Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (20 page)

With trembling fingers, she undid the snap and zipper, shimmying out of her shorts and taking her panties with her. The arousal in his eyes made her smile. He needed her as much as she needed him.

He slid his hand between her thighs, sweeping his fingers over her pussy. "You're wet."

"You make me that way." She hooked her finger under the collar of his shirt, pulled down, and leaned forward.

The salty taste of his skin only made her anticipate his next touch more. She sucked on his collar bone, wondering where his fingers would land next and gasping when he lifted her feet off the floor. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, and brought his head to the base of her throat.

"God, yes," she hissed.

He pressed her against the smooth, cool surface of the fridge. "I'm taking you hard."

She arched her back and felt him at her entrance. "Yes."

He cupped her ass and plunged inside of her in one thrust. She cried out at the force and pleasure consuming her. Instant warmth filled her body. The muscles inside her pussy greedily spasmed, pulling him in, keeping him closer, wanting him never to leave.

He continued to lift and thrust into her, his harsh breath against her neck. Being so close to Jacko was scary and beautiful.

She was falling in love with a crazy felon who planned to stand in front of a jury and claim he was criminally insane. He never gave her the third reason for his decision to fool everyone in his life about his mental capacities, and it was that unknown reason that frightened her.

Jacko's head came up. She leaned her head forward, until their foreheads touched. His eyes filled with passion, or maybe her own eyes were blinded with her love for him. He left her in a constant flux of not knowing or recognizing what was good for her.

He pulled out slow, entered her hard. Her limbs shook with the exertion to hold on and never let him go. Her body betraying her thoughts, she joined him and laughed, ignoring the seriousness of their hurdles in front of them.

"I can't..." She screamed his name as the orgasm rode through her.

In return, he exploded inside of her.

They stayed entwined in each other's arms, until his legs trembled and his dick slipped out of her. He helped her down. She wobbled, holding on to his arms for balance.

Jacko took off the condom, tossed it in the garbage, and fastened his jeans. She gathered her clothes and put them back on in silence. Sex only self-medicated a growing problem.

Too exhausted to fight over him leaving, she let him kiss her goodbye and stood at the sliding glass door and watched him ride away from her.

T
he hedge blocked Jacko and his motorcycle from the fenced yard. Squinting his eyes, he watched the activities going on in front of him. Nothing changed. Everything stayed the same.

It was here where everything made sense in his head. His pulse evened out and his hands relaxed on his thighs. He needed the time to visit and focus on what he'd set out to do.

Around Amy, the doubts and fear invaded. He needed to remain strong and attentive. It wasn't only his life that was in danger. He had responsibilities and promises to keep.

The decisions he'd made for the last five years pounded in his heart, until he believed he could finish the job. That he could put those who killed Sarah in the ground and keep Amy safe.

He closed his eyes.

I claimed her. I held a pistol to my brothers at the meeting around the fire pit and warned them all to stay away from her, because she belongs to me. She thought I was crazy. It was the smartest decision I've made. I meant every word.

I love her. I never thought I'd let myself give a shit about anyone else, and here I am, tied up inside because caring about her puts her in greater danger and drunk on having her at my side.

She makes this fucked up life better. I never planned to feel for her. Just thinking about losing Amy leaves me sweating. I dream every damn night of men getting their hands on her, tormenting her, raping her, using her, and leaving her for dead. I'm afraid one of these nights I'll wake up and reach over for her and she'll be gone.

That fear enrages me. I want to kill everyone that threatens her. Only one week left, and I'll take the life of Veto Quijada before he even gets a taste of freedom. Then, I'll go after Flores. I only hope like fucking hell, I survive long enough to see this through. I need to make things safe, in case I don't get out of this alive or with my sanity.

I need Amy settled within the club. I can't come back to her, because what I've done will destroy her. She'll never forgive me.

