16. Riley

sixteen

Riley

The loud, resonating rumble of a Harley throttling up the driveway broke through the fog of sleep. It was dark now. We'd slept most of the day, wrapped up in each other. Cam kissed the back of my neck before sliding from the bed and padding naked to the window.

I openly watched, enjoying the view of lean muscle as he peeked out the blinds before coming back.

"It's Merc." He flipped up his phone and checked. "Fuck. I slept through his calls."

"I didn't even hear the others leave." I stretched beneath the sheet, enjoying the slight soreness between my thighs. I wasn't a virgin anymore. One glance at Cam and I knew I could have picked a worse first time.

Cam grinned, flicked on the light, and leaned over the bed enough to kiss me. Gentle and chaste turned quickly into something else as I tugged him closer. "You're going to get me in trouble." He pulled away and yanked on a pair of jeans.

"How's that?"

Something in my question stopped him. He stood there and tilted his head, studying me as if he didn't quite know how much to say. He chose to let the silence linger and turned back to his dresser. I didn't like the way he didn't answer, the way some dark cloud hovered over him all of the sudden.

We'd been intimate, slept together. How was I going to get him in trouble?

"What's going on? What are you not telling me?" I scrambled from the bed and got dressed. It felt like I needed armor to have this conversation.

He was pulling a white t-shirt over his head by the time I'd rounded the foot of the bed. "Wait in here. I'll be right back."

"No." I was trembling, but not from fear. "If this…" I gestured between him and the bed. "…is a problem, I need to know so I can make sure it doesn't happen again." Hot, mad tears threatened.

He sucked his bottom lip into his teeth and narrowed his eyes, his jaw tight. "I'm not asking you to hide from Merc."

"Aren't you?"

He stalked across the room so fast I didn't have time to brace myself when he pulled me against his chest.

"No. But whatever he's coming here to say to me, he ain't going to say in front of you." He looked down at me, lips tight. "Just give me ten goddamn minutes, okay?"

The strength of him pressed against me, shoved away all the other emotions. His body was warm, mine responded, and I held myself perfectly still to keep from rubbing against him like some sex starved groupie.

"I deserve to know what I'm getting into."

He released me with a sigh and two loud, firm knocks sounded on the door.

"We can talk about it later." And he walked out, in bare feet, pausing long enough to grab his smokes before shutting the front door behind him.

I wasn't hiding because he was ashamed of me, I told myself as I padded quietly into the living room. I was hiding because I was nosy. The past week had moved fast, different from the steady trod of screwed up news my life had been before.

It was messed up that a man had to die for my life to get better. The guilt churned away in my stomach. I shouldn't be enjoying any of this and yet…

Screwing up my nose, I knelt on the arm of the gray couch and leaned toward the window. I could make out their lower halves through the blinds, but just barely. Merc had walked to the railing and they both stood there, talking.

Club business wasn't any of mine, and I knew I shouldn't be skulking about trying to listen in. Halfway to standing, convinced to go back to the bedroom and mind my own `business, I heard my name.

But if it's about you…

"She should be asleep." Cam said. "She seems to be doing alright."

"I bet." I couldn't see him, but the sarcasm in Merc's voice was clear.

"Is it a problem?" Something cold and hard snaked into Cam's voice, making my skin heat.

Would I always have that sort of reaction to him, or was it just because we'd had sex?

"Nah, man." Merc's ambivalent tone said, I don't care . The railing creaked, like he'd leaned against it. "I like her."

Good, because I liked him too.

Cam mumbled something I couldn't make out. I pressed my body against the door now, listening hard.

"You trust her?"

"Enough." Cam's answer was quick and noncommittal.

That stung. He trusted me enough to have sex with me, to sleep in the bed with me.

"Preach is real interested." Merc's words were so quiet I almost couldn't make them out.

But Cam's laugh rang loud and clear. "What the fuck about? Everything I've done since I was a teenager has been for the fucking club. That shit ain't changed. He's paranoid."

"Any reason to be?"

"Maybe."

More mumbles I couldn't make out, which left me time to question what Preacher would be after Cam about. Could Cam have something on him? Should I be concerned about Cam?

"Talked to Ky tonight." Merc's voice was hushed, but I could make it out. "He's got girls that work that motel we found Archer at, wants to know if he needs to be concerned."

"He doesn't."

Dylan had told me Archer's death was an apparent suicide. This motel stuff would probably be something else Cam was keeping from me. Maybe I should put it on the list to ask the lawyer about.

Who was Ky? As much as I wanted to listen, to find out more about how Archer died, I went back to the bedroom then. There was a cold, haunting tone in Cam's voice that I wanted nothing to do with. A reminder that here, with these people, I was out of my league.

