Riding Steele

Book 0: Ready to Ride

by Opal Carew

Genres: Literary Fiction; Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Being kidnapped by bikers is a harrowing experience, but for some reason Laurie doesn't feel as terrified as she should. The leader's steely eyes soften when he looks at her, and the others in his gang clearly know she's hands off. But does that include Steele's hands? Her brain resists him, but her body insists she wants those big hands all over her. Steele doesn't know how he wound up in this mess — with a kidnapped woman on his hands and the police hot on their trail.

Now he and Laurie are in hiding at an isolated cabin, and Steele has to figure out how to extricate himself...and steer clear of his accidental captive, whose tight, slinky clubbing attire is making him think all kinds of dangerous thoughts...

A Macmillan Audio production.

Release date: March 17, 2015

Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Print pages: 288

Sample

Kidnapped



"Is that the woman Killer's friend wants us to kidnap?"

Steele glanced in the direction Shock was looking. Steele and his men were sitting in a pub called Big Rigg that had heavy wooden tables and a rustic atmosphere. A woman walked toward one of the high tables at the bar where a suited man and a couple were sitting. He recognized the newcomer from the pictures of Craig's sister that Killer had shown him.

They didn't do her justice.

Steele nodded. "That's the one."

Her name was Laurie and she was stunning. Long, glossy, dark brown hair that careened loosely over her shoulders, beautiful big eyes, a pert nose, and lips that begged to be kissed. And her body. Damn! Every heart-stopping curve was showcased in her short, snug, black dress. His eyes followed the long, slim line of her torso to the arc of her hips, then down the longest legs he'd ever seen. Slim and shapely, ending in glossy black stilettos studded with rhinestones. How she could walk in those heels-which had to be at least six inches high-he didn't know, but every man in the bar must be thanking his lucky stars at the sight of her glorious swaying ass. He allowed his gaze to make a leisurely climb upward before stopping at her breasts. Round, firm, and snugly cocooned in the tight black dress.

The hint of cleavage in the deep-V neckline caused his body to tighten. His fingers itched to wrap around those glorious breasts. To feel the softness in his hands. To stroke the nipples with his thumbs.

Fuck, his cock was swelling painfully in his jeans.

But this was someone's sister. Craig, Killer's friend. And Craig wanted to protect her.

Steele knew what that felt like. Thoughts of Chrissy shattered his mood. Dead at eighteen. Pain slashed through him. No matter how much Steele had tried to protect his younger sister, had tried to steer her from hanging out with the wrong crowd, headstrong Chrissy had ignored his sage advice and done whatever the hell she'd damned well pleased. And died of a drug overdose.

Now he'd been offered a chance to help another brother save his sister from a bad situation. He had been fucking tempted to do exactly what Craig had drunkenly suggested when they'd partied together with Killer the night before, but Steele drew the line at kidnapping.

Raven leaned close to Rip. "What are they talking about? Are we going to kidnap someone?" She grinned. "Is that part of Steele's birthday celebration?"

"No," Rip answered. "When we were drinking with Killer yesterday, he introduced us to a friend who kinda asked us to kidnap his sister. She's been dating this guy and he's concerned about her. He left to go out of town today, but he has a bad feeling. He wanted us to keep her safe until he gets back."

"I think he just wanted to get her out of the picture for a while," Shock said, "to make the guy think she's dumped him, hoping he'd move on to another woman."

"That's crazy." Raven sipped her beer. "The sister would never forgive him and the minute she got back, she'd go find the boyfriend and explain."

"He's desperate," Steele said. "For some reason, he thinks this guy is really bad news. He's trying to protect his sister, and I get that. But we're not kidnapping her."

Raven eyed the well-groomed man in the expensive suit standing beside Laurie at the bar.

"He looks like the kind of guy most brothers would want their sisters involved with. He dresses well and probably makes a good living."

She grinned at Steele. "I'm actually surprised Killer's friend would want her in your hands rather than his. Wouldn't he worry that she'd be in danger of being manhandled by you and the rest of your crew?" She started fanning herself with a big grin on her face. "Whew! Is it getting hot in here?"

