Obsession (A Bad Boy's Secret Baby) (28 page)

“Good job,” he chuckled.

Flushing, I hid my smile. “Will you tell me who those guys were?”

Sipping the drink, Ronin's throat worked. I watched the muscles flex, enjoying the sight, feeling myself growing thirsty for something else. Something more solid than water. “Just my past catching up with me.”

“Were they the Knights of the whatever?”

“No,” he said, smiling sideways. “At least, not directly. I was right though, Lucky did put a bounty on my head.”

It wasn't much of an answer, but I was too tired to probe further. Getting the full truth out of Ronin was exhausting.

“You did a lot of good tonight.” His voice was tender.

It pulled me back, our eyes meeting. “I did what I had to.”

Ronin's teeth shone in the firelight. “Don't we all.”

Unsure what to say, I stared into the flames.

“She really taught you to ride?”

I willed the glowing dots in my eyesight to go away. Ronin had his mouth set in a curious line. “Yeah,” I said, smiling at the thought. “She got a motorcycle years ago. Her pride and joy.”

He mulled that over, the rim of the bottle to his lips. “The one in your photo.” It was a simple statement, not a question.

I nodded. “I don't know what happened to it. It was missing back home. Now that I think about it... I'm sure Fiddle took it, dumped it or sold it to make it look like she drove off. The cops were sure convinced.” My chuckle was as hollow as a drum. “She loved that thing. Took it everywhere, and me with her. Once, she let me drive us for miles. Up to this part of the woods, where I'd never even been before. We sat there and listened to the birds, the peace. It was beautiful.”

My eyes watered at the memory; I willed them to stop. “She said we'd leave together, one day. Just her and me... riding across the country. No burdens.” The implication was massive. I was reminded of what my sister had done for me, what she'd endured... and what she'd sacrificed.

Was she alright? Was she locked up somewhere in Miami, wasting away, being used by awful men? Or had she been shipped elsewhere already?

Ronin took another drink. “She sounds like a good kid.”

That shook me from my painful reverie. Cocking my head, I considered his words. “Good kid. As in, not a junkie?”

His simple glance stopped my heart. “People can be good and still do bad shit, Flora. Sometimes you can't choose between being a saint and a sinner. Sometimes the choice is thrust upon you and you just have to make the best of it.”

With the night hours cloaking us, the ambiance sank. I wasn't cold, but I still shuddered, my knees tucking to my chest. Ronin slid between casual humor and somberness as easily as water dripped through my fingers.

Closing my eyes, I debated on a way to make him understand. Claudine wasn't a sinner. She was flawed, but she couldn't be both good and bad... and I
knew
she wasn't bad.

“Afghanistan.”

It was a single word. It made me sit up straight. “What?”

“Afghanistan,” he said again, looking into the fire. “You asked what I did before I was in the club.” The edges of his eyes sharpened.

“You were a soldier?” I would never have guessed. I associated the army with stiff, rule following protectors of the innocent.

But then...

Ronin
had
protected me.

Afraid he would stop talking, I held my tongue and waited. I was rewarded by his rumbling words. “A friend of mine, an Afghan translator I'd known for the better part of a year, was out on patrol with us. He and I fell behind and went down the wrong alley to catch up. We were ambushed.” Ronin made a fist, his knuckles shining. “He was wounded. Shot in the leg... The firefight nearly killed us both. Bullets were coming from both buildings, we were completely surrounded. I'm still not sure how I got us both out of there, but I did. I saved his life. My
friend
.”

How could he sound so bitter about that?

It was as if he wasn't even talking to me anymore. “A week later, he came back to base with a cast over his leg, claiming he was ready to get back to work. They searched him, like they did for everyone entering the base, but they didn't check him well enough. My friend had his leg amputated and had hid a bomb in the cast, knowing they wouldn't check it. He walked into the busy mess hall during lunch and detonated. Dozens of good men were killed or wounded.”

The kindling popped, making my pulse skip.

He whispered, “I saved the man that went on to kill my comrades.”

Ronin strangled the plastic bottle absently. I imagined what he was seeing in the embers. Was it himself burning away, or his friends?

“It wasn't your fault,” I said gently.

