by V. Theia
She was safe at least, with people looking after her, making sure she ate, Zara told herself. There was nothing physically she could do for Angela, she was better where she was.
No home. No car, not even a cellphone, god, she needed to get her life back in order and she would, soon, she promised. Soon. Maybe.
Now she had a date to perfect if her body would stop reacting as if she was about to throw up ... starting with her clothes. She didn't have anything remotely sexy, but she'd laid out a pair of white jeans and a light pink tank top. She thought to all her clothes in her dorm room, and the ones she'd left at home at her parent's house, she had several things she could have worn to knock Rider's socks off.
At least raise his eyebrows.
Zara had no idea what happened to her things she'd left in her college room, thrown out, she supposed when she never returned to pack them up after graduation. But what of her stuff at home? She filed that under things to deal with later. Talking to her parents right now wouldn't be a good idea. Only one heart pumping task at a time.
She was placing a napkin on the table next to the cutlery trying to make it look appealing for a biker when she heard him. One moment she was alone in the kitchen, the next he filled the doorway. Rider and his smile. "You're early. I like punctuality."
Rider let go of a humming noise, otherwise didn't reply her wiseass remark, his raked hooded gaze said it all. He looked like he always did; rugged hair caught up in a bun at the back of his head, dark jeans encasing his legs, his wallet chain clanking against his belt, his shirt looked clean, a white long sleeve undershirt over a dark gray T-shirt.
In other words, he was gorgeous.
She shivered and knew the reason for his longing look a moment later, his long legs brought him over, Zara blinked in awe of his stature, the hotness of him licked all over her skin. She meant to say his name as a warning, yet it came out more of a moan.
A wanted noise that mirrored in her eyes, why else would Rider have stepped forward, grasped her around the waist and crushed her mouth.
It was a movie kiss, no tongues, just lips reluctantly to leave each other's mouths.
Zara drew back first, his eyes were so dark now, rich dark arousal. She was convinced if it were left to Rider to decide they'd be using the table for a whole other reason than food.
And now she was thinking about sex.
Great.
"Needed that first before you date me, Icy."
She turned before he could see her blush. "Take a seat, Prez. I have food fit for, well, a president. I hope you like it." Ears attuned to his every movement she caught his feet shuffling away, and then he sat, she peeked over her shoulder, blue eyes watching her, streaking down her body and rested on her butt.
He was determined to make this hard for her.
Food first. Her jangling nerves dictated they have food first before anything … else.
He looked good. Really good.
"You cooked me food. I'll like it. It smells delicious."
"A little bird told me you like chicken fried steak, and there are gooey mac and cheese with bacon bits and garlic green beans as sides. I don't like to brag, but they're pretty yummy."
"Uncle Jed is a gossipin' bastard." he laughed guessing correctly who’d helped her prep for dinner.
Thrilled with the noise, Zara watched his face soften. "I can't comment, I protect my sources, but I said I'd set him a plate aside."
She told him of her phone call. “The kid is doin’ okay?”
“Far as I can tell. Who knows what lasting damage there’s going to be.” her face changed with a grimace. “Only time will tell. I just hope her foster family can help her. She’s just a little kid still. It’s a lot for her to cope with.”
“Zara baby. You know you can talk to me, right?” she met his eyes, saw his sincerity. Why did it make her heart clench? She discerned the answer and told him honestly.
“I know. But. Rider. I’m never going to talk to you about what happened. You already know too much that makes me uncomfortable. No, let me finish, please. I think I’m going to have therapy, I read a leaflet in that clinic. I don’t want you to know. I want to be just Zara to you. Not poor Zara. It happened, and fuck them all, now I make myself better. So, therapy. What do you think?”
“Always got ears for you, know that. But if you want therapy I think it’s a good idea.” He’d braced both arms onto the table, fingers loosely laced, looking casual and gorgeous. There were so many layers to this man, she’d seen many already, and still she was not even close to the center of him, she imagined she never would be and that was just lovely. He was showing her who he was.
