TRIGGER: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (20 page)

“Cute,” Reign said. “But I
gotta
dip, really. Gabriella’s been home with the kid for a
day, she’s probably about to go out her mind. But you feel okay, Trigger?”

“I feel…I feel
kinda
tired again…” I said, realizing it was true only as I
said it. My eyelids were feeling heavier and heavier.

“You get you some sleep,”
Reign said, then glanced at Cass. “Both of you. Chair sleep
ain’t
real sleep. I’ll check in on
y’all
tonight.”

When he was gone, and it was
just me and Cass, the only reason I could keep my eyes open was because I
didn’t want to stop looking at her. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding my
hand tight, like she was afraid that if she let go I’d disappear.

“
C’mere
,”
I said, releasing her hand only to hold my arms out. She smiled and lay down
beside me. I covered her in the blanket and, turning on my side with only a
slight groan, enveloped her in my arms. I felt like I was back in New
Hampshire, holding her tight through the cold nights and the even colder
nightmares. I felt like I was home.

Cass

It was like hearing the opening chords of a song you
used to love, but haven’t listened to in forever. There’s no hesitation as you
start to sing along, the words coming back to you easily, your lips and tongue
and vocal chords operating from muscle memory alone.

We’d slept through the whole day, and it was just dark
outside, from what I could tell through my mostly-closed eyes. I let my lids
flutter upwards once or twice, yawned, closed them again and snuggled in
tighter. Trigger’s arms around me tightened.

I felt the unmistakable shaft of hardness against my
back. We began the slow dance; me pressing back slightly, him pressing forward.
His nose pushed through my hair to find the bare skin of my neck, his warm
breath tickling my still-sleeping skin. I pulled my knees up higher, he pressed
against me, I pressed back.

I almost fell back asleep. His hand moved from my
waist to my breast, cupping it lazily, stroking me through my shirt. I
stretched my legs downward, fitting the curve of my ass into his waist. He
pressed against me. I pressed back.

His lips moved to graze my neck, his other hand came
up, his arms crossed around my chest now, one hand on each breast, tenderly
stroking. His cock was hard and then harder against my ass, his hips moving up
and down, the thin fabric of my leggings offering little resistance. I cooed as
his palms covered my nipples, his tongue tracing a lazy design on my neck. I
turned my head, offering him more of me to taste.

“Hurt too much?” I whispered, eyes still shut tight,
body moving on feeling alone. I pressed against him. He pressed back.

“Don’t care,” he growled into my ear, nibbling the
side of it, sending a shiver up my spine. The shirt I wore had a deep V in it,
and I wasn’t wearing a bra, having discarded it sometime while we were
sleeping. He moved his hands to my chest and then down the front of my shirt; I
went rigid, his hands were cold, my nipples hard as his fingers twirled around
them.

I parted my legs slightly, drew my waist up. He was
wearing boxers, and I moved my own hand around to grab his shaft and pull it
through the hole in the front. He pressed into me, his cock sliding between my
thighs, rubbing along my still-covered slit. I pressed back, moaning as the
head of his cock rubbed against my clit.

“Get these off,” he growled into my ear once more.
Kicking awkwardly and tugging, I pulled my leggings down, loathe to move too
much lest he need to relinquish his tender grip on my chest. My thong was paper
thin, and as he pressed against me once more I felt the fabric dampening.

He slid between my lips and stilled, the head of his
cock pressed against my clit. His fingers teased my nipples while his hands
clutched my breasts tight, as though trying to fuse our bodies together by
virtue of closeness, his lips tickling a trail of pleasure across my neck.

“Oh,” I moaned, my thighs turning rigid with desire,
my legs wanting to part more for him, yet still savoring the slow sweetness of
it all. He pressed against me. I pressed back.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded, low and guttural, his
voice like molten lava flowing through my body and igniting fires at my nerve
endings.

Obeying, I slid one hand down the front of my thong,
finding my slit wet and hot, the feel of his cock pressed against me so tight
inciting a thrill in my clit. I rolled one finger around the tender button, the
shocks of pleasure beginning to dance around my brain. He could feel my fingers
working against the head of his cock, could feel my dampness through the thin
fabric, and he growled again into my ear.