B
ear handed Jacko a beer, slapped him on the shoulder, and stood beside him. Jacko brought the bottle to his mouth as Amy's hand found its way into his back pocket. He stared out at the woods, detached from the others surrounding the fire and focused on Amy's laughter as Lola talked about Jeremy's new boots she'd bought and Tiff's anger toward the Moroad woman for overstepping the line by buying her boyfriend something personal.

Apparently, Lola found Tiff's jealousy amusing and was on a mission to tell all the women about what happened. The endless chatter kept Amy occupied.

For the last couple of hours, Amy talked, paid attention to others, and let him space out to deal with the party at the motel, but not once had she let him go. If it wasn't her hand in his pocket, she leaned against him or hooked her finger around his pinky.

He took everything she gave him, and gave her nothing in return. Time ticked slowly. He constantly fought to keep his focus on taking out Quijada.

He wanted to join Amy in having a good time, to relax, and enjoy having her by his side and around his club in the chance he never made it back to her. His chosen family would be the ones taking care of her when he ended up dead or locked away.

Her selfless acts left him struggling, knowing his choice to involve her in his life would end up hurting her more.

Despite his fucked up ways, he lacked confidence in his ability to ever give himself fully to her. He couldn't. There was no possible way.

She brought something tangible into his life. A realness he hadn't even known he needed or wanted. Half dead from past mistakes, he'd settled into a routine and acted a certain way to protect himself from getting close to anyone else.

Fuck, he could taste the love Amy had for him. For her, he'd settle her within the club and provide a safe environment. Nobody would get another chance to hurt her, even him.

His eyes burned. His chest ached with the knowledge he couldn't protect her forever. It wasn't fair to keep her in the dark.

One day, he'd need to show her the rest of him, all of him. She was stronger than he gave her credit for. Her inner strength had him second-guessing his decision. She deserved more than he could give her and he held everything she wanted in his hands.

He had to finish the job and give her what she had no idea she wanted. Only then would he step back and leave her life.

When that day came, if a bullet or knife failed to take him, he'd lose her forever. She'd hate him enough to kill. No one understood the kind of anger and bitterness she'd develop over understanding and accepting the truth more than him. He deserved all the pain she could deliver.

As soon as he dealt with Quijada and killed Flores, he had to let Amy go. He'd rather give her a broken heart than destroy everything that made her special. Then he could slip back into the shadows and forget.

He only wanted to forget.

He needed to forget.

"Jacko has the same tattoo." Amy removed her hand from his pocket and latched on to Jacko's wrist, lifting his arm for Bear's inspection.

He turned to gaze at the location on his bicep where she pointed. A crude tat of a clock without hands.

Jacko lifted his gaze to Bear and spoke to Amy before she could ask her next question. "It means we've done time behind bars."

"Why does the clock on Bear's arm have the time of ten minutes after two?" she asked.

"I've done two ten-year sentences," Bear said, looking down at the fading green ink on his forearm.

Amy moved into Jacko's line of vision and held his gaze. "Why doesn't yours have hands?"

"Because time, incarcerated or free, doesn't mean anything to me," he said, turning away.

He walked toward the building, squatted, and leaned his back against the building. He lived in a damn motel, barely clean enough to be sanitary. She deserved more. Once he finished off Flores and Quijada, he'd have more time to slip away and earn more money. Hell, a couple armed robberies and he'd have enough to set her up somewhere. He'd help out with her rent until she got a job again and over time, she'd heal and go on with life without being shackled to him.

Amy walked over and leaned against the wall beside him. Around the others, she never forced him to talk and respected the space he needed. While his muscles flinched with the need to confess the very thing that would destroy her and fill the air with whatever popped into his head, she accommodated his need to continue with what he needed to do.

The guilt and his failure ate a hole in his gut.

Amy walked away without a word, grabbed a beer out of the cooler, and returned to his side. "Here."

He looked up at the offered drink. Her typical behavior of trying to take care of him, make him comfortable around the others, had him wishing she was a royal bitch. What he had to do would be easier if he could walk away from her without caring if he destroyed her.

