Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 3

by MariaLisa deMora

  Without conscious thought, she found her hands resting on either side of his waist, fingers digging and twisting into his tee. Her breath was coming in heaving gasps when he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. She had only a moment to think, What an amazing kiss, before he kissed her again, this time his tongue licking along the seam of her lips, probing and teasing. He murmured against her, “Open for me, baby.” When she did, granting him access, he groaned and his tongue swept against hers, possessing her.

  His arms folded around her, lifting and placing her on his lap, his mouth never leaving hers. The kiss continued on, seeming endless, breaking apart only for a moment so they could gasp at the air, breathing fast, and then crashing back together in a hard, passionate connection. His hand pressed between her legs, fingers rubbing against the seam of her jeans firmly, stroking in time with his tongue delving into her mouth. Licking across the inside of his teeth, she was caught up in the feeling of being owned by this beautiful man, this strong but gentle man, and moved instinctively, pressing her hips forward, pushing against his hand.

  Making a noise of denial when his fingers left her, she shivered when she felt them at the waistband of her jeans, working the button and zipper, grazing touches from his calloused fingertips brushing across the skin of her stomach. He deepened the kiss again, distracting her, slanting his mouth across hers hungrily as his hand pushed into the front of her jeans. He slid his rough fingers down and over her clitoris, past that singing bundle of nerves to drive his thick middle finger relentlessly inside her. Her mouth opened wider and he swallowed her moan as he filled her, grinding the heel of his hand against her core while he worked in and out of her.

  One arm wrapped around her back, supporting as he leaned her backwards. His hand slipped underneath her shirt, tugging it upwards, his fingertips trailing across her belly. The kiss and his touch had her arching, making needy noises as she chased an orgasm that was building steadily, the pressure and tension growing to unbelievable levels.

  He broke the kiss and pressed his face into the crook of her neck, lips moving against her skin as he told her, “Come for me, beautiful. I want to watch you break. I want to know how you look when you come. Give it to me. Hotter than a bonfire, and your pussy feels like satin. Baby, I can’t wait to get in there, can’t wait to feel you all around me. You feel so right, Hope.”

  He took in a ragged breath, the heat blistering against her skin as he blew it back out. He moved slightly, and she opened her eyes to find him looking down into her face, the intensity of his expression as arousing as his kiss had been. “Come for me, baby. Let me break you and catch the pieces. I need this, beautiful. Give it to me.”

  His hand paused a second, and then she felt the fullness she had been experiencing become even more. Two fingers now inside her, moving together and apart, stretching and bringing her closer to the edge of the precipice. The pad of his thumb landed on her clitoris, pressing hard as it moved rapidly side-to-side, and with her eyes wide open, gaze fixed to his face, she called his name urgently, coming harder than she ever had in her life.

  His warm whiskey-colored eyes flickered fast, his gaze tracing over her face, down her body to where she knew his arm disappeared into her pants, then back up to her face, that same intensity still present on his features. “Goddamn, you are beautiful, baby. That’s it, sweetheart. Give it all to me. Let me see you.” The muscles of her stomach jerking, she tried to press her legs together to stop his hand from moving, but he shook his head, denying her, even as his fingers pushed deeper. “I want it all, baby. Give it to me.”

  At his growled command, she groaned and gave in, letting her head sink backwards over his arm, closing her eyes and relaxing into the sensations ricocheting through her body. His hand continued to play between her legs, stroking languidly in and out, seeming to know exactly what she wanted, even before she did. Fingers running through her folds, spreading the wetness everywhere, gently plucking at her clit to draw a gasp from her, and then soothing with a slow stroke down and inside, again pushing deep.

  Gradually, she came back down, and she found she had rolled slightly, curving into his body, cuddling against his chest. He moved his hand to the outside of her panties, pressing the material against her, stroking her a final time through the fabric before he pulled his hand out of her pants. She blinked up at him, watching in amazement as he licked and sucked his fingers, apparently relishing the flavor he found there. His gaze never left her face when, with a grin, he asked her, “Want to taste?”

