TRIGGER: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel Page 18

  “I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do,” I said, well aware that my voice was nearly too low to be heard. My throat was closing up, I could barely speak at all. The pounding of my heart was thunderous in my ears. The cars neared.

  “What…ah, fuck, Trigger, you stupid son of a bitch,” Reign’s face, red with rage, appeared beside Puck’s. “Get the fuck back here, right fucking now, we don’t have time for this shit!”

  “Boss, that’s them, isn’t it?” I called, still moving backwards. The cars were less than half a mile away, and gaining fast.

  “Puck, shit, are you ready – Trigger, I swear to God, you need to get back here right fuckin’ now, you don’t understand…”

  “You know this is the right thing, Reign,” I called, finally gathering the courage to raise my voice. My feet were on the road. The cars were approaching. I raised my hands above my head. “They’ll fuck us all up, or just me. It was my fault, I need to pay for it. You been good to me – you’ve all been good to me.”

  “Trigger, you goddamn idiot!” Reign yelled, and pushed past Puck, running across the dirt towards me. I backed up to the center of the road, arms still raised. I turned. The cars were no more than a quarter mile away. I closed my eyes. I thought of Cass.

  And that’s when I died.

  Death was strangely bright. So bright that even though my eyes were shut tight, I felt like I was staring directly into the sun.

  And loud – for a moment, at least, it was loud enough to hurt. Then it got quiet, but not entirely quiet, more of a deafened muffle of my own waning heartbeat and the world I was leaving behind.

  And warm. Burning warm. A whoosh of heat that could sizzle the ends of your hair, or at least felt that way.

  And – yes – it felt like floating.

  Except, more like being thrown, and the world disappearing beneath you, and being so sure you’ll never hit the ground, that you’ll just continue to fly upward and upward until you reach heaven or hell or some new, black and white version of the world you came from where you can only watch things like a movie. But then you hit the ground anyway.

  And when I hit the ground, with a clatter that made my bones vibrate, I came back to life.

  Reign’s face appeared over mine as I stared up at the blue sky, now oddly filling with smoke. I could barely hear anything, only see his head shaking back and forth as he lowered himself, hands on his thighs. His lips moved, but no sounds were coming out. I tried to read what he was saying, but I couldn’t. My head hurt, and felt sticky around the back. I tried to make a noise, tell Reign that I was deaf, that life hurt and I wouldn’t mind being dead again. But then my eyes closed, and stayed closed for a good long while.

  Two days, from what they tell me.

  When I came to, I was more sure than ever that I’d died. Because, impossibly, she was there. That means she’s dead too, I remember thinking, the mellow ache in my bones nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

  I was in my own apartment, though, which made no sense. Cass was sleeping in the corner, on a chair pulled in from the dining room. Outside, it was either dawn or dusk, the dark pinkish light streaming in through the window, falling on my blanket, which felt too heavy for life.

  “Shit!”

  Well, I guess I’m not in heaven, I thought. The voice though…it was Rein’s. It came from down the hall. It was accompanied by a clatter, the sound of something spilling. The noise woke Cass up, too, and she blinked, bleary, her neck obviously aching from how she’d been sitting with her chin cupped against a fist.

  “What’s wrong,” she said in a voice that was probably meant to carry across the room, but was scratchy and soft with sleep. She yawned. I was still just lying there, taking stock of my body, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. What had happened. How I’d gotten here. Shutting my eyes, I tried to think of the last thing I could remember:

  Heat. Light. Being airborne. The sickening drop. My head on pavement. Reign’s face hovering above mine.

  For the first time, I noticed the bandage wrapped around my head, and lifting one heavy hand, fingered it.

  It didn’t occur to me to say anything, yet. To say hi. To say something clever like, “Oh, were you waiting for me?”

  But my movement must have caught Cass’ eye because an instant later, she was at my side, pulling at one of my eyes.

  “Trigger? Trigger? Oh my God, you moved, Trigger, you’re okay! Oh my God, Reign, REIGN, he’s awake! He’s awake! Thomas, shit!” she said, her voice loud against my still-throbbing temple, but still somehow angelic.

  “Baby, please,” I managed to say. “No more shouting.”

  Shit, I was thirsty. I hadn’t realized just how thirsty I was until I spoke. Cass began to cry, big wet sobs, and threw herself across the bed on top of me. It hurt, but not nearly as good as it felt to have her flesh against mine.

  Reign appeared in the doorway, a grateful grin on his face.

  “About time, sleeping beauty,” he said. “We’ve been worried about you. You are one lucky idiot, do you know that?”

  “What happened?” I asked. “I need water…”

  Rising herself and wiping the tears from her cheeks, Cass’ hand shook as she brought me the glass of water that had been left on the nightstand. It was tepid, and I saw some dust in it, which led me to believe it had been there for a while, but it didn’t matter. It was water. I finished the glass in two gulps, still thirsty for more. I held it out to Cass, who took it, her hands still shaking, her mouth moving though no words came out.

  “Can I have some more?” I asked.

  “You can have anything you want, baby,” she said, hustling away to refill the glass.

