An Outlaw Monster (Back Down Devil MC #10)

The second the water turned on, my cock thickened. I had my beer in my hand and stood at the end of the hallway, staring at the door. I didn’t need to look down to see the bulge slithering down my leg, I could fucking feel it.

This woman was driving me mad already. There weren’t many that did that kind of shit to me and for Harlee, there was no good reason. I hated to admit I actually felt bad for her because that meant I actually felt something. My job was to be the muscle of the MC. The brains were for the President, the VP, and a guy like Cade. I was supposed to break noses, necks, and if you had a slit between your legs, I’d break your goddamn heart.

Something inside me said Harlee needed to be alive.

Fine. Stay alive for another night and day.

I finished off the beer and walked to the kitchen for another one. I looked out the window and saw two prospects sitting behind my motorcycle. They were on an all night protection run for me. There were probably two more circling the neighborhood, engines revving, making sure their thunder was heard. Like the warning roar of a lion, needing to keep enemies away.

I twisted the top off a fresh beer and went to the bedroom. There was obviously only one bed there. And there were two people. Man. Woman. The equation fucking solves itself, right? It usually solved it in my situation. You came into my bed and you were getting fucked six ways from Sunday. If I was tired, you could sleep until morning. Most of the time, you were tossed on your ass to find a ride home.

I couldn’t do any of that with Harlee though.

I took off my leather cut and tossed it to my dresser. I kicked off my black boots and let out a breath of relief. One thing I learned running in this life was that you had to find ways to chill. For a minute. An hour. A few hours. That’s why we loved whiskey and pussy. They were easy drugs and worth the addiction.

As I stood there, thinking, I heard a knock.

The bedroom door was open though.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watched the bathroom door slowly open. I saw half of Harlee’s face, her dark eyes and wet hair.

My cock pulsed even more.

“Trent?”

“Yeah, darling?” I said.

“There’s no towel in here.”

I saw her cheeks flush a little.

I saw curved outline of her shoulder.

“Open that door and walk right out and get one,” I said with a grin.

She shut the door.

The truth was that if I wanted to see her naked that bad, nothing could stop me. Hell, the monster wouldn’t have stopped no matter what.

I went to the hallway closet and grabbed a fresh towel. It was pathetic to think but as I stared at the towel I realized it was going to feel every inch of Harlee’s wet body. Long before my tongue would get its chance.

I grabbed the doorknob and turned it. I opened the door just a sliver. “I have a towel for you, darling.”

She appeared again and opened the door just enough to slide the towel through. It was more than she had opened it the first time which meant I saw even more. A bare leg, the roundness of her hip, even a quick glimpse of the side of her breast.

The door shut again and I made a fist and put it to the door.

I can’t get too close… I can’t have it happen again…

**

She opened the door wearing nothing but a towel.

Are you trying to fucking kill me?

“I hate to ask,” she said, “but do you have a bandage or something for my knee?”

I looked down and saw the gash on her knee. It was nasty, fresh with blood, but it wasn’t dripping.

“What happened?”

“You,” she said.

“Me?”

“When you were running with me. I looked back and those guys had machine guns. I tripped and hit the ground. You kept going.”

“Sorry for saving your life.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she said.

“Come here and sit down.”

She sat on the edge of bathtub. I grabbed a bandage and turned to face her, on one knee. There was just a fucking piece of cloth keeping my eyes from devouring her entire body.

I touched the back of her leg and lifted. “Does it hurt?”

“Stings,” she said.

I focused on the gash. “It doesn’t look that deep. You’ll be fine.”

The towel was riding up her legs, inches from showing me her slit. I swore if I inhaled a deep enough breath I would smell her. That sweet scent, like honey.

I patched up her knee and started to stand, turning to try and hide my hard cock, but Harlee grabbed my hand.

“Thanks, Trent. For this. For trusting me. I’ll do anything, okay? I really can’t stand those guys over there.”

I nodded. “Just take it one day at a time right now. Trev was right. You have no idea what you stepped into here.” I broke my hand away from hers. “You can have the bed. I’ll be on the couch. I’ll make sure nothing happens. Get some sleep, darling.”

That was the last bit of conversation for the night between myself and Harlee.

An hour later, I had killed off another three beers. I sat on the edge of the couch, my gun on the table, empty beer bottles next to it, and my dick still aching. I then did something I hadn’t done in a long time.

I took care of myself…





twelve.



(harlee)

London Casey & Karolyn James's books