He still didn't look at me. Across his lips, a tormented smile peeled free. “I was at the gate that day when he came back to base, I vouched for him because I trusted him. Trust...” His chuckle was black. “They sent me home with an 'honorable' discharge for it. Saints and sinners.”

This revelation was opening my mind, and my heart. I was so busy with my own suffering, I'd never considered what tragedies a man like Ronin had endured. The hard claws of empathy ravaged my guts. Suddenly, everything about this biker made sense to me.

Reaching out, I clasped his forearm. A magnetic rush slid between us, sparking our awareness. I saw it happen for him, too, those gorgeous irises focusing on my surprised face.

“You couldn't have known,” I said softly, earnestly. “But your good deed isn't wasted just because another man chose a terrible path.”

Ronin's stare was intense, pushing me down into the earth. “Here I am, a killer, standing by a campfire with a beautiful woman, while better men—
brothers, even—
are below ground somewhere because of my choices. Does that seem fair to you?”

Of course it didn't seem fair, but since when was the world fair? If I knew anything at all, it was that life didn't care where you weighed in on the scales. My own life was proof of that.

But somehow, faced with his dilemma, I couldn't let such a cynical thing be said.

I clutched his hand, squeezing. “Maybe you still have some saintly things to do.”

In the hard lighting, the corners of his lips looked deeper, lusher. His skin was crimson, like he'd stolen the heat of the fire, letting it dance over his flesh where it belonged.

Sliding my fingers to his wrist, I noticed how true that was. Ronin was burning up, a beacon that called to me the way nothing else ever had.

I didn't know if I was a helpless moth, fluttering towards a candle... or if we were both just creatures crashing to our own destruction together.

That time, I was the one to kiss him.

Outside the diner, he'd tasted like fresh air, freedom and ice. It had been a refreshing thing, waking me up from my toes and onward. This kiss, though... I swear the flames slid out of him, crawling over my tongue until I was sweating.

I wanted to say something, anything. To ask him why we were doing this, what he was after, why he was helping me or following me or doing any of the things he had. Ronin hadn't lied, men were after his blood. I'd witnessed that tonight.

Being out in the open with me was a risk to him.

So why was he bothering?

What
were
we now?

And what would we become?

Our noses brushed; I pulled back, seeking enough oxygen to settle my floating brain. He made me light, airy. Only the weight of my heart kept me from flying into the night sky.

“Wait,” I whispered against his teeth.

Wrapping his fingers in my loose hair, he forced me closer. “No. No more waiting, darlin'. I've been waiting too long already.”

Trembling, I slid my chest against his, heartbeat pounding madly. “It's only been a few hours since we first kissed. That's not very long.”

Capturing the nape of my neck, Ronin grazed his teeth down my throat. My goosebumps became mountains. Tilting my chin back, he kissed my jugular—felt the way it drummed. “Flora, since this started, I've measured my existence in borrowed time. A few hours might as well be a lifetime, and in this lifetime... you're all I can think about.”

Everything around me shrank until I could see only his smile. That wonderful, ever present smile.

Bending into me, he said, “I can't wait any longer.”

He was speaking in a way I couldn't fully grasp. The film cloaking my skull was too thick, or maybe it was our constant running from danger, but...

I thought what he'd said was the most romantic thing I'd ever heard.

Reaching for his shirt, I pulled it up. My gasp had him smirking along the side of my jaw. “Don't faint on me yet,” he said. “That comes later.”

My tongue was too thick to make words. Ronin was cut like a gem, rows of muscles leading across his torso, everything heightened by the swirls of black ink and occasional ridge of a scar.

He was impossibly sexy.

And he was all mine.

He helped remove the rest of his clothes until he was sitting in just his jeans. Firelight made his flesh glossy. Touching a palm to his chest, I ran my nails down, enjoying how he inhaled briskly.

Clasping my wrist, he said, “My turn.”

I got the hint and started to slide my jacket off. Ronin squeezed my arm to stop me. Meeting his heated stare, I gleaned his intention; he didn't want my help.

Shutting my eyes, I arched into his touch while he stripped me. His deft fingers scooped under my shirt, peeling me like a grape, revealing my skin. I didn't have tattoos or scars like him, but perhaps I was unique in my own, unmarred way.

