Katrin crouched in the shallow cave. She opened the saddlebags and took out the flashlight. Turned it on. It flickered for a moment, but stayed lit. She took the saddlebags over to the cave. Swept the dark hollow with the flashlight beam, afraid she’d suddenly see the glinting eyes of a coyote or something. But the cave was empty.
She took out the blanket and spread it over the cave floor. Searched the supplies — a flint striker, matches, dehydrated meals, trail mix, a couple of canteens of water.
She looked up as Pistol limped to the cave entrance. “Hey. You should have stayed there. I would have come back to help you.”
“I’m fine,” he said gruffly.
She gazed at him tenderly as he supported himself on the cave doorway. She was still a little drunk on his praise for the way she’d handled the chase. “You’re not fine. I need to look at that shoulder.”
The grin was back. “You wanna play doctor with me?”
She cocked a brow. “I want you to lie back and let me look at that shoulder.”
“You’re no fun,” he grumbled, going to his knees and then stretching out awkwardly on the blanket.
She unzipped his jacket. She’d forgotten that he’d had no time to put his shirt back on. The poor guy was gonna freeze.
His muscular body sprawled before her, the ink especially beautiful in the gold glow of the flashlight. The bandages were bloody, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. “You heal quickly,” she remarked. She met his gaze. “Good thing.” She brushed the backs of her fingers across his cheek, heart clenching a little when he closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly toward her hand. “Troublemaker.” Her voice was barely a whisper now.
His eyes opened, and the naked longing she saw in his gaze made her swallow hard. He was a gorgeous man. Infuriating, at times. But gorgeous.
“You’re good to me,” he whispered back. “I know I don’t always show how much I appreciate you, but … I do.”
Katrin searched for the words she needed. She could tell him now. Tell him he was going to be the father of her child. Find out whether or not she could count on him to be there for her, for the baby, if they made it out of this.
How do I spring that on him now? When our lives are in danger? When he needs to rest and heal? When I don’t even know if we’ll even survive tonight?
She glanced out over the desert. Had anyone followed them? If they had, surely, Katrin would have seen them somewhere out on that lonely road. She looked back at Pistol, whose expression had hardened. “It’s my fault,” he muttered.
“What is?”
“All of this. They’re dead,” he said coldly. “They’re dead, and it’s my fault.”
Katrin’s heart rate picked up. At first, she thought he meant their pursuers, and she wondered how he knew. But then she saw the anger in his expression give way to grief, and she realized that of course — he meant his fallen brothers. The men her father had killed.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Sorry for your brothers. I know what they meant to you.”
“Deion…” His voice was gruff, but she could hear the emotion in it.
“I know.” She paused. “We have to stop my father. We have to make sure Deion and the others didn’t die for nothing.”
The flashlight flickered as she spoke, and her breath caught. That light wasn’t going to last much longer, but for now it illuminated the strong angles of Pistol’s face, turned his skin gold, set fire to his eyes.
“I’m going to kill him,” Pistol said, his voice calm, almost casual, on the surface, but with an underlying fierceness that sent a chill through her.
He means it. He absolutely means it.
She hesitated. What did she say to that? She thought he was entirely justified in wanting revenge, sure, but … this was still her father they were talking about. Her last remaining blood tie.
She placed a hand on her belly, closing her eyes briefly. Not her last. If they survived this, she’d have her own family. Even if it was just her and the baby. No Pistol.
She caught Pistol’s eye again uncertainly. “Maybe there’s another way?”
“There isn’t. That man’s a psychopath. He killed my brothers. He owes me his blood.”
“This isn’t the 1800s, Jax,” she said, surprising herself with the sharpness of her voice. “There won’t be pistols at dawn. There are legal channels…”
Pistol barked a laugh. “I’m not exactly on the right side of the law, Kat. I don’t think turning Leonard in to the police is gonna go well for me. ‘Why yes, officer, I was at the border to grab a massive shipment of cocaine and carry it back to town for distribution, but then these assholes startedshooting—”
“But we need to think—”
“The time for thinking things over is done. If we let him go, he’s gonna go on killing people. We’ve already waited too long, let him get completely out of control. I should have nipped this in the fuckin’ bud; I should never have gone along with his plan to have us married—”
“Well thanks,” she snapped, startled by her own vehemence. Why was she angry? Sheagreedwith him. They shouldn’t have gone along with her father’s crazy scheme. She’d likely been a fool to ever let herself get this close to Pistol Wilson. And yet…
What if I don’t regret it? What if I can’t stop seeing the good in him? Can’t stop imagining the man he’ll be when we’re out from under my father’s thumb?
