Chapter Seven

Eli

We laid wrapped in a tangle, panting, as our bodies slowly stopped convulsing cum all over each other. I could almost hear in our fucking breath how shocked and satisfied we both were.

Even sex that hot still slowly cooled under the breeze, and reality fizzled into place around us. Oh, yeah. The highway. The grass. I’d forgotten about all of that stuff.

An engine rumbled in the distance and grew closer. Its headlights swept over us, but it didn’t slow down, and we were hidden on the other side of the motorcycle and the log. But the reminder that we were completely in the open wasn’t lost on me. I had no idea how many motorists might’ve zoomed by during the frantic landslide of those last ten minutes.

I didn’t want to let it go yet, though. Nothing would ever be as simple and satisfied as this moment, her bare chest against mine, me planted inside her warmth.

Simple, huh? You’re buried in your newfound stepsister, totally spent. Your cum is in there. Real simple. Totally acceptable.

“We’ll have to go soon,” I murmured into her neck. The brainless part of me already wanted to go again. “Or keep fucking to produce more body heat.”

“Fuck me now, while you can,” Nina whispered back, but it almost sounded like she was talking to herself. Her fingers traced idle patterns on the back of my neck. “Once we get back to Hinton, we won’t be able to keep doing this.”

“Right,” I agreed, even though I didn’t want to say it. She was right. “This was … We’re … collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?” Even though I was still on top of her, Nina tugged away from me. “What does that mean?”

“I’m on a mission, Nina,” I said. My cock slid from inside her, and I folded my jeans together again, zipping them up like nothing happened. “And I want you. But I don’t want you to get hurt. You shouldn’t be involved in this.”

“Oh, my god, more of this talk.” Nina rolled her eyes and squeezed her generous ass back into her jeans, zipping them up with some effort. “What mission are you talking about?” She sat up and frowned. “Where’s my bra? And my sweater?”

I fished her discarded sweater from the grass over her head and handed it to her, watching in dismay as she veiled her tits from view. “I have no idea where that fucking bra is,” I told her. “I think it went over the side of the cliff.”

Nina’s frown deepened, and she climbed to her feet, dusting herself off. Her hair was still insane and full of twigs, but she didn’t need to know that. It would only upset her. “You didn’t say what your mission is,” she reminded me.

I picked up my riding jacket from the grass, where it had turned into a makeshift blanket. “I’m bringing down these Freaks myself.” I dusted the jacket off, still intending for Nina to wear it. “I’m going to do what HCPD won’t.” I took a few steps back toward the bike, but Nina didn’t follow. I looked over my shoulder. She still stood on the other side of the log.

“Are you serious?” Nina’s eyes tracked me, part amazed, and part scared. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s not what I’m going to do. It’s what I’ve been doing.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Learning the gang members. Who is who and where they all go. I’ve taken down almost ten Freaks myself. Whoever is at the head of the snake must feel me biting his tail. He knows I’m out there. He hasn’t been able to find me yet.”

“Oh, my god,” Nina breathed. “Who do you think it is?”

“I can’t tell you,” I said. “I’ve already said too much.”

She blinked at me and furrowed her brow. She still stood several feet away from the bike, refusing to pretend that this conversation was casual.

“You wouldn’t think it was our dad, would you?” she asked.

“I told you, he’s not my dad.” I jammed my helmet down over my head and held hers out to her with my riding jacket. “Come on.”

Nina stared at me. She stared me down.

“That’s why you gave me that fucking speech when I walked into your bar,” she snapped, not only walking but marching toward me, one finger pointed and jabbing the air. “That’s why you wanted to know if I was wearing a wire or a tracking device or had any weapons!” When she reached me, she spun back toward the cliff and threw her hands in the air, shaking her head. “Oh, my god! Jesus!”

“I trust you, Nina,” I reminded her from the other side of my faceplate. I extended the spare helmet and my riding jacket to her again. She knocked the helmet into the dirt and grabbed the jacket, wadded it into a ball, and heaved it back at me. I caught it, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I don’t care if you trust me!” she shrilled. “I don’t trust you! My dad is not a fucking criminal! I thought you were angry about how he treated you and your mom, but—but you’re crazy!” She plucked her fallen helmet from the dirt and propped it against her hip, pointedly standing beside the motorcycle and scowling up at me. “Take me the fuck home.”