His subtle growl said he thought so.

I was blinded when the clothing came over my head. Blinking, I looked up into the vortex of his eyes. The air around this man was resonating, demanding I never stop paying attention. Never had anyone—anything—in my life felt so paramount.

“You're beautiful,” he breathed. I flushed pink, and he saw it spread over my chest. The edges of his eyes crinkled. “Don't go getting shy on me.”

“I'm not.” Reaching back, I tugged my bra free, wanting him to understand I was in control of my actions. His sly grin and open appreciation made me shift on the ground.

I expected him to reach for my breasts. They were firm because of the cold, but even more so from my desire.

Ronin avoided them, cupping my skull, leading me to his hungry mouth. This time, when we kissed, I saw my own veins glowing behind my eyelids.

Our naked bodies caressed together, hard muscle on my yielding skin. I couldn't bite back a groan, enduring a new rush of arousal. The tension building in my lower belly was bordering on painful; I wanted this man so badly, and I had no reason to deny it any longer.

He collapsed around me in the grass, shielding me from the light. When I looked up, past his temple, I saw the spray of stars above. His gaze burned fiercer than they dared.

Between us, the rough material of our jeans scraped. I couldn't see, I just felt the rigid, massive shape of his erection. The playfulness in his smile taunted me.

It reminded me of my awful seduction ploy at the bed and breakfast.

Thinking of that night, how I'd come so close to freeing his hungry cock from his pants, I bit my cheek. I wasn't proud of my deception.

This would be different.

Gliding my palm down, I fumbled with his belt. He copied me, unhooking my brass button, our zippers slicing the night air as one. The hard thump of my gun was out of place among our activities. Ronin tossed it aside.

Shimmying my pants down my ankles, Ronin sat up on his knees. As he did, I saw the elastic top of his boxers. The outline of his thick cock was as good as a lighthouse. I gawked at it, at him, and he just watched me in his amused way.

Eagerly, I pushed a finger to his hip, running it along the seam of his boxers. Then I went further, trailing my touch down the entire length of his shaft. Beneath the cotton, his cock twitched. “Holy hell,” I mumbled, shaking.

“Let's leave the higher powers out of it.” Flexing back on his heels, he rolled his arms behind his head. I saw every tendon along his ribs flaring, the man was formed from genuine marble. “You're all mine tonight.”

Those words were a dark purr. His deep pupils turned his joke into a promise he meant to keep.

The thrum in my chest warned me not to doubt him.

Sitting up, I kissed his shoulder, the corner of his lips. One of his fingertips brushed down my belly, resting on the rim of my panties. I ached for him to explore further, I knew he wanted to; his flesh was pulsing under mine. We had enough kinetic energy to power a fucking rocket.

Finally I blurted, “You're killing me here.”

Laughing, his tone was as luxurious as caramel and silver mixing together. “There are worse ways to die.”

I was ready to argue, wriggling in my compounding lust. He didn't make me try to convince him; Ronin pushed me back, hiking my hips up so that my ankles were by his ears. The abrupt nearness of my pussy to his sharp smirk stole my air.

Lifting an eyebrow, he inhaled, nostrils flaring. His enjoyment was clear, his cock arching through his boxers against my thigh. Rolling my panties down, he exposed me to the breeze. I was soaked, there was no way to hide it.

Like a man who'd suffered for weeks fasting, he dove in, nuzzling the inner part of my thigh. His stubble itched my silky skin, making me hyper aware of each breath he took. Spreading me with his thumbs, Ronin kissed right above my swollen clit. “When I fuck you, you're going to scream,” he said flatly.

Blinking, I writhed helplessly. “No, I can be quiet, no one will hear us—ah!” I squealed, his tongue curling along my wet lips.

Pure seriousness, Ronin watched me from between my legs. “I never said I
wanted
you to be quiet.”

Shocked into shutting up, my next sound was another squeak—he'd gone back to nibbling my pussy. I was terrified he'd hurt me, his teeth came so close. Instead, the cliff of fear intensified everything, turned my insides to butter, my brain numb and useless.

He brought out a part of me I didn't know existed. Or that it
could
even exist. Ronin turned me on like nothing ever had. With my toes cramping, I yanked his face against me, begging for him to get me off.