"I don't understand either," said Steele. "I got the impression he's close with Killer, and since Killer vouched for us and the guy has no other options, he was willing to take a chance. Then again, the guy could be stupid and crazy, which is why I don't want to get too wrapped up in this mess."

"Well, I think we should do it. I'm all for having another chick around." Shock stared at the woman's ass. "Especially one as gorgeous as that."

"Are you tired of me already, Shock?" Raven asked.

He grinned. "Never, babe. But access is limited with this possessive man of yours." He nodded toward Rip.

Steele laughed. Rip was pretty generous with his woman.

"Even if we did kidnap her, which is not going to happen, it wouldn't be like that," Steele said. "She'd be under our protection. My protection. Right?"

They all muttered in affirmation, but it was all for show. None of these men would force themselves on a woman. And it was moot anyway.

He had decided to come here tonight to check out the situation, though. He could at least do that much. And keep an eye on her, from a distance, until her brother, Craig, got back in town.

"So, Steele, now that we've satisfied Killer's friend's request and checked that the sister's okay," Shock said, "how about we get on with celebrating your birthday?"

"We've got time for one more beer before we go meet Dom and Magic." Steele hailed the waitress.

* * *

Laurie sat on the stool beside Donovan, tugging on the hem of the short black dress. He had sent it to her this afternoon, along with the death-defying heels, insisting she wear the outfit tonight for their six-month anniversary.

She felt overdressed for this pub, but Donovan liked it here. It had its own microbrewery and Donovan was partial to a black lager they specialized in, as well as a stout with undertones of bitter sweet chocolate. She also suspected he liked being in a place where he and his wealth stood out from the average person.

Donovan's friends Joan and Henry sat across the small rectangular bar table from them.

She hated being on display like this, and she hated feeling outside her depth with a man, but Donovan's controlling nature kept her off-balance and unsure of herself, even though in all other areas of her life, she'd always been strong and independent.

That's why she'd decided that tonight she would end it. Well, she had decided that, but when he'd announced they were celebrating an anniversary, she'd decided she should wait a few days.

He picked up his glass containing a beer as dark as cola, and finished the last of it, then pushed it aside. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her tight to his body. She tried not to cringe, but he noticed the slight tensing of her body, so he pulled her tighter.

"I know it was a surprise that Joan and Henry are joining us for a drink, love, but I promise it won't be all evening. They just wanted to toast our anniversary and wish us well. Surely you don't mind?"

"No, of course not." She smiled at Joan. Laurie hardly knew either of them, but Henry was an old friend of Donovan's.

In fact, she was glad they had joined them. She didn't really want to be alone with Donovan. Their relationship had been getting more and more out of control, as he became more demanding and ... well, almost abusive.

She knew she had to break it off, but he was ... intimidating.

A waitress arrived at the table and set flute glasses in front of each of them and a barman arrived with a bottle of champagne-Dom Pérignon, no less. He popped the cork, then filled each of their glasses.

Donovan lifted his glass. "To a wonderful anniversary, and many more."

Laurie lifted her glass and clinked it against the others, feeling like a total liar. She wanted out of this relationship as fast as she could get out.

But she sipped her wine.

"Now for your gift." Donovan reached into his pocket and removed a long, velvet box adorned with a small shiny gold bow. Instead of handing it to her, he snapped it open and showed it to her. Diamonds glittered against the dark blue velvet lining of the box.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Joan exclaimed. "Is it a bracelet?"

"It's a necklace." Donovan lifted the sparkling gift from its nest of velvet. It was four rows of stunning diamonds wide. "Let me put it on you."

She knew there was no point in arguing. He would win and she would come off looking unappreciative and spoiled.

She lifted her hair and he wrapped the necklace around her neck, then fastened it.

It was more a collar than a necklace, hugging her neck closely. She felt like she would choke from it. It reminded her of the last time they'd made love, if you could call it that, when his fingers had wrapped around her throat in a choking hold as he'd thrust into her from behind. Her wrists had been chained, so she couldn't push away his hands, and when she'd tried to protest, he'd tightened his hold until she couldn't utter words. The only sound she could make were just whimpers of frustration.

