Knot (Road Kill MC #2) (6 page)

Noose

“The hearing's on Tuesday.”

Wring nods. His blond buzz cut leaves his ears sort of stranded on the side of his head, and scars litter his scalp like small cutouts of pearly flesh. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms. “So we've got Trainer on her.” Wring shrugs. “He's not going to leave her, Noose.”

I know that. But fucking Diablo will not take our interference lying down. There
will
be retribution.

I want Rose to know I'm there for the bullshit hearing. I've got her back. Even if she told me to leave.

Hard to swallow—
even if she doesn't want to fuck me.
My lips thin into a grim line. Her body sure wants to fuck me. But that's not enough.

I want her mind. I want her will.

I want Rose.

Lifting my cell, I wag it at Wring. “Trainer says she's at her parents’.”

“She'll be there awhile. Explaining what's gone down,” Wring says.

I bet she'll leave out the version of my tongue in her pussy and the fingers. An image of Diablo’s fingers in Rose's pussy has me fucking pissed again.

Wring studies my face, only the rumble of our bikes in the background. We're about three blocks from Rose's parents’ house. I'm hanging out, thinking of what I've got to do.

“What?” Wring asks. His eyes look like twin discs of shadows in his face. The streetlight from across the street doesn't reach our position.

“Thinking about what we came in on back there.”

“Chaos?” he asks in confirmation.

I nod. I toss the cig butt on the ground and grind it under my heel. “That fucker Diablo—didn't look like he was hurting her.”

Wring glances away for a second then back at me. “Word is, that fucker is psycho.”

“Tell me something new. Fucking rapist,” I spit.

“Not exactly.”

My head snaps in his direction from scanning the street, waiting for Rose's little car to cruise past. “Explain.”

Wring swings his palms up inoffensively. “Listen, man—it's the word. But seeing how Rose was getting it, seems to be true.”

“If you don't tell me what the cryptic fuck you're talking about in the next two seconds, we're gonna go.”

Wring snorts. “Fine, ya prick. First, Diablo is a rapist. He likes to be one of many. Team player.”

“Not funny.” I swirl my finger, urging him to go on.

He agrees with a nod. “So he turns the girls on. Just works their bodies until they're so turned on, they finally let him rape them.”

I jerk my head back. “How is that rape?”

“It is.” Wring taps his head. “It's a mental thing, form of torture. Think about it. Girl gets kidnapped. Scared out of her fucking mind. Then she's made to get all fixed up, gets splayed out in front of a bunch of men she doesn't know.”

My memory flashes on Rose's sexy outfit, the hair, and the makeup. “Go on.” My fingers burn with adrenaline and anger. I have no outlet.

Wring's eyes flick to mine. “We know how long a human being takes to burn through the fight-or-flight response.”

Neither of us says anything. We don't need to.

“Diablo is somewhat skilled in this area, apparently. He plays with the pussy, gets the girl wet—while shame is there—fear, anxiety. But all those emotions are heightened ones. That's what makes it so bad. It's the sheer unexpectedness of it.”

I can't stand it. “So Rose was turned on?” I growl.

“Don't kill the messenger, Noose.”

I hop off the bike, letting it run. I pace the shadowy sidewalk. Night took the day down in one swallow hours ago. I whirl, remembering Diablo's glossy fingers.

I yell, rage and horror mixed.

“Fuck!” Wring jumps off the bike, hitting his stride and hopping the step up from the road to sidewalk in two steps. “Shut the fuck up, Noose!” He slaps my shoulder, and my lips clamp shut.

My fists ready, I step into his chest.

Wring's pale-blue eyes narrow. “Save this for Diablo.”

“He made her want to fuck him through tricks.”

Wring slams his palms into my chest, and I stagger backward.

Wrong move.

I jump him. We tumble off the sidewalk, and I chop him a good one in the jaw as we land.

“Fucker!” Wring mutters and drives a fist into my gut.

The wind sings out of me. God
damn.

Wring sinks fingers into my T-shirt, jerking me nose-to-nose with him. “You dumb fucker, Rose
didn't
want to fuck him. She had
no choice.
”
Wring shakes me until my teeth rattle. “He was torturing her more by forcing her body to accept it!” he seethes, dropping my ass.

Air whoops through me.

My palms slap the grass. I hike my ass to standing.

Wring's chest heaves, and a red mark rides his jaw. “Think about it, Noose.” He shakes his head. “Forget thinking. You've apparently forgotten how.”

