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His eyes darken, boring into mine, then in the blink of an eye, his hands are on my face and his lips slamming down on mine. I’m so taken aback that for a split second I don’t do anything. As the shock wears off, I begin to fight, but it only makes him hold me tighter and kiss me harder. When he pushes me into the wall, I feel how turned on he his, and I lose the battle, giving in to my body’s demands. I part my lips, finally allowing him entry, and hitch my leg up over his hip so I can get the friction I so desperately need. Between Zak before and now Maddox, I’m going to need some relief.
I can taste notes of whiskey and smoke as our tongues battle, and as he grinds his hips, he swallows the moan I can no longer contain as I submit to him.
Then it’s gone. His lips on mine, the heat of his body and his hands on my face, all just disappear as quick as it started. I open my eyes, breathless and dizzy from his intoxicating taste, to see him with a devilish smirk curling at his lips and hazel eyes swirling like molten gold.
I’m unable to look away as his tongue swipes across his bottom lip, and I see his satisfaction at how easy he was able to break me.
“Get dressed,” he orders, then turns and walks away leaving me unsatisfied and so fucking angry. With him but more so with myself.
I slam the bedroom door, then open it and slam it again just in case he didn’t get the message on how pissed off I am the first time. Childish? Sure. Satisfying? A little.
If Maddox Lawler wants to play games, then let’s fucking play. I have no idea where we’re going, and I don’t exactly have a full wardrobe to choose from, but I did pick up some nice jeans and a couple of tops that will work.
Quickly changing, I even find some mascara, eyeliner and lipstick in my handbag. I’m not big on the makeup front, so these basics will do just fine.
I consider why I’m even doing this as I put some slap on my face with my limited supplies. It’s not like I owe them anything. But equally, I didn’t agree because I wanted to help them either.
I don’t understand my conflicting feelings toward them. I should hate them, and I do, but there’s more than that too. How else can I explain my attraction to them? I never understood then, and now it’s even more impossible to wrap my head around. After all this time, after they abandoned me, I should feel nothing, not even hate because they aren’t worth the energy it takes.
Finished with my makeup, I’m just checking my reflection in the full-length mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door when the bedroom door flies open.
“Let’s go, Roxanne,” he demands, standing there dressed from head to toe in black; black jeans, hugging his thick thighs, and black tee, pulled taut across his chest. Tattoos decorate one arm, down to the rose on his right hand.
“Ever heard of knocking, arsehole?” I say, shoving my phone in my back pocket and stifling a laugh and shaking my head at the fact we are dressed identically.
He doesn’t reply, just throws a leather jacket at me, which I catch, before simply walking away. I roll my eyes behind his back as I follow. Shoving the jacket on, I breath in the new leather smell and frown when I realise it fits me perfectly.
When we get out to the garage, I walk toward his car but am surprised when he heads for the bike, which I’m now guessing is his and explains the leather jacket.
He passes me a black helmet, and as I turn it, I see a white skull with a bandanna covering the lower half of its face and below it on one side is a sniper rifle while on the other side is some sort of knife and the words Lawless scrawled below.
“Put it on,” he says, his words slightly muffled, and when I look at him, I see he already has his on. He throws a leg over the bike, starting it up, and the sound rumbles through the garage.
I shove the helmet on my head and am immediately assaulted by the scent of cedar and smoke, and I realise that this is Maddox’s helmet. Pushing my thoughts to the back of my mind, I put my phone in one of the pockets of the jacket that zips up and climb on behind Maddox.
It’s not my first time on a motorbike, in fact I dated a guy in college that rode one. Little sparks of excitement thrum through me as the vibrations from the engine revving ripple through my legs and up my body. However, when they reach the apex of my thighs, I realise what hell this is going to be as my earlier arousal returns at Mach speed.
“Oh, fuck!” I mumble, my words drowned out by the engine, or at least so I thought.
“Something the matter, Roxanne?” Maddox’s voice rasps in my ear, followed by a deep chuckle.
“Just fucking go, Maddox,” I snap, my irritation bleeding through.
“Whatever you say,” he replies as he manoeuvres the motorbike out of the garage. “Hold on, Roxanne,” he says with a laugh, pulling back on the throttle.
I just manage to wrap my arms around his waist, gripping his leather jacket before we speed down the driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Motherfucker!” I shout, and my curse is met by more laughter as we hit the road, and my grip tightens on his jacket.
He weaves in and out of traffic expertly, and despite the speed, I feel safe. In no time at all, we pull up to a warehouse set back from the docks, where there’s another guy leaning against a bike.
I climb off slowly ensuring I can trust my legs to hold me up and desperately try to ignore the ache between my thighs. I’m so fucking mad with Maddox for a thousand different reasons, and I have a locked chest full of questions in my mind that I plan on asking him, but getting those answers petrifies me.
Starting simple, I ask, “What is this place?” He climbs off the motorbike, dropping his helmet on the handlebars and holding out his hand for mine, which I just removed. Giving it to him, I wait for him to answer.
He steps up beside me, threading his fingers through mine, and I try to pull away, wondering what the hell he’s playing at.
“You have questions and starting now is how you get them. Follow my lead and keep your mouth shut.” He tows me toward the other guy, who stands as we approach and reveals his true height.