  “I’m gonna take you up on that, Cass,” I said after her, wanting to yell but not having quite the strength to do so. She heard me though, and turned to me with a tear-stained smile.

  “Cheeky,” she said, before disappearing. Reign approached, watching her leave.

  “You were right, you know,” he said, turning his eyes to me. “She seems worth it to me. Sat right here for two days waiting for you to wake up. Refused to leave your side. Kinda psychotic, really…”

  “Two days? What the hell – where did I get shot? I don’t feel…” I looked down, looking for the telltale signs of a bullet wound.

  “You didn’t get shot,” Reign said patiently.

  “Did I get hit? Did they hit me with their car?” He shook his head no.

  Something must have happened, though. I knew that much; you didn’t wake up after a two-day sleep feeling as achy as I did without something happening. I looked up at Reign, the question in my eyes. Cass reappeared, handing me the water, of which I downed half in a single gulp.

  “Do you know what Puck did in the military?” Reign asked, and I shook my head. “Bomb squad. And I guess, if you’re gonna defuse ‘em, they teach you how to make ‘em.”

  “Motherfucker blew me up?” I asked, amazed.

  “Not you, stupid,” Reign said. “The heavies. He set up a detonator from his phone, waited ‘til they got close to the bomb, blew those motherfuckers into the sky.”

  I was silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. I owed that boy a thank you, regardless of what had gone down between us beforehand.

  “Are we still in the shit?” I asked. “Did we get ‘em all or…”

  “Well, far as I understand, the brothers in question weren’t in the cars, so they’re still out there. But I wager they’re gonna think twice sending anyone else out. We took out a good number of their posse, at least. If they’re smart, they’ll cut their losses.”

  “I sure fuckin’ hope so,” I said. Cass reached down and grabbed my hand.

  “You got knocked out by the blast,” she said softly. “The doctor said you were okay, but he didn’t know when you’d wake up. I’m…I’m just so glad…”

  “I know, Cass,” I said, her hand warm on mine. “You know…you…you were the last thing I thought of…I thought I was
dead…and my only regret…”

  I didn’t need to finish the sentence. Didn’t want to; I knew the more I talked, the more tears would fall from her eyes. Even if they were happy tears.

  “How are you feeling, anyway?” Reign asked. “I was just here makin’ coffee for your girl…”

  “My old lady,” I said, interrupting. I looked up at Cass. “If that’s what she wants.”

  “Oh, Trigger…you are dumb,” she said, a wet laugh through her tears. “You know damn well that’s what I want.”

  “Cute,” Reign said. “But I gotta dip, really. Gabriella’s been home with the kid for a day, she’s probably about to go out her mind. But you feel okay, Trigger?”

  “I feel…I feel kinda tired again…” I said, realizing it was true only as I said it. My eyelids were feeling heavier and heavier.

  “You get you some sleep,” Reign said, then glanced at Cass. “Both of you. Chair sleep ain’t real sleep. I’ll check in on y’all tonight.”

  When he was gone, and it was just me and Cass, the only reason I could keep my eyes open was because I didn’t want to stop looking at her. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding my hand tight, like she was afraid that if she let go I’d disappear.

  “C’mere,” I said, releasing her hand only to hold my arms out. She smiled and lay down beside me. I covered her in the blanket and, turning on my side with only a slight groan, enveloped her in my arms. I felt like I was back in New Hampshire, holding her tight through the cold nights and the even colder nightmares. I felt like I was home.

  Cass

  It was like hearing the opening chords of a song you used to love, but haven’t listened to in forever. There’s no hesitation as you start to sing along, the words coming back to you easily, your lips and tongue and vocal chords operating from muscle memory alone.

  We’d slept through the whole day, and it was just dark outside, from what I could tell through my mostly-closed eyes. I let my lids flutter upwards once or twice, yawned, closed them again and snuggled in tighter. Trigger’s arms around me tightened.

  I felt the unmistakable shaft of hardness against my back. We began the slow dance; me pressing back slightly, him pressing forward. His nose pushed through my hair to find the bare skin of my neck, his warm breath tickling my still-sleeping skin. I pulled my knees up higher, he pressed against me, I pressed back.

  I almost fell back asleep. His hand moved from my waist to my breast, cupping it lazily, stroking me through my shirt. I stretched my legs downward, fitting the curve of my ass into his waist. He pressed against me. I pressed back.

  His lips moved to graze my neck, his other hand came up, his arms crossed around my chest now, one hand on each breast, tenderly stroking. His cock was hard and then harder against my ass, his hips moving up and down, the thin fabric of my leggings offering little resistance. I cooed as his palms covered my nipples, his tongue tracing a lazy design on my neck. I turned my head, offering him more of me to taste.

  “Hurt too much?” I whispered, eyes still shut tight, body moving on feeling alone. I pressed against him. He pressed back.

  “Don’t care,” he growled into my ear, nibbling the side of it, sending a shiver up my spine. The shirt I wore had a deep V in it, and I wasn’t wearing a bra, having discarded it sometime while we were sleeping. He moved his hands to my chest and then down the front of my shirt; I went rigid, his hands were cold, my nipples hard as his fingers twirled around them.

