Copper (RBMC: Tulsa, OK Book 2) Page 6

  “I’ve never had to rape a woman,” I rumble, grinding against her. “I never will either.”

  A whimper escapes her and she bites on her bottom lip, unable to hide how much she likes what I’m doing to her.

  “I know you have me built up to be a monster in your head, but you can just quit that shit right now. I’m a man who does what he has to in order to protect his family. That includes the Royal Bastards.” I cup her breast over her bra, appreciating the way it fills my hand. “And you may be my captive, but that includes you too, little storm.”

  She hisses when I curl a finger beneath the cup of her bra so I can rub across her nipple. Her breath catches when I pull back the cup, revealing the pale skin to me. I pinch at the tender flesh that’s peaked and begging for attention. Her thighs clench around my hips.

  “Stop, motherfucker,” she spits out.

  I tug my hand away, pleased when her eyes turn dull with barely hidden disappointment. Rather than pinch her nipple some more like I want to, I grip her jaw, holding her face still so I can see her eyes when I finally make her come. The fiery hatred mixed with lust returns in her gaze. Like the brave bitch she is, she glowers at me. Unable to stop myself, I brush a kiss against her soft lips and keep my mouth near hers so when she begins to pant, her hot breath tickles my face.

  “Oh God,” she chokes out, her eyes fluttering closed.

  I work my hips harder and faster, wishing like fuck my dick was bare and inside her instead. She comes with a yelp and then her entire body trembles with her orgasm. Slowly, I ease off my punishing pace until I’m simply resting against her.

  “Now, you’re going to drink that soup like a good girl,” I rumble, stroking my thumb over her bottom lip. “And then you’re going to tell me every detail of Collins and Vidal you can remember.”

  I pull away from her and stand. Her eyes fall to the way my dick strains in my work slacks.

  “Keep staring at it like you want it in your mouth, Stormy, and I’m going to put it in your mouth. Eat the soup, woman.”

  She scoots to the edge of the bed, wincing when she lowers her injured foot to the ground. I pick up the bowl of broth and sit beside her before handing it to her. As she sips on it, I grab the blanket to wrap over her shoulders.

  “Tell me everything you can remember.”

  She turns her head, her blue eyes studying me. “We already discussed it all last night.”

  “There’s been a new revelation. Someone placed an anonymous call to my superior stating we need to look into the Royal Bastards MC.”

  Her features pinch into a frown. “It has to be Collins and Vidal.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Why are they so fixated on you guys?” she ponders aloud before sipping on her broth. “None of this makes any sense.”

  “We have to make it make sense real fucking quick, though. Right now, they have an edge on us. Tell me everything about what they were wearing, what they looked like, and where Collins’s office was. I need to know every detail so I can give Koyn as much as I can.”

  She gulps down the rest of the broth before setting the bowl down on the end table. “I’m cold.”

  “That’s what happens when you run through the woods in the dead-ass of winter wearing nothing but a hoodie,” I grind out. “Stop stalling.”

  “I’m not stalling,” she snaps. “I can’t feel my fucking toes. Run me a bath and I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Fuck my life.

  If Filter saw me running this bitch a bath and feeding her soup like she’s a goddamn princess, he’d shoot us both in the heads. Thank fuck he’s not here.

  “Fine. But you’re not bathing alone. I’m going to sit my ass in that bathroom and get answers. You can take or leave the deal.”

  “I’ll take it.” She glowers at me. “Asshole.”

  My palm itches to flip her onto her stomach and take a hand to her ass again. Instead, I curl my hand into a fist and storm out of the bedroom toward the master bath. I start a hot bath and locate some old bubble shit Krista left behind from when she and I were still married. I’m just dumping it in when I feel Stormy’s presence. She limps into the bathroom, looking pitiful as fuck.

  I walk over to her and tug the blanket from her grip. She curls her arms around her waist, not looking me in the eye. Since her hand is fucked up, I take it upon myself to help rid her of the rest of her undergarments. With a quick flick of my fingers, I unhook the back of her bra and then pull the straps off her shoulders. She uncrosses her arms, allowing the bra to hit the floor. Shamelessly, I rake my greedy stare over her perfect tits. My dick is roaring to life once more as I admire the tanned round globes and hardened pink nipples.