I glower.

“Rose would never want to have sex with the man responsible for killing her sister, right? And they were holding her down. What girl could last, with a guy who knows how to pleasure a woman continuously working her pussy?”

My chin dips.
Fuck.

His voice is soft. “That's right. Nobody. Eventually, fight and flight leaves; adrenaline dies out. If they weren't hurting her, her body would eventually just do what it wanted without her permission. Think, Noose.”

I don't want to think about another man turning Rose on—a man who doesn't want her pleasure at all. He just wants to fuck her over. Literally.

“How did you respond to all this? After we got her out of there.”

I meet his eyes. “I fucked up.”

Wring chuckles. “If this is any indicator…”

I glare at him again. “I made sure she was okay in the doc's.” I shrug.

“How okay?” Wring asks, eyes hooded. Cocksucker knows me.

“Got her off. Couldn't help it. Saw her with Diablo, and I had to—”

“Just had to mark your territory, eh?”

“I'm not peeing on her, Wring.” I sound sullen.

“I bet she feels like you were.”

Hadn't thought about it that way. Thought I was showing restraint when I really wanted to go balls deep. Make her mine. Solidify shit. Fuck. I screwed things six ways to Sunday. Then I let Crystal suck me off.
Like I needed that complication.

I fold my arms. “Okay, I royally fucked up.”

Wring nods, and I just keep the scowl going.

“Come clean with her, Noose. Give her the day. Then say—Monday, get your dumb ass over to the bank. Ask her out for lunch.”

“A date?”

Wring's smirk is deadly. “Yeah, dumbass. Show her you're not all caveman, if possible. Convince her that she's more than tail. If that's how you feel.”

My chin comes up, and I clench my jaw. “I threw down for her, didn't I?”

“We wouldn't be having this happy little convo if I thought she was just pussy.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, savagely tightening my hair tie. He's right.

“If the hearing is Tuesday, and Diablo has to be there, what's wrong with you showing up for Rose? Think about it. If your blood had been beaten to death by Diablo, wouldn't you want someone like yourself at your back?”

I grind my teeth. “Yeah. I had planned to be there.”

“She's got to want you there, Noose. Not so sure she does, given our MC status.”

“Crystal talked to her, told her we had a thing.”

Surprise washes over Wring's features. “News to me.”

I scrub my face with a rough palm. “ʼCuz we're not.”

“Crystal wants to be somebody's property, Noose. Can't blame a girl for trying.”

I shrug. “Yeah, she's got a mouth like a vacuum. She gets me off, but I'm not interested in anything permanent.”

“That's what the sweet butts are for. But Crystal didn't get the memo, told your girl Rose something different. She takes off with the prospect, and pretty much everything you did for her to this point is suspect.”

“Rose thinks I wanted to have a novelty fuck?” I make a noise of disbelief. I wouldn't work this hard for a fuck. Hell, I don't work to get laid. Easy pussy is everywhere.

I'd already had the mental conversation with myself that I apparently
liked
complicated pussy now. Rose's.

I shake my head. “No way.”

“But she might think it. Her perspective. Try to wrap your stubborn brain around the concept that she's not telepathic.”

I flip him off.

In the distance, I hear a noise like a wound-up tin can. Rose.

I stand up straight and move to the bike.

Wring and I flip our legs over our seats simultaneously. We're parked along a narrow green corridor of trees bordered by a sparsely pebbled area for bicycles.

We parked our rides there instead.

A little white car cruises past.

Blond hair flashes from the back seat. The kid. Charlie.

I barely make out Rose’s outline. It's her, though. I feel like I can scent her across the road and through the glass.

Our prospect, Trainer, rides by about five seconds later. His eyes find us in the darkness, and he gives the barest nod.

Rose probably doesn't realize that the protection she didn't want is there anyway.

Whether she likes it or not.

Rose

I never thought I'd get sick of hugging.

My parents are exhausting. I love them, but God! I'm stuffed. They fed me every protein-layered thing I could eat until I was so full, I thought I would barf.

Charlie is ready to go home, and I'm ready. I've given the most assurances of my life.

Yes, I won't leave ever again without my candy. No, I won't be with anyone ever who doesn't know about my medical issue.

I'm so tired, I'm sleeping on my feet. It's almost eleven o'clock on Saturday night.

