Steel and Heat (Blacksteel Bandits Motorcycle Club Book 2) (9 page)

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His terror slammed to a stop as rope creaked beneath his body. Air momentarily whooshed from his lungs, leaving him gasping. His head snapped around, looking for Jack. The man was about a yard from him, with the same wide-eyed, air-gulping expression. Despite their breathlessness, they shared an ecstatic smile through the night.

“Don't dally, guys!” Naomi hissed from her hiding spot beneath an outcropping. Behind her, darkness stretched in the man-made tunnel. Thankfully, the movie crew hadn't filled it in before leaving. Overhead, the sounds of motorcycles roared closer.

Jack and Tyler struggled to get footholds and grips on the rope netting. It swung precariously underneath their feet. Somewhere below, their stomachs joined the burning wreckage of their bikes, washed away by the strong currents. They finally managed to crawl, despite the jostling net, to the outcropping. Together, they threw themselves onto the rock. They landed with grunts just as the first voices drifted down from overhead.

“Mighty long way down.” A rock bounced down the side of the cliff, either kicked or carelessly tossed.

Someone gave a low whistle. “They couldn't survive that.”

Silently, Tyler and Jack crawled closer to Miranda and Naomi, respectively. Naomi threw herself into Jack's arm, burrowing her face into his chest. Quiet whispers exchanged between them, private and nearly silent. Miranda averted her gaze, feeling as if she were spying on something extremely personal.

Yet another voice drifted down from the upper level, “No way, no how.”

“Guess we should report back to Pete,” Lloyd muttered, with an award-winning begrudging sigh. His footsteps crunched away from the side of the cliff.

Mike Franklin's voice echoed out through the air, “Wait, what's that?”

Miranda tensed. Had they spotted the black netting? She thought in the darkness it would have been nearly impossible to see. Even if someone caught sight of it, they could dismiss it as branches from the scrawny shrubbery that dotted the cliff face. Beside her, Tyler wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

She relaxed. Even if Mike spotted the net, there were no bodies to confirm his suspicions. Besides, they were perfectly hidden in the tunnel. She and Naomi had checked when it was day out.

The plan was foolproof, but it wasn't going to garner freedom. Tyler still had to prove Pete's guilt. That was the price of Lloyd's help. This ploy only bought him some time.

“Does anyone have a flashlight?”

The four of them froze in their tunnel. If someone spotted the net, if someone climbed down and spotted the tunnel, it was all over. Miranda glanced to the netting. It was unlikely Franklin would leave if he had suspicions. They couldn't undo the net without climbing out onto the outcroppings. She should know; she had secured the net earlier that day.

When silence met Franklin's inquiry, he snapped, “What,
none
of you have a flashlight on your person?”

“I-I got one. On my chopper.” A softer voice muttered. Miranda strained to hear the words.

“Well, then go get it,” snapped Mike, a sneer evident in his tone.

A heavy hand fell on Miranda's shoulder and she jolted. Her gaze turned to Tyler and, with her darkness-adjusted sight, she caught his nod to the tunnel. They had to beat a hasty retreat. Miranda swallowed and nodded. Naomi and Jack were already silently picking their way down into the darkness.

The four of them quietly trudged along the tunnel. None spoke as their ears strained for any indication of being followed. After spotting the net, Tyler could only imagine the conversation that followed. Perhaps Lloyd would tell Mike he was paranoid. No one was in the net, so obviously the two missed their mark. He had a feeling Mike wouldn't be settled until some poor sap climbed down. Depending on who climbed, they might be in the clear. All it took was a convincing lie and they were safe. For now.

Halfway down the tunnel, a couple newly-bought electric lanterns were set up and alight. Miranda and Naomi picked them up, squinting in the light. They waited in the bright light, their ears still perked for any sounds that indicated being followed. After a beat, they moved on along the tunnel.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Everyone remained silent the whole ride to the cabin. Not even the radio sputtered. It was the darkest midnight when the four finally made their way home. The moon hung heavily in the sky and, without light pollution, thousands of stars sparkled in the velvety night. When wrapped in the shadows of the forest, Tyler felt a little more at ease.

When the cabin came into view, a collective sigh of relief heaved from four mouths. They were home free now. Still, the apprehensive silence clung around them as they parked and cut the engine. There was an innate sense of carefulness as they climbed from the car and gently shut the doors. Together, they shuffled to the door, ears still piqued against any strange sounds.

It wasn't until they passed over the threshold and shut the door behind them did the tension ooze from their thoughts. Through the windows, the moonlight tried to filter in through the cheap curtains. Miranda gently lowered her electric lantern to the nearest table and lit it up, casting the room in a gentle glow.

“Man, I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed,” exclaimed Naomi as soon as they stepped into the cabin. She stretched her arms over her head and let loose a yawn. She turned her gaze to Jack, something sultry glinting under her blueness. “Coming?”

The man nodded and padded after the blonde like a puppy. Tyler and Miranda watched the two disappear down the hallway. Awkwardness settled over Miranda's thoughts. A strange sense of relief and frustration wafted through her head. They had pulled off the scheme with little issue, but Tyler's call to Lloyd filtered through the delight. Her stomach roiled with outrage and uncertainty. Did she waste her time and compromise her job, for nothing?