She had almost fainted as he'd taken his own pleasure and left her gasping for breath.

Before that, his dominant sexual demands had pushed her limits in ways she hadn't liked, but that time had shown her he could be dangerous. And it had become crystal clear that he cared not a whit about her pleasure.

She gazed at him. "Thank you."

She could tell he knew she was thinking about the other night, and he smiled. He loved wielding control over her. Instead of drawing his hands away from her neck, his fingertips stroked the front of her throat. She half expected him to wrap his other hand around her neck and squeeze until she lost consciousness. But that was foolish. He would never do anything like that ... in public.

Still, she had trouble breathing normally. He dragged his fingertips along the edge of the necklace, then drew her hair back from her shoulder.

"What do you think, Joan?" he asked, his hand resting on Laurie's shoulder.

Joan stared at Laurie's neck with obvious admiration, and a touch of jealousy. "It's absolutely stunning. You're a lucky girl, Laurie."

Donovan smiled. "And I'm sure she'll show me her gratitude later tonight."

He said it in a light tone, the kind any guy might use while making a joking innuendo, and everyone laughed, but Laurie knew better. He expected her to thank him properly, and thoroughly. And if she didn't meet his expectations, he would punish her.

And even if she did ...

He leaned in and nuzzled her neck. "I can hardly wait." The hand on her shoulder slid to the base of her neck and he squeezed, reminding her of what he liked.

* * *

Wild Card grabbed another handful of the nachos covered in meat, cheese, and salsa, and dropped them onto his plate.

"Why bother with the plate? You're going to be finishing those on your own." Shock tossed back the rest of the beer in his glass and stood up.

"You guys really going?" Wild Card asked.

"We told you we were leaving after this beer, but you pulled a typical Card Trick and ordered them."

"I'm not finished with my beer."

Steele chuckled as he stood up, too. "That makes one of us. Just join us later, man."

The others all stood up except Rip, who was staring across the bar.

"You coming?" Raven ran her hand over his shoulder affectionately and squeezed.

Rip dragged his gaze from the woman in the black dress across the bar to look at Raven. "Yeah, of course, baby."

But then he turned and leaned close to Wild Card. "Look, keep an eye on her, okay?"

"Why? What's up?" Wild Card asked.

"Something's not right. The guy just gave her an expensive-looking necklace, but she doesn't seem too happy about it. And check out the dress. She's not comfortable in that or the shoes."

Wild Card glanced at the woman who was staring at her tall stemmed glass. He had seen when the guy had flashed a box with a glittering necklace inside and then fastened it around the woman's neck, but he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. She hadn't bubbled all over the guy, but some women were more subdued in their reactions. He hadn't thought anything of it. But Rip, he was an ex-cop and he could read people. If he said there was something wrong, Wild Card wouldn't question it.

And he didn't question why Rip would suggest he keep an eye on her. Steele had taken an interest in her, for whatever reason, so that put her under Steele's protection. That meant she was also under the protection of every man who rode with Steele.

Wild Card nodded and Rip stood up, then followed Raven toward the door.

Wild Card watched the woman as he ate his nachos. She was hot as all get-out, and that body-hugging dress was spectacular, but he now noticed little things that made him understand why Rip had said she was uncomfortable in it. She kept discreetly tugging on the hem, and under the table she would slip her foot from one of the high-heeled shoes and rub it against her slender ankle, then slide it back again. Clearly, she was itching to be out of them.

Damn, but they were so sexy. He wanted to think she loved wearing them, and that she loved the attention of every man's gaze on the sway of her shapely ass as she walked in them.

He wished Steele hadn't vetoed kidnapping the woman. Kidnapping her didn't mean bedding her, but who knows? Maybe she'd be turned on by being surrounded by a gang of bikers and she'd decide she wanted to put out.

Raven sure hadn't been the type he'd have figured to get involved with the whole gang of them, but she'd surprised them all. And she was one hot fuck. Who knew with this woman?

* * *

"No, thanks," Laurie said as Donovan tipped the champagne bottle to her glass to refill it, but he ignored her.

He filled it to the top, then added to Joan's and Henry's glasses, but only filling them a quarter before pouring the last bit into his own.

