The Lost: Book Two of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 31

The sound of fists hammering against metal clanged loudly around the yard.

Rounding the rear of the lorry, I leaned against the side watching Harper as he laid his forehead against the cool aluminum, his face twisted in pure rage. With a cry of anger, he hit the truck again and whirled round slamming his back against it, his eyes tightly screwed shut.

"If you keep doing that, you'll end up with broken fingers," I commented, raising an eyebrow. "And surely hitting Garrick in the face would be more satisfactory than hitting a truck? A truck can't beg you to stop after all?"

"And get a gun pressed against my temple? I don't think so." Harper shook his head and turned round, raising a fist to strike out again but I was already at his side, catching his wrist in my grasp.

It was never a good idea to get within close proximity when he was this angry, to see that fury all pent up and desperate to be released. I'd seen it often enough. Hell, I'd even experienced it first hand and worn the bruises as proof. But things were different now. I was different. And I wasn't about to let him bloody his knuckles for no reason.

He glared at me. "What do you want, Megan?"

I raised his reddened hand to my lips and kissed the skin there, coveting the hard handsome lines of his face. "You," I said. "Just you."

His eyes widened as I snaked a hand around his neck and pulled his head down, crushing my mouth against his. For a few agonising seconds, he didn't respond, it was just me left adrift as I poured out all my want against him and then finally, thankfully, his lips parted and his tongue found mine, and I knew immediately that he was just as hungry as I was. My kiss was returned hard, pressed forcefully against my lips and I could feel his anger and frustration like a searing burn upon my skin.

Pulling away from him, I grabbed at the handle of the lorry's cab and wrenched open the door, using the step to haul myself up. Turning, I looked back at Harper, running my eyes over his questioning gaze, the rage still clearly visible as it spotted his cheeks scarlet. 

"Well? Are you getting in or are you going to stand out there all night with your bad mood and your hard-on?"

"In there?" He gestured to the darkened cab. "You're serious?"

"Deadly." I smiled and ran a tongue over one elongated incisor. "You owe me, Cain. You didn't really think that I wouldn't call in that debt, did you?"

I didn't wait for him to answer, instead I disappeared into the lorry, stepping deftly over the gearbox and dropping into the back of the cab where a long cushioned leather seat stretched from one side to the other. When I heard the door slam behind and a dark shadow fell over me, cast by the moon as it shone through the windscreen, I smiled again only this time to myself, enjoying the little kick of pleasure his compliance gave me.

Slumping onto the seat, my arm stretched along the top of the upholstered leather, I watched in silent anticipation as Harper climbed into the back, his tall six foot frame towering over me. He hesitated, his face uncharacteristically wary. Something about this was unsettling him, the uneasy tension in his eyes clearly at odds with the firmness that strained against his jeans.

Leaning forward, I hooked my fingers over his waistband and tugged him towards me, deftly working the buttons of his fly and eliciting a small exhale of breath when I saw just how hard he was. Lifting the hem of his shirt, I pressed my mouth to the taut, honed muscle of his stomach, leaving a trail of kisses downwards to the soft dark hair that curled under his navel. Pulling back, I ran my fingertips very slowly over the same path my lips had followed, stopping briefly to linger over that dragon tattoo that curled menacingly around his hip bone. With a smile, I rubbed a thumb lightly over his erection, hearing him groan and thrust his hips forward, wanting more than the maddening, teasing strokes of my fingers as I merely grazed the fabric of his underwear. When I increased the pressure, he swayed a little and had to steady himself by pushing his hands against the roof of the cab and I glanced up to see that the anxiety still hadn't dissipated from his eyes. In fact, if anything he looked nervous, the frustration clearly playing out on his features.