Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(15)

That did it. My fingers smoothed their way through her hair, and then I pulled it tight. I forced her to look at me through the tears.

I had an incredible ear for bullshit. Always had.

This chick's story sounded like a drugged out fairy tale, but damn if she didn't put up a good act. “It's not too late, Skin. Take me with you. I'll do anything to get out of here.”

Her tongue flicked across her lips. Her small, soft hands pushed against my chest. Those palms traveled downward, and I saw lightning in her eyes when she moved them over my abs.

My cock screamed, begging me to take her, to do the one crazy thing I couldn't. Not today, anyway.

Not after the shit she'd just told me. I wasn't gonna f*ck an honest-to-God slave, no matter how hot she looked in that cheap getup. Not unless she surrendered willingly with nothing more than unbridled lust.

No bullshit. No quid pro quo. No bargaining.

Fuck. I grabbed both her wrists and pushed her away, putting some sorely needed space between us.

A man can't think rationally when he's been without a woman this long. Especially a man who's used to getting what he wants, f*cking women with ease, feeling them fall all over him just because he's got the right patch and a hard, inked body underneath it.

“I can't do it,” I growled, eyeing the disappointment in her face. “There's no way to know you're not putting up a smokescreen 'til I check you out. I get it, I asked, but what the f*ck do you think I'm supposed to do with a question like that? Throw you on the back of my bike and ride off into the sunset after I shoot the pimp in the gut and leave him here to bleed like a stuck f*ckin' pig?”

Her eyes shined hopefully. Damn if it didn't sound good to me, too, but I'd been in this lifestyle long enough to know it was too simple. Too convenient. We couldn't be reckless – not when the Deads were certain to come sniffing around a dead pimp under their protection.

Dust and Joker would give me hell if it went off like that too. I had to go back, check this woman out, and clear it with my brothers. If rescue was in the cards, then I needed backup. There wasn't another way, not if I wanted to keep my sanity and make sure we all stayed alive.

“If you gave a shit, you would,” she said coldly.

I narrowed my eyes, wondering what kind of sexy, strange little thing I was really dealing with. Challenges didn't scare me away, but damn if she wasn't asking for the impossible.

I had to prove her wrong. I had to get her the f*ck out of here, and trash the dirty pimp keeping these drugged out chicks chained up like dogs.

“I'll look you up, Meg, and I'll be back.” She shuddered as I grabbed her, jerked her close, pinned her in my embrace.

“Bullshit. I shouldn't have said anything.” She sighed, her voice straining with more sadness. “You men are all the same. You're the first one I thought might be decent enough to save me, and I told you everything. I can't believe what a f*cking idiot I am.”

My fingers pinched her cheeks, hard enough to shut her the hell up. Then I folded my hands behind her soft, fragile neck and pulled the heavy silver loop off my ringer finger.

My eyes pierced hers. I'd let her keep clucking about how bad I was. Didn't give a shit if she thought I was the devil himself.

“I slipped up,” she whimpered. “Go ahead. Leave me here. Pretend you didn't hear anything.”

Just a few more days. She'd see how flat out wrong she was.

“I'm telling you, I'm coming back. Take this and stuff it somewhere he won't find it,” I said, pressing my ring into her hands. “You'll give it back to me when I break you outta here for good. This is a club ring and a family heirloom of sorts. My brothers tugged this thing off my old man's dead, cold fingers. It's all I've got. If you think I'm gonna abandon ship, then you'd better take a good, hard look at who you're dealing with. That ring's mine, babe, and so are you. I'm not leaving either one of 'em to rot in this shithole.”

I fist-thumped my chest, right across my name tag. I wanted to burn my name into her brain every waking minute.

She'd better get used to hearing, thinking, seeing Skin, and nothing else. That was the name she'd be calling her savior soon, the one she'd be begging with those lush little lips, the only name she'd be screaming when I threw her into bed and f*cked her so hard I wiped away every last trace of the dirty, violent bastards she'd served in this place.

“Give me a couple days or so. I'll be right back here for you, baby, and next time you'll be coming with me. I promise.”

Her lips pursed sourly. For a second, I thought she meant to give me more sass, more of her ridiculous doubts. But she squeezed her palm around my dad's club ring and brushed away more tears.

“I need to go. He'll start wondering what the f*ck we're doing in here if I linger too long.” I gave her a sharp look. “Keep that thing safe. I'm counting on it. Anytime you start to doubt, think you're meant to be here forever, you pick it up and fold your hand around it just like that. Hold on 'til it burns your skin. You don't belong here, Meg, and I'm not letting you spend a second longer in this f*cked up cage the instant I get my brothers on board.”

I put one arm over her shoulder, guiding her to the bed. Tears rolled down her face in steady, hot rivulets. I brushed away as many as I could, feeling her jerk softly each time I touched her face.