“I want to fuck you,” he said, his hot breath blowing
into my ear almost enough to drive me over the edge on its own. My finger
circled my clit patiently, drawing out the pleasure, my cunt beginning to throb
and ache from need.

Pushing the thin fabric to the side, he pressed
against my slit. I moaned and threw one leg over his, opening myself for him.
He began to slide into me, torturously slow, and though I pressed myself
against him as hard as I could, he wouldn’t give me more than he wanted to give
me. His hands moved to my hips, holding me still, my finger sliding up and down
the side of my clit, pussy aching to be filled with him.

Each inch of his cock offered new pleasures, my cunt
stretching tight around him, until finally he pressed himself entirely inside
me, filling me to the very brim with his thick manhood, his fat cock buried all
the way to the shaft. He pressed into me, gently, feeling my pussy stretch to
fit him, my body jerking from pleasure as my clit buzzed, my finger speeding up
around it, fast circles now as he plunged himself into my deepest, most
sensitive places. He moved one hand back up to my breast, cupping it roughly
now and tweaking my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, fuck,” I cried as he lifted himself slightly,
leaning upwards on his elbow and shifting his hips to slip even further into
me. My clit was throbbing, the bundle of nerves getting more and more tense, my
stomach churning with a wave of desire as his fingers teased my nipple, his
cock pulsing inside me so deep I thought he would actually press into my womb.
“Oh, god, Trigger, please…”

“Please what,” he growled, pulling himself out of me
slightly. My free hand flew to his waist, pulling at him, desperate to feel him
deep inside me once more. My clit was so hard and swollen I knew I couldn’t
last much longer, and I wanted to feel his cock pressed into me, wanted to
spill my juices over every inch of it.

“Please fuck me, please let me come,” I begged,
moaning as he slid himself into me once more, so slowly it was painful. I could
feel him holding back the final inch, hovering right above that place inside me
that craved him most, that would shudder and explode with passion the moment he
entered.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he growled, voice primal and
dominant. “Tell me who you belong to.”

I stroked my clit harder, feeling that wave of desire
cresting, growing huge and impossible, my muscles stretching to their limit, my
nerves on fire with need, my heart clenching, my lungs threatening to collapse,
my cunt burning with want, every inch of me screaming for release.

“I’m
your’s
, Trigger, I’m
all yours, I belong to you, forever, I swear, my body is yours, all yours,” I
cried out, and as he pushed himself into me all the way, filling me at last,
the wave broke and washed over me, pleasure streaming into every hair on my
head, toes curling as my clit exploded with pulsing release, my pussy releasing
its juices like a flood down his shaft, dripping onto my thighs, my eyes
closing as white light filled my head.

I could hear, as though from far away, Trigger’s growl
as he pushed his body against mine, forcing me over onto my stomach, keeping
himself inside me as I came and came for him. I reached out blindly, grabbing
the sheets in fistfuls.

“Oh, my God,” I moaned as my climax waned. Positioned
behind me, between my thighs, Trigger began to move in and out of me in slow
strokes. I raised my hips to meet him, and he grabbed onto them, pulling me
back so that each stroke buried him entirely in my now-dripping cunt.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured appreciatively. The
angle forced my clit against the sheets, and each thrust made the still-tender
button swell and tense once more. Trigger moved my body like a toy, commanding
my movements, his strong arms pushing and pulling me against him.

“Only for you,” I murmured into the pillow, mind still
ravaged
my the
climax. My hands gripped the sheets
tighter as, impossibly, I felt my passion rising once more. He was still
fucking me slowly, as though savoring every wet stroke.

“Mine,” he grunted. “All fuckin’ mine.”

His thrusts were slow but deep, his cock positioned
downward, seeming to plunge to the very depths of my womanhood. A knot of need
began to throb in my belly once more, a tangle of desire that connected my clit
and my pussy and my breasts as they grazed the bed.

