Time Owed Page 12

  Barely an adult, he'd thought letting Roni hang with him and Moroad MC would straighten her out. It only got her deeper in the drugs and she'd ended up pregnant.

  Merk sat up and laid his arms on his bent knees. He couldn't think any more on his past tonight. "Are you warm enough?"

  "Yeah." She yawned and shot him a small grin. "It's relaxing up here by the water."

  The tension he'd carried all night eased to a pleasant buzz. Last time he'd brought Desi to the lake, he'd had sex.

  He stood and put his hand out to help her off the ground. "Let's go back to the bar and get you to bed."

  She stood, stumbled toward him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. His cock instantly hardened. He held her tighter.

  She looked out to the water and froze against him. All he had to do was take her top off, then her shorts. He'd settle between her legs and finally relieve the ache that never went away with Desi around.

  Crickets chirped back and forth around the edges of the lake filling the silence. Merk slid his hand up under her hair, clasped her neck, needing her eyes on him to remind him of what he'd set out to do. After spending years surrounded by those who guarded their eyes, hid their emotions, covered their thoughts, he craved to feel what only she could give him.

  Thirteen years ago, she gave him every emotion and in the end, total trust.

  "I don't understand what you want from me. What you're doing has nothing to do with protecting me against the people you call Reds," she whispered.

  "You don't need to understand." He kissed her forehead. If she realized he shot her dad, he'd lose any chance with her. And, he was selfish enough to want to protect himself.

  She sighed. "You haven't even tried to have sex with me. Last night, you let me...Merk, sex was all about me. I'm confused and I want to know how you feel about me."

  "You want me to fuck you?" He licked his bottom lip. If he tasted her mouth, he'd come away hungrier. "Is that what you want?"

  "Sometimes." She gazed up into his eyes. "More often, I can't shake the feeling that you're not telling me something I should know. It doesn't even make sense. Last night, I even thought..."

  "What?"

  "What you did for me, holding back, it reminded me of something and now I feel like I'm losing my mind. You're twenty years older than I am and haven't been out of prison very long. I don't want to think about you the way that I am, because I'm scared you're playing me. I don't even know if you have plans to stay around and your business with Moroad could put you back in prison."

  "Do you feel good when I’m around?"

  "No." She exhaled loudly. "You confuse me and leave me wanting to smack you half the time."

  "But?"

  She dipped her chin and whispered, "I like how you hold me at night."

  "Do you want me to do more than hold you?" He bent his knees to keep her gaze. "Last night, you needed one thing and I gave it to you."

  "God, don't mention it." She let her forehead fall to his chest. "I was possessed."

  He chuckled. "How about we go back and you can give me what I need."

  Her head snapped up and she whispered, "What do you need?"

  He hesitated. She'd never understand what he needed, or maybe she would and he'd scare her to death.

  "Tell me, and don't lie," she whispered.

  "Sometimes lies are the only thing that keeps me free," he whispered back.

  "I don't understand."

  "And, you never will." He kissed her to stop the questions. "The only thing I need is you. Tonight. Tomorrow. The next day. The day after that..."

  Her body tingled and she smiled. "I can do that."

  "Then let's get started." He kissed her, and then led her over to his Harley.

  She snuggled against his back, pressing her breasts between them. He rode slowly down the trail. His need to protect his reasons for being with her more important now than ever. He never expected her to assess his behavior and come to her own conclusions. Conclusions that made him uncomfortable.

  She came too close to figuring out the truth of why he'd come for her. If she ever found out his reasons for showing up at the bar the night he killed her dad, he'd break her.

  He rode to nowhere, needing to escape. Needing to outrun the damage he'd bring down on Desi. Needing to forget his promise he'd made to someone else before he destroyed them both.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Merk's hard body, warm under Desiree's touch, sat tense on the motorcycle. She held on tightly to his waist more aware of her own body and her need for sex than ever before. He finally gave her verbal proof of what he wanted after wondering for months.

