Outlaws’ Property (Property of Outlaw Sons MC #1)

19. Jessica

19

JESSICA

"Jesus, Riot. We were planning on questioning him," Savage says.

He showed up right after Riot killed Troy, along with someone they called Sinner. Instead of an Outlaw Sons patch on his vest, Sinner's says prospect.

"We were tracking him on the cameras. Wanted to give him enough rope to hang himself, and when I saw he went straight for Jessica, I thought it would be a good idea to see how she reacted. We were already on our way when you hulked out on him."

Riot's furious expression nearly sends me running and it’s not even me it’s aimed at. I'm amazed that Savage doesn't seem phased. "Look at her fucking throat and tell me that you had it all under control!”

“Look at how you’re acting and tell me you’re not biased!” Savage snaps right back. “But it went further than it should’ve. I’ll give you that.”

“Does Hellfire know? Or were you acting on your own?”

“He’ll know soon enough. I’m not hiding anything.”

I’m still wiping the taste of puke out of my mouth when Savage comes over. He crouches down and puts a hand on my back. “I’m sorry we didn’t act faster. We weren’t sure it had anything to do with you until he’d already made his move.”

“Did I pass the test?” I look him in the eyes and he takes my anger with a nod, no excuses.

"That fucker deserved what he got,” Riot declares over his shoulder at Savage. “I fucking dare you to tell me otherwise.”

"Nah, it was an honest kill. Just would’ve preferred you disabled him. How’s her throat?”

Riot tips my chin up and examines the cut. It stings when the skin stretches. “It’ll hurt, but not too deep. Doesn’t need stitches.”

“You knew who he was. Right, Jessica?” Savage asks.

“Not at first, but yeah. His name was Troy. He’s worked for Victor for a while. I don’t know exactly how long, but a few years at least.”

“What did he want?”

“He didn’t say a lot, mostly just threats, but he wanted me to tell him where Anne was. I—I tried to send him towards the school, but then Riot showed up.”

“Is that enough? If you were watching you should know she wasn’t in on it. I’m going to go get her cleaned up unless you got a fucking objection,” Riot growls. “She’s not even wearing shoes.”

Savage nods. “Go on. I’ll report to Hellfire and Ghost. Our timer isn’t up with Kane, so I’m sure he’ll have something to say about it. This is clearly a breach of the deal.”

Riot scoops me up. I expect him to bring me back to Bonnie and Anne, but he takes me into the school where they questioned me yesterday. We don’t go in the same direction though, he carries me up to the second floor and stops in front of a door with a plaque that says Riot. He shoves the door open and kicks it shut behind us.

I look around. His room isn’t bad for a converted classroom. The ceiling is high, and there are windows all down the side opposite the door. In one corner, they’ve built out a small box room that could be a large closet, but is probably a small bathroom. Along that same wall is some basic kitchen stuff. A counter with a sink, a microwave and a small fridge.

There’s a shabby, round table with a couple of chairs, but most of the room is the bed.

Riot opens the door into the little room, confirming that it’s a bathroom. He returns with some first aid supplies and a wet cloth. He kneels in front of me while I fix my eyes on the ceiling so he can examine my neck.

I draw a sharp breath when he starts cleaning the blood. "It stings."

"Could be a lot fucking worse. You’re still breathing. He didn’t get you too bad." Riot pulls out a large, rectangular bandage that he applies like a patch. I’d be surprised, but I guess with the life they live they’re prepared for anything.

“He wasn’t supposed to kill me.” And that's when the enormity of it all hits. I almost just died. Victor would have been mad, but Troy seemed willing to take that chance. A sob wells up inside me, and I can't hold it back. And then I’m ugly crying, all the tension draining as I fully realize exactly how badly that could've gone.

Riot pulls me close so I can bury my face into his neck. “Hey… You’re gonna be okay. I promise. Things are gonna work out.”

I look up, my lips quivering as I try to stop my tears. "Are they? God, you guys broke me! I never used to cry. Crying just gets you in more trouble.”

He laughs and hooks a finger under my chin, careful with my bandage. “Honey, even I know that’s fucked up. You aren’t alone anymore. Let it out once in a while. It’s okay. You’re not broken, you’re healing.”

Riot leans in, and then his soft lips are against me, his thick, soft beard brushing my face. Stunned at his words as much as the kiss, it takes me a second before I kiss him back, but it doesn’t take long before he teases my mouth open and our tongues are dueling. Kissing and crying, all at once. God, I’m such a mess.

When he pulls back gently, a horrible realization comes to me. "Oh God, I must taste like puke! I'm so sorry!"

He laughs. "Relax, Maria. I knew what I was getting into. I think I got a spare toothbrush, if you give me a sec. Or do you want a shower? Your shirt is…"

I look down, where blood has dripped all over my clothes. "Yeah, that sounds good. Who’s Maria?"

