Knight (66 page)

My nudity should have frightened me more than Thorne’s approach.

It didn’t.

His very being existed to break me. His size. His stare. His desire. And I had nothing to protect me.

His steel-tipped boots thudded next to my delicate heels. The denim of his jeans clashed against the softness of my legs. My flared skirt hid nothing. His leather belt hardly contained what bulged the layers between us. My breasts, flushed and pale, exposed to him.

But his cut—the dark uniform of strength, brutality, and power—revealed more. The hardness of his muscles. The vulnerable chest where Exorcist would aim his gun. Ragged breathing. Desperate tension.

Feminine and dedicated combated against masculine and violent. Thorne didn’t take his eyes from me. His deliberate steps treaded back, and he collapsed on the leather couch behind Anathema and beyond the sight of The Coup’s distracted members.

“The fuck are you doing?” Thorne’s fury warmed my shivering skin. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Probably.” I crossed my arms. “I had to talk to you.”

“Jesus Christ.
Call
me.” He stared at the curves I couldn’t hide. “Holy shit.”

“Look, you’re in danger—”

“Dance.”

“
Excuse me
?”

He studied the club behind me. “Fucking
dance
.”

Damn it. I closed my eyes and offered a slight wiggle of my hips, the most my bruised pride and churning stomach could offer. Thorne swore.

“You’re in danger,” I said.

“Take off your shirt.”

“No!”

“The Coup is watching every fucking move I make.” He tightened his jaw. “Take off your shirt before they recognize you. Dressed or not, they’ll still disembowel you for stealing Knight’s bike.”

My legs locked up, and my wiggling turned into an unsteady wobble. I gripped the blouse and bit my lip.

“Christ, Rose, you think I haven’t seen a pair of tits before?”

“Not mine—”

“Take it off before I fucking rip it off.”

It wasn’t how I imagined stripping for Thorne. Not that the thought had even crossed my mind before last night, or that I ever imagined performing for any man. Any illusion I had of seduction, any fantasy I created of passionate, animalistic enthusiasm vanished in the trembles that shook the blouse from my shoulders. I seized a suffocating breath.

Thorne released his in a profanity. “Fuck, I’ve never been so glad to be in danger before.”

He made it impossible to feel ashamed of my body, but I still couldn’t will my hips to move. Closing my eyes only made it harder. I needed to see where he looked, and how soon the guns would be pulled.

“Get on my lap.”

“Thorne—”

“Dance or get on my lap.”

The night would only get worse before it got better. Brew whistled behind me, and I almost envied Thorne for the weapons aiming at him. He gathered me into his arms and pulled me into his lap before my brothers realized just how well I blended into the MC.

My legs awkwardly bent, and he grunted, slamming my hips down to meet his. I gripped his shoulders, but that only pushed my breasts higher, offering them for his appraisal. I shifted, and the hardness in his jeans pressed against my panties.

I blushed. Thorne didn’t apologize.

“I’m the only one who can see you,” he said.

“Yeah...thanks.”

“You’re going to make one sexy corpse.”

“I needed to warn you.”

Thorne’s hands moved upwards, resting against my sides. He accidentally gripped as I shifted, instinctually pulling me into place over his hardness. We both flinched. What parts of me hadn’t been frightened into sickness now warmed into inappropriate, undeniable need. His cock flexed under me.

“Better keep dancing.” Thorne’s voice lowered. “Wouldn’t want someone to get the wrong idea about this rescue.”

Like I had
any
idea what I was doing. I shimmied against him, slowly. Methodically. His fingers gripped harder against my hips, and I sighed as the warmth trailed along my sides, down my legs, and centered directly between my spread thighs.

“They’re going to hit you tonight,” I whispered. “I don’t know when. We have to leave.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

His fingers dug in. Hard.

“They sent a note,” I said. “Something to taunt me. Luke doesn’t know. This is all Ex. You
have
to get somewhere safe.”

