Riding Dirty: Nine Devils MC

by Kara Parker

  I looked at Garrison and saw him. Saw exactly who he was without the blinding headlights of my insecurities and fears that had colored his blond hair dark brown and his blue eyes a coffee color. Garrison wasn’t Yannik, nothing like him, and I was finally starting to realize that. I shifted in the seat and swallowed a moan. Hopefully, my body would realize that soon too. I could go down on the man—which was hard enough with his size—but exposing myself to him, giving up that control, still scared the living daylights out of me.

  “What are you thinking about, Sugar?”

  I watched him closely, followed the tip of his tongue as he wet his lips. “You.”

  A strained look flashed across his face, and he reached beneath the table, groaned, and shifted. “With that look on your face… Sure you're not hungry for something besides food?”

  My eyes widened and I ducked my head blushing fifty shades of red. “I’m hungry.”

  Garrison placed a finger beneath my chin and lifted my head up. A gasp slipped out from my lips at the look in his eyes, the blatant promise written in those blue depths. His gaze dropped low, caressed my breasts and tried to burn a hole through the table cloth. “Me too. Starving.”

  The waitress cleared her throat above us, and I moved back so quick my head bumped against the booth wall and caused me an instant headache. She giggled before covering it up with a cough. “Should I make your meals to-go?”

  “Yes.”

  “No!”

  He raised an eyebrow, bit his lip, and smiled. “Have it your way, Sugar. I’m very good at the waiting game.”

  ***

  The meal was nice, quieter than I expected. I ordered fish and chips while Garrison ate a steak, practically raw if the blood dripping from the thing was any indication. He polished if off before I finished my glass of Merlot, and ordered another one when I started in on my food.

  I looked at him as I munched on a ketchup-slathered French fry. “Aren’t you happy we stayed?”

  He shrugged as he dug into his veggies and baked potato. He swallowed hard before answering. “I’m fine with not eating if I’m getting satisfied in another way.”

  I suppressed my blush by pure force of will. “You can’t live on only sex, Garrison.”

  “It wouldn’t be only anything, Sugar. I don’t know the type of pansy-ass men you’ve been with before, but eating you—” he paused and let the meaning of his words soak in as if I hadn’t already known what he meant “—would be better than every steak in the world.”

  I placed my half-eaten fry down, too horny to even try to choke down the food. I wondered if I would sneak off and rub one out before—

  “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.”

  My eyes widened. “I was n—”

  His look shut me down, hard. He couldn’t know what I was thinking. But with the look he was casting me, I know he did. The blush I’d been holding back crawled up my face and burned my cheeks so badly I was wondering if I needed Aloe Vera.

  “I-I have to go to the bathroom,” I stammered out as I scouted out of the seat, and all but ran away from him.

  “Make sure that’s all you do.”

  I was two steps from the tilted Ladies Restroom sign hanging off a paint-chipped door, when a quick hand stopped me. “‘Scuse me. You dropped your keys.”

  I turned in a half circle and stared into a handsome, bronzed face beaming at me with a killer smile. The man wagged the keys in front of me. “Miss?”

  I tripped over my words like some girl fresh out of middle school. “Oh my goodness. I didn’t even notice. Too caught up with—well, nothing. And I was just headed to the bathroom to cool off. Not that it’s hot with the AC on and everything, I’m just—” I dropped my head sheepishly, and pushed back a tuft of strawberry hair that fell over my eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Ryan, cher,” The man dropped the keys in my hand and smiled wider.

  “Chelsie.” I returned the smile and cocked my hip, “You from Louisiana?”

  “Born and raised.”

  I barked out a laugh, covered my mouth, turned away and then turned back. “Where in Louisiana?”

  Ryan leaned back in his chair and pushed out the one across from his, gesturing for me to sit. I had sat down before I knew what I was doing. “‘bout twenty miles away from New Orleans. Small town you ain’t never heard of.”

  His accent came out thicker, colored by the district Louisiana notes. I’d bounced up and down the South, picked up different dialects, and stuck with the drawl most Northerners knew. It was refreshing to hear that specific drawl, mixed in with a smattering of Creole. I’d never learned it, but on holidays my daddy took us to New Orleans and I fell in love with the language.

  I leaned my elbows on the table and smiled. “How do you know that? I’m from Clam Tree. Only about twenty people outside of the town ever heard of it.”

  He laughed the sound smooth and sweet like honey. “You’re right about that, ‘cause I’ve never heard of it.”

  I stared at Ryan as he began to talk about his home. Leather and tattoos meshed together so I wasn’t sure if I was looking at his arms of his jacket. A gold piercing tugged at his lips, his crooked nose and a small white scar at his temple gave him a dangerous aura. I knew immediately he was a seasoned biker, from his worn black boots up to his messy black curls, the man looked like he belonged in the wild.

  All of a sudden, his expression hardened and the smile vanished from his face. My spine froze, and I leaned back in my chair only to feel the comforting warmth and smell wash over me.