Tyler's words interrupted her pitiable thoughts. “You sure you want to help me?”

Miranda blinked, turning her gaze to him. Her brows furrowed as the scales in her mind bobbed and bounced. Even if Tyler were using her, Miranda wanted to help him – if only for what they shared in the past, though the thought of the man using her didn't settle well in her heart. She licked her lips and, with conviction, stated, “Yes.”

“Mir, you and Naomi could leave and be safe.” Tyler edged closer to her. Her body heat still kissed and tingled along his arm from when he pulled her close in the tunnel. It was a mistake, though. He shouldn't have touched her. It made his resolve to do the right thing weaken under desire.

Her eyebrows dipped, angrily. Was he really trying to push her away? Did she already serve her purpose to him? Her frown deepened at the very thought, but she wasn't going to let him shove her away so easily. She'd be forever plagued by whether or not he survived. “Don't try to talk me out of this, Tyler.”

“It's too dangerous,” Tyler growled. He tried to swallow his ire. Why didn't she know what was best for her? Why did she always put aside her health, her life, for him? This was the reason her family spoke to him. She was too nice to realize, or do, what was bet for herself. He had to mask it in a way that would benefit another. “Take Naomi and go. Jack and I can handle this.”

“Like you've done a great job of doing so far,” snorted Miranda, her words thick with derision as she crossed her arms.

Volatile anger flared through his thoughts. “Hey!”

“No, you listen to me, Tyler Ferguson!” Miranda closed the distance between them. Heat crackled in the buffer of air, not altogether from anger. She jerked her hand in front of him, her index finger prodded in at his chest. “You waltzed back into my life after ten years and brought this shit down on me. I've made my decision!”

“It's the wrong one!” Prickles raced over his chest and his heart thrummed in his chest. The inexplicable urge to grab her, hug her close, touch her boiled up in his thoughts. Instead, he curled his hands into fists and did his best to restrain himself. He couldn't give in. As soon as he did, Miranda's life was put into danger. He struggled against the fluttering, mixed feelings that filled his head.

“Who says?” Miranda challenged, her green eyes sparking. Tyler swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbed enticingly. She took another step forward, a mere foot separating her and Tyler. Pain echoed through her thoughts, old and crackly. But it still hurt, still bit at the back of her eyes and tempted tears to fall. The edge softened in her voice as she murmured, “I missed giving my two cents last time. Do not deny me this time, Tyler.”

Guilt slammed into him. Yet another reason why he wasn't good for her. It didn't matter how many times he left, how many times he made her suffer, he wanted to be with her. He was a cad, an absolute cad. Miranda deserved better. He hung his head, jaw clenched and frown tilting his lips downward.

Miranda's thoughts couldn't be farther from Tyler's own. Her job, her family, her life didn't matter. A realization punctured the back of her thoughts. Perhaps, though, it wasn't so much a realization. It was a confession to herself. Despite the years, despite the times he left her, the warm feelings in her heart still expanded at the thought of him. The feelings she had signed off as infatuation after her family – unwittingly to her – forced him to leave. Her fingers trembled as the thought repeated in her head and sunk into her bones.

A sudden pressure tangled up his shirt. He glanced down, realizing Miranda held the fabric of his shirt in her hand. She glared up at him, eyes bright and shiny. Her lips quivered, uncertain how to poise themselves. His heart sputtered. She had the look in her eyes. He swallowed, remembering how much he loved that look. He'd be hard-pressed to describe it in words, but the feeling throbbed through the air.

The repeated mantra, the words that coiled around her thoughts, finally weaved their way out her lips, “I love you, Tyler Ferguson, and I have for long, long time.”

Heat flared through him. Delight, passion, desire burned away all uncertainties. His hand grabbed her by her face and he stooped down. Their lips came together and Miranda gasped into his mouth. Heat poured from his body and curled around his muscles.

Maybe it was relief to be alive. Maybe he had waited, so long, to hear those words, again. Everything just crashed out of him and his body went into autopilot.

Miranda wasn't complaining. His fervent actions, his silent and desperate pleas to touch her, made tingles rush down her spine. Her arms found their way around the back of his neck. The warm tension from before snapped and crackled and fizzed. Goosebumps raced up and down her flesh, punctured by prickly pleasure.

Suddenly, the floor wasn't under her feet any longer. Tyler hoisted her up and her legs curled around his torso. His hands gripping her ass, he stalked down the hall. His feet followed the known path to her room, leaving the lantern behind.

They spilled into the room, kicking the door shut behind them. Tyler staggered over to the bed, dropping her to the freshly beaten comforter. The bed squeaked as her body settled atop the mattress.