  He wanted her. Not a one-night stand or a week-long sexcapade to purge his lust. He wanted her and the whole package.

  She smiled against his back, and hoped she could hold back her own cravings and give him more than he gave her last night. In a month, or however long it took him to send Reds away, his declaration might not seem like an endearing confession of love but for tonight, she'd take it.

  She had nothing to lose. She'd already lost everything and everyone.

  The temptation to be with him slithered around and choked her until she had no other option than to trust him if she wanted to breathe.

  He was an addiction in her fragile struggle to keep herself from falling apart. Since the moment he looked at her, her body stood up and noticed he had something she lacked, and she wanted him. She never wanted to lose him.

  Her vulnerability put her in a dangerous place, relying on a felon, a man who'd killed, assaulted, and spent time in prison. She laid her cheek on his shoulder and held on to the biggest mistake of her life and the most dependable person in her life.

  Scared.

  Excited.

  Delusional.

  She'd hopped on the most confusing ride with Merk and allowed him to take her to a destination unknown.

  Merk backed his motorcycle to the curb behind Rail Point Bar and grounded her to the realness happening between them. She slid off the bike and let him lead her through the building. Her finger hooked around his pinky. The tender connection he allowed made her brave.

  Upstairs in her apartment, she moved forward to her bedroom and Merk hung back in the living room. Half-distraught, she paced from the bed to the window to calm herself. Should she get undressed? Should she wait for him?

  She tried to guess what could be going through his head and came up empty. Her own needs and wants distracted her. She pressed her hand to her stomach, stifling her moan. He kept her in a constant aroused state without even trying.

  He could boss her around and her nipples peaked.

  One look from him and she squeezed her thighs together.

  Even at night, she dreamt about him.

  What was she doing? Suddenly her life revolved around a motorcycle club, gang members wanting money from her because of something her dad set up, and sealing her fate to a man who out of some weird obligation decided to protect her.

  A chill swept through her. She turned and found Merk standing in the doorway, his gaze locked on her. A shudder wracked her body and she gravitated toward him as if she'd waited for him her whole life.

  "Desi." His voice dark and gravelly rolled over her making her feel safe. "Take your clothes off and get on the bed."

  Her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans. His erection strained against the worn material. She bit her lip and backed up to the bed. Sitting, she took off her shoes, her top, her bra, and stood again to take her shorts and panties off.

  Stripped naked in front of him, she raised her chin as he advanced. A spiral of lust circled her stomach and she fisted her hands. No matter what they were doing, he always exuded control and wrapped her in the security of knowing he would take care of her.

  A weak moan escaped her lips, the memory of his kisses ran through her mind. Hard. Persistent. Warm. Intoxicating. Toe curling.

  He undid his belt, his button, his zipper of his jeans and walked over to the chair i
n the corner of the room. He unfastened his boots. Anxious and impatient, she followed him and bent down to help.

  "Get up and wait." He shook his head, hiding his eyes. "Don't ever kneel in front of a man, Desi."

  Her stomach twisted and goosebumps broke out along her flesh. She watched him take his time pulling off his boots, stripping out of his clothes.

  "You go commando?" She covered her mouth, not meaning to speak her thoughts. She'd never noticed before that he had nothing between him and his jeans. At night, he slept in the nude, while she slept in an old sweatshirt that reached her thighs and kept her panties on.

  He stood, his stomach tightening, making every ridge stand out. A moan bubbled forth and she kept her hand over her mouth. The perfect mix of rough, hard, and mysterious, he reminded her that there was nothing soft about him.

  She dragged her gaze up to his. He froze, one foot in front of the other.

  His nostrils flared and his jaw ticked. She physically felt him withdrawing from her, and she lowered her hand from her mouth. "Please, tell me what you expect from me."

  His eyes narrowed and his muscles along his shoulders bulged. His breath came hard, raising his chest with each inhale.

  "You're frightening me," she whispered.