“They sent you a fucking
note
?” His voice thickened with a brutal threat tempered only by heavy arousal. “What the hell happened when they grabbed you?”

I shook my head. The dancing came easier with his hands guiding me. My hips rolled over his, forth and back, rocking my body over his waist and grinding a warming part of me over his excitement. I shivered, my mind blanking to all but the roughness of his jeans, the cool air whispering over my breasts, the threat of his gaze venturing beyond where his hands touched.

“Rose,” he said. “You gotta tell me what the hell happened.”

“Nothing happened.” The lie came easier while I rubbed against him.

His hands tightened. We both stilled, but I didn’t know how much longer it could last. The hardness strained in his pants, and my trembling transcended fear and warmed with irresponsible lust. My fingers traced over his cut. The word
President
tickled my fingertip.

It was the first time the title excited me.

The music pulsed harder. I never thought I’d like R&B so much. The drums, the sexy bass, the
noise
. I leaned in close as the thumping melody deafened me to everything but my heartbeat.

His wild leather scent made the whisper more my pleasure than his warning. I brushed my chest against his vest.

“Lyn and I have a plan. I can short-circuit the electronics. Make a lot of smoke and maybe scatter everyone. Then you can get my brothers and get somewhere safe.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Shadows crossed behind us. Keep shouted to Thorne.

His hand gripped my hair, and he pulled me onto his lips before Keep recognized me.

This wasn’t part of the dance. It wasn’t part of the rescue. Or the warning. Or the plan.

But I seized his kiss as if it were the first, last, and only pleasure I would ever receive.

His lips crushed mine. A bruising, ferocious conquering that stole my breathless apprehension and demanded something greater. Something hot and pounding and harmonizing that bound me to him in flesh and promise.

The music muffled. The club twisted away. The danger evaporated. My every thought, the only pulsing desire in my body, ached for more of his kiss, another brush of his lips, and the lash of his tongue.

He kissed to protect me from my brothers. To help blend me in with the rest of the bare flesh in the club. But his strained breath, the clutching of his hands, the claiming of my desire was all for him.

And I would have given it to him.

Thorne’s grip tightened.

The shot fired into the couch and exploded into charred stuffing before I realized someone aimed for us.

Thorne dove, tossing me to the ground. My battered head smacked the hardwood, but his muscular body protected me, shielding me from the frenzy of bullets blitzing through the club.

He meant to push me through the floor. The air squeezed from my lungs, but we were safe. I twisted to hide from the crackling gunfire. Keep and Brew dropped to the ground, shouting over the firefight. Keep pulled his gun. Brew narrowed his eyes.

“Rose?” His shock raged into horror as he glanced over my body. “
What the fu
—”

Gold returned shots, and Scotch overturned his table. The dancers screamed and sought cover. My brothers aimed their weapons.

Too late.

A gun cocked over our heads.

Thorne stilled as the barrel of the nine millimeter bumped his temple.

Exorcist grinned down at us, his greasy smile slick with lust as he studied my chest.

“Picked a pretty dancer, Thorne.” Exorcist nudged the gun harder against his head. “Call off your men and I won’t smear her brains on your cut.”

Thorne glanced to his side. Gold, Scotch, and my brothers aimed their weapons at different targets. Keep swore as he recognized me.

“Where the hell are your clothes?” He yelled. His eyes snapped to Ex. “Fucking hell, let her go. She hasn’t done a goddamned thing to you.”

Brew leapt over Keep before he lunged for Exorcist. His gun wove from Thorne to me.

“Rose, Rose, Rose.” Exorcist’s barrel grazed my head. My cheek. My breast. Thorne growled. My brothers raised their guns. “You
did
grow up, didn’t you?”

I wished he’d just shoot me. His dead eyes studied Thorne.

“She’s a troubled one, this girl. You’re in for a world of therapy and daddy issues if you fuck her.”

“Just kill me.” Thorne faced his death with a rage that would have frightened the reaper. “Let Rose go, kill me, and take your stolen empire. God help you when the next son-of-a-bitch with more balls than brains decides he wants to be president.”