He lifted his glass. "To my beautiful woman." The others raised their glasses and clinked and she reluctantly joined them. She didn't want any more champagne. It went straight to her head and she wanted to keep her wits about her. But as she sipped, Donovan subtly nudged her arm to deepen the sip.

He glanced at his watch. "Aren't you two going to be late for your play?"

"We've got plenty of time," Henry answered.

"But, honey," Joan said with a smile, "I'm sure these two lovebirds would like to be alone." She tipped back her glass and swallowed the rest of her wine.

"All right. I get it." Henry finished his and stood up, then pulled back Joan's stool. "You two have a great evening." He winked, then followed Joan to the door.

"Drink up," Donovan said.

She stared at her glass, still three quarters full. "I really don't want anymore."

"I said, drink it." His tone brooked no argument and, hating herself for it, she obeyed and lifted her glass.

She took a sip, then as his dark gaze bored through her, she tipped back the rest of the glass. Damn, why didn't she just say no and walk away? But there was something about him and his intimidating way. He hadn't started out this way. He used to be kind, generous, and thoughtful. But the more she got to know him, the more his dark side came out. And as much as she hated it, when he used his controlling, authoritative tone, she fell into line. She barely even knew herself when she became like this. Letting a man control her.

She had to stop this. Anniversary or not, she had to put an end to this unhealthy relationship.

She drew in a deep breath, steeling her courage. "Donovan, I was going to wait until after our anniversary to do this but..."

She hesitated at the stormy look in his eyes, but then pushed herself to continue.

"This relationship isn't working for me. I'm just not the kind of woman you're looking for-"

"Shut up." The hard words came out in a low tone that no one nearby would hear, but they rocked through her.

He pulled out his phone and texted something, then grabbed a roll of bills from his pocket and dropped two hundreds on the table. He grasped her upper arm and squeezed painfully, then stood up and guided her through the restaurant to the door.

She was having trouble keeping up with him in the ridiculously high heels and stumbled. Donovan jerked her back to her feet.

A nearby waiter paused. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"She's fine," Donovan answered for her. "She'd just had a little too much to drink."

Her cheeks flushed, not wanting people to think she was drunk, but her red cheeks only added credence to his words.

The waiter nodded. "Well, good evening, sir. Ma'am." Then he continued on his way.

When they stepped out the door, Donovan tugged her along with him down the sidewalk and through a glass door to the parking garage next to the bar. He jabbed the button for the elevator. Another couple was approaching so she didn't bring up their conversation again.

"We're not taking the limo?" she asked. Donovan had been drinking and the idea of getting into a car with him made her nervous.

"No, I brought the 'vette."

She wanted to protest, but she knew it would do no good. In fact, the more she protested, the more likely he was to drive recklessly, just to scare her.

The other couple followed them into the elevator and they rode it down to P2. Donovan slid his arm around her waist and when the doors opened, he guided her forward. The door closed on the other couple behind them.

"Donovan, I know you're upset, but we need to talk about this."

But he walked faster through the cavernous parking garage, her shoes clacking against the concrete floor. He held her elbow now and she raced to keep up with him, her feet aching in the high-heeled shoes, barely stopping herself from toppling over.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they kept on walking. Where there had been lots of cars parked near the elevator, as they continued, the empty parking spaces were more plentiful, until finally there were almost no cars around at all.

A quiver ran down her spine at how isolated she felt. Relieved, she saw his sleek, black, vintage Corvette parked ahead. Once in the car, she could talk. Even though she didn't want to be in the car while he was driving, at least he would have to listen. He might not like that she was breaking free of his control by breaking up with him, but what could he really do about it? He couldn't force her up to his apartment, and there's no way she was going with him of her own free will.

She breathed a sigh of relief as they approached the car, but that relief was short-lived as he turned suddenly and thrust her against a big, concrete post, knocking the wind from her. Her clutch purse fell from her hands and she instinctively went to pick it up, but he shoved her back again and slapped her hard across the face. She stared up at him, dazed, her cheek stinging.

