Condemned and Chosen (6 page)

In a matter of seconds, the friendly embrace became explicit. Molly framed Romy’s face and showered her lips with a series of deep-throttled kisses, plunging her tongue into the heart of Romy’s mouth while eagerly whispering against her lips as their breasts pressed together.

“Make love to me,” Molly begged, seemingly unaware of the way she’d been set up and lured in.

Laurel stood nearby waiting and watching, but more than anything else, she was probably plotting and planning. Romy had no question about her goals as Laurel drew a small pistol from her pocket.

Romy pushed Molly to her knees, making sure her back stayed to Laurel. She held her there, gripping her right shoulder as if to steady herself. In fact, she used Molly’s body for support, a way to brace for the impact.

Molly lifted Romy’s shirt and kissed her belly, nuzzling her as she worked with Romy’s zipper. Romy glanced down once, then back up again at Laurel, willing her to change her mind as Laurel gripped the small handgun with both hands.

“I knew,” Molly said, flicking her tongue over Romy’s belly ring. “I knew we’d be good together. It’s why I couldn’t leave you here. I came back.”

“Came back?” She narrowed her eyes on one of the most beautiful women in the world, acknowledging the tingle of her pussy, the funnel of warm sensations leaving her to clench around nothing more than hollow emptiness, an emptiness that somehow managed to envelop her with truth and a wealth of understanding. “Where did you go?”

Romy shook her head at Laurel. She didn’t want her to pull that trigger until she had answers and knew without a shadow of a doubt that Molly had meant to harm them.

Laurel’s arms relaxed and she nodded in agreement. She seemed relieved, acting as if Romy had given her an out she desperately desired.

More invested in doing away with clothing barriers, Molly fumbled with the buttons on Romy’s slacks before jerking down her zipper. She inhaled her scent, acting as if her womanly fragrance provided a breath of fresh air.

“You didn’t answer me,” Romy said, tilting her chin up. “You said you ‘came back’. What did you mean? Where’d you go?”

Molly kissed Romy’s stomach again. This time, she moved right to left, shucking Romy’s slacks away in the process.

Laurel lifted the gun once more. Again, Romy shook her head in warning.

Molly shifted to her knees and crouched right in front of Romy. “Do I make you hot, lover?”

She jiggled her ass. Laurel rolled her eyes and lifted the pistol again.

Apparently wise to the emotional tug-of-war Romy couldn’t escape, Laurel aimed the gun at Molly’s back. Oblivious to what was happening, Molly dragged her finger up and down Romy’s inner thigh, stopping at the natural groove between her upper leg and pelvic area.

“Why, Molly?” Romy asked, grabbing a handful of Molly’s hair and staring into those chilly blue eyes.

“Shh,” Molly whispered. “Quiet now. I’ll tell you, but first I have to taste you.”

Romy only glanced at Laurel, but she was certain she would have earned a disapproving stare. Still, she was so close to the truth, to the facts the MC needed before pre-judging a woman who perhaps didn’t deserve to stand as the accused.

Molly rose a little higher on her knees, and Romy released her, questioning herself immediately. Had she released her for personal pleasure and independent gain or had she loosened that hold because she was anxious, desperate to feel the tight clench of her pussy closing around a fluttering tongue and searching fingers?

A little lower. She moved just an inch or two down.

Then, she dragged her fingers through her slit and whispered, “Promise me one taste.”

One digit entered her.

Romy gasped as Molly’s finger twirled right inside her opening. Smiling up at her, Molly rasped, “Promise me.”

Swallowing, Romy pressed her palm against the top of Molly’s head. At that moment, nothing would stop her from enjoying such illicit pleasures. Even Laurel had dropped her weapon once again. She paced the small area in front of the bay window, pretending to ignore them, but obviously disgusted by the turn of events.

She could turn her back to them for all Romy cared. Mama and the others were wrong about Molly. The entire club had pre-judged her without cause. She’d misjudged her, too.

Molly swiped her tongue over her pussy lips. “I want these swollen lips on mine when you learn the truth.”

