Riot (Predators MC 1)

When Ice stepped forward, making his presence known, Church’s eyes widened at the silent challenge, backing over to a group of men and keeping her within their reach in case the tactical team stormed the room. Every one of them planned to use her as their shield and gain part of the reward. Right now, Ice wished he could have Dax Andrews for five minutes. His reward placed his sister in even more danger.

Ice was forced to listen to the replays of Grace’s family on the television all day. He could tell it was beginning to get to Grace, too.

“Come on.” When he held his hand out to her, she took it and rose to her feet. He dropped it as soon as she stood.

He took her to the commissary, letting her stretch her legs. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

Inside the small store, which had already been plundered until it was almost empty, he handed her two different cups of microwavable soup.

“Which one?”

“The vegetable. I hate tomato.”

Ice opened them both and heated them in the microwave.

“What are you going to do, Ice? This isn’t going to last another day the way they’re eating it.”

“I know. I tried to tell them to ration it out, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“So, you’re not in charge?”

“No, just of my brothers.”

“Max, Jackal, Fade, and the others I see you talking to are your brothers?”

“Not family brothers,” he explained. “We belong to a motorcycle club. We’re closer than blood brothers.”

From her expression, he could tell he had gone even further down in her estimation. He wondered exactly what crimes she imagined he had committed. Her mind couldn’t comprehend some of the shit he was responsible for. He had been on the outs from the law since he was twelve and ran away from home. Over the years, he had never let the fucked-up legal system that dragged him back home to his old man decide what he should or should not do. When he was fifteen, he left home again. This time, he didn’t have to run; his old man had been too scared to stop him.

Ice handed the heated soup to Grace, noticing how she delicately sipped the hot liquid. He took a quick drink of his own soup to regain control of his dick which was about to become noticeable if he didn’t change the track his mind was taking.

“It’s not bad. I didn’t know prisoners had their own store. How do you pay for the things you want? Do they let you have money from your checking accounts to use?”

Ice almost laughed at her naiveté. “No, a family member puts money in an account, which you can spend.”

“Who put money in yours?” She turned bright red as soon as the question left her mouth.

“A brother of mine’s wife.”

She nodded. He could tell Grace wanted to ask more questions but didn’t. He liked it when a woman didn’t pry. He really didn’t want to explain the women back at the clubhouse. He knew one thing for sure: a woman like her wouldn’t understand the lifestyle of a biker and his bitches.

“Do you want anything else?”

“Could I get a soda?”

Ice reached past her shoulder, sliding open the door to the machine and pulling out one of the few remaining sodas.

“Here you go.” He handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Ice hated himself for what he was about to do yet couldn’t resist the impulse to touch her. He had wanted his hands on her since the first time he had seen her walk inside that classroom. As his hand circled her neck and brought her closer to his chest, she dropped the soda. He was grateful she hadn’t opened it yet; it would probably be the last one she would have for a while.

He brought his mouth down on her startled lips. When she tried to take a step back, his arm circled her waist, pulling her closer, despite her attempts to try to get away. His tongue parted her tense lips, thrusting inside her warm mouth, and he released a groan of satisfaction at the taste of her. Wanting more but aware she wasn’t responding, he took his mouth away.

“Don’t do that.” Her breath gave a little hitch, which nearly had him taking her mouth again.

“Baby, I don’t take orders. When I want something from you, I’ll take it.”

Her eyes widened in fear.

“Not that. I’d never hurt you or take you against your will.”

“But you just said—”

“You wanted me to kiss you as much as I wanted to kiss you.”

“I did not.”

“Don’t lie. I know what a woman looks like when she’s curious how I’ll kiss her. Now you know.”

“Yes, I do, enough that I don’t want to kiss you again.”

“You want me to do a lot more than kiss you, but that’ll have to wait until we get out of here.”