  I turned a smile on my face, to Garrison. “Look who I just—” The smile froze on my face, stuck there like a kid’s tongue on a street lamp pole in winter.

  He looked angry.

  He was angry.

  “I thought you were going to the bathroom.”

  I wanted to rub my arms at the chill coming off of him. “I got side-tracked.”

  Ryan moved on the seat behind me, and I turned and looked back over at him. His elbows were on his knees, fingers linked together. He was looking between Garrison and me. “Something wrong?”

  Garrison’s lips drew back and he raked Ryan with a condescending glance. “Keep looking at her like that and there will be.”

  I shot up quick, the bar owner in me sensing a fight before the woman in me knew what to do. “Nothing happened, Garrison. You’re being irrational. The both of you are. ” I turned and glared at Ryan, before switching back. “I was just having a conversation on my way to the bathroom, no harm, no foul. Now, go pay the check so we can leave while I finish what I was going to do.”

  Garrison looked like he wanted to protest, but a sharp, narrow-eyed look from me sent him on his way. I turned back to Ryan and forced a smile. “It’s been lovely talking with you, but I have to go.”

  He leaned back in his chair and resumed his relaxed pose, though now it looked force. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, cher.”

  I didn’t say anything as I turned, slapped a hand on my jeans pocket to make sure my house keys were there, and headed to the bathroom.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The drive back to the ranch was laden with things left unsaid. I knew Garrison was angry, but I knew going on the defensive or offensive wouldn’t help anyway. And that was the only way I knew how to do things. And I really didn’t want to fight with Garrison, the man was my… I wasn’t sure yet, but I knew he was something special.

  I liked Garrison, liked spending time with him. With Yannik—hell, even my father, I’d always felt caged, like I was walking on eggshells. I didn’t have to do that around Garrison, didn’t have to pretend to be anything I wasn’t, or something he wanted me to be. It had taken a while, but I’d figured out who I wanted to be, and I wasn’t going to change that person for anyone. Luckily and happily, Garrison didn’t want me to change for him, he liked me for me.

  “This is going to be really bad sex if you keep growling and grinding your teeth. It’s going to be especially hard to kiss you with th
at frown on your face,” I said flippantly as he drove down the road.

  I watched his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

  “And I don’t like the way you're looking at me now,” I returned quickly.

  His hands tightened further and I thought his knuckles might pop right out of his skin. “Not the same.”

  “No sex it is.” I crossed my arms and stared out the window. “I was going to change into this small string—oh, forget it.”

  That piqued his interest, and his tone softened and dropped to a bedroom purr. “String what?”

  “Nothing,” I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now anyway since you're in a pissy mood.”

  “I’m not in a pissy mood,” he said pissily.

  “Sure you're not.”

  Silence stretched in the car before he broke it with two gruff words. “String what?”

  I shifted, leaned over, and whispered the exact details of the flimsy little scrap I was going to put on. I was flattened against the seat a second later as he sped down the road, and pulled up to the ranch with a squeal of brakes and the brunt of rubber tires. He was out the door and jogging around the side before I could crack a wise-guy smile.

  Men. So predictable.

  Garrison yanked open my door, unbuckled my seatbelt, and picked me up in his arms. He slammed the door shut with his foot, then took the front steps two at a time. “Keys,” he demanded gruffly.

  I wiggled in his grasp and grabbed them from my back pocket. He yanked them out of my hand and forced them through the hole with quick, sure movement and had me in the house and up the stairs in record time.

  Garrison tossed me onto the bed and I collapsed into a downy soft comforter that smelled like fresh cotton. “Not jealous anymore?"

  Garrison yanked his tan shirt over his head and shimmied out of his jeans. "Never was."

  I wanted to roll my eyes and call him a liar, but he was suddenly naked in front of me and I couldn't think. The man was muscled, thick but lean. I bet he was a skinny kid. On his chest was a swath of light blonde hair, thickening before it narrowed down to a slightly darker line and traveled all the way below the elastic waist of his briefs. I groaned, the sound caught in my throat and rolled around my tongue, tightening my nipples. "You look..."

  He smirked. Garrison knew exactly how he looked, knew the exact impact he had on me. Why hadn't I noticed this before, the knee buckling attraction I had to the man? I’d come so close to giving myself to him until Yannik crept up and the passion was lost. But maybe Yannik hadn't just crept up, but he'd been there the entire time, the shadow over my life, the clock ticking away.

  "I won't be able to stop this time, Chelsie," Garrison said solemnly.

  I knew what he meant. This was my last out. If I asked him to stop in the middle, he wasn't sure he'd be able, and I wasn't sure that wouldn't be the end of us. Garrison was a good man, strong and dependable. But he was also male with a light sheet covering up his animal nature. I liked him that way. I wanted him that way.

  "I won't stop you," my voice was steady and strong, contrary to the thunderous beat of my heart. I was nervous but excited. It'd been so long since I had a man, so long since I'd felt warmth against my skin. I didn't want to wait and wish and hope.