  Their gazes locked, and the strength in his eyes squeezed her heart. He refrained from touching her, but he wanted to and she could see the control he fought to contain.

  His chest muscles twitched. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she swallowed. The gulp broke Merk's mood.

  His eyes softened and his hand went to his cock, stroking the hardness. "Get on the bed."

  She slid her bare feet along the floor, bumping the back of her legs into the mattress. His tattoos covering his shoulders and half of his chest distracted her. Words—Freedom, Moroad, Life, Never Forget were etched in between crude pictures of women's breasts, sprawled legs, and numbers. None of the tattoos made sense, though Merk's story was clear. Some people doodled while talking on the phone. Merk inked his body while serving time in prison and used his skin as his paper to draw whatever emotion came over him.

  "Did they hurt?" She scooted to the middle of the bed.

  He put his knee on the mattress, forcing her to lie down, and hovered over her body. "Yes."

  "Then why so many?" She traced the number twelve on his bicep.

  His chin dropped and he stared at her finger roaming over his skin. "To remind me, so I don't forget."

  She sucked in her breath. A hard life scarred him, and she doubt if anyone had ever heard what he'd lived through.

  "How did you get the scar on your face?" She traced the flesh colored line down his cheek.

  "Prison fight." He lowered his voice. "Are we done talking?"

  She tugged his beard and smiled. "For now."

  "I'm not using a condom." He put his cock at her wetness.

  She widened her legs in reply. She was safe. He was safe. Her birth control pills would protect her.

  His wet mouth captured her nipple. She cried out in pleasure and sank her hands in his hair, holding him to her, never wanting him to stop. Her body wound tight and moved underneath of him. She couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop.

  He shifted to the other breast and lowered his hand between her legs. She moved with his finger and shuddered when he rolled over her clit. The suction from his mouth left sparks in its wake.

  Her body moved in all directions, unable to decide what she liked better. His mouth. His finger. His bulk. The noise coming from her throat only encouraged him.

  He slipped his thumb inside her, stroking her hard and fast. Her back bowed and her legs trembled. Delicious pressure rocked her insides. She panted, moving her pelvis with the rhythm of his hand.

  "Merk?" She grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled him off her breast.

  His gaze locked on to her, startling and then comforting. She gasped. "I want you inside me. All of you."

  He removed his hand and placed his cock at her entrance. Lights flashed in her vision and she closed her eyes, arching her neck.

  Losing control, she cried for more. Instead of plunging inside of her, he slid in slowly, withdrawing, and little by little inched his way in. She stretched at the fullness. Her muscles spasmed, holding him tightly.

  His head came up. "I need your eyes."

  She tried, but the buildup of an orgasm controlled her whole body. God, the sweet torture. She couldn't stop.

  "Desi," he said, deepening his voice on a growl. "I need your fucking eyes on me."

  She opened her eyes. Her scream from the effort it took to do what he asked cut off mid throat. Her entire body unraveled in a catastrophic release.

  It was there, right at that moment, staring up into his ice blue eyes, she witnessed Merk claim ownership of her. It was right then that she recognized the eyes holding her down. It was right then that she understood why he'd shown up and never left her.

  "James?" she cried, grabbing his face, holding him captive.

  "Fuck." He frantically pounded into her, holding her tighter. "God damn it, Desi. No."

  The world tilted at the same time her body responded. She gasped, sobbed, and scratched his flesh in a desperate attempt to keep him here. Afraid he'd slip away before she could ask him why he'd pretended to be someone else, she cried his name.

  The name she associated with the man who'd saved her life and became her ideal fantasy.

  At the worst moment of her life, he'd left her with a promise to return.

  Her past exposed, she remembered every detail of how he'd stayed with her, helped her get away from the bad men, and promised to come back. She'd thought about him constantly growing up and wanted to make sure he was okay, that the men never caught him. For the first time, with Merk inside of her, she was truly free of the nightmare of her childhood.

