Vicious Heart (Desert Kings MC #2)

13. Riley

thirteen

Riley

I knew from the bar, and the peckerwoods, what would happen if I told him what Lance had done. Even as angry and scared as I was, I couldn’t unleash that sort of violence—not on anyone. Not because I cared what happened to Lance. I didn’t. What would it cost Cam to go to that dark place again?

The secret Cam had shared with me, what he was capable of, blazed in his blue eyes. I flicked a nervous glance to Lance, to make sure he understood, hoping the idiot would keep his big mouth shut.

That unconscious motion was all it took for Cam to know . He rounded on Lance, his eyes wild. “You put your fucking hands on my girl?”

Lance did a stumbling crabwalk backward and slammed against the wall. Nowhere to go.

Cam jerked him up by his shirtfront, leaving him struggling to balance on tiptoes. “You put fucking marks on mine?”

“I…I…di…didn’t know, I’m sorry,” he spit and sputtered, his voice breaking like he was going to cry. Around me, several of the frat boys were sniveling and in tears as Jester straightened, blowing hair out of his face, blood splattered on his shirt.

“Nah, shit stain, but you’re about to be.” There was emotion in Cam’s voice, too. Rage threaded through each syllable until he no longer sounded like the man I knew.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, as everything happened in slow motion. Cam released him and shoved the pistol in the holster at his side, under his vest.

Lance sneered at me, like he’d just won something. He was very wrong.

Cam jerked off his belt with a snap and looped it around Lance’s neck before he could register the motion. Violence like this wasn’t new to Cam. Violence against a man of equal measure wasn’t new to him.

Cam didn’t prey upon those he saw weaker. But this would be an easy fight.

With a flick of Cam’s wrist, the leather snapped tight. Lance’s cruel, overconfident smile vanished. Gone was the jerk that would have raped my friend, the man who would have hurt me.

He wasn’t the one getting off on the power now.

There’s always a bigger fish .

I stumbled to keep up with Cam as he dragged Lance out of the house. The other man was on his back, kicking, flailing and clutching at the belt where it cut off his oxygen. His face turning redder and redder as he bounced off the furniture, the floor, and the door frame. The asshole flopped down the steps behind Cam like a half dead carp.

One of the guys on his knees jumped up like he’d make a move to stop Cam.

But Jester was there, tossing him back down and punching him in the face twice. Then he shook a finger at the others and tsked. “Careful.”

I watched the entire scene in a strange sort of awe. When Lance had grabbed me, choked me, he hadn’t given a shit about Kenna or any of these women. He was one beer away from killing me. Why should I care about him?

Out in the night air, the watery daze I’d been in snapped to crystal clarity. Cam stopped on the lawn, put his foot on Lance’s back, and pulled the belt impossibly tight, stretching Lance’s neck back at such a painful level I glanced away to gather myself.

The gagging sounds Lance had made before changed to an awful squeaky sound. I forced myself to open my eyes and watch this—what? This was no fight.

It was torture.

Cam didn’t release him until his face turned purple and his lips were blue. Lance rolled, unable to do anything but choke and puke.

“You’re going to learn never to touch what belongs to me.” Cam knelt in front of him and jerked his face up by the hair. “And all of your little friends are going to learn not to put their hands on a woman.”

It was then I realized we had an audience. The frat guys Dekes had babysat had been marched out onto the grass. The girls were being shuffled by a still bloodied Jester to the far end of the porch. Even after everything he’d just done, he flirted with them.

Cam dropped Lance and turned to where Merc had walked out of the house, wiping blood from his knuckles. “Jester said they put all the girls’ phones in a bag.”

“Find Kenna and Riley’s. Let the other girls have theirs back and make sure they get home.”

As he said it, a cop car pulled into the drive, blue lights on but no sirens. Puck appeared from a chair in the shadows, cradling a barely conscious Kenna. He took the steps more gingerly than I thought the big man could and carried her to the cop car, laying her in the passenger’s seat.

I recognized the cop as the deputy from Archer’s funeral.

Cam glanced up at Jester as he strolled across the grass. Cam’s face was cold and hard. “Fuck it. Drag these mother fuckers, then toss them in the river.”

Chest heaving Cam practically bled anger. The emotion was so visceral I could see it in waves of red that ebbed and flowed and touched everything around him. He pushed his belt through the hoops of his jeans with deliberate motions, looking everywhere but at me. Like he was frightened of what I would see.

I should be scared, but I’d never been so turned on in all my life. Cameron Savage might have written Lance’s death warrant tonight. There was a power in the fact that he’d kill for me. That power was so terrible and amazing I should run far away and never look back.

Never .

Wading through those waves of red, I went to him, and wrapped my arms about his middle. His pulse beat violently against my lips when I kissed the hollow at the base of his throat.

The night air blistered hot, white, and almost painfully through me. It was like only Cam could cool that fire. I pulled at my shirt and rubbed against him. I was safe. He’d come for me. Cam was here. I stretched to taste his lips. I sank into that kiss, melted against him, and soaked up all that red.