One day off until work. One day of thinking about all the things that've happened in the last week—the last twenty-four hours—and trying to compartmentalize them into place inside my brain so that they make sense.

It's hopeless. I can't make sense of anything. Noose. Drake. My life.

Forget it.

I keep my eyes on the road while Charlie prattles on about all the treats and fun he had at Nana and Papa's.

I smile, nodding at all the appropriate places.

But my mind keeps circling back to Noose. How alive I felt in his arms. How vital I felt as his lips, tongue, and hands worked my body. His smell.

The feel of rightness as our bodies came together. And we didn’t even have sex.

Shame has its way with me as I remember Drake almost making me come. With five other men in the room.

I force my eyes to stay on the road.

Noose is an open wound. It really doesn't matter how great he was able to make me feel. In the end, any vagina will do.

I couldn't have sex with him after the ordeal with Drake.

So Crystal was available, and he got off with her, just minutes after making me cream my panties, the sound of my screams eaten by his mouth.

I'm certifiable.

I don't want a man like Noose. He is the worst kind of news.

He let another woman go down on him with the taste of my orgasm still on his lips.

God.

I pull up to my townhome. My stomach tightens.

“Rose!” Charlies squeaks beside me, bouncing up and down.

“Shhh,” I say softly. “Let me give the outside a look.”

My eyes roam every bit of the tidy front yard. Anna's life insurance paid for this tiny condo. Maintenance came as part of the fee.

I also chose it for how cute it was. The tiny home backs up to a small park with a playground. Our own small yard is fenced.

Rhododendrons, well past bloom time in late September, have grown to the size of small trees at the corners of the house.

They’re a great hiding place. My eyes beat against every surface, seeing nothing out of place. The porch light glows a ghostly yellowish, illuminating the porch steps.

Drake wouldn't hurt Charlie.
Property,
my mind whispers.

I shiver.

“Aunt Rose?” Charlie asks, his brow beginning to wrinkle in concern.

“Come on,” I say, struggling for courage. Just struggling.

I lift the door handle, and the door swings out. I step out into the night. The kiss of late summer lingers, but the bite of autumn eats at the edges of the season, threatening to consume it.

Charlie gets out and slams the door. He comes around to my side and races up the front walk.

“Hey, pal!” I say loudly. But I'm smiling. It's such a relief to have this part of my life back, I feel like sobbing from that alone.

He turns, dark eyes hidden by shadow, blond hair a torch of light in the night.

“Go on,” I say with a laugh. He runs to the porch, upends the terra-cotta pot filled with scarlet geraniums, and grabs the key. He stabs it into the lock and twists. Leaving the key in the lock, he shoves open the door.

I trot after.
Oops.
I turn, locking the car with a beep.

Noose stands beside my car, so quietly I never heard him behind me.

Breath eases out me like I’m a leaky balloon, and I make an inarticulate sound like a strangled duck.

“Rose.” It's all he says. My name.

My pussy floods with moisture like a trained dog.

Oh my God.
I look back at the front door, partially open.

“I need—” I swallow, hard.
Come on, Rose, stop being a dumb bitch
. “I need to get in there and see that Charlie's okay.”

“Don't worry about the kid, Rose. Got Trainer watching the house.”

Confusion pierces my lust-induced fugue. “Trainer?”

“Prospect,” Noose explains.

Oh.
I don't like thugs watching me and Charlie. I open my mouth to say so, and Noose strides to me.

I back up, my ass hitting the garage door I never use. “Stop.”

“No.” He cages me with his arms.

I shut my eyes, engulfed by his scent. The sweet, almost vanilla-like smell of WD-40 mingles with leather, smoke, and bike. I suck it in like a demented addict.

An addict after her next fix.

An image of Crystal, in sharp focus, going down on Noose's cock chokes out my raging withdrawals. “No,” I say, shoving at his chest.

Noose doesn't even pause. He presses his gigantic erection against my front, grinding into me. “Yes,” he whispers.

His lips brush my jaw, trailing featherlight kisses back and forth.

My face turns so that my mouth is underneath that softly kissing trail.

Noose groans. “I want you.”

“Not enough.” I can't believe how convinced I sound.

“I want you. Only you.” His arms wrap me, and I shake free of my lust.

Lies.
Crystal worked in a pinch. “No you don't.”

Noose leans back, studying my face like he'll memorize it forever. “We gonna talk?”

His eyes are heated silver, scorching every bit of me.

“No. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen.”