Don't panic, it's just a date.
The thought of being on a date with Rider was frankly, ludicrous. He was not the kind of guy you went on moonlit walks with, or to view a midnight showing of Harry Potty.
He was the type of guy who pushed you into a room, locked the door and then did hot groping, a lot of dirty talk of everything he wanted to do to you, before doing them three or four times. No restrictions, just mind-blown, terribly wicked delicious things.
Definitely no dating in that.
She was a Disney Princess and Rider the rogue bad guy.
Fated to never get along.
But here they were.
"Zara?"
"Hm?"
"You wanna turn around and look at me? I'm havin' a conversation with your back," he asked.
"I need to watch these garlic beans if they catch on the pan the whole meal is ruined." she said weakly when in truth even having him behind her his voice was enough to wreck her composure.
"Then it'll be fuckin' ruined, we'll grab a pizza. Look at me, baby. I wanna see your eyes when we talk." He chided gently, coaxing her in that whiskey tone of his that went straight to the core of her.
So demanding. So bossy. Why was her belly flipping over? Wrinkling her nose, she turned hoping he'd ignore her cheeks and their heightened color. She'd accepted it long ago she was a blusher, it happened so often when she was younger.
But now the MC president seemed to bring it out in her.
"I see you. Is that better?"
"Yeah, it is. You look beautiful, Zara. " he sent her one of those grins that stirred her heart and pierced a straight path to between her legs. She was getting wet from a simple smile and she was wearing new underwear, they'd be ruined. "Now get over here. You can't date me from over there."
"The food---"
"Can wait. Come here, baby. I don't bite." his gaze smoldered, she begged to differ with his claim. But still she crossed the floor, drawn by an invisible thread from her to him, he pulled her down on his lap.
"I think you have the definition of dating wrong, Rider. This right here is a date, in the same place, sharing food and conversation, requiring to be this close isn't necessary." She wet her lips nervously, saw how his eyes flipped down to watch.
Her belly did that thing again.
"This is how you date me, real close and personal and sat on my dick." To prove his point Rider leaned in and ran his nose along the curve of her cheek. "Mmm ... you smell fuckin' incredible, Icy."
Desire crept up on her, teased her breasts, causing her nipples to pebble and press to the inside of her shirt. Greedy little things wanting his attention, too. She had to draw a staggered breath before speaking "Do you always say what you're thinking?"
"Don't like it?" he was amused, one corner of his mouth tilted up.
So cocky.
"I'm not stroking your already humongous ego, Prez, we might not fit you through the door after dessert."
"You're my dessert. I'll have it right here." Another roll of his nose, this time down her neck, what could Zara do but arch her head to the side and allow him full access. Her pulse was hammering. "Let's get this food on the go, baby, then we can have that fuckin' dessert, I'm starvin' for you." he left her with a wet kiss on her neck, open mouthed, tongue licking, before lifting her off him.
The man went r
ight to her head quicker than any alcohol. While she plated up the food, he poured her a glass of a wine and grabbed a bottle of beer for himself. They ate in relative silence, the good kind of silence where you don't feel the need to fill in the blanks. Zara was enjoying watching him enjoying her food, he had two helpings.
It was around the time Rider had her pinned against the sink after she'd filled the dishwasher, his hand buried deep in her hair, the other squeezing her ass and his mouth on the side of her neck that she quietly went a little insane with lust for him.
It was strange. An emotion she hadn't felt in so long it was taking her breath as she grew accustomed to it raging through her body, making her breasts ache to want his attention, and she was wet. But she sure was revisiting all those old feelings she had for him.
"Did we do enough datin’? just tell me and I'll dance you around this kitchen and whisper sweet dirty nothin's. if we have I'm takin' you to my room."
Oh...
Yes, yes yes.
Kisses trailed down her throat, his tongue licking and she remembered how he once used that tongue between her legs. He drove her mad that night with that wicked tormenting tongue.
