Warrant (Righteous Outlaws #1) (9 page)

I
couldn’t even tell
you the last time I had a burger. It was so damn good. I was always concerned with looking a certain way, and not wanting to hear my mother’s judgment if my ass got too fat. I savored every greasy bite, and washed it down with a second glass of wine that my mother would frown upon. No respectable girl had more than one drink before five o’clock. But I was sick of being her puppet. Sick of her making decisions for me. Hell, I would order a third glass if I wasn’t already tipsy from the others.

The waitress took away my plate, and I almost waved goodbye to the greasy goodness. As soon as she turned her back to us, Cash’s big hand landed on my inner thigh. Heat shot to my core, and I licked my lips thinking of earlier and how he slipped his fingers beneath my panties without a care in the world.

He inched ever so slowly up my goosebump-ridden skin, and I sucked in a ragged breath. I should’ve stopped him. Told him that earlier he had crossed a line and he was doing it again, but the warmth of his hand felt so good on my bare skin. I didn’t care that we were in public, surrounded by people. My head was fogged by reminders of how his fingers made me feel. How one swipe could send me into delicious convulsions, and how desperately I wanted him.

Just as I was about to ease my legs open to him, he pulled his hand away, turning my want into need. “Ready?” he asked and slid out of the booth, leaving me completely speechless.

He leaned down to me, his lips just a whisper shy of mine. “Think of the prize at the end of the day, and how much more it’ll mean when you finally get it,” he said, using my own words against me.

“You’re evil,” I said as I got to my feet.

The corner of his lip tugged slightly. “Just playing the game you started. And, just so you know, I am very competitive.”

I didn’t know if he realized, but that was the first thing he told me about himself. Maybe that meant he was warming up to me and because of that he was willing to share a little more. Or maybe I was over analyzing it and it had nothing to do with anything other than him wanting to get back in my panties. He wasn’t easy to figure out, so I didn’t know his angle, but I figured I couldn’t go wrong with flirting.

I rested my hand on his hard chest, and looked up into those gorgeous green eyes. “Good,” I breathed. “Because I like a challenge.” I strutted away, pretty darn proud of my flirting skills.

I had known William since I was twelve, so there was no need for flirting. Our parents pretty much had been planning our wedding after our first kiss at sixteen. It would be at the country club, naturally, and I would wear a white satin sweetheart gown with a Marchesa crystal embroidered belt. My hair would be pinned back because it was elegant and showed off my beautifully elongated neck. I tried not to gag as my mother’s voice ran through my head. She was still pissed at me that I turned down William’s proposal, and we weren’t on speaking terms at the moment. Which was fine by me. I was enjoying the peace and quiet.

When I got to Cash’s bike, I stopped and spun toward him. He strolled up to me with easy confidence a freshly lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

My phone buzzed in my bag, and I retrieved it. Amaya’s name flashed across the screen. I had countless text messages from both her and William. I totally ditched them back there, and didn’t even let them know.

They were probably worried about me and afraid something happened. I waited until the call ended, and then sent a quick text, assuring my best friend I was okay and that I had to take care of something. After telling her I’d fill her in later, I shoved my phone back into my bag.

“Everything okay?” Cash asked, taking one last drag off his cigarette before flicking to the street.

My knees became weak at the sparkle in his green eyes. “Everything is fine. So, where are we going?” I asked.

“Wherever the road takes us,” he said, as he placed the helmet on my head and tightened the strap beneath my chin. His finger skimmed my skin, and excitement shot through me.

Being with him was against everything my parents wanted for me. It was stupid. It was reckless, and I might have officially lost my mind. But I didn’t care. My addiction was back full-fledged, and I would do anything and go anywhere to satisfy my craving.

“Hop on,” he commanded, and I did as he asked without a moment hesitation. . I kicked my leg over the thick seat, and wrapped my body snug against Cash. The scent of tobacco was strong, mixing with the warm masculine scent of leather and spice. I inhaled it deeply, burning it to my memory.

The engine revved, and the bike roared to life, as Cash whizzed out into the traffic. He drove faster than I was used to, and I held on tight, digging my fingers into his sides, and pulling my body flush against his.