When Cam came back in, I was flipping through social media photos of high school acquaintances. I hadn't posted anything since Mom's funeral announcement. There hadn't been anything to say. And now?

There's too much.

I ignored all the questions that burned my tongue more than I ignored him, waiting until I could no longer hear Merc's bike before saying anything. "There are a few things I really need to know." I stood, feeling like doing so made me seem more assertive.

"Alright." He leaned against the dresser. I tried not to notice the way the thin material of the t-shirt pulled tight around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"How am I going to get you in trouble?" That was the easy one. Or should be.

He grinned, unfolding his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Darlin, even now I want to throw you back on that bed for the rest of the night, bury my face between your thighs, and stay there until neither of us can say a fucking word."

As he advanced, I scurried backwards until the mattress hit the back of my knees and I sat on reflex. When he said it like that, the mental image made my mouth, and other things, water. I couldn't even remember my question.

He was going to do things to me that I never imagined.

Cam kissed me, his lips hot and urgent, tasting faintly of the menthol cigarette he'd smoked. Jesus, how was that even hot? Losing myself in his kiss made it easy to forget everything except where I was and who I was with. It was as if my very being was consumed by Cam the second his tongue brushed against mine.

But he'd said we'd talk and we weren't talking.

Nothing pissed me off more than being placated. Dylan's words about how we weren't allowed to know things, still played in my head.

Cam was an expert at distraction. Making out with me, hovering over me, and leaning me back on the bed. All of this was his version of a magician's trick, outlaw biker sleight of hand. I wasn't about to fall for it again, no matter how good he tasted.

I pressed my hand to his chest and pushed. Cam moved, pulling away and straightening, closing his fingers around my wrist. His thumb stroked an absent rhythm over the top of my hand.

"Did Archer really kill himself?"

There was a flash of acknowledgment, a brief lightening of his blue eyes that told me he didn't think so. Not that he thought Archer wasn't capable of suicide, but that something bigger was going on here.

I grew cold, my desire rapidly abating. Pushing past him, I collected my bag. "I'm going to go back to the house."

"Why's that?" The annoyance on his face creased his brow but did little to dampen his appeal.

I shrugged, shouldering the bag. "Because this was a bad idea."

"Darlin, everything about me is." His voice was tired, resigned, and stopped me before I could walk out of the room.

"My mistake."

"Was it?"

No.

"I don't know. I can't figure out what you want from me. You won't tell me anything, but you take me to meet a woman Archer was close with, someone important. You boss me around and then make love to me." I turned to him, frustrated and fed up. "Having sex with you wasn't the mistake, thinking you thought more of me than Krystal or one of the other groupies was."

"I do." He pushed his hand through his hair and shifted around the dresser. If I'd given him room to pace, he probably would have, but I blocked the door. "There are parts of my life I can never tell you—that I won't bring you into. Hell, you barely know me, much less this life ."

"But some of it is about me, directly affects me ."

"Like what?" There was a flash of vulnerability on his face when I took another step back, almost fully in the other room now.

He followed me, filling the doorway until I backed into the room. It was like an oddly sexy game of cat and mouse. If I ran for the door, would he run after me, grab me, jerk me against his chest again? Or would he stand there and watch me go?

I hated myself because I hoped he'd chase me and was tempted to find out.

"Are you serious? Someone broke into the house I'm staying in. I could have been there, alone. If you think someone murdered Archer, I deserve to know. It means something could happen to me too now."

His entire body turned to steel. "I'd never let anything happen to you."

"You're not invincible, Cam."

"You think I can't protect you?" He pushed his hand through his hair again and cussed under his breath. "Shit is sideways right now, both inside the club and out. But the one thing I know—I'd kill someone before they got close to you."

I balked at the passion in his voice.

"Trust me, darlin, you ain't been alone yet. You wouldn't have been."

"Even with your two…friends here?"

His face darkened. "Even then."

He was in front of me, long fingers tilting my chin up before I could prepare myself for his touch. "You feel it, too, don't you? You know damn well I was thinking about you the entire time. That's the problem, sweetheart. I need to think, to figure it all out. I can't when I'm with you, inside you. Everything goes away but you."

Whatever argument I'd had, whatever I'd been upset about, vanished. I trembled, standing there.

"I promise you. There's never been another woman that got inside my head like you. It's dangerous. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Hear me?"

Every word.

He kissed me, softly sucking my bottom lip in between his before snaking his tongue into my mouth. He plundered, taking with his tongue dancing around mine. I dropped the bag and clung to his hips. The kiss making it so easy to forget the things Merc had said on the porch.

I wanted to know more about how Archer died, but this wasn't the way to find out.

He pulled away, breathing heavy. " We can go back to the house. Until I find out who broke in, figure this all out, I'm keeping you close."