"Rider. I.."
He brought his face to hers. His mouth was right there in reaching distance, she could taste the air he breathed and she was doing some of her own panting, eyes so blue so unwavering were hypotonic, she was swaying towards him ready to take him up on his silent invitation to suck the shit out of his tongue when--- the door burst open breaking her spell.
Startled, all three of them froze at the same time, though Zara suspected Rider's and his prospect's heart wasn't pounding out of their chests like hers was.
Rider growled in greeting "The fuck, Slider?"
"Daaaamn. Oh fuck. Sorry, Prez. Ms. Zara." the guy had the good grace to look repentant he'd interrupted their evening.
"You can't read? note on the door, prospect, says for everyone to fuck off tonight." It did not. Zara had written a quite polite note, taping it to the door, asking people to please use other means of the kitchen for a few hours. Rider had no manners whatsoever, it made her giggle behind her fingers.
He'd kept her plastered to his hip with one hand to her waist but punched a stare at Slider dark enough to murder the poor boy... Lusty tension clawed at her fingers, making her grip his shirt at the back, to lean hard into his ribcage feeling his heart rap heavily, she'd just wanted to kiss him, really kiss him, taste him, kiss him for days until they ran out of air. Rider's hand slid down her back, rested on her hip. "Not feelin' generous right now, spit it out, unless you're askin' for a bruise or ten."
"Rider!" she gasped placing her hand on his chest. "He's not going to hit you, Slider.
"Debatable. Waitin' prospect." Droll was his second skin. Why was that attractive?
"Sorry, Prez. Hawk ordered me to get him a beer and---"
"That jerkoff. Tell him he can fuckin' die of thirst and to stop sendin' brown-nosers to interrupt me." She thought the boy was incredibly astute when he turned and made for the door like he was on fire. "And, prospect, I see you without your vest again you'll be wearin' more than bruises, you get me?"
"Sir. Yes, Prez. Sorry again, Ms. Zara."
"He was nice and polite, you were hard on him, Rider," she said after he'd scuttled out. Rider rounded on her, crushed her mouth without warning, this time his tongue dipped in and went deep and wet, so slow she lost the power to think, just opened and moaned.
It was over way too soon.
"My room, now, Icy. or I'll fuck you on the stove, I don't care." his breath brushed her lips, desperate gulps of air to match the tempo her lungs were churning. Oh yes. Desire was pounding her insides, swirling into places she thought long since dead, all awakening for this man. "I fuckin' need you now." He went on and she moaned again leaning against his chest, letting him hold her up 'cause she was in real danger of her knees giving out. Oh, how she agreed. Now was a good time, right now was even better.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“I must’a been a worse asshole in a previous life than I am now to get this much cockblockin’...” – Rider
Some motherfucker was meddling to stop Rider getting his dick back into all that sweet, because the second he manoeuvred Zara out of the kitchen, hand to butt, his cock strained aching, his mouth wanting all over her, the look on her face, a mix of trepidation and lust was driving him fucking crazy, it all went to shit when he heard someone call out his name.
He growled a noise of annoyance, swiveling his body, keeping Zara touched and in contact with him as he caught Texas' hands in the air, contrite on his face as if his treasurer knew what he had interrupted.
They all damn well knew but it didn't stop Hawk fucking with him by sending the prospect through.
Now Texas.
Did he have to crack skulls to get a little peaceful sex around here?
"What?" he barked none too nicely. Besides him, tucked against his ribs and dick he heard Zara giggle. Music to his sex filled ears. But he wanted her moans and screams more.
Nothing short of murder in his eyes pinning Texas.
"I know, Prez. I know." he adjusted his tie, the knot already perfect, he had a nervous tell. This was not going to be good, Rider surmised, he was getting further away from fucking his girl. One hand coasted down her hip, held it there, keeping a warm connection, he knew how nervous she was, giving her any time alone to think and talk herself out of them being together was not on his to-do list. "I would not have..." He indicated to Rider and Zara, his face sharp. "Your father is on the line, he said he couldn't reach you."