The sun began its descent into the horizon, as the sky turned grey and a light rain began to fall. The droplets were cold against my skin, and a shiver ran through my body as the wind whipped through us.

Cash dodged in and out of cars, disregarding all traffic laws. I felt like we were in a game, or a movie, and not real life. Eventually, the buildings became more widespread and the industrial landscape changes to residential houses and parks.

I saw a sign for Black Hills, and remembered the patch on his leather vest that said exactly that. He was bringing me home, and I didn’t know if I should feel honored or if I was just another notch on his bedpost.

The bike slowed as Cash made a right into a driveway. The house was small, but quaint, with green shudders and tan vinyl siding. There was a small wraparound porch that stopped just short of a two-car garage.

Cash got off the bike, and held his hand out to me. I took it and let him help me off. “Watch your step. The driveway is a little uneven here,” he said, pointing down to a crack in the cement. “Wouldn’t want you to get your heel caught in it.”

“Thanks,” I said, and looked to the house. “So, is this your place?”

“Nah. I thought I’d pick a random house with no cars in the driveway, and see if I could break in without being caught,” he said and my heart stopped. Suddenly, I was looking around the area to make sure no one was outside and able to see us. Cash laughed. “Kidding.”

“Oh. I knew that,” I said, feeling a bit stupid, but pretending like I wasn’t.

“You should have seen your face.”

“I’m sure it was hilarious,” I finally said.

“It was, but just so you know. I wouldn’t drag you into my shit. I wouldn’t want to taint your clean record,” he said, walking toward the house.

I caught up to him, my heels clicking loudly on the concrete path. “How do you know my record is clean?” I asked. Granted it was, not even a single speeding ticket, but he didn’t know that.

“I would bet my life your record is as clean as the white panties you’re wearing now,” he said, sticking a key into the door and then pushing inside.

I followed him inside. “Wait a minute. How do you know my panties are white?” I demanded. He might have had his hands under my dress in the restaurant, but he didn’t see them, so why would he assume they were white?

He came up beside me and lifted the hem of my skirt, revealing the white cotton boy shorts that I was wearing. “Like I said, white panties.”

“I do own other color underwear, you know. It just happens that, every time you see them, it’s because I’m wearing a dress and want full coverage.”

“Why don’t you just go without any?”

I gasped. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to pull a Paris Hilton.”

“A who?” he asked, and I realized that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Paris Hilton might not have been relevant in the news as much as she was a decade ago, but who didn’t know who she was?

“The socialite? The heir to the hotel chain? How do you not know who she is?”

He shook his head, his eyes unamused. “And she’s relevant because…?”

“Well she’s not. But she’s famous for not wearing underwear and getting her bits plastered across the tabloids every time she got out of a car.”

“Her bits?” Cash laughed. “Did you really just call her pussy, her bits?”

“Not all of us are as vulgar as you are.”

“You love it and you know it,” he said, grabbing my ass and pulling me against him. “That’s why you can’t resist me, admit it.” It was one of the reasons. I loved how he said what he was thinking, and how he didn’t care what others thought. But, I would resist the urge currently crashing through me because there was a game still at stake, and I wasn’t about to give up so easily.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I pushed off of him, and spun toward the row of pictures hanging on the wall. They were slightly yellowed with discolorations and sun faded, making it obvious they were older photos.

The wood frames had a layer of dust on them, and it was obvious he didn’t like to clean. “Who is this?” I asked, pointing to a picture of a young man in military garb. From my guess, it was at least a few decades old. There was a pin pushed into the wood and hanging from it a purple ribbon with two bordering white stripes and a medal of gold surrounding a purple heart and a silhouette.

“My old man,” Cash said, swiping my hair off my back, and pressing kisses to my neck.

“What war was he in?” I asked, recognizing the medal as the Purple Heart, the same my grandfather had from fighting and getting wounded in the Korean War.

“Vietnam,” he said against my skin, swiping his tongue across my earlobe and causing sparks to shoot through my body.

“He’s handsome,” I said, noticing Cash had a lot of his features, from the light green eyes to the strong lines of his jaw.