"Sound of Music?"

I blink in confusion.

“Add it to the viewing list, nanny.” Riot pulls a shirt out of a dresser next to his bed and throws it my way. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

I follow him into the small bathroom.

He grabs a towel off a hook and gives it a sniff. "It's clean, I swear. I just wasn't expecting company. Are you good? Do you need anything?"

"No, but…"

"What?"

"It's embarrassing. Could you leave the door open? I know I'm safe in your room, but I thought I was safe out there, too."

Riot's expression shifts, his eyes darkening and a playful smile tugging his lips. "You want me to keep you company, baby girl?"

He stalks forward, forcing me backwards until I bump against his bathroom wall. He cages me there, hands on either side of my shoulders. He's so close that I can feel the heat of him, but we aren't touching anywhere else.

Not yet.

My breaths come fast as he lowers his lips, stopping just short of kissing me. "Can you? I don't know if I want to do… anything, but…"

"Not gonna do anything you don't want." He undoes the button on his pants, pushing them down and revealing his boxers.

“Wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

I have to tell him what happened with Ghost, right? What if it means something? I don’t know what I’m doing and they’re obviously friends. I don’t want to cause trouble. “The other morning, when I woke up with Ghost, we… fooled around.”

Riot smirks. “That old dog. Tell me more.”

“We didn’t have sex, but he made me… I guess technically I made myself, but only because he told me to!” Ugh, that explanation is about as solid as Swiss cheese.

“You played with yourself for him? Did he watch you come?” Riot doesn’t look mad, he looks really freakin’ turned on.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Damn, sure wish I was there to see it.”

“He’s not going to get mad, is he? That I’m in here with you?”

“You’re worried about our feelings?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I am.”

“Baby, no one’s made any commitments here. I can’t speak for everyone, but me, Tex and Ghost, we understand and respect each other. So long as you keep your little playtime explorations to us, you’re fine. We’re having fun. If things start getting serious, we’ll talk about it and you’ll know. Fair?”

I nod, relieved. I might not understand biker culture, but it’s pretty clear they play by their own rules. I pull my shirt over my head.

The room is small, and it's awkward to undress in front of each other, but it's kind of fun, too. He's built like a Greek statue, but I'm no goddess. Nobody has ever seen me like this before.

Riot looks me over, then whistles softly. "Fuck, you're gorgeous. Let's get you clean before we get dirty." He pushes back the shower door and leans in to start the water.

I'm naked. With a naked man. And we're going to shower together. If I hadn’t had my encounter with Ghost, I’m not sure I’d be this daring, but now I want to see what Riot will do, and how it’ll make me feel.

The water's just shy of scalding, exactly how I like it. I try not to think about how much he’s seeing as he helps me tip back my head and let the water run through my hair without getting too much on the bandage.

"Hold still," he says, and gives the shower head a nudge so my hair is out of it, before he starts rubbing in shampoo. His strong fingers massage it into my scalp in a way that makes my knees weak. I put my hands against the tiled shower wall for support and close my eyes. It's easy to forget we’re completely naked when he's making me feel this good.

He rinses, keeping the water off my face with his hand, then reattaches the shower head. I try to move back into the stream, but he stops me. "Wait." Riot takes a cloth and squirts some body wash on it. The rough texture feels good on my back, and even better as he moves downwards over my hips and down my legs.

"That feels nice," I whisper.

"Good.” His voice is deep and raspy, more than usual.

I try not to think too hard about how he's got to be looking right at my butt when he's down low like that. The washcloth comes up the insides of my legs, but it's not until he passes my knees that I start getting nervous for real. Nervous, excited, tingly. Hot, not just from the shower, but from deep inside as well.

"Um…"

"Easy, girl, easy."

Swallowing hard, I step a little wider to give him room. He passes my knees and glides over the insides of my thighs. I close my eyes again, leaning into the wall so I don’t fall. Just as I think he's going to touch me between my legs, he veers back instead, sudsing up my butt. Part of me wishes desperately he continued all the way up instead of taking a detour, the other part of me relieved.

"You're being very thorough."

He's been rubbing my butt a lot more than it needs, I'm pretty sure. And it has an effect on me. I don't mean to push back against him, but I do anyway.

"This ass deserves a lot of attention," he says with a little laugh, and then he stands. He steps close, right up against me. Something thick and hard presses against the small of my back, and it takes a brief moment before I realize what it is. "You're poking me," I whisper.

He slides the washcloth up to right underneath my breasts. "With you in front of me, it's impossible not to. Is that too much?"

I deserve to live a little, don’t I? Heck, I deserve to live a lot. While I'm here, shouldn't I take everything I can get while I can?

"No. You're fine." I shake my head for emphasis. "Don't stop. Please."

"I fucking love it when you’re being good for me, but how about we see if being bad is even better?"