  I parted my legs slightly, drew my waist up. He was wearing boxers, and I moved my own hand around to grab his shaft and pull it through the hole in the front. He pressed into me, his cock sliding between my thighs, rubbing along my still-covered slit. I pressed back, moaning as the head of his cock rubbed against my clit.

  “Get these off,” he growled into my ear once more. Kicking awkwardly and tugging, I pulled my leggings down, loathe to move too much lest he need to relinquish his tender grip on my chest. My thong was paper thin, and as he pressed against me once more I felt the fabric dampening.

  He slid between my lips and stilled, the head of his cock pressed against my clit. His fingers teased my nipples while his hands clutched my breasts tight, as though trying to fuse our bodies together by virtue of closeness, his lips tickling a trail of pleasure across my neck.

  “Oh,” I moaned, my thighs turning rigid with desire, my legs wanting to part more for him, yet still savoring the slow sweetness of it all. He pressed against me. I pressed back.

  “Touch yourself,” he demanded, low and guttural, his voice like molten lava flowing through my body and igniting fires at my nerve endings.

  Obeying, I slid one hand down the front of my thong, finding my slit wet and hot, the feel of his cock pressed against me so tight inciting a thrill in my clit. I rolled one finger around the tender button, the shocks of pleasure beginning to dance around my brain. He could feel my fingers working against the head of his cock, could feel my dampness through the thin fabric, and he growled again into my ear.

  “I want to fuck you,” he said, his hot breath blowing into my ear almost enough to drive me over the edge on its own. My finger circled my clit patiently, drawing out the pleasure, my cunt beginning to throb and ache from need.

  Pushing the thin fabric to the side, he pressed against my slit. I moaned and threw one leg over his, opening myself for him. He began to slide into me, torturously slow, and though I pressed myself against him as hard as I could, he wouldn’t give me more than he wanted to give me. His hands moved to my hips, holding me still, my finger sliding up and down the side of my clit, pussy aching to be filled with him.

  Each inch of his cock offered new pleasures, my cunt stretching tight around him, until finally he pressed himself entirely inside me, filling me to the very brim with his thick manhood, his fat cock buried all the way to the shaft. He pressed into me, gently, feeling my pussy stretch to fit him, my body jerking from pleasure as my clit buzzed, my finger speeding up around it, fast circles now as he plunged himself into my deepest, most sensitive places. He moved one hand back up to my breast, cupping it roughly now and tweaking my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Oh, fuck,” I cried as he lifted himself slightly, leaning upwards on his elbow and shifting his hips to slip even further into me. My clit was throbbing, the bundle of nerves getting more and more tense, my stomach churning with a wave of desire as his fingers teased my nipple, his cock pulsing inside me so deep I thought he would actually press into my womb. “Oh, god, Trigger, please…”

  “Please what,” he growled, pulling himself out of me slightly. My free hand flew to his waist, pulling at him, desperate to feel him deep inside me once more. My clit was so hard and swollen I knew I couldn’t last much longer, and I wanted to feel his cock pressed into me, wanted to spill my juices over every inch of it.

  “Please fuck me, please let me come,” I begged, moaning as he slid himself into me once more, so slowly it was painful. I could feel him holding back the final inch, hovering right above that place inside me that craved him most, that would shudder and explode with passion the moment he entered.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he growled, voice primal and dominant. “Tell me who you belong to.”

  I stroked my clit harder, feeling that wave of desire cresting, growing huge and impossible, my muscles stretching to their limit, my nerves on fire with need, my heart clenching, my lungs threatening to collapse, my cunt burning with want, every inch of me screaming for release.

  “I’m your’s, Trigger, I’m all yours, I belong to you, forever, I swear, my body is yours, all yours,” I cried out, and as he pushed himself into me all the way, filling me at last, the wave broke and washed over me, pleasure streaming into every hair on my head, toes curling as my clit exploded with pulsing release, my pussy releasing its juices like a flood down his shaft, dripping onto my thighs, my eyes closing as white light filled my head.

  I could hear, as though from far away, Trigger’s growl as he pushed his body ag
ainst mine, forcing me over onto my stomach, keeping himself inside me as I came and came for him. I reached out blindly, grabbing the sheets in fistfuls.

  “Oh, my God,” I moaned as my climax waned. Positioned behind me, between my thighs, Trigger began to move in and out of me in slow strokes. I raised my hips to meet him, and he grabbed onto them, pulling me back so that each stroke buried him entirely in my now-dripping cunt.

  “So fucking wet,” he murmured appreciatively. The angle forced my clit against the sheets, and each thrust made the still-tender button swell and tense once more. Trigger moved my body like a toy, commanding my movements, his strong arms pushing and pulling me against him.

  “Only for you,” I murmured into the pillow, mind still ravaged my the climax. My hands gripped the sheets tighter as, impossibly, I felt my passion rising once more. He was still fucking me slowly, as though savoring every wet stroke.