasn’t it? Shitty, shitty life.

  I had Annie and I had Smoke—my two constants. I wouldn’t lose my daughter and I wouldn’t break my friendship with Smoke. I just wouldn’t.

  ‘You going to do this, then?’ he asked.

  As if I had a choice.

  ‘For Annie, yeah. I will.’

  He gave a slow nod and I got the feeling that I’d agreed to something I didn’t know anything about.

  Panic gripped me again, but I forced it away. Being Smoke’s pretend old lady... Really, how bad could it be?

  A memory filtered through my consciousness of the night Annie had been taken, when I’d stormed through the Knights’ clubhouse. All those men with all those women, having sex right out there in public, for everyone to see.

  That was pretty bad.

  ‘We...uh...we wouldn’t have to do any...public stuff, would we?’ I hated the quiver in my voice. ‘Because, straight up, I’m not doing that.’

  That distant look was still on Smoke’s face, and it was like he was pulling away from me, even though he hadn’t moved an inch. I wanted to reach out and grab his arm, pull him back.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Even his voice sounded remote. ‘We wouldn’t.’

  ‘Okay, then.’ I hesitated, then realised what I was doing.

  I’d never hesitated in talking to Smoke before. Never, ever.

  My throat closed. Things were different. Something had changed.

  ‘Are we good?’ I had to force myself to say it.

  ‘Sure, kitten. We’re good.’

  But I didn’t miss his own hesitation, and it slid like a sliver of glass under my skin. I opened my mouth to say something, but he’d already turned, jerking his head in the direction of the kerb, where I saw the gleam of chrome in the darkness. His Harley.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you the plan while I take you home.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Smoke

  ‘SERIOUSLY? THAT’S YOUR PLAN?’

  Tiger was stretched out on the couch opposite me, a beer in one hand, a joint in the other, and a woman in his lap. She was taking puffs on his joint and looking bored, obviously waiting until we’d finished talking so she could get on with the more important job of sucking his cock.

  Unfortunately for her, we hadn’t finished talking.

  ‘Yeah, that’s the plan.’ I leaned back in my chair, picking at a hole in the cheap vinyl on the arm of it and trying not to let Tiger’s sarcasm get to me. ‘Something wrong with it?’

  We were in the Knights’ clubhouse, over by the corner near the pool table, where it was quieter and no one would overhear us. I’d just told him how I was going to save both Annie and Cat, and he’d told me what a fucking stupid idea it was.

  ‘Uh...who’s going to believe Cat’s your old lady?’ Tiger shook his head. ‘Everyone knows she’s your friend.’

  ‘And everyone thinks I’m fucking her already.’ Which they did, since to them friendship between a man and a woman was apparently a goddamn unicorn. As in it didn’t exist.

  Tiger lifted his joint in salute. ‘True.’

  ‘So it’s not exactly going to be a surprise.’

  ‘Also true.’ The woman sitting in his lap grabbed at his beer and he gave it to her. ‘Though you taking an old lady might be.’

  He wasn’t wrong about that. I’d never wanted any permanent commitments and hadn’t exactly kept it a big secret. Tiger was the same.

  All I needed was my bike, my club, regular blow jobs and Cat. Sure, it would be great if Cat could provide the blow jobs, but you couldn’t have everything.

  That reminded me of the kiss a couple of nights ago and I shifted in my chair, trying not to think about it since every time I did I got harder than iron.

  I’d been a prick to demand that of her, but I hadn’t been sorry. Still wasn’t. Because if nothing else ever happened between us, at least I’d have that kiss.

  And, Christ, what a fucking kiss. I’d never had anything like it and I probably wouldn’t have anything like it again.

  She’d tasted exactly the way I’d dreamed, except better. Sweet, yet tart, too—like strawberries and really expensive dry champagne. Which was Cat all-up. It was also goddamn delicious and I wanted more.

  Her body had felt soft and hot, and the moment the hard tips of her nipples had pressed against my chest, I’d wanted to eat her alive. Because that right there had been confirmation. She wanted me. She fucking wanted me.

  Then she’d started to kiss me back and I’d nearly lost my mind.

  I’d come this close to simply shoving her against the wall, pulling her jeans down and getting inside her as fast as I damn well could.

  But I’d been good. I’d let her go, put her at a distance and made sure she knew it. Though if she’d tried to make like that kiss hadn’t meant anything, like it was just some pretend shit between friends, I don’t know what I would have done.

  I’d never hurt Cat. But that didn’t mean I was a good guy.

  Anyway, I’d done what I’d intended. I’d put her off balance, shown her what there could be between us. And it was fucking incredible.

  ‘Bro?’ Tiger said, eyeing me. ‘Have you actually been fucking her? ’Cause you’ve got that look on your face that—’
r />   ‘No.’ I cut him off. ‘I’m not.’

  At least not yet. And even if I was, it wasn’t any of his business. It wasn’t anyone’s business except mine and Cat’s.

  ‘Sure, the brothers might be surprised I’m taking an old lady, but they’ll just think we’ve finally acknowledged our feelings for each other or some such bullshit.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess they will.’ Tiger put his hand on the woman’s thigh. ‘What about if Justin goes after the kid? Think Keep’ll definitely protect her?’

  I scowled. ‘He told me he would. He fucking better.’

  ‘He’s got shit going on with the police chief, though. He won’t want to rock that particular boat.’

  He wouldn’t. Fucking politics. It was a necessary evil, though, especially with Keep trying to get us legit. But that came with its own problems. Justin fucking Grant being the main one—though hopefully Cat being mine would make him think twice about coming for Annie.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ Tiger asked without waiting for me to respond. ‘Move her in here? Can’t see that happening, bro. She hates this place.’

  ‘I know.’

  I had my own plan about what I was going to do. Sure, I could make her move in here with me, but the clubhouse was no place for kids. Which left me with only one option.

  ‘Thought I’d move in with her.’

  I hadn’t talked to Cat about it and I wasn’t going to either. No point when she wasn’t going to get a choice. If we wanted it to look real, I was going to have to live with her like a real couple would.

  Tiger laughed. ‘Oh, man, she’s gonna hate that.’

  He and Cat didn’t get on. He thought she was uptight and a control freak, and she thought he was a dick. Neither of them was wrong.

  I shrugged. ‘She’ll have to suck it up.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure she’s going to have to do a lot of sucking.’ He gave another laugh and drained the rest of his beer.

  I said nothing to the stupid joke. Tiger had his demons, and being a tool was all part of his don’t-give-a-fuck deal.