Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

Fuck. I didn't like anybody seeing past the barbed wire I put up in my cold face, least of all this wounded dove.

“Don't try to get all emotional on me, lady,” I growled. “If you think I'm soft, you'd better get your head checked. I've done plenty of shit I'll pay big for one fine day in hell. I don't worry a lot about morals, beyond what's best for keeping my own ass safe and what benefits the MC. I'm gonna help you get out of the quicksand, Meg, but that's where this ends. You don't wanna get attached. I'm not your friend. Just your ticket outta here.”

Her pale face softened. She nodded like she actually understood, fixing those glacial blue eyes on mine. I stared her down 'til she broke and blushed, then I slid out of my seat and grabbed her hand, leading her out to my bike.

We didn't say much as I drove her back to the clubhouse. She was probably getting tired now that her belly was full. I hoped it'd save me from having to deal with her anxiety tonight.

It was gonna be hell sleeping in the same room with this chick, feeling her pressed up against me. Damn if I'd let her make me feel anything else.

I had to stop thinking sex.

This * shortage wouldn't last forever. I'd find others – lots of other sluts – and by the time I did, this stolen princess would be outta my life. I'd let the Prez put her reward cash to good use while I fucked myself completely free of her.

Women were fuck toys, and a special few turned into old ladies. Not for me. The only pillow talk that ever interested me was the filthy kind.

The chick with her little hands pressed around my waist while we roared through the mountains needed more than that. She was too screwed up for drama-free pounding after what Ricky the shithead did to her.

I'd save her from my dick, and I'd save myself from the love and tears that I knew would come raining down.

This was just another job, another mission for the club. One more chance to get things right after we'd been staggering around drunk on too much danger and not enough cold, hard cash.

Nothing more. So help me God.

I showered like I always did with the door wide open to my little bathroom. Having a woman in the room never changed my habits, not even this broken hearted beauty.

Still caught her looking.

For some fucked up reason, that made me grin through the suds and hot water hissing over my face. Her soft blue eyes took little snatches of my body whenever she thought I wasn't looking, too blinded by the water to notice.

Whenever I looked back through the cheap shower door, she jerked her eyes away, hiding her beet red face behind this mystery story magazine I'd picked up for her at a gas station.

Little minx, I thought with a growl, feeling my cock blazing to life. Take a good, long look. It's only natural.

Don't care if you're too screwed up to fuck. It doesn't change the fact that I want it anyway. Want it, need it, feel it so bad I've got hot coals burning in my balls.

Before I finished, I reached down and grabbed my swollen cock, giving it at least a dozen hard, quick strokes with my slick hand. Didn't feel a tenth as good as her * would wrapped around me, and I knew she was looking.

Hell, her eyes stayed fixed in dumb amazement on my dick up 'til I ripped open the door and stepped out, wrapping the towel around every raging inch of me and tucking it around my waist.

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” I said with a smirk, stepping back into the room and grabbing my clothes.

She shrugged and shook her head furiously, too embarrassed for words. I walked back into the bathroom to change, wondering what kinda fireworks were going off in her head.

I wasn't stupid – I knew I shouldn't be teasing her like this after she'd just walked outta hell. But fuck, the girl needed a distraction.

If watching my dick took her mind off all the nasty things she'd suffered under Ricky, then I'd give her a peep show every fucking hour she was holed up in my room. Some strange, merciful part of me wanted to wine her, dine her, and fuck her 'til she couldn't remember her own name, much less what the last six months had been like.

My face turned psycho killer whenever I thought about it. I remembered Ricky, that sniveling, greedy piece of shit.

I would've killed him the night I went tearing down to save her if I wasn't in too deep a time crunch. I rolled on my jeans and looked at my gun, hanging on its holster. I pulled it out and felt the raw power in my hands, brought it over in my safe to lock up for the night, the same way I always did when I had a chick in the room.

Meg watched me walk out and put the gun away, slamming the safe shut with a loud clap.

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