The moonlight spilled into her room, powering passed the curtains. She writhed along the bed, wiggling out of her shirt, her shoes, her pants, her undergarments. Tyler followed her lead. He shrugged off his kutte, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. He hauled the shirt over his head, kicked off his boots, and undid his pants. As the last article whispered to the floor, he paused only long enough to admire Miranda. She lounged on the bed, bathed in moonlight that determinedly pierced the curtains. Her body nearly glowed in the light. His heart shuddered and blood pumped to his cock.

Miranda shifted and parted her legs. The moonlight kissed across her exposed, moist lower lips. He could feel himself getting harder.

He lowered himself to the bed, his cock grazing right against her pussy as he positioned himself. Miranda's pliable, soft body coiled around him. Her arms tugged around his shoulders and her legs flanked his torso. He couldn't even think. Hormones and pleasure swarmed his mind, strangling all other thoughts into submission.

She pulled him down and raised herself up, their lips crashing together. She whimpered into his mouth, rollicking her hips. Her wet lips kissed his cock, sliding up and down the shaft of his throbbing member. Her whimper went to his bones, lighting his blood on fire.

His cock nudged between her lips, against her slit. Rocking his hips, he enjoyed her whimpers of frustration as he teased her. The head of his erection inched farther into her before pulling abruptly back. Miranda whined, arching her back and gyrating her hips in an attempt to catch his excited dick. She rolled her hips just right, or maybe his traitorous cock twitched and landed itself in a fortuitous position. Before Tyler realized, her pussy sucked his cock in, pulsing along the length of his shaft. Moist heat and pressure clenched around him, rippling along him.

A moan tore from his lips and echoed against Miranda's. The reverberations sunk into her body, tickling her bones and making her core curl with pleasure. Tyler thrust in and out of her, the friction making her whole body flame. Her nails dug into his shoulders as her knees clamped to his sides. Something different writhed through her thoughts. Freedom, after her confession, tainted every action with an added dollop of pleasure. She arched and curled and writhed as fresh tingles and prickles teased along her nerves. She clenched her eyes shut, enjoying the bursts of satisfaction that laved her body.

Already, the waves of pleasure were cresting. Perhaps the adrenaline from the plan pushed her or maybe the relief of her confession made everything ten times stronger. Whatever the reason, delight swept her body up, tangled her nerves, and pushed a gasping moan from her lips. She clung to Tyler as he pumped in and out, harder and faster, and she rode her orgasm. Her body trembled and heaved beneath him, her fingers and toes curling.

Tyler's fingers coiled into the blanket beneath Miranda's head. He dug deep as his cock plunged even more. He wanted every inch of her to know him, to accept him, to be marked by him. His mouth drifted from her lips, buried in the crook of her neck. Without the kiss, her moans freely filled the air and clawed down his spine. He loved it when she didn't swallow her pleasure.

His teeth nipped along her neck, feeling her pulse pounding against her throat. A primal sense of carnality tinged his thoughts. He kissed and sucked and bit at her flesh, eliciting even louder moans. He slammed himself into her, harder and harder at the prompting of her body, her sounds, her unintelligible pleas. The bed creaked under them, scraping against the floor as the whole frame shuddered under their activity.

Another orgasm barreled through Miranda. Her body jolted and her nails raked across his back, drawing blood. Her gasping, moaning cry filled Tyler's ears. He wanted more. Without warning, he nudged her legs up, shifting them over his shoulders. Her hands drifted from his back and she resorted to savaging the blanket beneath her. Her toes flexed and her thighs tightened, her core trembling as his cock slammed in and out of her.

Tyler's own groans found their way to Miranda's ears, despite her passionate, head-tossing mewls. The sound sent a fire to her lower tummy. Her lungs burned from overexertion, sweat kissed every inch of her flesh and, between her legs, her wetness spread against her thighs. The position, with her legs over his shoulders, only intensified the whole experience. Her walls tightened around him and the angle allowed him deeper access. Her moans mounted as, with every passing thrust, it felt like Tyler drove harder, farther into her center.

Likewise, Tyler had never felt so much heat, so much wetness, from a lover. It spurred him on and the only thing keeping him on the edge was himself. Pleasure burned at his balls and his cock pulsated with need. He wanted to come. He wanted to release it all into her. But he also wanted her a writhing, wet puddle of afterglow and orgasm. He wanted to give her the best she'd ever have.

Heat and pressure knotted in Miranda and a third orgasm loomed before her thoughts. Her whole body trembled from toes to pussy to fingers. Every nerve quivered, as if sensing the onslaught. She gasped for breath. The air in the room had turned hot and humid thanks to them. Faintly, she wondered how he could hold out so long.

She cracked her eyes open, catching Tyler's face in a shaft of moonlight. Her heart sputtered, his eyes dark with passion and sweat trickling down his temple teased overused pleasure receptors. The tingle shot down her spine and cleaved through her pussy. Her sex trembled severely around Tyler's shaft, muscles working along his erection.

Tyler's moans and groans took on a rough, raspy edge. He gasped, trying to keep control on his side. Miranda, despite the difficulty of the position, squirmed and wriggled her hips. His cock grazed the sides of her pussy, taunting her pulsing, soft skin. He gasped and closed his eyes, his rhythm slowing down drastically as he forced himself to regain control.