  “They’re real,” she sasses. “Everyone always says they’re fake, but they’re not.”

  I cup one in my palm, squeezing hard enough she gasps. “Feels pretty real to me.”

  She smacks my hand away. “Don’t touch me, motherfucker.”

  A chuckle rumbles out of me as I stand behind her. Her red striped ass gets my dick really hard. I hook my thumbs into her thong and tug it down her thighs. The inside of her thong is wet from her arousal. I’d give my left nut to pick them up and inhale her scent. Unfortunately, Koyn will kick my ass if I don’t get answers soon. Sniffing her panties like some sort of lovesick dickhead isn’t going to get those answers. I squat down beside her and remove the compression wrap on her ankle so she can soak her foot in the tub.

  She cries out when I scoop her into my arms. Carefully, I lower her into the hot bath, soaking the arms of my jacket.

  “I’m going to change out of these clothes and then I want you to tell me everything. No more stalling.”

  Stormy

  I’m losing my mind.

  I thought Copper was the safest choice for captivity, but I’d been wrong. So wrong. He’s the worst choice because he’s just compassionate and good-looking enough that I drop my guard.

  Boy did I drop it.

  I’d loved the way his heavy body pressed into me, pinning me like I belonged to him. His rough, yet reverent touches sent me spiraling. It woke something up inside me that’s better off sleeping. I have no business getting turned on by a man like Copper.

  He fucking spanked me.

  I’m burning with rage over that fact, but even more angry because I liked it. I liked how after, he held me down and made me come. The soft, sweet way he brushed a kiss over my lips.

  Unlike the men before, Copper feels. He’s not a cold bastard like the rest. I’m not a body to sink his dick into. No, Jeremy fucking Koynakov is affected by me and isn’t afraid to act upon it. He’s no gentleman like I’d originally thought.

  I need to get my head out of the bedroom and into the game. There’s no way I can outsmart someone like Copper—an equal as far as occupation and personality go—if I’m swooning over him.

  Yuck.

  I hate that motherfucker.

  Those thoughts fade away like the steam from my bath when he returns. This time, he’s changed into a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, revealing cut V muscles on his bare torso that even someone like Dragon can’t achieve. Some men were born with good genes and Copper grabbed every single damn one up. Tattoos cover his chest and arms, but it’s the smattering of chest hair between his pecks and the dark trail leading below his waistband that have me damn near drooling.

  I’ve seen all of the Royal Bastards in some various state of undress having had to live with them for so long, but Copper was always elsewhere. When he did visit, he was fully dressed. I’ve never seen him like this. It chases away all my resolve. All I can do is stare at the way his abdominal muscles flex and tighten with each step.

  “Ready to talk?” His brows are furrowed as he places his hands on his tapered hips, once again drawing my attention to his delicious V. The cock that had been rubbing against me is visible beneath the fabric of his sweats—thick and long, even when not hard.

  “I’m thirsty,” I blurt out, unab
le to keep from licking my lips or even looking away from his stupid tempting cock.

  “Unbelievable.”

  He stalks out of the bathroom, taking all my crazed hormonal need with him. I gulp in a lungful of air, swiping through the sweat on my brow from the hot bath. My body thrums with need, but I’ll be damned if I ever ask Copper to fulfil that need.

  I try to think about the way I felt with Filter. It was always just sex. Good sex, but almost robotic. The emotions were never there for either of us. Filter kept his guard up and me essentially out, and he was always a means to an end for me. So, yes, we orgasmed plenty, but he never truly looked at me—seeing all the parts of me both good and bad.

  Copper, when he had me trapped beneath him on the bed, saw it all. He saw me at my worst. In the slaughterhouse when I fucked it all up. When I broke down in front of the dogs. How pitiful I was in the forest, injured and freezing. And, finally, when I came from his touch.

