Night After Night (Night Riders Motorcycle Club Book 1) by Kathryn Thomas Page B

resisting.
     
    “Just hold on,” he said as he swung his limbs against the handlebars. “We’re almost there.”
     
    And suddenly Lauren had no idea if that was something she desired or something she should fear and risk the chance of rope burns and the feel of her body being pulled through the desert.
     

CHAPTER NINE
     
    They arrived.
     
    Camp, home, whatever they wanted to call it, was little more than a series of shacks and tents concealed by tall craggy mountains. Lauren had no idea how far she had travelled from her breakdown to this point, but the way back seemed too long to even consider at such a late hour, and as Blake pulled her body from his bike, she felt exhaustion creeping though her veins.
     
    “What’s that about?” Blake asked.
     
    Without wanting to, her head fell to his shoulder, and his arms surrounded her shoulders as he started to lead her away from the rest of the group. Like her, Grace seemed numb as Paul managed to lift her into his arms, and he carried her towards a shack far larger than the others. Despite his gray hair and the deceptive lines crisscrossing his face, Lauren feared for the girl that had nearly been dragged to her death, and she struggled against Blake as he hauled her off in the opposite direction.
     
    “You’re coming with me now,” he said. “No more fucking distractions.”
     
    Lauren could almost do with another if it meant a chance of getting away from whatever awaited her in his shack, but Eric didn’t pop up. Grace didn’t scream. And she was led into Blake’s shack with only the slightest struggle.
     
    The room contained nothing but a full-sized bed, a battered desk and chair, and a few piles of unlaundered clothes. Surveying the scene, Lauren smirked as she glanced over her shoulder.
     
    “Couldn’t even clean up a little for me?” she asked.
     
    “Didn’t exactly know you were coming,” Blake said. “So there’s that.”
     
    Stretching to her full height in her whore’s costume, Lauren found the strength to press her hands to her leather-clad hips, her eyes blazing as she drank in the sight of him removing his jacket. “That’s a lot of ink,” she murmured as her eyes focused on his arms.
     
    “What’s it to you?” he asked as he tossed his leather jacket to the floor.
     
    “Nothing,” I said. “But I bet there are a lot of stories behind each tat.”
     
    Pulling off his shirt, Blake turned to a small fridge and cracked open a beer. But the sound seemed to fade into the distance as she saw the scars crossing his back. Unable to suppress a gasp, she watched with wild eyes as he faced her again.
     
    “You want to hear the stories behind these?” he asked.
     
    “I… no…”
     
    Lauren fell back to the bed, and in a split second, Blake was before her, on top of her, and he gripped her arms as he peered into her watering eyes.
     
    “Let me fill you in, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve got blood on my hands and the scars to prove it. So don’t think that you can scare me.”
     
    As she trembled, that seemed almost impossible, and Lauren was still as he stroked her face. “But I think I do,” Lauren whispered.
     
    Blake pulled back, his hand still on her face, and he laughed as he shook his head. “Why? Because you tried to help the other one?” he asked. “Paul had her back.”
     
    “What’s he doing to her now?” Lauren asked.
     
    Blake stood slowly, and she winced when he undid his belt. His jeans fell to the floor with a light thud, and as he kicked off his boots, he pulled a battered chair from its lonely corner and sat slowly, his pulsing cock throbbing between his fingers.
     
    “He’ll take care of her,” Blake said. “You want me to do that, too?”
     
    Starting to her feet, Lauren focused on the door and thought about trying to make another break for it.
     
    “That’s not happening.” Blake seemed to read her mind, and his hold tightened around her wrist as he pulled her close.
     
    She