Riding Steele: Collide

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Cover

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Begin Reading

Also by Opal Carew

About the Author

Copyright

Riding Steele
series

From Part 2

Her heart leaped as she saw the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.

A police car!

It had been stopped on the side of the road several yards ahead, but now it started to pull away.
Oh, God, no
.

She raced to the roadside and began to wave her arms, but the rain was so heavy, and maybe the driver just wasn’t checking his rearview mirror, because he started driving forward.

She dashed onto the narrow road and ran after him, but water was flooding from the paved surface with the onslaught of rain from the heavens, and her foot slipped on the slick surface, sending her tumbling to the ground. At the same time, the car did a U-turn, and headed in her direction.

Oh, God, if the driver didn’t see her
… She tried to scramble to her feet as the headlights approached, then sucked in a breath. But the car stopped.

A tall officer in a slick raincoat stepped toward her.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked, staring down at her with concern in his dark eyes.

“No, officer. I’m not.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“It’s all right, ma’am,” the officer said to Laurie as he held out his hand to her.

She took it and he helped her to her feet, then with a steady arm on her elbow, guided her to the squad car. He opened the back door and she slipped inside. He closed the door and walked toward the back of the car. She could hear the trunk open, then a moment later he got into the driver’s seat. He turned and handed her a blanket.

She took it with trembling hands and wrapped it around herself. Her clothes were soaked right through.

The policeman settled into the driver’s seat. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

“My name is Laurie Conners.” She leaned forward and glanced at the reflection of his face in the rearview mirror, but he was looking down at his cell phone, texting something. “And I’ve got to tell you, there are these men … bikers … and they’re looking for me. In fact—”

“Do you believe you’re in danger?” he asked.

“I … uh … well, they kidnapped me.”

He put away his phone and glanced at her in the mirror. “That’s a serious accusation. Do you want to press charges?”

She had told Steele she wouldn’t charge him, but she’d said it to convince him to let her go. But, did she want to press charges?

She shook her head. “No. I just want to go …” She was going to say home, but she realized that Steele and Wild Card were right. Donovan would probably be looking for her there. “I want to go somewhere safe.”

He put the car in gear and started moving. The windshield wipers slapped back and forth, clearing the sheet of water that steadily poured across the glass, but they could barely see past the front of the car.

Laurie huddled into the blanket and sank back in the seat, feeling safe for the first time in a long time. Not just since Steele and his men had kidnapped her, but in the several months she’d been dating Donovan.

She pulled the blanket closer. How had she let things go so far with Donovan?

She’d wanted to trust Donovan. He was rich, successful. Handsome. He was the perfect man. At least on the surface. But when she started having second thoughts, her girlfriends told her she was just afraid of commitment. When she first realized he had some kinky tastes in the bedroom, it had unnerved her a little, but every article she read about sex said that couples should let loose and try new and different things. He was more experienced than her and so was ahead of her in that department. At least, that’s what she’d tried to convince herself. At first, it had been a bit of bondage, then he started giving her orders. She had been shocked at how mindlessly and completely she had responded to his domination. A part of her craved being controlled and that scared her a little. But she’d been willing to push back her other issues to explore this side of herself.

Then things had taken a strange turn.

She had been staying with him for the weekend at a big house he had in the country. The house was beautiful, but she didn’t get to enjoy it much. The first day, he’d dragged her into a small bedroom and bound her wrists and ankles to the bed, then had sex with her. Then he’d just left her there.

A couple of hours later, he’d come back and taken her again, then gave her some food. When it became clear he wasn’t going to let her free, she told him she wanted to end this, but he simply said, “Silence, slave,” and shoved a ball gag into her mouth. He’d fucked her one more time that evening, then left her alone in the darkness all night long.

In the morning, he’d dragged her from the bed and bound her to what he called a punishment bench, where she was bent over the padded, wooden frame, forcing her naked ass into the air, then he’d slapped her. Hard. Over and over again until her ass burned.

Afterward, when she’d told him how upset his actions had made her, he’d apologized, telling her he’d thought she’d wanted the whole immersion scenario, that he’d thought it had turned her on. He’d promised that he’d be more careful in the future.

