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Heaven Sent

Page 17

by Avelyn Paige

“Put this on,” I order her as I slide over the seat of my Harley and turn the key. Revving the engine up, I check to make sure Raze’s bike is still here, but I find it absent. It’s not like him to leave without telling me, but I’d have known if he were being arrested for killing a motherfucker by now. I make a mental note to call him in the morning to check on how things shook down after I went to find Dani.

  “Put your arms around my waist, Dani. Try not to fall off before I can talk to you, will ya?”

  “I’m only on this fucking thing because I’m ready to go home. Just try not to kill us!” she yells over the rumbling engine.

  Popping the kick stand, I ride away from the club and head for my house. She’ll try to run if I take her back to the clubhouse, so my civilian home is the best chance I have for actually getting her to talk to me. Her tits press against my back as we ride into town and feeling them against my back makes me shiver in anticipation. Dirty thoughts of just what I could do with her perfect tits flood through my mind. Visualizing my dick rubbing between them as my cum coats her chest sends shockwaves through my body. The forward lurch of the bike at a stop light makes her pussy rub against the seat and me. I wonder if the vibrations of the bike are making her wet. God, I hope so because if she and I can have an actual adult conversation for once, I’m hoping the night ends with that tiny little dress wadded up on my floor and her mouth wrapped around my aching cock. If I don’t get off soon, my balls will likely shrivel up and die of misuse.

  Pulling onto the cement drive of my house, I kill the engine. I pop the kick stand back down and lean the bike against it, swinging my legs over. I help her take off her helmet and scoop her into my arms off the bike. I’m not about to go flashing the world the pussy I’m hoping to be buried to the hilt in tonight. Though, I am sure my perverted neighbors would fucking like that... If this house wasn’t completely paid off, I’d have already moved from this neighborhood. It’s not exactly the best area to live in anymore, but no one would dare fuck with my house. They all know what lies behind the door. I return my focus to carrying her to the door over my shoulder. I can feel her head move while she takes in the house so I know she’s confused, but even bikers have a real house. We all need our space to think and figure shit out from time to time. I may prefer my room at the clubhouse now that she occupies it with me, but I like my solitude at times. Half the guys don’t even know where my house is, and I’m going to keep it that way. Punching in the security code with my free hand, I open the door and walk her straight to the couch.

  Depositing her there, I walk into the kitchen and bring her a glass of ice water and two aspirin. She’ll have a monster hangover in the morning if she doesn’t take care of shit now. Handing her the glass and the tablets, I walk back to the front door to secure it. When I return to the living room, she’s stretched out on the couch. Seeing her in my house and laid out like that sends an electrical shock down to my dick. Easy, Hero. Let’s not scare her off already. I have to keep it in my pants long enough to get this discussion out of the way. Play time can start later.

  Sitting on the unoccupied end of the couch, I pull her up to a sitting position. I can’t fucking talk to her if she’s presenting herself like a prized Thanksgiving turkey on a platter. My brain won’t function long enough to accomplish what I need done knowing her short skit won’t conceal anything from me.

  “Is this your house or did you break in someone’s vacation villa?” she asks.

  “It’s mine, Dani,” I reply, waiting for her smart mouth to strike again.

  “So this is what biker money can buy these days? What does Raze have? A McMansion?”

  “The club didn’t buy me this fucking house, Dani, if that’s what you think. I had it long before I ever prospected for Heaven’s Rejects.”

  “I see,” she says. “Are you a drug dealer?” she asks.

  “You have to be joking with me, right? Just because I am a fucking biker that has a decent house, you automatically think it was purchased with blood and drug money?” I rant.

  “I just—,” she stammers. “I didn’t mean to be a bitch. It’s just that I never see you work. You are always at the clubhouse in your little VP chair pretending to be all high and mighty.”

  “Had you asked and not just fucking assumed that this cut means I’m an outlaw, I would have told you I receive retirement pay from the Army, and my family left me a trust fund. And yes, I do fucking work. I keep our club running and I manage all of our businesses, including two bike shops and our protection service company. Does that satisfy your curiosity about how the dirty biker has nice things, or would you like to see the deed or hell, my tax return?” I angrily tear into her.