“What truth?” The question fell out in exasperation. She pushed down on Molly’s head, wanting to drive her closer, longing for her in a way that was purely sexual. The woman within refused to think about what Molly was trying to tell her. She didn’t give a damn about the blasted truth then. All she wanted, all she needed, was something exquisite and sweet, a loving stroke from a willing tongue, a lover willing to cool that intimate burn, the indescribable yearning she’d possessed since arriving at Safe Mountain.

She wanted to mash her sex against Molly’s greedy mouth and lose just a small portion of her innocence. At the same time, she remembered her place. She held fast to her position beside one of the most powerful men in the world.

“You are a pretty young thing.” Molly fingered her clit, opening and closing her mouth as if to mimic Romy’s reactions, too.

“Give me the truth.” Strangled words tumbled from her mouth.

Molly’s lips locked around Romy’s clit. She cried out as a multitude of pleasure scattered a billion little sensations throughout her body. Molly paused, glanced at Romy, and with a wicked smile pasted to her mouth, continued still lower.

This time, she thrust her tongue inside Romy’s pussy and with swirling motions, she drove her to the brink of her very first lover-inspired orgasm.

“Oh God!” Romy lost her balance

“I thought you knew.” Molly caught her hips and looked up at her with a confused expression. “But you don’t. Do you?”

“What?” It took an excessive amount of effort for Romy to force the one word past her lips.

“I went to town to tell the Senator about Safe Mountain.”

Laurel came to an abrupt stop behind them. She dragged her hand nervously through her hair and while Romy was aware of her actions, she wasn’t exactly focused on Laurel then. She was in tune now with the deceptive force kneeling before her, the woman who had just about driven her to orgasm with one swipe of a silken tongue.

“Did you see the Senator?” Romy’s vision blurred. The acts unfolding were unfathomable and yet there she was in the middle of an explicit scene while all hell could’ve been breaking loose right outside the clubhouse’s doors.

“No.”

Romy didn’t believe her.

“You still didn’t answer me. Why’d you come back here?”

“I came here for you, sweetie,” Molly admitted, dragging her fingers through her slit once more.

This time, Romy didn’t moan. She didn’t cry out or even pay attention to the fiery chemistry so evident between them.

All she saw was pure evil. And she understood then what she had to do.

Jerking Molly’s head back, she yelled, “Tell me why you came back here!”

“Don’t you see,” Molly whispered, her eyes flooding with tears that would never fall.

“None of them understand. None of them know the true reason we’re all here, Romy. We’re the condemned. We’re the damned.”

Romy’s hand shook. She realized then what she needed to do. She understood what the club would expect. And she realized then that Mama could never live with herself if she took another person’s life.

“You came here to kill Chuck.” She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat. “You came back to kill my mate.”

Molly’s nostrils flared and her lips curved in a smile. “I came back to save the condemned.”

“Then you returned with the wrong attitude,” Romy said, taking Molly’s head in her hands. Then, without giving it a second thought, she jerked her wrists and snapped Molly’s neck, watching as the life of another quickly diminished.

Headlights flooded the room as the bikes returned to Safe Mountain. Laurel rushed her, peeling her hands and fingers away from Molly’s dead form. The crackling of a vroom, vroom racket resounded just outside the window as the bikes rolled over gravel-covered terrain.

Assuming her role as Mama, Laurel quickly helped Romy reassemble her clothing.

Aware of her surroundings but so desperate to put the past behind her, Romy stared down at Molly one last time before stepping around her. “Ask Brice to get this mess cleaned up before Chuck comes in and sees her like this.”

“Romy—”

She held up her hand. “I’m all right Laurel. It had to be done.”

“Yes.”

She forced a smile, if for no other reason, than to persevere in front of the MC’s sheep.

As the club president’s old lady, Romy needed Mama’s respect. Maybe after this incident, she’d earned it.

“We’re the chosen, Mama. We aren’t the damned. We aren’t the condemned. We’re the chosen.”

Laurel nodded once. Romy nodded back. Then, Romy hurried to the cellar, to her original bedroom. Once there, she grabbed hold of her quilt and shoved the thick material in her mouth, determined to mute her cries and muffle her harrowing screams
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Chapter Nine

“Where is she?” Chuck didn’t acknowledge the body on the floor. There wasn’t time. He had sensed Romy’s angst as they were riding back to the mountain. Now, he felt her heartache, owned it as his own.

