by Rye Hart
I slept the entire four and a half hours it took us to get to Gatlinburg. I woke up briefly once when we stopped for gas, but I fell back asleep right away. When I woke up for good, Ryan was standing over me, shaking me gently.
“Hey. Wake up,” he said.
I blinked at him, opening my eyes and staring into his face blearily. He was so beautiful and I actually found myself smiling a little. He cocked a brow at me.
“You alright? You have a creepy smile on your face.”
I sat up straight, quickly wiping the smile off my face. “No I don’t,” I answered quickly.
I grabbed my bag and started to stand up, but I moved too quickly and stumbled. I would have fallen flat on my face if Ryan hadn’t caught me. His arms were strong and it took every ounce of will in my body not to lean into his touch. I forced myself away from him and he frowned.
“Are you alright? You’re acting strange.”
“How would you know how I normally act?” I grunted, throwing my bag over my shoulder.
He frowned but followed me, opting to stay silent, which was probably the smart thing to do. The men who’d brought us here said their goodbyes and handed Ryan the keys to the cabin and the car that had been left for us. The cabin was a short walk up the hill and I started without him, tapping my foot as I waited at the door.
When Ryan opened the cabin door my jaw nearly hit the floor. I had been expecting something dank and dingy like an abandoned bunker or something. Instead we were greeted with a warm vacation home, complete with a fire place.
All of the furniture looked relatively new and very nice. There was a kitchen, and as I walked through the cabin I had the sudden urge to relax and actually enjoy myself, which surprised me more than a little. I thought I would feel guilty being up here having a good time.
Ryan set his bags down and looked around, whistling a little. “I didn’t really expect them to put us up in a place like this,” he admitted, looking around.
We started exploring the cabin and he followed me upstairs. My palms got a bit sweaty when I realized there was only one room. Ryan poked his head around and sighed. “Well. Looks like I’m sleeping on the couch.”
Something about him being a gentleman made my blood boil. I didn’t want to have any reason to like him. “It’s okay. I’ll sleep downstairs.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he murmured. “Those guys are after you. You’re more of a target if you’re downstairs. At least this way there’s a door between you and them. Gives you more time to prepare to fight.”
I was about to start arguing with him but he turned away and headed down the stairs, pulling his shirt off. The sight of his smooth, tanned, muscular back made me feel wet. I had to grab the door handle to stay on my feet. My eyes lingered on the simple black tribal tattoos that decorated his back and the scars from countless fights.
As he walked away from me, I knew right then that I wasn’t going to be able to able to keep it together long.
Chapter Seven
Living with Ryan was hell because I was constantly battling these conflicting feelings. I was so damn attracted to him, but I was also mad at him for abandoning me when I needed him most. The worst part about it was that he didn’t even seem to notice. He just walked around, acting like he didn’t do anything wrong and maybe in his mind, he hadn’t. It was infuriating.
I knew he thought I was crazy. There were days where I'd just stare at him, watching him go about his business. He would catch me and give me a strange look, but I never addressed it. I would just put my head down and go back to my book. It was driving him crazy.The fact that I couldn't talk to Chloe or my brother only made things worse. Our brief phone calls on a local payphone wasn’t enough. I had to be vague about what was going on and where I was in case the phones were tapped.
So far they'd had no luck tracking down Uroboros. They were staying well-hidden I could hear the frustration in my brother's voice every time he talked about it. He felt like he was letting me down and I tried to reassure him that I was enjoying my vacation, but he knew it was a lie. I loved our community. It was the only thing I knew. I'd grown up a biker and I wanted to live my life as a biker.
Ryan wasn't making things any easier. Since he was as dense as concrete, he had a habit of walking around half dressed. This put me on edge, though I tried to ignore it. He was a fan of going out to the jacuzzi and settling in for a nice long soak. It was clear that he intended to enjoy himself while he was here.
He'd tried to talk to me a few times in the month that we'd been banished to this cabin, but I made it clear that I wanted nothing do to with him. When he asked me questions I gave short, curt answers. It annoyed the hell out of him and I loved it. It made me feel powerful.
Maybe it was a bitchy thing to do and maybe I should have let go of everything, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd had so many hopes for us and so many feelings for him, and I felt like he had just thrown that on the ground and stomped it with his boot. I felt like he didn't give a shit about me and I had felt invisible for so long.
Winter was just around the corner and Gatlinburg was a big ski destination. The only times I'd been up here were to ski. Dad had always been a big fan of it and taught us at a fairly early age. If I was going to be stuck in this cabin with Ryan, I was at least going to enjoy my time here.
Ryan emerged from the kitchen in nothing but Pajama pants and I somehow managed to ignore his smooth tattooed torso. God I loved a man with ink. I was slipping into my snow boots and I didn't even look up when he addressed me.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.
The arrogance in his voice pissed me off so bad. I grit my teeth to try and stay somewhat calm. "I'm going skiing."
"You didn't run that by me."
God. Fuck this guy. I stood up and stared him straight in the eye, ignoring the fact that he was a good half foot taller than me, probably more. My eyes were wild with rage but he didn’t back down.
