Property Of Drex #2 (Death Chasers MC #2) (4 page)

“Mostly,” he confesses. “But at one point in time, I would have let you be killed just for having ties to the traitor who stole from us. Now you’re in my bed; I’m telling you shit I shouldn’t be; and I can’t stomach the thought of anyone else touching you. So apparently it’s not as true as I thought it was.”

Twisted relief fills me, and a touch of shame joins it. My mind works tirelessly to reconcile the fact I don’t want to leave Drex. It pieces together things that try to make it okay to be a killer, rationalizing it as though it can be logical.

What if the men he killed were going to kill him? What if they were men who would have done something to someone innocent? What if they were abusive sons of bitches?

I push the sight of the FBI agent being shot out of my mind. Drex didn’t kill him. Benny did. But Drex supplied him the incentive to make it happen.

It’s all spiraling now, but I work hard to keep from getting sucked into the cyclone.

“You’re trying to justify my actions right now, aren’t you?” Drex asks, proving his perceptiveness is sharper than I realized.

“Yes,” I answer honestly.

He smirks, but then he pushes my shirt up and over my head, baring my body to his eyes.

“Don’t,” he whispers softly. “You’ll go crazy trying to make a saint out of a sinner. And I’m never going to be a saint, baby.”

He kisses me before I can speak, and everything rolls away except for my need for him. Drex Caine really does own me.

He pulls back, staring down at me, still treating me with a gentle touch I’m still getting used to from him.

“Your mom said some shitty things to you that day that pissed me off. You did what you had to, but you didn’t tell her. Why?”

I shrug, feeling uneasy with talking about this. “She’s a good mom. Hearing what I did to save her and my brothers from destitution wouldn’t go over well. She would have felt guilty and pleaded for me to come home so she could find a way to fix it.”

He brushes a kiss over my lips with a whisper-soft touch. “And no one else could have fixed it without you doing this?” he pries.

I don’t know why he’s prying. My life is all in one folder.

“There was…
is
an uncle. He’s loaded, but… I never asked him for help.”

“Why not? Why didn’t your mom ask him for help? And how the fuck do I not know who’s in your family after all the research I’ve done?”

His exasperation and confusion is actually kind of cute. Obviously I don’t tell him that. Instead, I shrug while tracing some of the tattoos on his arm.

“Dad apparently buried any trail of him and his link to our family before he ever started working for you. Unless you have someone better than him on your team, you wouldn’t have found anything.”

It’s crazy to think my father could have solved all our problems with a few keystrokes by simply hacking some rich people’s accounts. Yet he didn’t. Instead, he tried to live an honest life. Or so I thought. Now I’m just confused with the whole deal.

Drex is staring at me, and I remember I’m supposed to be explaining yet another hidden family member he was unaware of.

“My uncle is my dad’s brother, and they’ve hated each other for years. He went to law school, and my dad was constantly bailing him out of financial jams, thanks to all those student loans he was struggling to pay back. Then, when my uncle’s law degree finally started paying off, he refused to pay my father back the money he owed. Dad was working a lot and so was Mom. They had four kids and it wasn’t easy as an accountant—not a major one either—and a waitress to make ends meet. I was too young to work at the time. Dad and Uncle Marshall had a major falling out about the money he owed Dad. After that, Dad said he was done with him.”

He slides his hand up my leg then back down, as though he’s trying to keep me relaxed.

“After Dad died, Mom asked Uncle Marshall for help. He told her to put me to work—I was already working. He didn’t even come to my sister’s funeral back when she died. Her death was when finances really got tight at home because of all the medical bills and funeral costs. Uncle Marshall came to Dad’s funeral, but he didn’t stick around. I’m not even sure why he showed up.”

“His loss,” Drex says softly. “I’m glad he didn’t bail you out. This way, I got to have you.”

That might as well be Shakespearian poetry coming from Drex Caine.

He kisses me again, and I smile, making it harder for him to keep kissing me.

“I think I promised to kiss every inch of you,” he murmurs against my lips. “How about we skip to that part?”

He runs his finger up from my hip, over my stomach, between my breasts, and then toys with my neck. His lips move down, and he follows the path of his finger in reverse, starting with my neck, and working his way down to my right hip, flicking his tongue, kissing a path, and nibbling lightly.

“I like that idea,” I moan—yes, it’s spoken through a moan. My body seems to be so attuned to him that it becomes pliant in his hands under the simplest of touches.

He reverently kisses his way back up, dragging his lips across my flesh in slow, unhurried motions. It almost feels wrong to enjoy something so much from someone I should fear.

But there’s not a trace of rational thinking when it comes to him. It’s freeing and seductive in its own right.

His lips trail over one nipple before his tongue flicks across the pebbled surface, stealing all my thoughts. He abandons it before I’m even truly teased and moves to the other one, showing it more attention when he sucks it into his mouth.

I shiver against him, and a growl emanates from his chest in response. When my hands go to his hair, his motions get a little rougher, losing the sweetness he had seconds ago.

And I love it.

He bites down just hard enough, sending a shot of painful pleasure that I can feel all the way down to my toes. When I whimper, he returns to the other side, showing it the same rough affection.

I’m in sensation overload by the time he starts moving back down my body. Just the heat of his breath licking across my skin is enough to have me aching, needing him closer.

He spreads my thighs wider before propping my legs over his shoulders, and I barely manage to lift my head enough to watch. It’s so damn erotic to see him catch my eyes before his lips fasten around my clit, sucking hard while flicking his tongue across it at the same time.