  Embarrassed, she bit her lips, and then gave a small shake of her head. He bent down, still grinning, whispering just before he kissed her, “Liar.” His tongue stroked into her mouth and she tasted herself briefly, the faintest tang of bitter covered immediately by something with a darker flavor. “You taste so fucking good, baby,” he murmured against her lips.

  She felt his hand at her waist and glanced down to see he was tugging her zipper back up, fastening her pants. Surprised, because his erection still pressed firmly against her butt, she looked up at him. The question must have been evident on her face, because his chest rumbled with laughter as he said, “It’s all good, sweetheart. I got what I wanted.”

  With a shake of his head, he leaned down to steal another kiss, the taste of her now much fainter on his lips. “You gave me all of that, baby. I got what I wanted.”

  ***

  Hoss held her close, feeling chilled as the breeze dried the sweat on his skin. God, she was so fucking hot, so beautiful, and had absolutely no idea how gorgeous she looked when she broke apart for him just now. He had assumed, because she had a kid, that she probably knew her way around a man, but the way she came, so hard, so…suddenly there, he was certain it had been a long time since anyone had touched her like this.

  He had seen the insecurity on her face afterward, and now wondered how long it had been for her. This was not a woman who knew the power she held in making herself vulnerable to a man, who knew what it meant when she gave a man what she had given him today. Now, blonde hair glowing in the late afternoon sunshine, she had gone boneless in his arms, muscles loose and relaxed. He suspected if he sat without moving or speaking, she might even go to sleep in his lap. Smiling, he nuzzled the top of her head, arms squeezing tight around her a little.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, softly kissing her temple, laughing silently at her wordless sound of inquiry in response. She was so fucking gorgeous, inside and out, fucking stunning. How could she have been with someone who let her walk away, and with his kid in her belly at the time? “Tell me about Sammy’s daddy.”

  He wanted to know, needed to know what he was up against in her memories. Even if he had an idea the man was an asshole, he had still been in her life, in her bed. She had told him the man didn’t have any rights to the boy now, but there was a history there, a shared past, because she had fucked him, had kept and carried the man’s baby, and he wanted to understand what caused things to fall apart. He wasn’t prepared for her reaction, though, because he felt a distinct flinch at his question, saw her lips press together to still a sudden trembling.

  “Why?” Her voice was shaky and thin, so different from the rich tone she had used when she called his name, coming hard on his fingers. He suddenly realized the only word she had said since walking away from his bike had been his name. Fuck, she holds everything close, he thought, already regretting his question. Might not have been the best time to bring up this topic.

  “Hope, you have to know I like you. And I think I see the same thing coming back at me from you, so with that between us, this is a conversation you had to know was coming, baby.” She needed to learn the safest place for her to ever be was in his arms, and this was a good first lesson.

  “I’m not looking to piss on things, mark my spot. I simply want to know whatever you’re willing to share.” Looking down at her face, he watched as warring emotions rolled across her features. Fear, anger, and what looked like a bone-deep hurt washed over he
r in waves. She made a noise and moved, so he tightened his arms around her. “Hush, baby. Stay with me. It can’t be as bad as all that. Sammy seems to think he’s an okay guy.”

  She barked a harsh laugh. “It’s a lie. Everything he knows is a lie.”

  “How did he get those impressions, then?” He tried to remember exactly what she had said the one other time the man came up. Suiter, his name was Cal Suiter, and he didn’t see Sammy. “Suiter, right? You said Sammy hasn’t seen him for years.”

  “Right. Calhoun, but everybody calls him Cal. The last time Cal saw him, Sammy was two years old. Cal came to my apartment on Christmas Eve and the sitter let him in. I never found out how he even knew where we lived, but she let him in and left. Of course she did; Sammy’s dad was there filled with threats and anger, so she left.” She shook her head.