“I don’t need your permission. You aren’t my daddy,” I spat.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I might not be your daddy, but your brother put you in my care and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. If you’re going skiing, then so am I.”
I clenched my fists at my side and glared at him, my breaths coming in heavy, angry heaves. “Bullshit. You aren’t coming anywhere with me!” I snapped, grabbing the car keys and walking toward the door. He didn’t even have a shirt on yet. I knew I could get out of the house before he got dressed.
He grabbed me and yanked me away from the door. “Why are you always acting like such a brat?” he grunted. “I’m trying to keep you safe! Why are you fighting me so hard?”
“Because I don’t need you to keep me safe!” I snapped, trying to swing at him. “I can take care of myself!”
He set me down and gripped my shoulders, giving me a good shake. “Will you shut up for a second? Listen! Getting someone else’s help doesn’t mean you’re weak and it doesn’t mean you can’t take care of yourself, but some things in this world just aren’t meant to be taken on by a single person! Don’t you understand that?”
Tears were threatening to spill. This was the most he’d acted like he cared about me since we were kids and it was breaking my heart. I had to get out of there. I reacted on instinct. I pulled my arm back and I knocked him square in the jaw. I didn’t hit him hard enough to do any lasting damage, but it was enough to startle him. He stumbled back and fell on his ass, eyes wide.
Before he could get up, I snatched the keys off the hard wood floor and ran for the car. My heart was pounding in my chest and I slammed on the gas, spinning out of the driveway. My eyes were wide and I felt panicked. I wasn’t panicked about the bikers after my life. I wasn’t panicked about being away from my family.
I was panicked over how damn close I’d come to kissing that bastard.
Chapter Eight
I didn’t know where to go so I just went to the only place that mad
e sense. Our cabin sat on the slope of a mountain and that mountain was right on the edge of the touristy area of Gatlinburg. We were closer to where all the locals lived. This meant there was a small dive bar within a short drive; it was probably only three miles or so from the cabin.
I pulled into a parking spot and grabbed the keys, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t even grabbed a jacket. At the time it hadn’t seemed important. I was just trying to get away from Ryan so I could deal with everything at my own pace. I couldn’t be that close to him anymore or I was going to make a horrible mistake.
As I opened the creaking door to the bar a few heads turned to look at me. A few of the men leered, but when I pulled my shirt up enough to reveal the .45 Glock I was carrying, they averted their eyes and went back to drinking.
I settled at the bar and ran my fingers through my midnight hair, waving the bartender over. The busty woman took my order and handed me the whiskey without saying anything. She knew the look on my face. I had the look of a woman who was running from something, and that’s exactly what I was.
The music playing in the bar was some sad, twangy bluegrass song about lost love. It was so appropriate that it made my heart ache. Tears filled my eyes as I looked down into the whiskey, one solitary tear falling into the glass.
I pushed the glass aside for a moment and put my head in my hands, taking a deep shuddering breath as I tried to pull myself together. What was happening to me? I never would have guessed I’d find myself in a bar crying over a man I lost a long time ago. The worst part was that he was never mine to begin with. I cradled my whiskey, squeezing the glass until my hand started to shake. What was I going to do now? I how could I go back to that cabin?
“Bartender. Whiskey on the rocks, please? Thanks doll.”
A familiar voice echoed in the bar and I stiffened, not looking up. I didn’t need to look up. I knew it was Ryan. I knew his voice. It was velvety and smooth, look a good whiskey. A warm coat was draped around my shoulders and I finally lifted my head enough to look at him. He was wearing his own coat but had brought mine and put it around my shoulders.
He glanced down at me and tipped his whiskey my way. “Did want you to freeze to death. I didn’t think that would look too good on my record.”
I nodded silently and looked into my glass, taking a long drink. The whiskey burned going down but it felt so good. It made me feel alive.
“We got to talk, Kisha.”
God I loved it when he said my name. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Don’t be sly,” he murmured, that soft southern drawl coming through. I knew he tried not to talk with it and it was a damn shame. “There is something eating you up and it’s really starting to affect you. I know it has something to do with me, so we might as well nip it in the bud.”
“I need more whiskey first,” I murmured.
He obliged me and four glasses later I was ready to talk. I was feeling dizzy but plenty lucid and I felt free. I felt like I could talk about things without breaking down.
“So you want to talk?” I asked. “First you need to answer one question.”
He cocked a brow but shrugged. “Sure. What do you want to know?”
“Why did you abandon me?” I whispered, staring at him, my eyes wide.
“Abandon you? What are you talking about?”
“My dad died and you just stopped talking to me!” I choked out, my voice weak and thready.
He stared at me, clearly surprised to be hearing this. “You were so distant, I was trying to give you your space but then you never talked to me again. I thought you were mad at me or something.”
“I was mad at you!”
“I’m not a mind reader, Kisha! How was I supposed to know you wanted me to help you? You never asked for help! You never reached out! You never do!” he said, clearly frustrated.