“You take the fun out of it.” Exorcist kicked my skirt up. “At least let’s have some entertainment.”

Thorne moved faster than a man of his size had any right to attack, but Ex was slower than a man of his age should have been.

Thorne kicked out, connecting his foot against Ex’s knee. Ex crumpled, and Thorne leapt over him. His fist crunched Ex’s nose, but the gun went off above Thorne’s shoulder. I screamed. Keep and Brew leapt over me and dragged me away from the firefight.

A second shot fired, but it wasn’t from Ex’s gun. Brew tucked me hard against his body and shielded my chest with a protective arm. Keep covered us with two guns, each poised and aimed in different directions.

“Everyone
fucking
stop.” Luke cocked his gun and pressed it against the base of Thorne’s skull. Thorne swore, but his piece still aimed for the silver hair peeking from Ex’s collar. “No one moves or I kill the president.”

“Better kill me now.” Thorne spoke between gritted teeth. His nose bled, but he was fortunate only his vest tore from where the bullet grazed his shoulder. “All this excitement gives me a weak trigger finger.”

“Let Ex up,” Luke said.

“Go to Hell.”

“The police are on their way.” Luke looked over the room. “Scanner called it in. Thorne lets Ex go, I let Thorne go, we don’t spend the night in jail sharing the fucking soap.”

“Always were afraid of prison.” Thorne snorted. “Knight in shining fucking armor. Too pretty to serve time.”

“Get off of Ex.”

“Shoot me.”

The gun rammed against his head. Thorne grimaced. Luke stared at me.

“Get him up, Rose.”

Brew tightened his hold. I gripped his arm. Every second of Thorne’s pain burst through me, mirrored in the tensing of his body, the grinding of his teeth, the frustration of his near death and the vengeance so near his hand.

My voice trembled. I feared more for the gun pointed at him than the ones aiming for me.

“Thorne, please,” I whispered. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Yes, Thorne.” Exorcist laughed, mimicking my trembling voice. “Daddy, Please.”

Thorne narrowed his eyes. “You come near Rose again, and nothing will stop me from putting a bullet in your brain.”

“I can’t stay away from a sweet-ass like her.” Ex laughed, his potbelly rippling with each fat chortle. “But I’ll let her go without sampling the goods. This time.”

Luke frowned, but his scowl etched for Ex, not Thorne. “Get up.”

Thorne hesitated. I counted the loaded guns in the room. One shot would end Exorcist, but thirteen was an unlucky number for vengeance. The men stilled, and the pounding beat of a Taylor Swift song was the last sample I wanted to hear before an all-out war.

Thorne rose to his feet, but didn’t turn to face Luke. The gun pulled back. Reluctant.

“We leave first.” Luke called for his men, staring down Gold and Scotch. “Out. Now.”

Ex dusted off his cut and winked at me. Brew’s grip squeezed the air from my lungs, but I didn’t protest. Ex and Luke retreated from the club, guns still drawn, and slammed the door behind them.

I didn’t care about my nudity. I fought away from Brew, pushed past Keep, and flung myself into Thorne’s arms. He wrapped me in a hug and curled a fist in my hair.

“You okay?”

I nodded.

“You’re riding with me. I don’t give a fuck if it scares you or not.”

I shivered. I couldn’t handle the bike. I couldn’t handle losing my life.

Losing my brothers.

Losing my only safety.

“When we get back you are going to tell me what the hell just happened here.” His voice hardened. “And I don’t care if it scares you either.”

My stomach twitched. The dread curdled my stomach, and I slumped against him as Scotch offered me his jacket.

It’d take about twenty minutes to get to Pixie.

I had twenty minutes to think of a convincing story that would cover me, save Thorne, and protect Brew and Keep.

I hated to lie. Hated to betray the man who risked his life for mine.

I doubted he’d forgive my
favor
to Exorcist, but I didn’t need his kindness.

I just needed him to stay alive.