She’d reluctantly continued seeing him, but he was attentive and seemed genuinely sorry for his mistake in judgment. For a while. But then they had slipped back into the Dominant-submissive roles and things started to derail again. What caused her to finally break it off with him was when during sex, he’d wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed so tight, she almost passed out. He seemed to enjoy the total panic in her eyes, and her obvious sense of complete helplessness. That was the final straw.

She sank into the seat and let the movement of the car lull her as she watched the water stream down the window beside her. She was safe now. She shivered inside. At least, from the bikers.

She seemed to have dozed off because she awoke with a start when the car came to a stop. She peered out the window but the rain hadn’t let up and everything outside was blurred. But it didn’t look like she was at a police station. She thought she could make out trees, and some shadowy shapes approached the car.

The officer in the front seat glanced back at her in the mirror.

“Wait here, ma’am.” He opened the car door and stepped out.

“Hey, Killer. So you found her?”

She stiffened. That sounded like Rip’s voice.

A moment later, the door beside her swung open and Steele glared at her.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

The policeman put his arm in front of Steele. “Now, Steele, give her a minute until you cool off.”

Steele’s eyes narrowed. “Screw that.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her from the car. Her heart pounded loudly as he dragged her into the house.

“Why did that police officer bring me back here when I told him you kidnapped me?” she asked as he tugged her up the stairs. “And how did he know you were here?”

“Killer is a friend of your brother’s.”

They reached the top of the stairs and he pulled her down the hall.

“Killer? Is he even a real cop?” she asked.

“People around here know his as Officer Grainger, but Rip knew him when he was an undercover cop in a criminal gang. Killer was his ride name. About six months ago, he decided he’d had enough of that life. He moved here with his new wife and became friends with your brother.”

He pushed her into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. “But that’s not what I want to talk about right now.”

He stared at her, his breathing heavy. They both stood there dripping on the hardwood floor.

“I’m going to ask you again, what the hell were you thinking?” he demanded.

The expression on his face was more anxious than angry, she realized, but when he took a step toward her, she jerked back.

“Ah, fuck, really?” He glared at her as he strode closer. “I’ve done everything I can to prove to you that I won’t take you against your will, but you still don’t believe me.” He stepped closer and she backed up until the wall pressed against her.

He stood so close that if she took a deep breath her breasts would brush his big, solid chest.

His eyes narrowed. “Since you’ve already tried and convicted me in your mind maybe I should just commit the crime.”

He cupped her face with one big hand and tipped up her chin, then captured her lips. A moment later, he whispered against her mouth. “But I would never do that. Do you understand me, Laurie?” Then his tongue drove into her mouth with a sure stroke, claiming her for his own. Tears streamed from her eyes because she wanted to relax into his arms and invite him to take her. She wanted him to hold her close, to feel the comfort of his body. She could feel his cock hard against her belly and she wanted to open to him and feel him glide inside.

He seemed like such a good man. He seemed to care about her.

But then so had Donovan. At first.

Steele’s mouth moved on hers, his body shifting closer, pinning her to the wall.

His lips parted and he stared at her, his glittering granite eyes boring through her.

“Fuck, I was worried something had happened to you. That you were lost, maybe hurt.”

The concern in his eyes tore at her gut. Did he really care?

“I was lost. I was so glad …” Her throat closed up and tears welled. “… to … to see that police car on the road and flag it down. If he hadn’t stopped …” She sobbed. She had just felt so alone and terrified out in the woods alone, not knowing how to find her way back.

His strong arms tightened around her and she leaned against him, taking comfort in his closeness. Her heart thumped loudly against him and she could hear the echo of his. He drew back and cupped both her cheeks, then lowered his face to hers. The brush of his lips was soft and gentle and they moved on hers with a tenderness that shocked her, sliding past all her barriers, and she found herself responding. His tongue slid into her mouth and she stroked it with hers. He held her tight to his muscular body and her nipples, already hard from the cold and wet, felt an agony of need as they bored into his rock-solid chest.

He drew back and stared at her, looking as bewildered as she was.

He sucked in a breath and stepped back. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.”

She stared up at him, ready to surrender to her need at last. To strip off her clothes at his command and let him take her, whatever the consequences.

She reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her wet, lace-clad breasts to his view.