“Trigger, I’m…I’m…I’m
gonna
…”
I panted, struggling in his grip to press against him faster, needing him
deeper and harder. He picked up on it and obliged, beginning to stroke faster
inside me, each thrust speeding up and slamming harder and harder into my cunt.

“Come for me again,” he growled, fingertips digging
into the soft flesh of my hips, balls smacking against me as he moved his hips
like a piston, a machine built only for my pleasure. The knot in me seemed to
expand and expand, and my eyes rolled back into my head, the sheets pulling
free of the mattress in my grip.

He was fucking me so hard it felt like being ravaged
by a wolf, some wild beast driven only by primal need. The knot throbbed and
grew and throbbed as my clit was driven into the sheets, swelling and pulsing
with each slamming thrust.

“Yes, baby, oh, fuck, yes, I’m
gonna
…oh
god, I’m
commminnngggg
,” I cried out as he slammed
into me one final time, releasing himself deep inside my womb, my pussy milking
the cum from his cock, filling me with a sticky warmth as the knot inside me
unfurled in glorious tendrils of ecstasy.

Holding my hips against his, pressing himself into me,
he
spurt
what felt like gallons of cum into me before
finally releasing his grip and falling away from me with a wet plop. I
collapsed forward, hair sticking to my face as I nuzzled into the pillow.

“Shit,” he said through panting breaths. “Cass…”

I could only moan in wordless pleasure, body tingling
and comatose. I felt, rather than saw, as Trigger crawled around to lie behind
me, enfolding me in his arms once more. I curled up against him, feeling our
mingled juices on my thighs. I could feel his heartbeat, fast but slowing,
against my back. I wondered if our hearts were beating in time.

When I woke again, the sun was out once more, morning
rising over the desert. Shifting in the bed, something felt wrong. As my mind
caught up to my body in waking, I realized I was alone, the space behind me
bare. For a moment, panic gripped me.

He left
again,
I thought.
He left me
again…

Sitting bolt upright, my eyes scanned the room. There
was no sign of him…no noise in the small apartment…I was waiting for the sound
of a toilet flushing, water running, a plate being removed from a cabinet.
Nothing just stillness.

There must
be some explanation,
I thought, curling up and bringing my knees to my
chest. The immediate panic passed, leaving behind a dull, painful fear. I knew
he wouldn’t really have just left…he couldn’t have. Where would he even have
gone?

But in the stillness of the apartment, my mind
immediately went to the worst places.

Maybe he
went to pick up breakfast,
I thought. But in his condition, he shouldn’t have
been going
anywhere.
Especially not
after the energy he’d expended the night before…I could still feel his dried
seed on my thighs.

For no reason, I decided to tip-toe as I left the
bedroom. The apartment was small, with just a kitchen and a bathroom off the
bedroom. It wasn’t like he was hiding…

It was about 9am; I didn’t think the bar would be
open, but it was the only place within reasonable walking distance for someone
who’d sustained his level of injuries. I begrudgingly put on some of the
clothes Reign had brought over, which belonged to his wife. I’d arrived with
only the clothes on my back, which I’d been wearing since Reno, and they likely
would have fallen apart if I hadn’t gotten to change them. Still, it felt
strange to be wearing someone else’s clothes, especially someone I’d never met.

And, it reminded me of the way Reign had looked at me
when I’d first arrived. There hadn’t been outright anger in his eyes, but he
hadn’t been happy to meet me. And could I really blame him? After all, what
Trigger had done for me had caused a lot of trouble, and the club President had
wasted no time in telling me that.

When Jennie and I had arrived, the road had mostly
been cleared – mostly. But there was still evidence of the explosion: scorch
marks on the pavement, a few ruined tires, bits and pieces of machinery that
looked too hot to touch.

“What the hell…” Jennie had murmured as we pulled up.
Ditcher’s Valley had been so small we’d nearly blown clear past it before
realizing we were there; the bar-motel looming in the distance had seemed a
hive activity in comparison to the bare streets, so we’d naturally decided to
try asking there.