  I’ve always prided myself on being strong and unstoppable—like a storm. With him, I feel like a soft breeze, barely blowing through a field of wildflowers. Weak and uneventful. I’m nearly in tears of self-defeat when he returns. As soon as I see the bottle of icy cold vodka, I perk up. He unscrews the lid and offers me the bottle. My fingers brush against his strong ones. I yank the bottle back, trying not to be affected by his touch.

  He rolls up one leg of his sweats and sits on one corner of the tub. His foot sinks into the hot, bubbly water beside me. A thrill shoots through me when it brushes against my hip. I don’t move away from it like an idiot and revel in the way my nipples harden. Like we’re lovers and we actually like one another, his foot caresses me in an absent way.

  In another world, I could have been with someone like Copper. Had we met on the job and gotten to work together I know I would have fallen head over heels for the confident, sexy older man. I have no doubt he was good to Krista when they were married. And seeing how he looks at Nees, I know he was a good father too.

  But this is our fucked-up world.

  We didn’t meet taking down bad guys together. We met because he’s the bad guy and I’m trying to take him down alone. Another twist in my crazy-ass life. It shouldn’t be a surprise considering the life I’ve lived. Though it’s not a surprise, it still sucks. I can’t ever catch a break.

  Blinking back bitter tears, I swallow down the cold, burning liquid, seeking out the oblivion it offers.

  He leans toward me, his bicep flexing in a way that makes me want to lick it, and takes the cold bottle from my grip. I shamelessly watch as his full lips part and wrap around the bottle. He tips his head back and swallows. My gaze fixates on the way his Adam’s apple bobs. I wouldn’t mind licking him there too. Dragging my stare from his throat, I run it down along his firm pecks and back to his abs that may as well be cut from stone they’re so hard.

  A smirk tugs at his handsome mouth when he catches me staring. My face burns with embarrassment and I look away. His chuckle annoys me, but he hands me the bottle back, so I forgive him. I manage two long pulls from the bottle, loving the way the alcohol burns through my veins, numbing me from the inside out.

  “Talk, little storm.” His toes rub along my ribs, making me squirm, and I shoot him a death glare. He lifts a brow. “Ticklish?”

  “Fuck off, Copper.”

  All playfulness fades and he scowls. “I’m tired of your shit. Talk to me.”

  I let out a heavy sigh and shrug. “Vidal was cute. Hispanic. Dressed well. Charming. Collins was the older of the two men. Maybe your age. Salt and pepper hair but fit. Handsome. He was different than Vidal. There was a cold, calculating glint in his gray eyes. Like everything he does is with purpose.”

  “You remember where the building was?”

  “Downtown. Right at Second and Detroit. Not the nicest building but certainly not the worst. It was obscure and meant to blend in.”

  “Any signs you can remember?”

  “Just the Watcher’s Group sign.” I scowl at him. “I already told you everything, Copper. This is a waste of both our time.”

  He snatches the bottle from me and drinks another swallow. “You know as good as I do that each time you revisit something in your mind, you find more. Already, you’ve described what they look like, which is more than what you had for me the first time. Stop being a difficult bitch and think.”

  I know he’s right, but I hate that he is.

  It’s quiet as I try to remember that day. The bottle gets shared back and forth. Copper remains silent, his eyes speaking for him as they roam over my breasts that are slowly being revealed as the bubbles disappear. I can’t hide from him, so I don’t even try. In fact, I get a thrill when he licks his lips.

  Focus, girl.

  “Vidal wore a lot of jewelry. I thought it was strange for a man to wear that many rings, bracelets, and necklaces. It wasn’t in a feminine way either. Just almost flashy. Like he enjoyed showing off his wealth.”

  He nods, pleased at my new information, though it doesn’t feel helpful. “And Collins?”

  “He’s more mysterious. I could tell he even keeps Vidal outside of whatever goes on inside his head. Something about Collins felt darker and more sinister than Vidal.” I take the bottle back from Copper, noting how numb my fingers have grown. “There were no family pictures or decorations in his office. It all felt temporary. Like he could abandon it all in a moment’s notice.” I swallow down the liquid and close my eyes. Collins’s face fills my mind, making me shiver. “He had a scar that cut through his brow. I thought it made him look like a villain even though everything else about him outwardly portrayed differently.”

