“Come on, Red, run!” I grab the backpack as Bane pulls me to my feet, pushing me ahead of him onto the ramp while he pauses to scoop up Jenny. He follows me, the wood wobbling beneath our feet as we sprint into the boat.
Once on board, Bane pushes the ramp off the boat until it clatters off the side of the dock and splashes down. It tumbles into the water, bubbling slowly under the black surface just like Bane’s Harley. The handlebars are just disappearing under the brackish foam.
“Bane, your bike!” I realize.
“Too late,” he mutters, screwing his head around to glare at the front of the boat. “Drive! Drive!”
“You got it!” shouts the boatman.
The boatman, who I’d forgotten about, throttles the engine and deftly guides the boat away from the Pier. I look back over my shoulder at the retreating sight of Chelsea Piers, Bane’s motorcycle submerging into the Hudson, Jack Keller writhing in pain on the dock.
“Holy shit,” I pant. “That was close. Your bike, Bane, I am so sorry. You lost your Pearl.”
Bane slumps against the hull, sighing. Jenny licks his face and he laughs. “Yeah, shit happens,” he chuckles. “I can always get a new bike.” He reaches to scratch Jenny’s ears, his eyes piercing into mine. “But where would I find another Rachel Kent?”
Heart hammering, I let myself sink down to sit beside him, fitting my side under his arm. My heart swells, the crazy emotions and adrenaline of the last few days breaking over me in an overwhelming sure. Bane strokes my cheek.
“What do you say we change things up when we get to Canada? Get us back on the right side of the law?”
My smile is probably glowing in the dark. “Yes.”
“That’s my brave girl.” His lips close over mine, full of promise, as the black Atlantic waters cover our tracks away from Manhattan Island.
Epilogue
The otherworldly blue of the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Nova Scotia is hard to look at directly, too bright, and mind-numbingly teal. The buff sandbar of the quiet beach stretches for what looks like miles below our perch in the hotel nestled on the emerald green cliffs, giving us a birds-eye view of Prospect Bay. Purple and pink heather and yellow-blooming shrubs litter the sloping hills and gulls are singing above, the sound and smell of the sea washing in through our open balcony door. I can see it all without leaving my bed.
Jenny is curled up in a content napping ball on the balcony, her pink canine nose buried in her legs in almost the same shape as I am in before I push myself up to sit and stare out the open glass doors.
It’s a breathtakingly beautiful, serene view. But more than the beauty, what stands out to me is that everything looks clean. After being a prisoner of Death Layer Motorcycle Club and a fugitive traveling for seemed like days at sea, everything in Nova Scotia looks clean, brand-new, as if the sea has polished it until it’s a newly invented color.
Between the pristine views and the lack of pain and suffering, I half-think I must be hallucinating. This can’t be real. Sighing, I wrap my arms around my knees, hugging them into myself, and lean my cheek on my knee. My own skin is warm against itself and smells like the hotel soap. This is definitely real. Wow. I could stare and stare at this view.
I feel Bane’s hand on the small of my back and feel a reactionary burst of pleasure bloom between my legs. All it takes is one touch, one look, and I’m wet and hot for him. I twist around, freeing the sheets until I can lay my bare breasts against his back. Inhaling the thick, manly scent of him, my body hums with excitement.
“Good morning, Mr. Davies,” I murmur, nibbling his ear.
“Good morning, Ms. Kent,” he rumbles back sleepily.
“What do you want to do today?” I whisper. I flick my tongue into his ear, causing a sharp intake of breath.
“Mmmm,” he murmurs, “Let’s start with this.”
His arm snares me, pulling me under his body as his mouth claims mine, his tongue dipping under mine heavily. He tastes like steel and pine, clean and rugged and wild—like a man.
“Oh, Bane…”
His hands move instinctively to cover my breasts and squeeze, the roughness and size of his hands thrilling. I can feel the amazing hardness of his cock, morning wood as he calls it. With sensual smoothness he expertly parts my thighs with his knee and finds his way between my legs. His kisses burn along the soft vulnerability of my throat. I’m already soaking wet for him.
Without warning, he thrusts the entire length of his cock inside as he bites playfully down on my lip.
“Holy fuck,” I moan.
“Good morning,” he groans.
His hips are thrusting slowly against me, and I can feel every sensation and movement of his dick as he sheathes himself to the hilt and slowly withdraws, only to rock into me again. It’s delicious, decadent, and devastating.
My surprised body shivers, aching for more, and my fingers dig pleadingly into his shoulders as I curl up against him, moaning in pleasure. The friction and heat between us is intense, and I get wetter and wetter with each of his thrusts.
He pulls me up until I am sitting in his lap, his cock deep inside me, my legs wrapped around him like a pretzel. The angle is intense for both of us and we’re gasping and humping and clinging together. I can feel his powerful thighs contracting beneath my hips, bouncing me on him. Each time he moves his cock pushes deeper inside.
His strong arms are wrapped around my back and I move into them, arching. Greedily, his mouth swoops down to suck and tease one nipple, grazing until it firms into a sensitive and hard peak.
“I love having you in my mouth,” he groans.
I’m so sensitive, each touch of his lips and tongue on my nipples makes me tingle and burn all the way to my clit. Hungry, he reaches down and strokes me there at that most sensitive spot until I’m driven over the edge of sanity. Bane’s banging my g-spot and sucking my breasts, his thumb wreaking havoc on my clit.
“Oh my god,” I moan. “Yes…Oh God, baby, yes…”
I cum, a tidal wave of shivering heat that rips through my body from toes to scalp and I swear to god my hair stands on end. For a second I can’t breathe, I can’t move.
“Oh, Jesus!” Bane groans.
I know he likes to watch me cum, so I open my eyes to meet his gaze at the peak of my orgasm, showing him everything I feel.
Straining his hips into me, he shakes his head in wonder as his face twists in release. We cling onto each other, shivering, and our lips lock in a deep and wet kiss. His grasp on my back loosens until his fingertips are light, stroking my skin reverently. I bury my face in his shoulders, spreading my fingers over the firm ridges of his chest. It feels like home here, with his cock still inside me and his scent washing over and his touch and his possession.