He twisted the top off the bottle and drank long. Whiskey or Everclear would take the edge off. Beer only made him want her more.

"I wish we could get out of here. Just take a walk down the road or ride one of the backroads." She lowered her voice. "I miss my job, which is something I never thought I'd say. I don't know how many times I'd drive into work on a Monday and wish it was Friday because I had the weekends off."

Jacko gazed at the bottle dangling out of his hand. "What did you do?"

"I was a teller at a community credit union." She shrugged. "I wasn't in love with my job, but it was steady, and I had a decent income to count on every month."

Jacko stood arm to arm beside her, kicking his ass for not thinking about her life she lived in Montana. "You left in a hurry. Are there loose ends I need to fix?"

She turned to him. "People at my job aren't the problem I'm having, Jacko."

"No, but will they talk if questioned by Los Li?"

She frowned and shook her head. "I called and left a message with the district manager from the hotel before I left letting her know I had a family emergency out of state and was leaving my job."

"You have no family," Jacko said, knowing Los Li wouldn't fall for the excuse.

"I never talked much about my life with anyone after I moved. Not even my coworkers would question my reason for quitting. Besides, they're not allowed to share personal information with bank customers. It's confidential."

Jacko ran his hands through his hair, took his beanie out of his back pocket, and shoved it over his hair to keep the strands out of his eyes. "Everyone's got a price."

"Apparently." She sighed and walked to the edge of the concrete, whirled around, and said, "Take me out of here."

He shook his head. "Can't."

She sucked her lips between her teeth and looked to the right at the others. He'd seen many men totter on the verge of losing all common sense, and today had pushed Amy to the edge. The walls of the motel room closed in on her. Even the backyard became too small. She needed to get her mind off the mounting tension.

He pushed off the wall, gathered her in his arms, holding her head against his chest, and let himself talk. "Tomorrow, I'm going to ride out of Federal. I'll be gone for a while. When I get back, you'll have the freedom to walk down the road or go shopping. Whatever you want to do, nobody is going to hurt you. There won't be any reason for you to look over your shoulder or worry about people shooting at you."

Her body stiffened, and she pushed against his hold to raise her head. "You're leaving me?"

"Yeah, Momma." He inhaled deeply. "I'm going to make your world safe. When I'm done, you won't have to worry about Los Li touching your life again."

The patch he wore, the colors he flew, his club would finish the job if he ended up dead. Moroad would seek retaliation on his behalf, guaranteeing Amy's safety. They'd watch over her and as his widow, provide financially for her. The same would happen if his ass got caught, and he landed in prison. The thought of living with his punishment, without finishing the job, was worse than death.

If he got lucky and made it out alive, he'd set her up wherever she wanted to go. He'd give her a better life. A life she deserved and had never received. She'd gone through too many deaths, too many hardships, and needed space to breathe and take care of herself, instead of everyone else.

"You're not planning on coming back to me," she whispered, digging her fingers into his arms.

"Yeah, I'm coming back." He laughed, and even to him the sound came out wrong. "There's nothing to worry about. You'll stay here with Bear and Johnson, drive them crazy for a change, and in less than a week, I'll be here."

She stepped back, shaking her head. "You're lying."

"I'm not—"

"Stop." She closed her eyes, holding in the pain, and when she opened them again, he groaned.

The only time he'd seen all hope disappear from her eyes, he'd sat her down and explained how Sarah's life ended in Mexico. Total despair had ripped her breath out of her body, and he was responsible for her loss as if he'd killed Sarah with his bare hands.

"You're not coming back, and it has to do with the third reason you want everyone to believe you're crazy," she stated. "Keep your secrets, but don't lie to me."

He stared at her feet. Lies had always come easier for him. The truth caused other people pain. He'd rather Amy believe he was an asshole for leaving her than go on believing he could ever make her happy. She'd been right all along. He was damaged.