  “Good girl,” Copper rumbles, his eyes once again flitting to my tits. “I’m going to call Koyn. Sit tight. Don’t drown.”

  I flip him off, earning a deep, amused chuckle from him that sets my insides on fire. Greedily, I drink down the vodka as soon as he leaves, wanting to blot out the past few days of hell.

  I must have fallen asleep because I wake to strong arms lifting me out of the tub. I groan, shivering against the cold. Copper sits me down on the chilly bathroom counter, making me cry out. His features are dark and probing as he dries me off like I’m a child. Stupid me just lets him, drinking in his handsome features up close. His dick is hard in his sweatpants, leaving little to the imagination.

  He places the compression wrap back on my sore ankle and then wraps a new towel around my shoulders. Tears prickle my eyes, hating his gentleness, as he scoops me up again. I lean my head against the warm spot between his neck and shoulder, inhaling his masculine scent. He sets me down on his bed and then snags a T-shirt that’s been laid out. I’m feeling too drunk to hate the way he dresses me like he cares about me. Instead, I allow myself to enjoy it.

  Until he tries to drag me to the middle of the bed.

  As though I’m going to sleep with him.

  Anger chases off my drunken haze as awareness at my situation comes roaring in.

  I kick at him with my good foot, landing a perfect shot to his hard abs. He grunts and his eyes widen with a mixture of hurt and shock. For some reason, it makes me want to cry. I don’t cry, though, and try to kick him again.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” he growls, digging his powerful fingers into my thigh and dragging me toward him. My shirt bunches up under my breasts, exposing my pussy to him.

  “Don’t touch me! You think you can get me drunk and I’ll sleep with you! Fuck you, Copper!”

  I manage to smack him in the face with my good hand, startling him. It only serves to enrage him, not buy me time to escape. His fingers curl into my damp hair and he twists me onto my stomach, painfully yanking until my neck stretches at an odd angle. I whimper as fear douses my inner fire. The strength he possesses is terrifying. With another strong twist, he could easily break my neck.

  “I already told you,” he snarls against the side of my neck, his heavy body keeping me trapped against the bed, “you’re mine. I took responsibility for you,
which means if I want to touch you, I will. If I want to fuck you, I can. Stop thinking you run the goddamn show, Stormy.”

  I have no words for him, just silent tears that stream down my cheeks. A sob catches in my throat when he lifts his body up, fumbles from behind me, and then his thick, throbbing dick rubs along the crack of my ass. My entire body freezes.

  “Jeremy,” I whimper, hoping the use of his real name will stop him from what he’s about to do. I was stupid to goad him, especially with vodka in the mix. “Please don’t. I’ve never…”

  He releases my hair to gently stroke it away, exposing my shoulder. His kiss on my flesh warms me. “Never what, Brenda?”

  I cringe because when you throw out our real names, it almost feels like this thing between us is real. Not a captive and captor situation.

  “Anal,” I choke out. “It’ll hurt. I’m not ready.”

  Filter was the only man who wanted it, but I was too afraid to try. I’d already given up so much of myself that I didn’t want to give that up too.

  “Suck on my finger, little storm,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “Be a good girl and obey.” He presses his finger against my lips, and to my utter horror, I open to invite it in. Not only do I let it in, I suck on his callused flesh in a fervent way that I hope gains me favor. Based on the way he rubs his dick against my crack, I’d say he’s enjoying it.

  He pulls it out and then slides off me. His finger finds its way to my asshole and he teases the tight ring. I clench my cheeks, tears burning in my eyes.

  “Let me in, baby,” he croons. “I need to feel what’s been untouched by anyone. What belongs to me.”

  I’m drunk because his stupid words warm me to my toes. I relax my body, sucking in a breath when the tip of his finger breaches the hole. Fire burns through me, but I grit my teeth through the pain of it. All that can be heard is the ragged sound of our breathing as he slowly fucks my asshole. I’m afraid to move or utter a word.

  “So tight,” he murmurs. “You were right. You’re not ready for my big dick.”