My eyes widened at the sudden realization. He was right. I was always so insistent on doing things for myself. I saw asking for help as a sign of weakness. I stared into my whiskey. Tears were coming now and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop them.
“I missed you,” I whispered. “I missed you so much. I thought that we were going to be together forever and then dad died and you-- I felt like you left me,” I whispered. “I became so fucking jaded and I wasted so much time being so angry.”
He glanced over at me and sighed, gently putting an arm around me. “I probably could have tried harder, but I was a kid, you know?” he said gently.
I nodded slowly, looking up at him. “I was just a kid too.”
He nodded and held me close. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that. I’m sorry you felt like you were alone. I really am. I wish I could change things but I can’t. All I can do is be here for you now and promise I’m going to try and make up for all that lost time,” he whispered, pulling away and looking down at me.
He was so warm and I wanted so badly to be close to him. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I felt safe. I felt better. It felt like all those wasted years of being angry were just being washed away. I wasn’t angry anymore. I wanted him.
“Take me back to the cabin?” I whispered, my fingers curling in his shirt.
Chapter Nine
He was more than happy to oblige me. He took me back to the cabin and pulled me close, tangling his fingers in my hair. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or if I was really falling for him, but my heart was fluttering wildly in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to be close to him.
“Ryan,” I whispered, my voice weak and thready. He’d broken me down in the best way. “I want you.”
“You already have me, darling,” he whispered, kissing me slowly. “It’s just now I can feel it okay to do this…”.
He pressed his lips to mine again, gentle at first. The kiss deepened soon enough and I wrapped my arms around him, tangling my fingers in his beautiful hair, moaning and arching my back. He was perfect and I wanted him in every way imaginable. I’d been waiting so long for this. I needed him naked. I needed to be naked. I wanted to be flush against his warm body. I chewed on my bottom lip, moaning softly and pleading with him silently to strip me. If I had to wait much longer it was going to drive me crazy.
Soon we’d both been stripped naked, our skin flushed and hot, glistening with a sheen of sweat from our intense desire. I gasped softly as his fingers brushed over my taut nipples and my body reacted eagerly, moving with and leaning into every touch with a desperation that spoke volumes of what I wanted and what I needed. As he touched me and explored my body, I started panting and moaning softly, raking my nails across his back, leaving angry little welts behind that only marked him as mine.
Every touch felt amazing. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I’d been so desperate for him for so long. I gasped softly and whimpered, my eyes fluttering as my hips arched and came back down. He was already leaning over me, threading his fingers through my hair, catching my lips again in an eager and hungry kiss.
He teased my overly sensitive breasts some more, nipping at the tender underside of the supple skin, making me gasp and squirm. I could feel the heat of his manhood pressed against the inside of my thigh. Each time he moved it brushed against the tender flesh, making him growl in my ear. It made me feel like I was his. It made me feel like he was going to claim me.
I was panting and moaning desperately, my fingers tangling in his hair for a moment. “Hold on,” he whispered.
He stopped moving for a moment and looked me up and down. He smirked after a moment and started kissing down my body, leaving a trail of fire behind the wet kisses. My breath hitched and my eyes widened as I looked down at him. What was he doing? It had been so fucking long since I’d had a man pay attention to me like this. I was desperate for whatever he had to offer.
He was making his way further south, kissing the insides of my thighs for a moment before he dove right in. To say he wasted no time would have been a gross understatement. He buried his nose between my legs,
making me moan, my fingers curling in his thick hair, pulling at the locks desperately. This was incredible, but I hadn’t expected it.
His warm, skilled tongue traced shapes along my most delicate areas. The sounds of him sucking and lapping at my womanhood were some of the most erotic I’d ever heard. I gasped and arched up against him, whimpering and moaning as he worked, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. It had been so long since someone had touched me like this. I whimpered and shook underneath him, my fingers curling in the bed sheets.
He smirked and licked his lips, leaning up to kiss me eagerly. I could taste myself on his lips and I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the taste of myself on him. It was enough to get me right to the edge. I wanted him desperately.
Ryan chuckled and stroked my cheek, running his fingers through my hair. “You want more?”
I nodded and he gave me a little push, moving me so that I was on my hands and knees. I moaned and lifted my hips into the air, silently begging him for what I knew was coming. This wasn’t my first rodeo and I was more than a little desperate for the pleasure I knew was so close
“Please?”
He was just as eager to give into these urges and leaned over me, pressing his manhood into me deeper than I ever thought was possible. It felt amazing and I fell forward, wrapping my arms around a pillow and moaning into the fabric as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward into mine. The feeling was so deep and so achingly perfect that I could have sobbed with pleasure. Somehow, though, I managed to keep myself together
A familiar warm, liquid pleasure was starting fill me again and I knew that I was going to finish soon. There was no way I could hold back. Not when he fit against me so perfectly. He leaned over me, using the leverage to push me closer and closer to the edge. I loved feeling him inside me and it still shocked me just how perfectly he fit against me. I’d imagined this so many times before, but in all those fantasies, it never felt this fucking good.
