Wanted - Dead or Alive: A Bad Boy Outlaw Romance (3 page)

I
kiss
Willa because I don’t know what else to do. Plus, I've wanted to kiss her since the moment I laid eyes on her back in the bar.

She tastes better than I ever could have imagined; sweeter, sexier and deeper. Like chocolate-covered strawberries. Fuck, she feels so good against me.

She resists my kiss at first, her mouth firmly shut as I glue my lips against hers. She struggles against me with her arms, trying to push me away, but only feebly—like she doesn’t fully mean it. I take hold of her hands and pull her closer, feeling her mouth opening in a low moan. I take the opportunity to deepen our kiss, claiming her mouth with my tongue. Slowly, Willa melts into my embrace and her body goes slack, like she can't hold herself up any longer.

After a few seconds, her hands find their way around my neck, twining into my messy hair. I hold her waist and pull her in as close as she can possibly get. The kiss is still hesitant, like we're both trying to gauge the other's reaction. Then, she slips her little tongue inside my mouth and moans against me again, making me groan. My hands form fists at her sides as she finally kisses me back.

Oh, fuck…

She’s hard, raw, biting down on my bottom lip and sucking it inside her mouth. Her kiss is angry, like she's mad that I made her do this. But that only makes it all that much sweeter.

I pull on her hair, making her tip her head back, and my lips begin an assault on her neck, nibbling on her delicate skin. Fuck, she tastes good. I'm struggling to stop myself from ripping her clothes off right here in this fucking alley. She’s too good to be screwed here.

Way too fucking good.

Just eighteen, I have to remind myself with every taste, every kiss, every soft bite. Fucking eighteen, seven years younger than me. And I'm ruining this innocent girl by claiming her as mine.

She's moaning in ecstasy now, her head lolling from side to side as I claim her body. My hands are scratching at her top, my mind convincing me to rip off every shred of clothing she has on. Just as I'm really getting into it, we hear a car pulling away from the parking lot, and the spell is broken.

Willa looks up and my eyes follow hers. We lock gazes, her eyes wild and burning with passion. And then she slips away, moving out of my reach and clearing her throat. A deep blush spreads over her cheeks as she realizes what we've just done. I feel the loss of her body against mine, the warmth where she was nestled only seconds ago slowly fading away until there's only my stone-cold heart.

"Sorry," she mumbles, and I give her an amused look. What the hell is she apologizing for? She’s such a sweet girl.

My eyes float towards the parking lot as Willa readjusts her top, and I see the police car pulling away. Guess they didn't get any information; otherwise they would've stayed a while longer. Luckily no one in there paid me any attention—apart from the perfect angel standing in front of me. In my mind, I curse my friend Kaiden, who gave me the go-ahead to stay at this motel. Looks like it’s not so safe after all.

It’s then that I suddenly remember what Willa did right before I kissed her, the memory crashing back like a clap of thunder. She tried to scream, tried to rat me out. My eyes darken, a red mist descending on my vision. I make her look at me, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her closer. She thrashes wildly in my arms, her eyes wide and alarmed like a doe in danger. "Why'd you try to rat me out?"

"You're a criminal," she hisses at me. "You killed someone!"

"I didn't kill him," I growl. "I fucked him up, I beat him, but I didn't fucking kill him. I’m fucking innocent.”

"Well, isn't that a consolation," Willa spits out, angrily ripping herself out of my embrace. Her eyes are practically shooting daggers at me as she smoothes down her top. "And you have no right to kiss me like that!"

"I'll do as I damn well please." My eyes blaze with fire as we stare at each other in this raging standoff. "I take what I want, sweet Willa. Maybe you're what I want today."

"I don't belong to anyone," she says, enunciating every word. "Least of all you."

"That's up to me."

There's a shit-eating grin on my face as I say it, and she looks bewildered by this information. I don't want to deal with this anymore, though. We have a different problem on our hands. She knows who I am, and I don't doubt she'll run to the nearest authority the moment I let her go.

"You're coming with me," I say. She starts to speak up, fight me on my decision one more time, but I'm not having any of it. "You don't even have a place to stay. I've rented a room; you can sleep in my bed. I need you in my sights."

"No! I’m not sleeping anywhere with you."

She looks so horrified it actually makes me laugh.