I nodded. He'd get no argument from me. I was relieved that he wouldn't let me go back alone. No matter how weak that made me feel.

I steadied myself as he collected his stuff and shrugged into his cut.

"What happens if your club finds out we slept together?"

He grinned. "Nothing. Except Jester can't flirt with you anymore."

At the door, he dropped a soft kiss to my lips. "Tomorrow night AP's cooking lasagna at his place. Wanna go?"

"Like a family dinner?" Those words put me in the mind of thirty-minute sitcoms, where families gathered around a kitchen table in some off-color kitchen to complain about the day. Cam didn't fit into that mold; none of them did. I lifted my brow as he opened the door and held it for me.

"Fewer people than at the clubhouse. We eat, have a few beers. No groupies." He pulled the door shut behind me. "I can't tell you everything, not now. But…"

He could give me this part of himself. I was good enough for family dinner. "You mean I can come out of hiding now?" It was a low blow, but no matter what he said, I was still running on high emotions. No one told me confusion and anger could be byproducts of my first orgasms.

"Ain't my place to tell anyone shit about you." He stopped at the bottom of the steps and shoved his belt through the loops of his loose fitting, dark wash jeans. "You want everyone in town to think we're fucking—I'm all for it. But I don't kiss and tell."

His smirk was as hot as it was annoying.

"I never know if I want to hit you or kiss you." The railing creaked when I leaned against it, stopping short of groaning or hitting him.

"Yeah, I have that effect." He eyed me up and down. "But if you want to skip dinner and spend the next few days alone with me, I'm all for that, too."

I couldn't help but laugh and blush a little. "To be honest, AP's lasagna sounds great."

Anything to put distance between what he'd just done to me, what I wanted him to do, and the secrets that were piling up.

***

Full access to a private bathroom was one of those weird things people take for granted. I did, for sure. Until I'd spent time living out of my car and only showering at the gym.

My makeup was spread out across the counter. I'd used my hair straightener, and it was put up on a shelf with my styling products. Maybe not mine, but Archer's house was starting to feel like somebody's home. Or at least a place where I could pretend—if only for a little while.

Cam and I had spent almost twenty-four hours pretending. Not much of that time talking. And I was okay with that. Making love to him, again and again, was as thrilling as the first time. Then we'd slept late, and he'd made me breakfast.

If I stopped to think about it, then deep down, it all felt wrong. Because I wasn't supposed to be here, wouldn't be here long.

Our lives were very different.

I was faking a lot of things. Well, not one thing. I still didn't know what to do with it. Cam Savage wasn't anyone's boyfriend, but I'd never considered myself the type of girl who just…did things like that.

I wasn't exactly a girl anymore, either. I was a grown woman. And as such, could do whatever the hell I liked with my body. And I'd liked that a lot. Too much, probably. And intended to keep doing it so long as I was here.

That thought was thrilling in a way I hadn't expected, making me warm and tingly all the way down to my toes.

Evenings cooled off quickly, so I wore a short, cropped short sleeved shirt that showed off about an inch of bare stomach before the hem of my high waisted jeans.

Cam waited for me on the carport, leaned against the seat of his bike, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, smoking a cigarette and scrolling through something on his phone.

Cam's slow look started at my feet and traveled all the way to meet my gaze. The warm, sexy flicker in his eyes was both a reminder and a promise. I shivered with anticipation about six seconds before silent awkwardness settled over me. Unsure what to do with my hands, I shoved them in my pockets.

He hadn't said specifically that I was riding with him. I'd assumed, because I wanted to. And now he was looking at me expectantly.

"Am I following you? I wasn't sure, since I've never been to APs, I didn't know if we were going together—"

"We'll ride." He rubbed his lips together, half distracted, and stood. "Wait here."

He made quick work of the steps up to his apartment and came jogging back down them quickly, something black and leather in his hand.

"Let's try this." He held out a worn, short jacket. There'd been patches on it at one time. You could see the small indentions where they'd been sewn on.

I moved, allowing Cam to slip it over my shoulders, and then spin me around to zip it. The weight of the leather was heavy, and it smelled cool and woodsy. It was a little long, hanging to my pockets and just over my thumbs, but it fit.

"Whose is it?"

He ran his knuckles down the front of it, his face quiet. Almost like he wasn't sure what was happening. "Mine. Yours now, darlin." He stepped back to examine his handy work and this time, whatever had bewildered him was gone.

"Thanks." I didn't tell him about the tingling sensation in my chest. Neither of the two women he'd booted from his apartment last night were wearing anything of his. But I was.

With a tie I pulled from my pocket, I twisted my hair at the nape of my neck as he put the helmet on me. The swing of his denim clad leg over the bike was sexy. Pretty much everything he did was. I climbed on behind him and settled onto the seat.