  “Cal was there about five minutes and bailed, left a note saying he couldn’t take ‘the brat’ crying. He left Sammy alone in the apartment at two years old and walked out. Thank God, the sitter forgot her phone and had to come back, because my blood runs cold at the thought of what could have happened. The little bit Sammy believes he knows about Cal all came from Cal’s mother, but we haven’t seen her in a long time.” She drew in a breath that hitched in the middle, and he gave her another squeeze. “He wasn’t the nicest man.”

  “I’m getting that feelin’, baby. He don’t have any custody claim on your boy, does he?” What kind of man would do that, leaving a child defenseless like that, his own blood? A fucking stupid one, and the man’s lack of intelligence had already been confirmed, because only an idiot asshole wouldn’t want to be involved in Sammy’s life.

  That little kid was fucking amazing, old for his years, and taking on roles most boys wouldn’t find room for in their lives until they hit their teens, if then. Like this morning, when he came out to find Hoss watching the news and drinking coffee, he asked a dozen questions all pointing to protecting his mom from heartache. He wondered if Sammy had a better idea about his daddy than Hope knew.

  “No, he…it’s complicated.” She shrugged and tried again to sit up, but he kept her wrapped up so she couldn’t move. “Hoss, let me up.”

  “Nope, Hope.” He grinned against the side of her head, pressing a kiss there. “Not a chance, baby. Because you are gonna want to use this moment to pull away from me. This is hard shit. A hard conversation to have, but I need you to trust me. You’re safe with me, baby. If I keep you right here and you feel me all around you, that’s when you’re gonna know you’re okay. Me wrapped around you, keepin’ you safe.” He spoke in a matter of fact tone, and she barked another harsh laugh.

  “I’ve not been safe or okay for a very long time,” she blurted, clamping her lips shut after the last word. Her words were telling, because she hadn’t meant to say that to him.

  “So, it’s complicated. What does that mean?” he pushed.

  “My parents…growing up was difficult, because the standards were so…rigid. When I got older, all I could think of was getting out, getting away from them. Cal became that option for me. I moved in with him, and my parents basically disowned me, because I was living in sin.” She reached up, curling one hand around his wrist, unconsciously seeking a connection. “He got frustrated with me a lot, because I didn’t know anything other than how my folks lived. The first couple of times he raised his hand to me, I believed it was because of something I’d done, or hadn’t done. I was so naïve, and he was so polished, older.”

  “But it got worse, didn’t it?” He had seen the cycle before. His littlest sister fell into the same kind of relationship with her bastard boyfriend, and it had taken a hospital stay to straighten her shit out. He suspected Hope’s story was along the same lines, but knew having a baby thrown in had to make things so much more difficult.

  “Yeah,” she breathed, rubbing her cheek against his shirt, eyes closed, seeking solace offered in the darkness behind her eyelids. “A lot worse. Then I found out I was pregnant. So I left. There was no way I would subject a child to that.” The painful sounding laugh came again, and he fucking hated that noise coming out of her mouth, it seemed torn from her by unspeakable pain. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I went home. You can imagine how well my news went over.” He gave her another squeeze. “There, something good came of the confrontation, though, because I found out about Mercy. I can’t imagine my life without her in it now.” She opened her eyes and he saw the glitter of tears before she closed them again, wetness clumping her lashes.

  “She’s your dad’s girl?” He already knew this from talking to Mercy, but giving her something easy to answer would help keep her talking.

  “Yeah,” she said, the corners of her mouth curling into a short-lived smile. “I wish I’d come to find her sooner.”

  “You have her now,” he said, kissing the side of her face, and she drew a deep breath, letting it out in a slow sigh.

  “Yeah.” Her hand squeezed his wrist and then relaxed. “I already told you about Mac. He and his wife were my guardian angels, I swear. If it weren't for them, I would have starved, maybe lost the baby. When Cal found me—”

  “Found you?” he interrupted, and she nodded.

  “Yeah, he found my car one night, dragged me out of it. A security guard saw what was going on and tried to stop him, but they had to use a Taser on him to finally get him...away. There was video footage of the whole thing, so with that and me being nearly eight months pregnant, plus having to stay so long in the hospital, at least I didn’t have to testify in court. He was found guilty of attempted manslaughter, and the judge made a ruling based on the physical evidence and testimony from the guard, and that decision means Cal never gets Sammy. Ever.”