"I'll sleep on the floor, if you ask me nicely." I step closer to her, tipping her chin back so she's forced to look at me. "But I bet you don't want that, do you, baby doll? You want me where you can feel me."

She starts blushing again. She's so fucking innocent that it scares me. I remember the things I did when I was her age, and blushing was definitely not one of them.

"Fine," she says. The anger is all-too distinct in her voice. "Let's go to your room. But if you make one wrong move, I'll scream my head off. I don't trust you one bit."

"Yet you're willing to spend the night with me, a wanted murderer," I say, chuckling in her face.

She doesn't know how to reply, and I don't give her a chance. Instead, I just grab her arm and pull her towards the direction of my room. We don't have time for silly fights. I need to get us both somewhere safe and locked away.

Willa looks like a sullen teenager as we walk towards the building. I don't question her bad mood, knowing I've made her feel this way. Instead, I purse my lips and pull her along until we're at the door, the cheap neon sign of the motel flashing above us.

Willa tiptoes into my room like a scared animal, checking the corners to make sure it's safe. She's shivering, and I hate seeing her in this way. I wander over towards her and rub her back in a sweet gesture that’s almost alien to me.

She finally cracks a half-smile at me, the tension flooding away from her shoulders. Then she walks over to the bed and sits down, the mattress creaking below her. She kicks off her boots, exposing her dainty little feet in a pair of pink socks. She has the body of a woman, yet some things, like the stuff she wears, really reveal how young she is.

Only eighteen.

"Why are you letting me stay here?" she asks. I finally look down into her eyes, seeing her doubt my real intentions.

"You're a smart girl, figure it out," I growl in her direction, running a hand through my messy hair again. I’m contradicting myself with what I say and the way that I act, but I can’t get it together to sort myself out.

Willa remains quiet, not offering an answer. So I face her again, my eyes blazing with anger. "I know you're going to rat me out the moment I look away, but I know you need a favor, too. You can't just spend the night in your car, you'll freeze to death."

"What makes you think I won't go to the police as soon as you let me go, whenever that is?" Her voice is challenging, her eyes boring into mine. "Got a solution for that?"

"Yeah," I say, walking up to her until she shrinks away from my presence, threatened by my imposing stance. "I just won't let you go."

"I'm not your property!" She sounds shocked. Poor little thing, actually believing she could get away from me if she wanted to. So naïve. So young. She has so much to learn about the big, bad world.

"Not yet," I say with a smirk.

She looks mildly horrified at my words. I turn around to leave, but Willa grabs my sleeve and pulls me closer before I can move away.

"Maybe we can set up a trade," she says, smiling widely at me all of a sudden.

I give her a questioning look, urging her to go on, and she clears her throat and casts her eyes down, obviously embarrassed about her situation. "I'm in a bit of a bind, and I could use a helping hand. In return, I promise not to call the cops. And I won't ask any questions about...the murder. Deal?"

Her eyes are hopeful, wide and sparkling. I hate disappointing her almost as much as I love teasing her. I chuckle, shaking my head.

"What's so funny?" Willa said, sounding offended.

"You," I say. "You think I'm actually going to trade with you?"

"Why wouldn't you?" She actually looks proud of her blackmailing. Adorable. "Either you help me, or I go to the cops."

I step closer again, dominating her with my body until she's shadowed by my overbearing presence. "What makes you think," I start, sliding a finger down her pretty face and coming to rest on that pouty mouth. "I take orders from anyone?"

She gulps, but I'm not done just yet.

"I don't trade, baby doll. I just take whatever the fuck I want."

"But—"

"But nothing." I grin at her and cut her off, a predatory gleam in my eyes. "And what makes you think you're leaving me, ever? Don't you know I'm a wanted criminal? I'll do whatever I want with you, sweet little Willa. And I have plenty of things in mind…"

I
gulp
as the threatening words leave Dexter’s mouth. He’s walking, talking, breathing danger, and I should know better than to be turned on by him. Yet I can’t help the growing ache between my legs, the raw need to feel his lips against mine one more time.

Clearing my throat, I turn away and start unpacking my backpack, just to get my mind off what he said. Luckily, I’d had enough time to grab it from my car before we got stuck in the alleyway.

I pull out a spare shirt, toothpaste and a toothbrush, desperate to freshen up.

“Mind if I use the bathroom?” I ask shyly, and Dexter nods in the direction of the room. I get up quickly, trying to ignore the heavy thumping of my heart.

