Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(22)

So, that was where she'd gotten it. I kept walking, following him out to his bike, inwardly laughing off the creepy coincidence. The old lady had to have seen them on her way out, too, and maybe she'd slipped up when she meant to say “blue moon.” Just like Joker said.

Out here, the moon hung big and brilliant red in the sky. Even Joker stopped for a second to stare up at it, whistling into the darkness.

“Fuck me with a bottle. Ain't ever seen a big, red bastard like that hanging in the sky for years. Maybe never.” He turned to me with a wicked smile on his face. “Might be the end of the world tonight, babe. We'd better f*ck like rabbits.”

“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes, locking my hands tight around his powerful waist, resting my chin on his shoulder so I had a perfect angle to whisper into his ear. “Is that how you celebrate the end? We were going to do that anyway, right?”

“Damned straight,” he growled, reaching behind us for a second to squeeze my thigh.

My pulse quickened. Blood moon or not, we were getting into some seriously sexy mischief tonight.

Yeah. If only things had gone down that way.

When we took off down the road, I didn't know I was living the last happy moments of my life. It took me a few more weeks to realize how deadly, ominous, and hungry that evil moon in the sky really was.



*

“Joker, no! Their lights are on – this place isn't abandoned at all!” Giggling, I flattened my hands on his chest, pushing desperately. “We can't do it here with people around.”

He'd already buried me underneath him, staring down at me with that feral gleam in his hazel eyes. “Fuck if I care. You can bury your face in my palm again if you want so Farmer Jones don't hear you screaming.”

I kicked my legs. “I do care – especially if they come out here with a shotgun to kick us out!”

I didn't have a clue who owned this place. Normally, his judgment was spot on finding secret places for us out in the country.

Fucking outdoors certainly hadn't lost its charm since I'd gotten my own place. We did it often, whenever the urge took hold while riding through the countryside.

“Babe, trust me, there ain't gonna be any trouble tonight,” he growled, silencing me with a long, sticky kiss. “Calm your sweet ass down, or I'll pull down those pants and spank the shit outta you 'til you do.”

I stuck my tongue out. He talked like an animal – and I must've gone insane because it turned me on.

“Don't f*ckin' tempt me, Summertime. You think I'm bluffing?”

Heavens, no.

I nodded anyway, pulling back when he tried to bury his lips on mine again.

Teasing a man like this was playing with fire, yeah, but it was the most exquisite kind of fire a woman could get.

That did it. I tried not to squeal as he lifted me up, throwing me over his shoulder, just enough to undo my belt and yank down my jeans. I kicked hard, thrashing so he couldn't get them all the way off.

He loved the bad girl act. So did I.

Hell, he'd already introduced me to a lot of things I hadn't expected to ever love. The biggest one was staring at me, the bastard himself, giving me a look that said this was way more serious than foreplay.

“Stop moving or I'll hoist you up right here in the field while we f*ck,” he rumbled in my ear, hot and low as summer thunder.

“No!” I whimpered, shaking my head.

“Yeah, f*ck yeah, baby girl. I don't bullshit, and you know it. Keep wrestling, your pants are gone. I'll spank the shit out of you, f*ck you where the bastards in the house can see, and leave your clothes here in the dirt. You can take the bitch seat on my bike completely naked.”

Oh. My. God.

I stiffened in his arms. The insane threat lit every nerve I had on fire.

He couldn't possibly be serious – could he?

Between the panic, my * gushed, lost in the heatwave of anger and filthy desire smashing together.

His threats scared me, aroused me, and tempted me all at once.

I was still trying to decide whether to slap his face and see if he'd make good on it when his hand caught the back of my jeans and pulled.

Cool wind kissed my bare cheeks. His eyebrows shot up. I drank in the surprise on his face and grinned.

“No f*ckin' panties? Shit!”

“Told you, I'm full of surprises. You haven't gotten me figured out yet, Joker.”

A low growl began building in his throat. I'd heard it a couple dozen times by now, and I loved it every single time. I braced myself, ready to be thrown down on the ground while he tore at my clothes, hurled into a desperate heat to f*ck me senseless.

But a loud ringing went off next to us.

I gasped. My heart leaped into my throat, and for a bitter second, I thought we'd really been caught by the people who lived here.

No, it was something else – his phone. He carefully set me back on the ground. I reached for my pants, pulling them up while he turned his back, staring at the phone he'd jerked from his pocket.

“What the f*ck? Grandpa's number?” Joker muttered. He tapped a key and held it up to his ear. “Grandpa? What's up?”

I leaned in. There was nothing but static on the other end, a faint crackling that didn't resemble voices.

White noise. Vague and chilling.