Hell Bent

He stood then and swiped the keys off of the coffee table, re-pocketing them. Then, without warning, he took one long stride toward Annabelle, closing the distance between them. She didn’t have the time or the will power to move back away from him. He grabbed her wrist in his black gloved hand and tugged her toward the door.

“I take it you’re exploring the dean’s office alone, then?” Sam called as Jack opened the door and stepped through.

“Indeed,” was all Jack said as he pulled Annabelle out into the hall and closed the door behind them.

“Jack, where are we going?” she asked as he continued to lead her down several flights of stairs. Her heart was racing.

“Sam’s flat is too bloody small for the seven of us,” Jack answered, not slowing and not easing his grip on her arm.

She could agree to that much. She’d been wondering where she was going to sleep. She could have shared Sam’s bed with Cassie, she supposed, but there was only one couch and she knew that Jack and Sam weren’t going to share that.

“Okay…” she stammered.

“So, we’re going elsewhere.” Jack told her, matter-of-factly. His tone had deepened, his voice lower, nearly a growl.

Wow, someone gets crabby when he’s sleepy, she thought as they made it to the ground floor and he punched through the double doors that led out into the adjoining alley. Annabelle stumbled after him, a little off balance because of his hold on her wrist.

But when they were past the doors, Jack stopped and Annabelle came to an unsteady halt beside him.

The hum of a street lamp reverberated off of the walls of the alley around them. Its distant light sent long shadows stretching across the ground and climbing up the bricks. The heights of the buildings around them stopped most of what wind there was from entering the alley, but an occasional breeze rustled the garbage on the ground. A Lay’s chip bag went skirting past their feet.

Annabelle barely noticed it. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness and they’d found something much more interesting to focus on.

“We going for a ride, Jack?” The question, again, was rhetorical. She guessed she was just in that kind of mood.

Jack had stopped in the alley so that she could gain her bearings, but once he knew she’d figured things out, he continued to pull her toward the shining black bike that awaited them.

Its chrome looked like starlight in the beams from the distant lamp. Its spotless black paint looked like night. Like shadow.

Jack mounted the Harley Fat Boy as if his body were made to mount a bike. Long, lean, hard legs straddled the bike with a kind of practiced, confident ease that lit Annabelle’s blood on fire.

She waited for him to straighten it and start it up. When he did, the resounding roar was like a salve on her tired, raw nerves, almost instantly beginning to chase away her weariness. It was her favorite sound in the world. Closely followed by the sound of Jack’s voice, and then by the sound of thunder. In fact, it was a lot like thunder. And she loved a good storm.

She just stood there for a moment, letting the sound seep into her body and massage her soul, even going so far as to close her eyes. When she opened them again at last, it was to find Jack gazing steadily at her. There was a secret smile on his lips, but something dark was dancing in his eyes.

Without a word, he offered her his gloved hand. She looked at it for a moment, wondering if it was the hand of the devil. Then, not really caring, she took it and mounted up behind him.

Chapter Nineteen

Annabelle held tightly to Jack’s waist, out and out relishing the opportunity to hold herself close to him while having a very legitimate excuse for doing so. After all, a woman needed real justification for being this close to a married man. She had it right now and she was going to use it unabashedly.

Jack sped around a corner, carving the road as he did so, and she hugged closer to him, closing her eyes. The wind whipped through her hair, tangling it into helpless knots and she didn’t even care. She loved the way the air hit her so hard that it bit her skin; she loved the blur of the pavement beneath them. She loved the speed, the roar of the V-twin, the barely concealed sexual energy of riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle. It was only slightly less powerful when you were on the back of the bike rather than in the saddle. And when you were seated behind someone like Jack, well…

She grinned to herself, delighting in the fact that he couldn’t see her face and so had no way of determining the brazenly sexual thoughts racing through her head. As Jack took her through the New York streets and alleys as if he’d lived there his whole life instead of Yorkshire, Annabelle’s fatigue began to wear off. It dropped away with every curve they hugged and was blown away with the wind they made.

They rode for more than an hour before Annabelle was once more wide awake and aware enough to realize that an hour was a little long for them to be going full blast in a city the size of New York and not reach their destination. Her brow furrowed and she leaned forward, placing her lips beside Jack’s ear.

“What’s going on?” she said, loud enough for him to hear her over the roar of the engine.

Jack’s grip tightened at the feel of Annabelle’s breath against his skin and it took a good amount of control to keep from speeding the bike up in reaction. He turned slightly to look over his shoulder. “Just want to be sure you’re awake, luv.” His voice matched hers in volume. The two had plenty of experience communicating over the bellow of motorcycle engines.

“What for?” She should have known better than to honestly expect that they’d go somewhere quiet and get some sleep. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Jack asleep in the entire ten years she’d known him. Come to think of it, there was a lot having to do with Jack Thane that she’d never seen. Like his naked body. Not once. What was up with that? He’d seen hers!

“We’ve got a building to break into,” he said, bringing her mind once more out of the gutter. She blinked and shook her head once.

“So this whole ride was just to wake me up so we could do this evil deed tonight?” Riding a Hog was one thing. Breaking and entering was a whole different kind of criminal.

“The less time we waste, the better.”

She was silent for a few moments, allowing him to turn his full attention back to the road as they entered an area with other traffic and a few late-night pedestrians. She chewed on her lower lip and then laid her head against his upper back. When she did, she felt a soreness in her gums on that side, just beneath her cheek bone. She ran her tongue over the teeth there to find that one of them jiggled a little.

Oh no, she thought. That bastard knocked a tooth loose.

Dread swept through her at the thought of visiting a dentist. All white coats and needles and the smell of lidocaine and the sound of drills. Not her favorite places in the world. She avoided them at all costs.

The Harley carved around another corner and she found herself thinking, maybe it will get better. A straight away and another corner and she thought, Maybe, if it doesn’t, the dentist won’t be so bad.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t like the idea of pulling a cat burglar routine at Columbia University, but she also knew good and well that it was necessary. Necessarily done by her, on the other hand, not so much. She’d sort of pictured Jack and Sam going through the place on their own, leaving her and the others out of the thick of it. Why was Jack bringing her along instead?

She opened her eyes and, in a few moments, recognized the fact that they were on a campus. No matter what famous architect worked on a school, a University’s buildings all took on that learned-in look. The manicured lawns and bountiful trees and shining street lamps were a dead give-away, as well as the paved walk-ways, bike paths and designated parking signs.

“This isn’t exactly covert, Jack!” Annabelle hollered at him. The sound of a Harley never failed to get plenty of attention.

“Noted!” He hollered back.

Annabelle mentally shrugged and figured he had a plan.

When he pulled into the Fort Washington Garage, two blocks away from the Black building, where the dean’s