I wanted him, all of him, the violence and everything that came with what he felt for me.

The kiss was all heat and tongue; mine against his, him tipping my head back to take more. Then he broke away, shoving me a few inches from him, but clung to my hips.

“Baby,” he whispered, breathless, sounding much the same way he did when he was inside me.

I whimpered a moan.

“Me too.” And for the first time, the violence in his expression ebbed, replaced by something equally as hungry.

He dragged me by the hand to where Merc dumped the basket of phones on the ground and lit them up with his flashlight. Puck knelt and fished out Kenna’s.

“Get yours,” Cam commanded quietly.

I did, bending over and grabbing it with my free hand. Cam wasted no time tugging me toward his bike.

His leather clad back was solid and strong as I slid forward on the seat and all but climbed on top of him. Then the engine roared to life between my thighs. The vibration had never felt like that before. The reverberation was sexual and arousing as it hummed against me.

Cam tore out of the yard and onto the highway. My nipples were hard, tingling through the thin material of my bra as I raked them against the patches on the back of his cut. It was like I wore nothing and too much all at the same time.

I ran my hands down his chest, over his stomach, to his lap. My left hand caught on the hard ridge there, his cock straining against the denim. He was as aroused as I was.

Maybe it wasn’t just the drugs making me this hot.

I stroked him there, up and down the length of his erection, and was rewarded when his cock jumped and the throttle lagged as his hand slipped.

This was a different type of power. Cam covered my hand with his left, slowed my strokes, and sped up on the bike. The wind, the light of the moon cascading over the desert, and the power of the engine humming between my legs only stoked my need.

I rolled my hips forward against the seat, the slightest of motions, pressing me against Cam’s back and pulling the fabric tight across my slit. The vibration rolling through the fabric and across my clit. Over and over, faster and faster, until Cam gripped my hand tight, watching me in quick glances in the mirror by moonlight.

I came, an explosion of color and feeling as I clung to him. I cried out, clutching his cock with one hand and his hip with the other. I swore I could hear him growl as he slowed near an outcropping of short trees and bushes. He turned onto a long forgotten, eroded driveway. I nearly cheered when he stopped the bike and cut the engine.

Anywhere was good for me if it meant his hands were on me, his cock inside me.

Every detail was sharp and specific. It felt as if my entire body was covered in a soft, heady type of cotton—all arousal and desire.

The bushes had grown up and half hid an old, busted tractor. Several feet behind it was a steel trailer on blown out tires. Both were long forgotten by whoever had left them here.

Cam hopped off, picked me up, and sat me on the edge of the trailer. His blond hair was mussed, rebelling, and falling forward into his face, as reckless and wild as he was.

The urgency to touch him, to be touched by him, consumed me. I grabbed at his jeans and tugged at his belt.

“No,” he panted, trembling. “Did you come on my bike?”

I nodded fast, kissed him hotly as he jerked my shorts and panties off, pulling me to the edge of the trailer and pushing my thighs apart.

Cam ripped his lips from mine and kissed my neck. His lips erasing the bruising that someone else had put there. “I need…to taste you,” he said between kisses and then dropped to his knees, not giving me a change to protest.

Not that I wanted to.

His mouth was hot and wicked on my pussy. He kissed me there, with tongue and lips, and brushes of his teeth. Long. Slow. Deliberate. It felt…amazing and maddening all at once.

Whatever hesitation I’d had before about letting him go down on me was long gone. Pleasure shot up from my core. I leaned back on my elbows, face turned up to the night sky, and let that pleasure cover me in color and sensation.

Cam licked and sucked at me, running his tongue over every inch of my cunt. Like he was trying to drink up every inch of me. And all I wanted was to explode again. For all that pleasure, all that sensation, to combust for him. Because of him.

Every fiber of my being told me he could make that happen, knew at a primal level I just needed his mouth in one certain place.

I bucked against him, and Cam gripped my hips and held them to the trailer, keeping me still.

“Please.” I shook with need, somehow more intense than I’d ever imagined possible.

Cam cast his blue eyes up at me. The moon was so bright I could plainly see the determined mischief glinting in them. He watched me writhe and beg.

“Say it, darlin’.” He licked his lips with a slow flick of his tongue.

And I knew he tasted me.

“Make me come.”

His response was to flick his hot, wet tongue over my clit. I bucked so hard against his hands he chuckled against my slit, his long fingers digging into the sides of my ass as he pulled me fully to his face.

Over and over, he drove me mad with that tongue. Was it the Molly? Or just him? I didn’t know, but the onslaught of sensation was amazing. I bucked with it, ground my hips against him, and clutched at his hair.

I came again, crying out into the night with Cam making sexy, starving noises against my pussy.

When he stood, I was still wracked with tremors, all my muscles clutching tight. All the reds were gone now. Only my Cam remained, breathing hard and bathed in a pale white light, shadows dancing over his features. His anger abated.

He shrugged out of his cut and grabbed me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Though his movements were aggressive and fast, he was gentle when he laid me on the ground on his leather, patch side up so that it never touched the ground.

“I can’t wait, baby. Not another second.”