Pistol sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it, then?”
“I just… If I’d put my foot down then. If the guys and I had driven him out of town, instead of showing our bellies like dogs…”
“Then I would have been driven out of town with him,” Katrin said coolly. “We’d never have gotten to know each other. And that’s not what I want.”
His eyes flickered sharply. “You’re saying you want to be here? In this mess?”
I want to be here with you.
She hadn’t realized how true it was until this moment. But she meant it. No matter how disastrous things were, she’d fallen for this man. This man who’d been broken as a child, but who had pieced himself back together as someone who was trying to do right, trying to protect those he cared about. He was wild, he was obnoxious, he was dangerous. But underneath that, there was beauty, there was hard-won wisdom. There was a man who might make a damn fine father, if he got his shit together.
“We’re heretogether, aren’t we? That ought to be something,” she replied. “So yes, I do see some good in this ‘mess.’”
He sighed and sank back. “Goddamn, Katrin.” There was no heat in the words. “When I saw you, all I could think was good Christ, I wanna go to bed with that girl.” He paused. “Sometimes I wish I’d just kept it at that.”
Katrin flinched. The words stung, enough to make her angry. Every time they started to open up to one another, he pulled back. It stopped here.
“God, Pistol. You really want to go on being that guy? That’s the kind of man you want to be?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Yes, maybe life would be simpler if I hadn’t been Leonard Smith’s daughter. If you’d just fucked me and gone on your way. But we’re here now, and I’m trying to tell you that I care about you, that I’mgladI’m here, and you’re acting like you miss being the guy who thinks women were just put on this earth for his amusement. That guy’s a sham. You know it, and I know it. So stop pretending.”
“It ain’t about women.”
“Itis about women.”
Pistol’s jaw tightened. “You wanna tell that bitch who raised me that her fucking kid wasn’t put on this earth for her amusement?” He shook his head, teeth gritted. “You want to pretend chicks are all these innocent fucking victims of big bad wolves like me? You didn’t know her. Fuck her. Seriously, fuck her.”
Katrin didn’t waver. “She was wrong, Jax. Wrong to treat you the way she did. But that’s not an excuse for the way you treat women.” Katrin’s temper rose. “What if you have adaughter someday? What do you want to teach her?”
“Well, I don’t have a daughter, do I? So it’s a moot point.”
“But if? You want her to grow up thinking she’s a piece of meat? That if she’s lucky enough, maybe a hot guy like you will spend one magical night with her?”
“Maybe I’ll respect her fucking adult decisions. Maybe I’ll trust her to know whether she wants a night of fun with no strings attached. Casual sex isn’t a crime, Katrin. I thought we’d been over this.”
Katrin tried to ignore the disappointment that flooded her at his answer. Maybe she’d been a fool to think this man could ever make a decent husband or father. “It’s not about the casual sex. It’s about — it’s about entitlement. Thinking you own the world because you’ve got a big bike and a big gun. I’ve seen a better side of you, Jax. A side that truly cares aboutpeople.”That cares aboutme.
He grimaced. “Your point?”
“You need to take a good hard look at your life. You’re mired in the past, licking old wounds. There might never be justice for the wrongs you’ve suffered. It’s time to move on.”
His eyebrows slanted downward. “Thanks for the lecture, sweetheart. But I don’t need your opinion on my life choices.”
Condescending prick.
“I’m trying to help.”
“Yeah? Well what about you? Jumping whenever Daddy says jump?” Katrin recoiled, stung. Pistol went on, “Why do you still defend him? Because you feel guilty about your mom?”
She rounded on him, furious. “You have no idea what my life’s been like since she died. No idea!”
