Always (Wesson Rebel M.C. Series)

by Colt, Shyla

  Wesson Rebel M.C. Series

  Book One

  Always

  Shyla Colt

  Published by Hot Ink Press

  This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ©Text Copyright 2014 Shyla Colt

  Cover By Rue Volley

  Edited By Elizabeth A. Lance

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  I want to dedicate this to all my amazing Colts out there, and new readers taking a chance on an author they haven’t met yet. It’s your support that makes it possible for me to keep going. To my amazing editors, Leanore, and Elizabeth, I can’t thank you enough for all your guidance and hard work. For my book pusher, Sav, thank you for the friendship, and the honesty. Thank you to my family and friends who share me with the characters who live inside my head, and to the man upstairs who’s blessed me with the desire to write.

  Play list:

  Snow Patrol: The lighting Strike

  Florence + The Machine: Breathe of Life

  The Kills: U R a Fever

  Modest Mouse : Float on

  David Bowie : Changes

  Coldplay: The Scientist

  Lana Del Rey : Flipside

  Andrew Bell : IN my Veins

  Stateless: BloodStream

  Florence+ The Machine : Never Let me Go

  Florence + The Machine : Breathe of Life

  Neil Young: Old Man

  Lykke Li Kleerup : Until We Bleed

  Led Zepplin : Ramble On

  Back to the Start

  Cora

  I’ve loved Dallas Wesson my entire life in some form. My earliest memories are of me, toddling around after him at family picnics and the old ladies homes. They were our surrogate mothers and babysitters when our fathers left for those long rides. I think I cried when he started school and left me behind. So I suppose, it was no surprise when that love took on a mature tone. I never saw anyone else. What chance did a high school boy have when I grew up with a green-eyed Greek god who protected me from everything? None.

  When I hit womanhood at thirteen and the estrogen began to flow liked popped champagne, I began to see him in a whole new light. Watching the endless parade of women, he ran through like pairs of socks…hurt. Each perfectly shaped bombshell he flaunted, cut like a tiny slice to my heart accompanied by a knock to my self-esteem. It’s fucked up what your mind can do when you’re a pre-teen with a case of unrequited love. I felt desperate to grow up too fast. If I’d fully understood the things being Dallas’ woman entailed, I might’ve pumped the brakes. Not that it would’ve mattered in the end. Fate has a way of bringing us together no matter what bullshit life tossed our way. Each crisis averted and overcame bound us tighter, until eventually, I understood for me the answer would be Dallas Wesson—always.

  Love is a funny thing. It doesn’t guarantee a happily-ever-after, or an easy way to go. Soul mate means even when you should hate someone, you can’t give up on them. It makes you stupid and more giving than you could ever imagine feeling. It’s the spell that falls over you and makes you do things you swore you were above. I never understood the phrase there's a thin line between love and hate, until Dallas Wesson and I became us.

  Past

  I glance up from the books scattered across the table in the living room and smile wistfully. Danny, Dallas’ brother has his arms around Rowan’s waist. Her flaming red hair blends with his dark brown as he whispers in her ear. I force my eyes back down to my work and stifle the jealousy that threatens to eat me from the inside out. Danny and Rowan have an amazing relationship. They were always close, but when they hit fifteen things shifted. I’m happy for them. They’re two of my closest, okay…two of my only friends.

  Growing up in Wesson MC your social circle is miniscule. We don’t take kindly to outsiders for good reason. We live by a different code. Normal people can’t understand the things we do, or the logic we apply to our colorful situations. Not to mention, you can’t protect someone not in the life from a blowback when shit goes down. Rivals don’t care who people are, only that you care about them.

  We’re in my house today. With just me and my dad, Reaper. In this three-bedroom two-bath house, there’s a lot more room than the others have in smaller dwellings. Plus, as club president, Danny and Dallas’ dad has women in and out all the time.

  The front door opens. Dad is home early. A wide grin spreads across my lips and I know I must look like an imbecile. I peer across the open layout. The broad-shouldered Adonis with a strong jaw and beautiful masculine features in the doorway is not who I expected. My happiness deflates. Dallas’ presence twists my guts up into a tangled mess. I stare at the calculus in front of me, wishing I could be invisible. This is why I wanted to go away to college in the first place.

  “There she is,” Dallas rumbles. Like the bike he rides, his snarly seductive tone can’t be mistaken for anyone else’s.

  Chill bumps breakout over my back. My breasts grow heavy. Heat spreads across my cheeks and travels down my neck. Once more, I thank God for my mocha-colored skin. I managed to give him a weak smile. Our relationship has been strained badly for the past six months.

  Confusion muddies his vibrant green eyes… Guilt eats at my stomach like a hungry T-Rex.

  His off and on again, whatever she is, gets the picture. The strawberry blonde haired bitch, never fails to rub their relationship, or my presumed lack of experience in my face.

  “Yep, here I am, buried in math.” The equations on the paper might as well be scrambled, because I do not understand a damn thing just now.

  “It’s your fault for being so fucking smart,” Dallas says, grinning as he walks over and tugs at my ponytail.