  She dragged in a breath. “The only times he’s seen him were ambush moments, not anything I intended to allow. He showed up at Mom and Dad’s place at Easter that first year, and Dad wouldn’t do anything. I finally called the cops, and they came and made him leave. The other time was the Christmas he found out where I was and showed up, telling the sitter he’d accuse her of kidnapping if she didn’t let him see his boy. That’s the way he always has talked about Sammy, ‘his boy,’ like he’s a possession. This is my car. This is my boy. Same difference to him.”

  “He put you in the hospital?” Hoss found he was carefully regulating his breathing, trying not to let on how pissed off he was. The man put his hands on a pregnant woman, beat her so badly she had to be hospitalized. That shit didn’t stand, and if he ever got the chance, he would educate the motherfucker within an inch of his life.

  “Yeah, wasn’t the first time. Was the worst time, though. I nearly lost Sammy. He was born a little early because of it.” He felt her small shrug and knew she was pushing her emotions down. “I’ll note it was the last time, which is probably the most important takeaway from the experience. For Sammy…things have been hard enough without him learning any of this. When he asks, I tell him his dad’s busy, traveling; I make up lies about why he’s not around. And the few times I let Cal’s mother see him, she filled his head with all the glory and wonder she felt was Calhoun Suiter.” A more natural laugh this time, and he caught her gaze when her eyes opened. “It’s a lie, but I believe the truth would be too much for him. On top of how he’s had to live, it would just be too much.”

  “How’s Sammy handling the move up here?” The boy seemed to be settling in, and Hoss knew from talking to his brothers that Sammy had made fast friends with several Rebel members’ kids. He smiled; she was relaxing again and he knew it was because this topic was as natural as breathing for her.

  “He’s doing amazingly well, given we’ve had so much change over the past few months. My roommate had left, moving out while still owing back rent, so I was in a hole. Then my paycheck bounced, so I was losing our apartment again. It wasn’t the first time we’d lived in the car, but each time I hoped…prayed it would be the last.” She made this statement so calmly he didn’t know how to respond.

  H
e knew people who had lost their shit, but there were always family or friends around to help prop them up until they got their legs underneath them again. He couldn’t think of a single person he knew who was on their own, wholly on their own, like Hope and Sammy seemed to be down in Birmingham.

  “Out of nowhere, I decided to come find Mercy. I didn’t know if she was aware of me, of our connection. I didn’t know if she’d hate me, or my dad, or what she’d be like…or even if she were still in town. I pulled into the lot at Slinky’s with eighty dollars left in my wallet, not much better than the first time I walked into Mac’s diner. Now, when I look back and think about what I did, I realize it was a pretty stupid lack of a plan, but I was so desperate to not be alone in this anymore.”

  Her honesty tore something loose in his chest, and he addressed the sudden pain by leaning down and covering her bowed mouth with his own, fiercely possessing her. “You are never going to be alone again, baby,” he whispered against her swollen lips as the kiss slowed, and he felt her mouth curve in what he hoped was a smile. “Seems as if Sammy likes it up here. School starts soon, yeah? What happens then?”

  “I guess we keep going forward. He gets back on track in school, and I keep working.” She shifted, and he let her sit up this time, balancing her on his thighs as he hugged her close.

  “What does he like to do?” Hoss was still looking for his in with the boy. Even this morning, as testy as he was at finding Hoss in the apartment, he had been guarded and dodged any questions about himself. “I saw his sheets have hockey stuff on them. Does he like the game?”

  “Yeah, he does,” she said softly, and now he knew without a doubt, even without looking, she was smiling. That tone said it all. Her boy was her world. “He loves hockey. I was able to put him in lessons and an inner-city league back home, but since we moved up here, it’s been too hectic. When I couldn’t keep a job at first, no matter what I did, I was afraid all the time we’d be a drag on Mercy, so I didn’t want to pay out any money I didn’t have to.”