"What the fuck are you thinking?" His dark eyes glinted in anger as he glared at her. "You don't end it with me. If and when we end this relationship, it will be because I decide to end it. When I'm tired of you." His face jerked close to hers. "Do you understand?"

At his harsh, uncompromising tone, she found herself nodding. Her stomach twisted.

Oh, God, what am I doing? I can't let him get away with treating me like this.

But fear kept her from arguing with him. She was alone and isolated and she really didn't know what he would do if she didn't do as she was told.

He pulled her into an aggressive kiss, his tongue driving deep into her mouth. Her jaw ached as he forced it wide with his thrusts, then she felt his hand glide up her thigh. She pressed her hand against his chest to push him away. His fingers slid under her dress and stroked the crotch of her panties. Panic vaulted through her and she pushed against him.

Somehow she got her mouth free. "No." But no matter how hard she pushed, she couldn't budge him. He was bigger and stronger than she was and she felt totally helpless. She wanted to scream, but he thrust his body tighter against hers, crushing her to the concrete pillar, then he grabbed her face and took her lips again. As his tongue drove inside her again, his fingers pulled at the elastic of her panties.

She shivered, knowing he was going to take her right here in the garage.

"I think the lady would like you to leave her alone."

Donovan pulled his mouth away and glared at her, shriveling the budding idea she had to call to the other man for help. Without turning around, his gaze still locked with hers, he said sharply, "Get lost. This is none of your business."

* * *

"I'm making it my business."

It was all Wild Card could do not to grab the guy and pull him off her. As soon as he'd seen the guy practically drag the woman from the bar, he'd known there was trouble brewing. He'd followed them from the bar, then taken the stairs to catch up to them. As he'd been crossing the garage, he'd seen the guy slap her across the face. Now he had the obviously frightened woman pinned against a pillar and he was mauling her. Wild Card's heart pounded as protective instincts surged through him.

The guy finally turned. At six foot two, Wild Card knew he made an intimidating sight, especially with his leather jacket and studded riding gloves.

The other man straightened, sizing up his opponent. "You don't get it. She loves this. Pretending to be taken in an alleyway or a parking garage, that gets her off. Especially if she can fight it." He turned to her. "Right, sweetheart?"

She said nothing, and he laughed and stroked her cheek. "And she loves to play timid."

Wild Card's hands clenched as the man turned back to face him.

"I don't believe you," Wild Card said.

The guy's eyes narrowed as he stared at Wild Card, then he shrugged and smiled.

"Tell you what. I'll give you a thousand dollars to fuck her. Right here, right now." He grinned. "And I remember seeing you in the bar with a bunch of friends. Why don't you call them in, too, and you can all have a go? A real gangbang." He had a nasty glitter in his eyes. "I know she would love that."

"Really?" Wild Card raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, looking interested. "And what would you be doing?" he asked.

He turned back to the woman and his gaze glided down her body. "I'd just watch."

Wild Card finally allowed the anger and contempt he felt to show on his face.

"Then why the fuck do we need you?"

He drew back his fist and slugged the sleazy face of the asshole, knocking him back against his shiny, sleek car, then he grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him back to his feet, and slugged him again. This time he left him in a heap on the ground.

He grabbed the woman's hand. "Come on."

He drew her along, but she couldn't go fast in those heels, so he scooped her over his shoulder and carried her.

"No, please, just let me go."

"And when Asshole here wakes up, what do you think he'll do to you?"

Luckily, his bike wasn't parked too far away. He plopped her on the seat. It was better to have his passenger behind him, but he didn't want her jumping off at a light, so he had her in front. She was frightened and panicky and might do something stupid.

"Here, put this on." He handed her his spare helmet.

"No, I-"

"Don't argue." He pushed it onto her head and buckled it, then pulled on his own helmet and started up the bike.

He took off down the street. Fuck, he had no idea what he was going to do with this woman, but he knew that taking her to her home was the worst thing to do. Once that guy woke up, he'd probably go straight to find her and take out his anger on her.

There was only one thing he could do. He turned onto the highway and headed into the night.

* * *

Laurie shivered as the bike sped along the highway.