Locking the door behind me, I lean against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall. It’s a good timeout, at least. Maybe it will clear my head a little bit, make me see things more clearly.

What the hell am I doing?

I look at my reflection in the mirror, revealing the sad truth. I look horrible. My hair is hanging in limp strands, my eyes are cold, lifeless and tired, and my body is sagging with the stress and exhaustion. I need a quick shower, I decide on a whim, stripping my clothes off until I’m completely naked and feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Knowing that Dexter is only a door away makes me anxious, but it also makes me horny as hell. I should control my feelings better, otherwise this won’t end well for me. I cannot allow myself to act on these feelings—that would just be yet another stupid decision in the seemingly endless line of them that I’ve been making lately.

I slip inside the shower, finding a new bar of soap, and I unwrap it, grateful for the small mercy. The shower is weak, but at least the water is warm as I rinse my hair and body. It feels so damn good to wash myself after all that I’ve been through. It refreshes me, starts to make me feel a little more like myself again.

Once I’m done, I wrap myself in a ragged towel. I leave my hair hanging on my shoulders and spilling down my back, dripping wet. I can’t find a bathrobe, and my clothes are all dirty. Even the shirt that I’d thought was spare was stale smelling, so I’d thrown them all in the sink to soak, without even thinking. I hadn’t considered the fact that I was going to end up with nothing to wear.

“Shit,” I mutter.

I bite my lip, unsure of what to do. I don’t want to go out there in just a towel, but I don’t really have much of a choice, and to be perfectly honest, the prospect of being almost naked in front of Dexter excites me.

Stop it, Willa!

Shyly, I emerge from the bathroom. Dexter is lying on the bed, flicking through the channels on the small TV and cursing under his breath about the static. My eyes go to his chest right away. He’s stripped off his T-shirt, and his upper body is now in full view. He has a toned chest and abs so ripped they could cut rock. I realize that I’m just standing there staring, but it’s okay, because so is Dexter.

I can feel his eyes burning my skin as he searches my body. I’ve never been more thankful for a ragged towel; even though it’s threadbare, it’s enormous and covers most of me up. I don’t know how I’d cope if I really was nude right now.

I let my wet hair fall in front of my face to hide my blush as I head towards him. “Do you have a shirt I could borrow? I’ve put all my stuff in the sink to wash.”

It feels embarrassing to ask, but I don’t want to be in this towel all night.

Dexter springs up from the bed, his eyes never leaving my body. He rummages in the closet a second later and hands me a huge T-shirt, one that will probably hang down to my knees. Perfect.

We face each other, and I can feel my heart beating faster than ever. “Do you mind?” I ask, my voice shaky as his eyes search mine.

“Do I mind what?” he asks. He’s playing dumb, and we both know it.

“I’ll go change in the bathroom,” I mumble, but he grabs my wrist before I can leave. His touch is scorching hot on my skin, and a bolt of electricity slams through my system, heading straight between my legs.

“You can change here,” he growls. “I’ll look away...promise.”

His grin is devilish, but he does indeed turn around. He’s only inches away and I feel odd changing so close to him. At the same time, there’s a taste of danger in what I’m doing. If Nicolette knew what was happening, she would slap me silly.

‘Keep away from boys that seem dangerous,’ she always used to tell me. It’s a shame that she didn’t take her own advice.

I let my towel drop to the floor and hurriedly pull on the T-shirt he gave me. I was right—it’s way too big for me, reaching my mid-thigh, a little like a dress. I try to ignore the fact I’m not wearing panties or a bra, pulling my hair to my front so it covers my hard nipples. They’ve been pebbled and ready since the moment I started speaking to Dexter, and I don’t want him to know that.

“Done,” I say, and Dexter turns back around. His gaze is scrutinizing, and I shy away from his stare. He doesn’t care, though, and I can feel his eyes following me as I walk towards the bed.

“So,” Dexter chimes in. “Are you going to tell me what it is you need help with?”

I sit on the bed, pulling my legs up and making sure my private parts are hidden. I figure I’ll have to tell him about Nicolette eventually, so right now is as good a time as any.

“I’m looking for my sister,” I say, my voice shaky as I struggle to get the words out. I haven’t told anyone about this. I didn’t even tell Marissa. I always thought it was just going to resolve itself, but obviously it didn’t.