Noose's lips twitch. But he says nothing.

“I know it's not just me you want.”

Noose's lips thin. “Crystal lied. She told me what she said.”

My laugh sounds like spun glass in the warm air.

Noose's eyebrows lift. “What's so funny?”

“Before or after she blew you like a pro?” I ask, tossing his words back at him.

He steps back. “What are you talking about?”

I walk into his space, and he lets me, looking down from his great height.

Noose is a huge man. I should be afraid.

I should think about the potential for violence that seems to be like an aura around him.

I don't. I'm too pissed off to care. “Any woman will do. You don't need only me. Whatever vagina walks by is the hole of the moment.”

“What?” he roars.

“Keep your voice down. I don't want Charlie to see you.”

His face is bitter, and he folds his arms. “Not good enough for you—ashamed?”

God.
No.
“No. I… thank you for saving me from Drake.” I swallow my pride. This isn't about me. Noose saved me from Drake. He showed me how expert fingers, lips, and mouth—how all that really worked, how it could be. But I don't need a man who's going to come into my life—and Charlie's—and just leave when the next club slut comes along.

Charlie deserves more.

I do too.

“I am so fucking tired of your Dear John speeches.”

I glare up at him. “Well, here's one that has nothing to do with a speech. Charlie is more important that whatever this”—I sweep a hand between us—“is.”

His brows drop like bricks over his eyes, ablaze with steely anger.

Noose opens his mouth, and I shake my head. “I can't have some man entering my life, only to leave it again because you've found a new knothole to stick your dick into.”

“That doesn't sound like you, Rose.”

I nod. “I know. Guilty by association.”

Noose reaches out and touches my face.

Tears brim, spilling over my lashes. “I can't do that to Charlie,” I whisper. My gaze meets his. “And I deserve more than being played by you.”

Noose pulls me against him and whispers in my hair, “I'm not playing games, Rose. I'm sorry that you saw Crystal and me.” He pulls away, framing my face in his hands. “You blew me off. My balls were bluer than fuck, made that way by one woman.” His eyes never leave mine. “You'd just been through that bullshit with Chaos. I couldn't be that much of a dick. No meant no. I got it. You told me to fuck off.”

I open my mouth, but he presses a finger against my lips and shakes his head. “You needed to. I'm not a gentle man, Rose. I want to fuck you so bad, I won't be able to use my head until I do it. Crystal got the edge off. I don't want her. She was just willing. Right place, right time.”

“I am not an easy girl, Noose.”

He barks out a laugh. “No shit.”

I can't help a little smile, but it fades. “I don't need a man that will fuck anything that walks by.”

“I
can
fuck anything that walks by,” he says.

Arrogant prick.
I duck under his arm and start walking up the winding path.

He grabs my arm, spinning me around.

I instinctively grab his arms for balance.

“Ask me if I want to?”

My heartbeats pile up, one on top of the other. “Do you?”

Slowly, Noose shakes his head. “You've fucking neutered me, Rose.”

“What?”
That sounds awful.

Noose grins at my expression.

I give a tentative smile in return.

“There's only one pussy I want. I don't care about you having a kid, not knowing MC life, being a banker. I've tried to figure out why I have to have you. The short answer is:
I don't know
. What I
do
know is I don't want to go another day without you in it.”

I can tell this is a speech for Noose.

His hands are hard on me. His eyes are tender.

I shut mine. I can't stand how he looks at me or what he offers.
Because I want it all.

But if I say yes—
if
I say yes—I'll be like Anna.

I step out of his hold, and his fingertips trail down my arms like brands of fire.

“No.” I shake my head, backing away from him.

“No what, Rose? No, to us? No, to the MC?” His features are thunder. Anger boils beneath the surface, simmering.

“All of it, Noose.” I jog to my front door, slip inside, and close it.

I lean against the solid wood, eyes closed, heart thundering.
I did the right thing. I did the right thing.

The right thing feels so wrong, I can hardly breathe.

Heat builds inside my chest. Tears that have been long held drip down my face while silent sobs stack up and flow out of my mouth.

Charlie's voice shatters my meltdown. “Aunt Rose?”

His tone has my eyes snapping open.

Grinning, Drake is sitting at our tiny two-seater kitchenette with Charlie in his arms.

The horrible wound at Drake’s neck is abraded and raw. It's already beginning to bruise. I know who put that there.

Noose. The man I just sent away.

The man I love.

THE END

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