“You can’t help her with this,” Laurel said.

“Where is she?” He slammed his fist against the wall, aware of the structure closing around his fist, the sheetrock and insulation biting at his flesh.

Brice was behind him then and so were the others. “Man, maybe she needs some time.

Leaving holes in the walls won’t solve anything. Give her some time. This went down just a few minutes—”

Chuck pushed by him. Taking long strides, he followed his intuition, aware then more than before, that he was a mated wolf as much as a committed man.

He rushed the end of the hall, took a sharp left and hurried down fourteen steps, counting each one until he reached the bottom. Taking another short flight of stairs, he took a left and then another right, entering the heart of the dungeon.

Stopping abruptly, he’d just started to turn and return upstairs when she said, “How’d you know I was down here?”

His heart slammed against his chest, knocking out one rhythmic beat after another. His erection throbbed. His eyes searched.

He needed her. God help him. He needed to hold her close, not as mates promised to one another, but as mates with the most loving of intentions.

Romy stepped out of the darkness like a haunted goddess. Wearing a white, transparent gown, she looked like beauty in motion, flowing gracefully into her steps as if she had no particular interest in rushing into his arms.

He, on the other hand, longed to have her run to him. He wanted her to throw herself into his embrace, shower him with kisses, and begin with a series of heart-warming promises.

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” she said, keeping her distance.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“You kill someone and you don’t want to discuss it?” He could see where this might be a problem back in the old world but here it could definitely be an advantage. If his woman wasn’t afraid to defend herself and the other women there, he could rely on her whenever he and the others were summoned for a collection ride.

“She came back here for you.”

He felt his lips twitch. “But of course she did.”

Romy approached him then. Clearly angry, she balled her fists. “That’s not what I meant.”

Loving that spark, that added flare of tempting heat, he clutched her waist and drew her against him. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“She was here to kill you.”

“I could’ve handled this when I returned.”

“You would’ve killed a woman?”

He would’ve hated to kill a woman, but yes, he could’ve done it without blinking an eye.

He had his doubts if Romy blinked given the fact he was only gone from the mountain for about an hour. “If Molly or anyone else for that matter had threatened to harm you, yes I could’ve put her down like a rabid dog.”

“She wasn’t an animal, Chuck. She was a human being.”

He shrugged, trying to think of the best way to ease her mind. “She was a predator.”

Romy shivered. Her teeth clattered. She crossed her arms over her breasts. “So I was what…her prey?”

“Why do I get the feeling this is one of those ‘does this dress make me look fat’ kinds of questions?”

“Does it?”

To his surprise, Romy twirled in her nightdress. As she turned around and around, she moved closer to the lit candelabras. Her hair, the color of chestnuts, shimmered like it had an added touch of gold. The dim lighting only accentuated her soft features. She wasn’t just pretty, she was incredibly beautiful.

His throbbing cock stretched, reached for her. “What was the question again?”

“Was I her prey?” Her tone was serious, hard, but her eyes were as soft and liquid as pure sweet honey.

“You were a means to an end.”

“What are you saying?”

Chuck took a deep breath. Trying to still the dominant beast within when he was in the middle of an exquisite dungeon, a room filled with explicit adult toys, made for complications.

“Chuck?”

Jerking when she said his name, he bracketed his arm around her waist and drew her against him. “Does it matter?” His nostrils flared with the light smell of sex. He released her immediately, aware of the betrayal, of the way she’d fooled around with another, a woman who was undoubtedly dead, but the logistics in the aftermath of betrayal didn’t matter. “You fucked her.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t.”

Before he could quiet the wolf inside, Chuck’s incisors jabbed through his gums. He managed to keep them from falling below his bottom lip but the angry wolf was dying to show his face.

Realizing it wouldn’t take much for his temper to get the best of him, he stalked the wall of props. He selected his passion and chose a flogger instead of a riding crop, a flogger with bulb-shaped leather loops on the end of eight flaps.