“Ladies loved him.” Cash spun me toward him, pressing my back against the wall, and pushing his hardness into my center.

“Loved? Did he?” I didn’t finish the sentence mostly because I didn’t know how to ask without being too blunt, but also because the way he nipped at my neck made any words disappear. Still, he was telling me things and I wanted to know more. “When?” I asked, because he didn’t need to answer the other question.

“Two years ago,” Cash said, dragging his tongue down my neck and cupping my breast.

“How?” I muttered, trying to keep my focus and not let the path of fiery kisses derail me.

He molded my breast between his hand; only a few pieces of material keeping his bare touch away. “It’s not important,” he growled hot against my ear.

“Cancer?” I guessed, considering if he was eighteen in the Vietnam War as he looked in his picture he’d have to be in his sixties… way too young to die by today’s standards.

“No,” he said harshly, and shoved his knee in between my legs parting them. He reached under my dress, and grabbed my ass, digging his fingers deep into the soft flesh. Pain mixed with pleasure, and a moan rose in my throat until it poured from my lips.

His mouth ran down my shoulder and I grabbed his face, pulling him back to me. I captured his lips with mine, and plunged my tongue into his mouth, relishing in his taste. I slid my tongue against his, absorbing every mind numbing thrust.

He tore my hands from his face, and pinned them up against the wall. “I think you’re losing,” I managed. “Your restraint is waning.”

“Fuck restraint,” he grumbled before smashing his mouth back to mine. Our lips moved as one, our tongues syncing as we slid back and forth against each other. My body quivered with need, but I wouldn’t lose. Besides, I wasn’t done asking questions.

I forced my lips away from his, and took in quick gasps of air, trying to catch my breath. “Heart attack?” I asked.

He smacked his hand on the wall, shaking the pictures. “No!” He ripped the top of my dress down, exposing the white lace of my bra. He dipped his head, licking a path across the round mound before pushing the lace away, and taking my nipple between his teeth.

My body arched at the delicious assault, and I knotted my fingers in his long hair. My eyes fluttered shut, and I absorbed every luscious swipe of his tongue.

His mouth closed over my nipple, and he moved up my body. My panties were soaking wet with want, and it was killing me that he was keeping his attention elsewhere. It dawned on me then that he wasn’t losing. He was winning. He was pushing me to the point where I was so consumed with desire that I would be begging for him to touch me the way I so desperately wanted him to.

I took a deep breath, trying to stay strong. I focused my energy back on talking. “If it wasn’t cancer, or a heart attack, what was it?” I asked, and his mouth stilled. I laced my fingers into his dirty blond strands, and brought his face to mine.

“Drop it,” he spat.

A storm brewed in his light green eyes, causing them to darken. Pain etched at the corners, and his jaw ticked.

“Tell me,” I pleaded, running my fingers up his neck.

“Damn it, Aubree!” he yelled, and hit his hand against the wall again, this time causing a picture to fall to the floor. I didn’t know what I was more shocked at: the fact that he remembered my real name or the anger pouring out of him in waves.

He buried his face in his hands as he visibly shook with rage. He walked away from me, and sat down on the arm of the sofa. I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, but I couldn’t just stand there. I walked over to him, and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I just want to know,” I said.

He shot up then, his face red with fury. “You just want to know!” he yelled and moved toward me. I backed away until I was trapped between him and the wall. His eyes were wild, and the pain from moments ago was amplified mixed with a disturbing darkness. “Do you want to know that my old man was shot and killed by a rival club? That I was there, and I wasn’t able to protect him? That he died in my arms, and there was nothing I could fucking do about it? Do you? Is that what you want to know?!” He rammed his hand into the wall again. “Do you?”

Fear passed through me, but was only momentary as it was replaced with heartbreak. He wasn’t going to hurt me. It was the complete opposite, actually. He was the one who was hurt. This big burly tattooed man, with a take no shit attitude, was broken. I didn’t know in how many pieces, but I wanted to. More than that, I wanted to help him in some way. I just wasn’t sure how to do that. Cash was an enigma. He lived in a world I really knew nothing about. Regardless, I still felt the pain of his loss and needed to do something.