Cuffed (The Untouchables MC 1)

I was in a foul mood and wasn’t being shy about it. Being up all night with a raging boner would do that to a guy. A raging boner with no relief in sight.

My woman had left me.

I was about to throw the phone across the parking lot when the text popped up. I exhaled sharply, staring down at my phone.

I need some time to think.

Think about what? You agreed to marry me. You belong at home with me dammit!

A few minutes passed as I paced back and forth. I knew she wasn’t a slow typist so I started to get mad. Worried.

Fucking scared.

You don’t know me. You look down on people like me.

What? No I fucking don’t Casey. I know you!

You don’t even know my name.

I stared at my phone, my breath coming fast. What the fuck was happening? Was this because of what I’d said about Cain- or Mason?

I don’t care who you hang out with. I care about you. You’re mine dammit!

No answer.

I roared and stormed to my car. I’d done some paperwork already, going through the motions of the job. Dante’s murder had created a fuckton of red tape. I didn’t care. The rest of it was going to have to wait.

I was going to get my woman.

Cassandra

I set the phone down, determined to ignore it. The house needed a good scrubbing, and I needed to do my laundry.

And Mase thought it was safe for me to go back to work, if I wanted. He had a few new girls coming in to train anyway. We’d been planning to cut back my hours for a while, since I was applying to school.

Or I had been, before Dante murdered someone in front of me.

I guess, now that he was gone, college was back on the table… too bad I had no idea what to do about the rest of my life.

I tied my hair back in a bandana and got to work. The animals jostled me for attention as I turned up the music and started sweeping. I mopped after and finally got on my hands and knees to get any stubborn spots.

Cleaning was a blissfully mindless experience. And doing it made me feel like I was contributing. In foster care, I’d always resented the chores they heaped on us. But here, I relished it.

I was scrubbing the floor when I realized someone was standing directly behind me. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest.

My first thought was that it was not Mason. Mason wore enormous biker boots. Even with the music blasting I would have heard him.

Hell, the house shook a little when Mason walked in.

I would have felt him.

I gasped as I was lifted to my feet. Arms came around me and I relaxed. I knew who was holding me. Connor. It was Connor.

I heaved a sigh of relief as kisses rained down on my neck. He rubbed his rough cheek against me as his hands slid up and down my body, then up again to cup my breasts. He squeezed and fondled them and I felt a hot answering pulse in my belly.

“Connor!”

I turned in his arms and stopped short at the look in his stunning eyes. Conn was in bad shape. He looked like someone else. Someone who was in pain.

“Are you okay?”

The music was still blasting but I heard him. His voice was ragged and raw as he answered me. He held onto me for dear life.

“You left me.”

I blinked.

“I didn’t leave. I just needed some time to think.”

“You left me.” He exhaled and rested his forehead against mine. “Never do that again.”

He lifted me up and carried me down the hall. He seemed to know which room was mine as he shoved the door open and lowered me to the bed.

“Conn-”

He started pulling his clothes off, shaking his head at me.

“Talk later.”

I stared hungrily at his beautiful body as he stripped. He tried to take his pants off without removing his shoes. I giggled at the look on his face when he realized what he’d done.

He growled and kicked his shoes off. Then he pounced on me. The tiny bed shook as he covered me with his big naked body.

I’d been right. He was a panther.

He moaned in desperation as his fingers dragged down the front of my body.

“Open.”

“We should talk-“

“After. Open your thighs.”

I swallowed nervously and stared at him. He looked wild. He did not look capable of talking. I leaned back and let my legs slide open.

He growled at me.

“Wider.”

I did as he asked then let out a yelp as he tore the crotch of my shorts wide open. They were old cut off jeans. The soft fabric tore easily under his strong hands. He dove down, his lips colliding with my panties.

A fresh pair. Not the blue ones that had been soaked when I went to bed last night. These were faded pink.