“What happened to her?” Dexter sounds genuinely interested, but I don’t let his words fool me. He probably just wants to fuck me, and that’s where the niceness is coming from. He already said that he has no intention of helping me, after all.

He walks over to the bed, and my body immediately tenses up when I feel his proximity. I’m rigid as a statue, but all he does is take the blanket from the end of the bed and lay it over me.

His sweet gesture surprises me, and I try to search his eyes to find his true intentions, but he turns sideways so that I can’t see his face.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

And then I have a moment of madness.

“You can sit on the bed with me, if you want.”

I blush as soon as the words are out of my mouth, and now it’s my turn to look away. In a few seconds, I feel the mattress creaking below me as Dexter lies down on the bed.

His posture is relaxed, while mine is nervously hunched over. I can’t quite meet his eyes, so I focus my gaze on the duvet as I begin to explain my story.

“She disappeared a while ago.” My voice is soft, and I feel like I’m telling him a bedtime story. A fucked up fairytale with no princes and plenty of evil wizards.

“She dated this guy for a long time, and he...he didn’t treat her right.” My bottom lip starts to tremble as I delve into the story, giving Dexter as much information as I have. Realistically, I know it’s not very wise to trust him, yet the words keep spilling from my lips. “…and I haven’t seen her since then.”

Finally, I finish, trying to regain my composure after admitting how Ryan attacked me. I see Dexter’s fists tightening by his sides on the bed. He’s been struggling to hold it together since I got to that part of the tale.

I didn’t even need to look at him to know that.

“How long has she been gone?” he asks in a clipped tone.

“I haven’t heard from her in four months. It was over a year ago that she broke up with Ryan, but it seems like he never left her alone. I wanted to help, but it was clear that he was after me too. That’s why I’m only just looking now.” I feel like I need to explain myself with that. The story makes me sound like a terrible, heartless sister. But really, I was just afraid.

“Where were you trying to go?” Dexter wants to know next.

“Into the city. She worked in a club when I lived with her, and last I heard, she was still there.”

“What kind of club?”

I gulp, embarrassed.

“Dancing?” Dexter pries.

I nod, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Which club?”

“Pussies Galore.” The words are dirty on my tongue, yet I force them out. “That’s where I was going to go first.”

Dexter laughs next to me and I shoot him an annoyed look.

“So you wanted to hunt her down without any cash, gas or connections?” he says. “And with her ex probably on your tail, ready to grab you when you weren’t careful. Genius plan, Willa.”

“Oh, screw you,” I reply, getting off the bed. I’ve just spilled my guts to him, and apparently all he can do in response is mock me, which annoys the hell out of me.

It also annoys me that he actually has a good point.

Before I can properly move away, he grabs me and pulls me closer. I resist, but it’s futile. Next thing I know, he’s pulled me into his lap, just like he did in the bar only an hour or so ago. It feels as if we’ve been with each other for much longer, strangely enough, like it’s already been days since we first met.

But no, it’s barely been an hour, and he’s roughly pulling me closer to him like I already belong to him.

“Let me go,” I demand, but he just glares at me.

“I can help,” he says.

Our eyes are locked. I’m trying to see whether he’s honest, and he’s trying to fucking break me.

“I don’t need your help,” I snarl at him.

“Oh?” Dexter grabs both my wrists with one hand, his other coming up to my face and gently rubbing my mouth. I part my lips, a sigh escaping. I can feel his rock hard abs beneath me, and his stiffness pressing against my clit.

Fucking hell, it feels good.

“I think you do,” Dexter says, his finger trailing down my chin and throat before coming to rest on my collarbone. My breathing is ragged now, hoping he’ll do more yet at the same time praying he won’t.

I grind against him involuntarily, my body succumbing…and the bastard grins like I just gave him his first-ever Christmas present.

“Help me, then,” I say, my voice shaky.

Dexter’s hands find my hips, grinding me against his groin. I gasp out loud.

“I will help you, baby doll,” he promises. He looks honest for once, like a nice guy, but then a shadow darkens his features and I know I won’t like what he’ll say next.

“And you, sweetheart...you’ll pay.” He looks like the devil himself when he grins at me, seeing how turned on I am.

But I’m the bigger fool, because I’m already nodding to his request, sealing my fate.