  The brotherly gesture sends my heart into my stomach, like an elevator on its way to the bottom floor. I’ll never be more than his pseudo little sister. All I want to do is retreat to my room and lick my wounds. Unfortunately, it would be too obvious. “That’s right, I forgot you like them dumb,” I say, delivering a tiny barb to assuage my own pain.

  Dallas narrows his eyes. “Who the fuck told you that?”

  “No one had to. She has eyes, same as the rest of us,” Rowan says.

  I mentally thank her for jumping in and saving me from making a total ass of myself.

  “Don’t start with the busting my balls. I came over to talk to the birthday girl about what she wants. Don’t be crabby, Co.” He pulls out the chair beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his body.

  I bite my lip to keep my purr of contentment inside, then my body relaxes.

  He places a sweet kiss on my cheek. “There’s my Baby Girl.” He leans back and pins me with his sparkling green eyes.

  I’m ensnared against my will, unable to do anything more but hold the intense gaze. Our connection hums to life.

  “What do you want to do for your twenty-first, sweetheart?”

  You. I will him to understand with my eyes. “I don’t know,” I whisper, feeling nervous now that he’s focused on me.

  “You always know what you want, Coey. It’s in your blood.”

  The nickname melts me from the inside out like a chocolate lava cake. “I don’t want anyone to make a bi
g deal over it.”

  “What?” Rowan asks.

  “Come on, you know she doesn’t like being in the spotlight, Irish,” Dallas sneers.

  “Are you telling me you know my best friend better than me?” Rowan places her hands on her hips. Her lips form a straight line.

  With the look Rowan is wearing, I start imagining the walls being painted red.

  “What? You think you’re the only one who cares about Baby Girl or knows her inside and out?” Dallas’ voice drops an octave. His jaw twitches and his body tenses. “You’d be wrong.”

  “I want to go to the boardwalk,” I blurt the words out, capturing his attention. “Like we used to, just you and me.” My heart bounces of my ribs so hard, I swear one is going to break. What the hell am I thinking?

  His eyes soften. He tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear. “You sure that’s what you want?”

  “Yep, if we disappear early in the morning no one will be able to find me and embarrass me half to death.” The excuse sounds lame, even to my own ears, but it’s the best I have. So, I’m sticking to it. “Spread the word. I want a small gathering at the club Friday, members of this chapter only. That’s it. I don’t want this to turn into a gigantic clusterfuck.”

  Dallas chuckles. “Whatever you want you get.”

  Yeah, if only that were the truth.

  He leans in and caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “It’s hard to believe you’re turning twenty-one tomorrow, Baby Girl. It seems like just yesterday you were rocking pigtails.”

  The words are a slap my face. Why does he keep bringing up the past? The three years between us isn’t that vast of a difference. “We all grow up sometime, Dall.”

  “Yeah, we do.” His eyes hold a strange expression I can’t quite place. It disappears, replaced by his trademark shit eating grin.

  When have I ever been able to resist this man? Never. This is why the next day, I find myself skipping class and climbing onto the back of his bike a little after nine in the morning.

  “Been a long time since I had a woman on the back of my back,” he says.

  “What about, Anna?” I asked, unable to keep the snark from my voice.

  He snickers. “That’s trim, baby, not dating material.”

  My jaw drops. Well, she sure as hell doesn’t know that.

  “Trust me sweetheart, she knows.”

  Fuck, I said that out loud?

  “Wishful thinking makes her say shit she shouldn’t.” He reeves his engine and I wrap my arms around his waist to hold tight. Resting my face up against the worn leather of his cut, I inhale the scent and allow myself to pretend this is my rightful position. The wind blows the ends of my hair back, and I promise myself I’ll savor this before I finally move on. This is the last year I’ll spend waiting on my pipe dream of love with Dallas Wesson.

  The pier looks the same as it always does, miles of sandy white dunes, blue water and carnival-like games and food booths. I adored the throw back to the fifties and sixties. Some of my best memories of my dad came from this place. Classic rock and oldies played over the speakers, adding to the atmosphere.

  “Why do you love this place so much, Co?” Dallas asked as we strolled over the slightly worn wood toward the end of the pier.

  “Nostalgia maybe? It reminds me of when we were kids, when everyone would ride up here for the day and forget about all the drama.

  “Yeah, those were the days.” Dallas sighs.

  “You doing okay?” I study his face. The years have been kind to his face and body, but his eyes are that of a man far older. It’s no secret P is grooming him for the President patch.

  “Yeah, sometimes I miss those days when the biggest concern was keeping track of you three and what kind of sweets we were going to gorge ourselves on.”

  I laughed. “God, you got so sick off fried food.”

  “Ugh.” He pats his slim belly. “Don’t remind me. I’ll never look at funnel cake the same way again.”

  “I told you not to have that third one,” I remind him.

  “Yes you did, Baby Girl. You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you?”

  “Duh, that’s what friends do.”

  “Yes, but it’s always been different, between us, hasn’t it?” He tilts his head to the side, staring.