For good reason, Rider had switched his cell phone off to enjoy time with Zara.
Now he was straight up pissed off.
His growl wasn't harnessed in any way. "Right." was all he told Texas, irritation plain to hear.
He turned to Zara. "I gotta take this call, baby." or the old man would just keep at it like a fucking boil that needed lancing. They had long deep seated issues and if Rider could have cut his father's relationship off as easily as he had cut his father's VP reign then he would be a happy man. Only for his mother and sister did he continue this annoying fucking merry-go-round with him.
He dropped a kiss on her forehead, lowered his voice so only she would hear. "This won't take long, I promise. Then you're mine, right?" she nodded, but he felt the shudder go through her. "Zara, say it. Lemme hear the words."
"I'm all yours when you get back. Go talk to your dad, Rider. I’ll be here."
The declaration went south, pounded behind his zipper, pulsing his cock harder.
He gnarled again, frustration eating at him.
The old man better have something important to say.
"Wait at the bar for me. I want to undress you myself."
She sucked in a breath, her smile trembling. Rider smirked, cranking his neck down he took a lazy tasting kiss, not the one he wanted, but he stroked his tongue against hers, it would have to hold him for now. "Fuckin' sweet. Want more of that. Be back, baby."
He strode off to see what bullshit his father would spew today. Nothing Rider wanted to hear that he was sure of.
Expecting to see Zara sat at the bar when he re-entered the clubhouse, maybe having a Dutch courage drink, he frowned not seeing her at all. "Zara?" he asked Jed. His uncle pointed the hand he was polishing a glass with through into the common room.
"Through there, son, having fun from the sounds of it."
Raucous fun was what he heard, too. Curiosity drew him forward, not to mention where the fuck was Icy, he told her to sit at the bar for him, had she forgotten all about their sex date?
Fucking blow to his ego. At least sit pining me for, baby.
Loud yells, curses, and cheers greeted Rider. A few steps and he could see why. His boys were huddled around a coffee table in front of the tv set up, clutching beers, a pile of money in the middle of the table, they were betting on something. From what he could see through the mob of brothers, Zara was up a
gainst Pretty-boy right at the front, both standing, holding a game console each tossing fighting words between them.
"Damn. Z-girl's gonna hand the kid his balls!" one said.
"I should have put a Benji on her." Another followed.
"Itty bitty girl is about to bury you, Pretty." Laughter rang loud.
But Rider's eyes were all about Zara. She was laughing, more animated than he'd ever seen her. Light danced in her eyes as she went on to wipe the floor with Pretty at Mortal Kombat.
All of his men shouted as one Finish him.
The crowd cheered and right as she caught his eyes she was in the process of a bow, basking in the praise. His mouth upturned, as did his brow, arms folded against his chest.
She blushed gazing at him, giving him that shy smile, fingers tucking hair behind her ear.
"I want a rematch. Fuck. I went easy on you Z-girl!"
"The skills never leave you. Gamer 2010 thank you very much. If you want to lose more, how much am I up now, please, Texas?" He told her. The figure made her grin. The scene shot to Rider's cock. Fuck, she was beautiful.
His scared little sunshine was having fun.
Instead of sitting anticipating for him to fuck her.
Jesus.
And she was a gamer hustler. Who knew.
"Zara..." his voice reached through the noise, heads turned to see him stood in the middle of the common room. Eyes bounced between them, but he was all about her and the blush creeping up her face.
Beautiful.
"Oh. Hey, Rider! Tiny invited me to play while I waited for you."
"She slaughtered him in under a minute and then made Pretty here her bitch." chimed Snaked with a laugh, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"And Pretty-boy said he could beat me easily. Now I have three hundred and forty-two dollars."
"Rematch!" the loser in question scowling declared. And fuck Rider if she didn't get right back to playing a fresh game.
Twenty fucking long minutes he waited before impatience set into his bones.