  "Those fucking eyes." He grunted, thrusting and withdrawing, only to plunge harder. "Twelve years. Trusted me."

  His body jerked as the waves of his orgasm pummeled his body. He threw back his head, breaking contact with her and groaned. It was not the sound of a man lost in the throes of pleasure she'd expected, but pain ripped from the deepest part of him, bleeding him dry.

  The moment he stopped, he pulled out, and left the bed. She scrambled to her butt. "Merk?" she whispered.

  He picked up his clothes, his boots, and walked out of the room without even looking at her.

  "Merk," she screamed. "Don't leave me alone."

  The silence penetrated her skin. She shivered, rolling to her side and drawing her knees to her chest. The comfort he brought into her life once again stolen from her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  What the fuck had he done?

  He'd wasted years in a cell, haunted by the girl behind the green eyes, and caved the moment she looked at him while he was between her legs. He sat at the empty bar, staring at the bottle of whiskey in front of him. The loud voices in his head pushed him to take a drink to end his pain.

  He'd put those emotions in an innocent girl, created her, molded her, and changed her life when he'd murdered her father. God Damnit, he owned her.

  She gave him strength and in the end, made him weak.

  Weak for her.

  Weak for the emotions she willingly handed to him.

  She'd destroy him.

  He'd lose.

  He'd fail. Again.

  Only the strong survived. He grasped the bottle, weighing the heaviness in his hand. He hurt worse than any time in his life. Every other crime, death, disaster paled in comparison.

  One drink and he'd soon fail to recall how he'd forced her to look at him. He could forget about the promise he'd kept when he broke into the bar to kill Carlyle.

  She'd never know what brought him to the bar the night he killed her father or the promise he'd sworn never to tell. He'd leave before he'd ever tell Desi the truth. He'd never put that kind of pain on an innocent woman.

  Not her.

  Not his Desi.


  He stepped into the basement, out of sight of the argument going on in the other room. His fingers tightened around the pistol. He swore on his life he'd kill Jerry Carlyle and tonight he'd fulfill his promise.

  A movement out of the corner caught his attention. He squinted, wondering why the hell a kid would be down in the basement of the bar.

  "Hey, little girl," he whispered, squatting down beside the furnace. "You need to get out of here."

  Crouched between the cement wall and the heater, a slim, blonde haired, young girl stared up at him with big, green eyes. "I can't...I'm scared."

  "What are you scared of?" He frowned, hearing the raised voices in the other room.

  "The bad men. I'm not supposed to be down here without Pop." Her eyes welled up with tears. "Will you help me?"

  With his hard attitude and second-hand clothing, no one ever looked at him and mistook him for a good guy. His chest tightened. He'd come to kill Carlyle and make him pay for what he'd done.

  A heavily accented voice came from the other room. "You're done, Carlyle. We're not going to give you another chance. We'll take the girl. She's prime for selling. She'll be worth more than your debt in Mexico."

  "Fine, you can have my daughter, but don't kill me," said Carlyle.

  The little girl whimpered. He glanced back down at the girl, realizing she was Carlyle's kid. Disgust fueled his temper. He accepted the odds of walking out of the bar alive, and decided to move ahead and finish his promise he'd made years ago. If he were lucky, he'd also save the little girl's life.

  "I'll save you, but you'll have to hide for a few more minutes. Can you do that?" Merk lowered his voice. "Can you trust me?"

  "Yes." Her long, blonde hair fell over her forehead. She picked up his hand and pressed it to her chest. "Will you come back for me?"

  Her heart raced under his palm, alive, filled with hope. He swallowed, taking in the broken expression, the doubts. She wanted to believe in him and suddenly, he wanted more than anything to be remembered as the man who'd saved her life. "Yeah."

  He stood, putting his finger to his lips. She mirrored him, putting a shaky finger to her plump lips. He smiled in approval, pulled his pistol out of the back of his jeans, and walked into the other room.