He doesn’t tease; he goes for the kill. I try to move, squirming reflexively, but he pins me down with very little effort, keeping my hips from moving.

Whimpers, cries, moans… all of it combines, creating unintelligible sounds that flow from my mouth in an endless stream. It only fuels him, and he aggressively devours me, owning me like only he can.

Pleasure that almost hurts starts to unfurl in the pit of my stomach. My toes literally curl, digging into the flesh on his back. My body jerks as wave after wave of euphoria crashes over me, hitting me so hard that I can’t stop the scream that bubbles out.

In one swift move, his mouth is on mine, and he’s surging inside me, driving into me hard enough to force me up higher on the bed. His lips seal against mine, swallowing the sounds escaping, and his hips continue their hard, but slow thrusts.

It’s so different than it has been. I love kissing him, feeling that connection. It feels good; it feels right. His thrusts turn into a rocking motion, gentling as he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and tugs it with his teeth.

Then our eyes meet as he releases my lip, and the intensity of his gaze sears deep inside me. It only seems to make each touch better, stronger… as though it means so much more than it has.

My hands go to his hair as a sheen of sweat gathers over our bodies, but he continues the slow, tormenting pace. His lips come down on mine, and he kisses me almost lazily.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was Drex Caine’s version of making love to me.

His fingers entwine with mine, and he lifts my hands above my head until they’re flat against the pillow. His body moves against mine, skin against skin, and his slow thrusts continue hitting deeply inside me.

Time gets lost to sensation, and I struggle to get my hands free, wanting to hold him to me. He finally releases them, and my arms go around his neck as he grips my hips, using the leverage he finds to drive in even deeper.

“You’re mine,” he whispers across my lips. “Remember that.”

It almost sounds like a plea, but I’m not sure why. His thrusts start to get a little more aggressive, and my body arches into his, as that same, incredible, intense feeling begins to form again.

My back stiffens, and my legs clamp down harder as euphoria explodes through my body, almost shattering every ounce of strength I have. Drex groans into my mouth, still kissing me, still holding me, and still making me feel like I’m all that matters in this moment.

That sexy growl sound he makes sends shivers all down me as he thrusts in really hard one last time, and collapses to my body, almost crushing me.

He curses before flipping to his side, dragging me with him, and staying inside me. I just relax on top of him, unable to move.

“That was intense,” he says, breathing hard.

A smile spreads across my lips, but I nod instead of attempting to form words.

He runs his fingers through my hair until I almost fall asleep, but I wake up when he slides out of me and remember that I have to clean up.

“We should probably make you a doctor’s appointment,” he says as I stand and sway toward the bathroom.

That makes me tense.

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t seen you pop a pill since you got here, and I haven’t worn a condom.”

I relax a little.

“I’m on the shot. I have a standing appointment. Which is… soon-ish.”

He lets his eyes rake over my body in a way that tells me we’re not finished for the day. Which is fine by me.

“Then hurry up and get back so I can take full advantage,” he says with a sexy gravel sound to his voice.

As I slip into the bathroom, a leery feeling sinks in.

“What if those FBI guys follow me and try to question me without anyone around?” I call out from the bathroom while cleaning myself up.

After finishing, I look in the mirror at the girl staring back at me and half wonder what I’ll find if I look close enough. It’s a little worrisome that the girl staring back at me looks torn between happy and afraid.

Not afraid of Drex though. I’m still trying to figure out if that’s stupid or good.

“If they approach you, call one of the guys immediately and don’t say anything until someone gets there. But it seems like they’ve moved their full concentration to Pop.”

That isn’t giving me the peace it should.

“What if your guys don’t believe I’ve kept my mouth shut when they get there?”

Silence answers me, and dread starts to creep in until suddenly a pair of blue eyes meet mine in the mirror and two arms come around my waist.

Drex stands behind me, holding me to him, and keeping his eyes locked on mine through the reflection.

“No one knows that you know anything besides me. I’d never let anyone touch you.”

I want to point out that he didn’t have a say the two times someone has touched me. First the muscled-up baboon, which is a memory I don’t want to deal with. Then Dash was ready to carve me up and feed me to the fishes.

Wait… That’s the mob’s thing. Not a motorcycle club.

Shaking my head from my thoughts, I slide my hands over his, leaning back against him.

“And to think I was going to teach Math.”

His eyebrows go up at my random shift in conversation.

“What?”

“I was going to college to get my teaching degree just last year. Now I’m standing naked in your bathroom and calmly discussing how to deal with not getting myself killed over a misunderstanding or lack of trust.”

He grimaces, and I turn in his arms. One of his hands comes up and cups my cheek, and I stare into his eyes.

“Where do you want to be?” he asks me, even though I can see the hesitance in his eyes to receive the answer.

I’d never have thought I’d
want
to be here. But after running away from all this… I didn’t feel anything but lost. Maybe because it was so short-lived, but I wanted to be back with Drex. Which sounds insane even in my head.

This… This is all crazy and dangerous and possibly even suicidal. But the edge of fear is also exciting and intense. I
feel
something every day instead of going through the motions. Each moment seems important. Each second ticks by slower. I’m no longer rushing through the day to get to the next day so I can
start
living my life.

Right now, I’m just living. It’s better than just surviving.

I wasn’t happy in my life, but I was doing what I thought I was supposed to. I was following the path laid out for me by my father. I was trying to make everyone happy by being the perfect daughter. The perfect sister. The perfect girl.

“I want to be here,” I whisper. “With you.”