  I feel exposed for the fraud I am. “What?” I ask, shifting my weight from one leg to the other.

  “Just taking in the woman you’ve become.”

  “Seriously?” I snicker. “You’ve been here every step of the way.”

  “Yeah, I have, that’s the problem.” He shakes his head.

  My mouth goes dry. “W—what do you mean?”

  “Nothing, come on, let’s go enjoy your day. I’m buying you your first legal drink. No one’s going to take that right from me.”

  “Not with that mean mug you’re sporting,” I say totally lost. He’s acting out of character right now and I’m not sure what to make of it. I wish Rowan were here. She’s a pro at reading people.

  “What do you want to do first?” he asks. “It’s your day after all.”

  “Games.” Excitement rises in my chest as I peruse the selection of classics.

  “You’re the only woman who’d get away with saying that in front of me.”

  “What?”

  “That you want to play games with me.”

  I shake my head. “You’re too serious, Dall, lighten up and have fun with me.” I widen my eyes and make my lower lip quiver. “Please.”

  He sighs. “You asked for this.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Being a little dramatic aren’t we?”

  “No, but I’m done fighting.”

  “Fighting? I don’t understand.”

  “I know. I just hope when it’s all said and done you won’t hate me for it.” He grabs my hand and leads me to the milk jugs before I can question him.

  Fine, be mysterious and aloof.

  “Ready for me to win you something?”

  “How about I win you something instead?” I ask, sassing him because I can.

  He chuckles. “This ain’t the rifle range hot shot. Your arm is as limp as spaghetti.”

  I pout. “You know how to charm a girl, don’t you?”

  “I don’t need to charm you, Cora. That’s the best part.” He winks and some of the wind leaves my sail.

  I’m not even on his level. “I challenge you anyways.”

  “At my own expense?” he asks.

  “Yeah, it is my birthday, besides your good for it. I’m a poor college student.”

  “Poor nothing, I see the stipend you get monthly,” he mutters, digging into his pocket for his wallet.

  We place our hands on the baseballs.

  “On your march, get set…”

  “It’s my birthday, screw you.” I let the first ball fly, laughing at the wide-eyed expression on his face.

  You don’t catch Dallas by surprise often. The ping of metal and the sound of his deep laughter is music to my ears. We spend the rest of the day, playing games, eating food and visiting the tourist traps. It’s the perfect swan song to my lifelong obsession. I have no illusions that moving on would be easy, but I’ve become stagnant.

  “Now, for the drink I promised you,” he says, grabbing my hand and guiding me to his bike.

  “You’re serious about being my first, aren’t you?”

  His nostrils flare and he squeezes my hand. “Cora, I can’t.” His words are strangled.

  “Da—”

  He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my body against his.

  I’m stunned into silence.

  “I can’t wait anymore.” His lips crash down on mine.

  I am lost. I grip his cut to keep my body upright. He tastes sweet, like the cotton candy and ice-cream we devoured. The smell of leather, spicy cologne and a musky scent that’s simply him surrounds me. His body is hard against mine and the warmth coming off him burns through my clothes.

  There’s nothing tentativ
e or soft about this kiss. He claims me with his expert tongue, leaving no part of my mouth untouched. I give him all I have, twining my tongue with his, surrendering to the incredible sensations he evokes. My muscles turn to liquid. I lean against him heavily. His hand slides down my back and cups my ass. I moan arching into him. He’s thick and hard against my lower belly. My panties are soaked and my head is spinning. Happiness unlike any I’ve ever known unfurls inside of me like a long awaited blossom.

  We break for air, but he keeps me pressed against him. “You see what you do to me, Cora? What you’ve always done to me. You know what kind of bastard I’ve felt like lusting after you like a fucking dog in heat?”

  “You have?” I whisper. The holes in my heart are instantly patched as realization dawns.

  “Fuck yes. Why do you think I always had some bitch with me? They were a distraction from the one thing I truly wanted.”

  “I wanted you too, Dallas only you. Always you.”

  He moans. “You weren’t ready, baby, not for what I want. I don’t know if you are, but I can’t hold off.” He shakes his head. “I need you like this in my life. Do you understand what I’m asking you, Baby Girl?”

  “Yes.” I don’t, but I won’t tell him that. I want it all with him. I only pray he wants a fraction of that.

  “I don’t think you do. I want you in my bed, on my bike and wearing my cut.”

  My soul rejoices. Then, reality bitch-slaps it back to earth. “My Daddy—?”

  “You let me worry about him. Is this what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  “Always? Because I’m never taking it back, never letting you go. The thought of another man touching you all this time has driven me out of my mind. You’ve always been mine, Cora. I think we both know that.”

  “I—I.” Tongue tied, I can only nod. His words are everything I’ve dreamed of hearing. I’m excited, terrified and hopeful. My vision is wavy and my chest is aching. I can’t think of anything, except the man in front of me.

  “Good.” He rubs his thumb across my bottom lip. “Now, how about that drink before we do something we’d shouldn’t right here on my bike.”