“Yeah, well, what’d you tell me? Time to move on. Grow up, little girl. Get out of Daddy’s pocket and try living your own life.”
She leaned forward, stunned and nearly spitting with anger. “You are such a — such an—”
“Go on, say it. Let it out.”
“An asshole!” It felt good. Damn good, to say it.
“Yeah” He’d leaned forward too, eyes lit with something that didn’t quite look like anger.
“Tell me how much of an asshole I am.”
“The biggest fucking asshole. You’re a confusing, infuriating, crude—”
His lips were on hers, and she was ready, heat roaring up through her body, her spine arching, her breasts pressing against his body. She claimed his mouth with hers, then took his lower lip in her teeth, nipping sharply.
He gasped, and she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back gently, mindful of his shoulder. She was about to show him exactly who owned who here. When he was on his back, she straddled his hips, crossing her arms in front of her and pulling off her T-shirt. She gazed down at him, her breath quickening, heat pooling deep within her. His eyes widened slightly. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts, and let it fall from her body. The cold was a bit of a shock, but she didn’t care. She’d be warm soon enough.
She urged him up so she could slip his open jacket off and then she tossed the garment aside. Her hair, still tangled from the motorcycle ride, swept over her bare shoulders as she leaned down to kiss Pistol. Her hardening nipples grazed his chest, sending shivers through her that had nothing to do with the chilly desert night.
The flashlight flickered again. Pistol’s tongue pressed into her mouth, eager, needy. She sucked hard on his tongue until he moaned, trying to squirm under her. She placed her hands on his pecs, her thumbs circling his nipples, tracing the circles of light brown hair around them. Her pussy was already clenching hard, desperate to feel his cock. She arched backward slowly, keeping her hands on his chest and then tossing her head back, rising onto her knees once more to unsnap her jeans.
Pistol fumbled, trying to help her tug her pants down around her thighs. She un-straddled him for a moment and stood to finish undressing. She gave him a show, toeing off her shoes and then bending to slide her jeans all the way to her ankles, then slipping out of them. She stood there in nothing but a pair of purple cotton panties. She grinned down at him wickedly as he drunk in the sight of her.
She pouted her lips and said, mock-kittenishly: “Should these come off?”
He nodded frantically.
Then she hooked her thumbs in her waistband and sent the panties the way of her jeans. She kicked them away and stepped toward Pistol, ignoring the rocks that bit into the bottoms of her feet.
She knelt on the blanket again. Pistol had already toed off his shoes and unsnapped his fly, but she brushed his hand away and finished tugging down his worn jeans. She breathed in the scent of his arousal, leaning down to mouth his gray boxer briefs. He inhaled, his thighs flexing, his head tipping back. The muscles in his neck bulged, creating cords as she breathed on the bulge in his underwear.
She undressed him slowly, pausing to caress nearly every inch of him. By the time he was naked, he was panting heavily, his cock thick and flushed, nearly touching his belly. She straddled his hips again, tossing her hair away from her face. She smiled down at him. “Gonna ride you harder than I rode that bike of yours.”
Okay, so she hadn’t had much experience with dirty talk. But it felt natural, to talk to him like this — to let this be playful, sexy, to offer herself to him and take what he offered in return.
He let out a strained laugh. “I’m not gonna last thirty seconds, you keep on like that, honey.”
“You’d better.” She bit her lower lip and smiled again. “Because I’m not gonna stop until I’ve had my fill.”
He groaned with what sounded like a combination of pleasure and agony as she took his cock in her fist. “Katrin…”
“Hmmm?” She feigned innocence, stroking his thick shaft slowly.
His head dipped back again, and she watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. He tried to raise his hips, but she sat back on him, keeping him in place. She pumped him, and he reached up with his good arm and cupped his hand around her left breast, kneading it softly. Her breath hitched. He ran his thumb gently back and forth across her nipple, until she was dripping wet, until she couldn’t stand the anticipation anymore.