  I was desperate, needing Garrison like a hummingbird needed a flower.

  I pulled my shirt and jeans off fast. Stripped down to my underwear and bra, I couldn’t help but feel a moment of hesitation. What if he didn’t like my body? It was dark in the room, but the moon was bright, acting as a peeping-tom in the bedroom. I looked down at myself and then Garrison. I wasn’t thin by any stretch, never having lost those extra twenty pregnancy pounds, but I liked my body nonetheless. I’d always been a waif thin girl, sort of gangly looking. Pretty dresses and accessories had covered up my insecurities and time had smoothed out my imperfections. I was happy with myself, but for a second I wondered if Garrison was?

  I’d long ago stopped trying to change myself for others, but I wanted Garrison to want me. Wanted him to look at me like all the boys had back in high school. I forced my gaze to his face, stared straight at him to gauge his reaction.

  He looked like he was in pain.

  Lips drawn in a tight line, face contorted as if he was grimacing, and his jaw locked. I looked him up and down quickly and as I did, a half groan crawled from his throat and along my skin. “Fucking Christ, Sugar.”

  Oh. That’s why he looked like he was in pain. My eyes glued to the bulge in his briefs. I’d noticed something there, but nerves had sent my eyes to every corner of the room. Now I stared, the length of his dick resting nearly flat on his stomach and balls drawn up tight molded to the briefs. Peeking just from the top of his elastic band was the broad, slightly red head of his dick.

  Garrison was large. Larger than me. Too large.

  “I’ll make sure you’re good and ready for me when the time comes, Chelsie.” It was one of the few times Garrison called me by my full name and I felt the gravity of the situation descend over me like a current pulling me under.

  I was doing this. The statement was punctuated by a sudden dip in the bed from Garrison’s weight, heat sliding against my bare skin, and lips and tongue that tasted like meat and blood sliding against mine. There was something else, some other flavor unfurling in my mouth, spreading warm through my body. Hmm… I didn’t know what it was, but it was nice.

  Garrison lowered me back to the comforter, one hand behind my hand unclasping my bra. I felt his hair brush my nipples a second later and gasped into his mouth. He ripped the bra all the way off and then moved his arm back around me, forearm under my neck, a big hand cradling my head.

  For long minutes we kissed, tongues sliding against each other, trading flavors like favors, and mixing until I tasted a feast. But I didn’t just want to taste him. My hands came out from between our bodies, traced his bunching biceps and moved around. Garrison was broad, broader than I thought he was. Or was I just that small?

  “Fuck, you think too much,” he growled, drawing back.

  I pulled a face. “You curse too much.”

  “Only when I’m with you. You drive me insane. I nearly had a heart attack when you shot Hardell. Fuck, Chels, you have me wrapped around your little finger.”

  I didn’t know how to react to that. I’d only known him for a little while, and I’d gone on one date with the guy. But then, no one ever said they walked into love or glided slowly over to it. They fell. Hard.

  I reached down and slid off my panties. Garrison caught my leg, shifted and lifted it up. He caught the piece of fabric with his teeth, trapped my gaze in the blue of his, and slowly pulled. I felt the scrap of cotton against my sensitized skin, the trail of an extra piece of string tickling the inside of my leg. How he made taking off panties look so effortless and sexy, I’d never know.

  “Hmm…” Garrison mumbled, tossing the scrap of cotton somewhere in the room and placed a heated kiss on the inside of my ankle. “Your skin is so soft.”

  And his chin was just a little rough. He needed to shave, but for some reason I didn’t want him to. I wanted to feel the burn against my skin, wake up with the evidence that this night had happened on every inch of skin that he touched.

  A quick tug from Garrison had me at the edge of the bed. I snapped my eyes open, forgetting that I ever closed them. Moonlight illuminated everything in a silvery glow like it might snow any second in the bedroom. It disappeared into the wooden walls, bounced off the dusty pictures of cowboys, and highlighted every contour of Garrison’s body. Knelt. Between. My. Legs.

  I arched clear off the bed, ripping the freshly made sheets and comforter from under the mattress at the first touch of his tongue to my clit. The man didn’t do anything half-heartedly, he went in for the kill. My thighs shook and sweat misted my skin as he went between nibbling on the outer lips of my vagina, swirling his tongue around my clit, and biting the tender flesh of my thighs.

  I stuffe
d the comforter in my mouth and screamed, tried to close my thighs around his head as I came. His hands held me wide, high, fingers bruising the skin under my knees. The mattress was wet when I finally came down and I blushed so hard, I was sure all the blood had just rushed to my face.

  “Please…” I wasn’t above begging, but that was the only word I could get out. My throat was too sore, muscles too tight in some places and jelly in others.

  He swiped a tongue from the curve of my ass to my thigh and bit down lightly. “You’re not ready yet.”

  I couldn’t count the seconds or minutes that passed, though I tried. For some reason, the internal clock I’d lived with for all my life was off, skewed by Garrison’s artful mouth and hands. I came two more times and lost my voice before he thought I was ready.