First, Donovan had nearly raped her in the parking garage, then-God, she still couldn't believe it-had offered her to a bunch of bikers to be gang raped. The biker had knocked Donavon out, and kidnapped her. Now he was probably taking her back to where his gang was, to ...

She choked back a sob, not wanting to think about what they'd do to her.

And, idiot that she was, she almost felt protected within the confines of his strong arms. He'd seemed to show concern about what Donovan would do to her once he woke up, but she knew she was just looking for a knight in shining armor-or leather, in this case-to save the day. But she had to rely on herself. Allowing a man any kind of control over her, even to save her, was a big mistake. It was a lesson she'd learned from Donovan that she would never forget.

They pulled off the highway and rode along a long curved road. They'd been traveling for about a half hour. She shivered uncontrollably now, as much from the cold as from fear. The man must have felt her trembling because he tightened his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter to his solid, muscular chest. She didn't fight. Just rested back against him, saving her energy for what would come.

Twenty minutes later, he turned onto a smaller road and wound through the trees until they reached an unpaved road. He drove along the gravel surface until they finally pulled up to a clearing where a large log house stood. He stopped the bike in front of the house.

He unfastened his helmet and pulled it off. As he dismounted the bike, she began to shiver again, then realized she'd stopped trembling for a while when his arm had been wrapped around her. The warmth of his body had helped. He reached for the strap under her chin and unfastened it, then tugged the helmet from her head.

He lifted her from the bike like she weighed nothing and set her on her feet. He was big, tattooed, and dangerous-looking, with hazel eyes and dark blond hair spiked on top and short on the sides.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her hands clenched into fists, feeling empty without her small clutch purse, which must still be lying on the ground in the parking garage. With her cell phone inside.

"Come on." He took her hand and led her toward the house. They stepped from the dirt surface, where the bike was parked, to grass. It was difficult walking because the tiny tips of her stiletto heels kept digging into the soil. She stumbled and the man grasped her elbow, keeping her steady. Unlike Donovan, he moved at a slow enough pace so that she could keep her balance and keep up with him.

He opened the front door and led her inside. It was dark and she couldn't see much of the place. Just shadowy shapes of furniture illuminated by moonlight coming in the windows.

"Please, just let me go," she pleaded.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise you that."

He led her forward, then turned on a light over a stairway.

She shook her head. "How can I? You just kidnapped me."

"I saved you from a douche bag."

He guided her up the stairs, his big hand pressed to the small of her back, and then they walked down the hallway past several doors. He stopped at the door at the end of the hallway, then he opened it.

He flicked on the light and her eyes widened as she saw a big bed in the center of the room.

"No, please." She tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed her arm.

"I told you, I'm not going to hurt you." His mouth compressed into a flat line. "But you're not going to believe that." He scowled. "Okay, come with me."

Hope sprang through her that maybe he was going to let her go, but then he opened another door and her heart sank as she saw it was another bedroom. He went to the bedside table, with her still in tow, and opened the drawer, then drew something out.

Handcuffs.

She began to struggle as he tugged her back to the other room again, and his strong hand tightened around her wrist. Then cold steel flashed across her skin as he fastened a cuff around her wrist. He dragged her toward the bed.

"No," she wailed, shaking her head wildly. Tears prickled at her eyes.

The last time she'd had sex with Donovan, he'd convinced her to let him handcuff her, then he'd wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed until she'd almost fainted. She was sure what she would experience with this big, rough biker would be far worse than anything Donovan had done to her.

"Look, I just need you to stay here," he said. "We're a long way out, and if you bolt, especially in the middle of the night, you could get hurt."

He fastened the other cuff around one of the posts of the headboard, then he pulled back the big comforter on the bed. "Get in."

She bit her lower lip, but lay down on the bed. He reached for her ankle and she stiffened, but he just pulled off first one shoe, then the other one, and dropped them on the floor, then he covered her with the comforter.

"Just get some sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning when you've had time to calm down."

He stepped back and she just stared at him, sucking in big breaths. He walked to the door and opened it, then paused and turned back to her.

"I'm sorry about this."

Then he turned out the light and closed the door behind him.



Copyright © 2015 by Opal Carew