She lifted up and positioned herself over his dick, then lowered herself onto it. She gasped as it breached her, the friction driving her wild. She let gravity do its work, until she was seated on him and he was groaning, twisting his hips, shaking with the apparent effort of holding back. He was as deep inside her as it was possible to get. “Oh God,” she whispered. She could feel every inch of him. That hot, smooth shaft, the hair of his balls against her pussy lips.
She started to move, rocking back and forth at first, then lifting and lowering herself, whimpering as she found an angle that rubbed her G-spot with every stroke. The pleasure built inside her, and the sight of Pistol straining not to come, the feel of him rolling his hips in an effort to add to their mutual desire, made Katrin soar. She rolled her pelvis, sitting back hard on his dick, making herself cry out with the intensity of the pleasure.
Pistol placed both hands on her hips, and while she could see him gritting his teeth in pain, apparently pleasure overrode it, because he dug his fingers into her sides and pulled her down on top of him, thrusting his hips up sharply to meet her. She cried out again, every nerve in her body lighting up.
A gust entered the cave, meeting the heat of her skin, and suddenly the flashlight went out. She made a startled sound, and then they both laughed. From there, it was just their harsh breathing in the pitch darkness, the sensation of skin against skin as Katrin rode Pistol toward orgasm. His fingertips trailed down her hips, and then strong, warm hands cupped her ass, pulling her closer. In the dark, every touch became an unexpected delight, and she found herself paying closer attention to his body, trying to sense each movement before it happened and use her own body to harmonize with it.
He began to use short, sharp thrusts to stroke her G-spot. Her cries grew higher and breathier; his groans deeper, and finally she went over the edge, bucking as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her. Just when she thought she’d gotten a handle around the sensation, she jerked as a new wave hit her and she rode her way to a second, even more powerful orgasm. She let out what was almost a sob, contracting her pussy around the length of velvet steel within her.
She gasped, collapsing on top of him. He pumped twice more and came. “Holy shit,” he whispered. He whispered it over and over as she slid off of him and stretched out beside him on the blanket. She was panting so hard she couldn’t hear anything else but the harsh echo of her breath against the cave walls in the dark.
Pistol was panting too, still swearing under his breath. He rolled slightly. Stroked her hair with his uninjured hand. His touch stilled after a moment.
“We didn’t use a condom.” His voice was hoarse.
She went rigid, all of that wonderful post-orgasm relaxedness leaving her in an instant. This was her chance. This was where she told him she was already pregnant, that a condom only mattered if he wasn’t clean.
But did the fact that he didn’t seem upset that he might have just gotten her pregnant…did that mean it was safe to tell him?
A memory came to her of her mother — just after Jess had been diagnosed. She’d come into Katrin’s room. Sat on the edge of Katrin’s white-and-lavender bed and told Katrin what the doctors had said.
Katrin had been stunned — even more stunned to learn that she was the first person her mother had told.
“What about Daddy? You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”
“Eventually.” Katrin’s mother had given a long, pained sigh, closing her eyes.
“But why haven’t you told him?” Katrin had been able to feel the panic welling up inside her, tightening her throat. Her father would know what to do. They needed to tell him, so that he could help.
“A woman’s body,” her mother had said, gazing at the floor, “has a right to its secrets. Throughout all of history it has been displayed, scrutinized, regulated, commodified.” She looked up at Katrin. “If something is happening with your body, and you’re not ready to talk about it, then don’t. Not until you know it’s safe. Not until you’re sure that any choices you make will be yours and no one else’s.”
Katrin hadn’t quite understood at the time — though something about her mother’s words did make sense to her, deep down. “Do you not trust Dad?”
“It’s not a matter of trust. I just … need some time to be alone with this.”
“But you toldme.” Katrin struggled to keep her voice from breaking. The thought of anything being wrong with her mother was too devastating for words.
Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry. About all of this.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Katrin whispered. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“It’s going to be okay.” Her mother half smiled. “We’re going to fight this.”
We? Katrin had thought.Just me and you?
A week later, Jess had told Katrin’s father. Katrin had been listening from the stairwell. Had heard her father cry for the first time in memory.
I just … need some time to be alone with this.
To make sure it’s safe.
She sought Pistol’s hand in the dark. Tugged it to her lips and kissed it.
“I know. I wanted it,” she whispered. “I wantedyou.”
He wrapped his arms around her. Held her safe in that strong embrace until she fairly melted into him. “I wanted you too,” he said against her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said after a while. “For earlier.”
“Me too. I shouldn’t have pretended to know your story. Your situation.”
“Same.” He squeezed her hand, and though she couldn’t see him, she heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Though I do think I’m starting to get to know you pretty well.”
“Oh yeah?” She smiled too.
“Yeah. Some nights, I feel like…” He paused, and she waited, breathless, for whatever he was going to say. She cherished these moments when he spoke to her honestly, intimately.
“Like your snoring is music I could sing along to.”
She gave a loud, surprised laugh and slapped his chest lightly. “I donot snore.”
“You sure do, darlin’.”
“You sound like a train applying the emergency brake.”
He chuckled. “You’re not the first person to say that.”
Katrin felt an unexpected flare of jealousy, thinking about all the women who’d listened to her husband snore. That’s in the past now. He says he’s faithful to you now.
Do I believe him?
She did. She’d seen how loyal Jax could be to his brothers. She believed he was capable of being faithful to her.
But if I’m wrong … I don’t want to tell him about the baby unless I’m sure.
She pushed the thoughts aside. Ran a hand lightly over Pistol’s chest. “I know you pretty well too. Even in the dark, I know what your body looks like. I can see it in my mind. All your tattoos.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hm.” She traced lightly around his nipple. Felt him shiver. “I’ve been studying.” She leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “But I don’t know what all of them mean.”
“What do you want to know?”
She outlined an area on his left pec. “Right here, there’s Darth Vader on a Harley.”
He laughed. “Yeah. No regrets.”
“When did you get that?”
“I was twenty-one. ’Rango dared me.”
She swept her hand down his side, tracing what she imagined was the outline of the long, winding highway inked along his ribcage. “This is my favorite one. There’s a speed limit sign, mountains in all these … subtle greens and browns. A sun sinking behind them. I think about this one a lot. The empty road, and the mountains.”
“That’s Three Sisters. My favorite place to ride. To escape.”
“What do you need to escape from?” she murmured.
He didn’t answer right away. “I love my brothers. But sometimes I still need time alone. Or with just Deion. And the mountains there are incredible. Just feels so quiet and peaceful.”
She moved down to his hip with one finger. Felt him twitch a little. “Ticklish?” she asked with a smile.
“I dunno. You’re the expert on my body.”
She laughed and traced the same path again. He jerked. “Youare. How about that?”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to use that against me?”
She giggled. “Never.”
“Uh-huh. So what’s there, Miss Smartypants?”
“A meat cleaver. Which I don’t understand.”
“Me either. I was drunk.”
“Were you sober for any of these?”
“Hell yeah. The scales, for sure.”
She ran her hand across his chest and then up, seeking his collarbone. “Right here,” she murmured, tracing the shape of the scales.
“Yeah. I was goin’ for something deep.”
“You’re a justice man?”
“It ain’t even about justice, necessarily. It’s about balance.”
“How so?” she was genuinely curious.
“I guess I’m always kinda lookin’ for balance in the people I hang with. Kong’s calm balanced out my mom’s crazy. Deion’s sense of humor, it balances out Kong’s seriousness.” He paused. “And you … maybe you kinda balance out me. And how rough I am.”
“Rough?”
“Yeah. Just, like … I know I can be a dick. And I know I do a lot of stupid shit. But when I’m around you, I try to be less of a dipshit.”
“That’s kind of sweet.”
He held her closer.
“But I don’t think you’re a dipshit,” she whispered. “You help me survive, Jax. I … I need you.”
A soft hitch in his breathing. “I need you too.”
Warmth flooded her. She snuggled closer to him, trying to stave off the fear that was trying to creep in again.
“Tomorrow…” she murmured.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t think about that now. Let’s just have tonight.”
Katrin closed her eyes. Beside her, Pistol’s breathing gradually slowed, and she drifted in a haze of wonder and desire and a hope that probably should have been killed a long time ago, but that still burst through her, growing stronger with each soft breath.
It’s going to be okay. We’re going to fight this.