  Her accusation that I thieved to buy this home is a hot button issue for me. Sure, I run with some pretty nefarious and dangerous people, but it doesn’t mean I don’t walk the straight and narrow outside the club. I have money, and it’s managed wisely. I worked hard for the shitty retirement from the Army, just like my father worked hard for every cent that I inherited. This isn’t a world where free rides and loads of cash come easy anymore. You have to work your ass off and sacrifice everything to make it ahead in this world.

  “I’m sorry,” she quietly responds. Fuck, I’ve sent her back into the scared-little-girl mode again. I need to run damage control if tonight will work out the way I want.

  “No, I’m sorry. Biker stereotyping like that just pisses me off. We aren’t all like the 1%ers. Sure, we’ve got a trail of blood behind us, but our reasons for killing are justified. We toe the line of the law, and that’s how it’s going to stay. I don’t need some civilian trying to make me feel like a dick for having cash that was earned the old fashion way - with my blood, sweat, and fucking life on the line.”

  Dani crosses her arms as anger sets in further. Just great, my goddamn mouth goes and makes it worse yet again. I need a stop-being-an-asshole implant chip to shock my ass every time I do shit like this. Not everyone warrants that kind of behavior from me, and definitely not Dani. At least not now anyway.

  “Would you care to tell me why the hell I’m here in your non-drug trafficking purchased home?”

  “I told you why you are here, we need to talk.”

  “What exactly do we need to talk about? I assumed I was crystal clear that I don’t want anything to do with you. Thanks for saving me and all, but I’d like to pass on whatever else you have planned tonight.”

  Oh no, angel. You aren’t going to brush me off that easily. I know your tricks too well now. Deflection and distraction are not going to work in your favor tonight.

  “That’s not how this is going to work, Dani. You and I need to clear the air about a few things.”

  “Like what?” she questions.

  “Like, for instance, what the hell your last name is? I want to get to know you better, Dani. What’s your story?”

  As soon as I lay down what I want to know, she freezes in place. What the fuck is in her past that she begins to panic at the slightest question about it? Does she have an abusive ex back home or hell, is she still married and on the run? Nothing about her clouded past has been easy to decipher. She’s hiding something from the club and from me, I just hope it isn’t skeletons in her closet that we can’t deal with.

  “You want to know my last name? What for? Need to know what you should write down in your little black book of conquests?”

  “Jesus, Dani. I just want to get to know you. Is that so bad? You’ve spent weeks in my club and now that you’re free and clear of suspicion, I want to do what I’ve been thinking about for weeks. I want to figure out what the fuck is going on in that head of yours.”

  She quietly stares at me for several minutes, sending me into panic that I might have lost her again, but she finally speaks. “Espinoza. My last name is Espinoza, okay?”

  Dani Espinoza. God, her name is beautiful, just like she is.

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Judging from your last name, are you Spanish?”

  “M
y dad was Latino, but my mom was Greek. I know, it’s a weird combination,” she says with a sigh.

  “No, that’s not weird. It explains your beautiful olive skin and dark features. I know you said you were from the Midwest, but I want to know where in the Midwest? Do you have any family back there?”

  Panic flashes again in her eyes. Why is it every time I mention her family or where she’s from, she starts to panic or goes silent? The only reason someone would have that reaction to such normal questions is if they are hiding something about their past. It makes me wonder what the fuck happened there and why does it make her nervous. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something she isn’t telling me.

  “I’m from Ohio, and no, I don’t have any family left. They’re all dead,” she answers coldly.

  “Dead? What do you mean dead? How old were you when they died?” I ask, hoping that I’ve haven’t crossed the point of no return.

  “My dad died when I was fourteen. He was killed in the line of duty during a routine domestic violence call for the local police department. He was a week from retirement when it happened,” she says, closing her eyes for a few silent minutes.

  “Jesus, Dani. I’m sorry. It sounds like he was one of the good guys, a true American hero. What about your mom? Is she still around?”

  “My mom died a few months ago.”

  “Shit, angel. I’m sorry to hear that. It seems like you are surrounding by tragedy and death. Did you have a happy childhood at least to remember them by?”

  “It was happy until Dad died. He and I were two peas in a pod. My first childhood memory was Dad taking me to the station and to the shooting range with his partner, Bob. Ironically enough, Mom married Bob when I turned sixteen. It never felt right that she had forsaken my dad’s memory with someone he trusted with his life. Don’t get me wrong, my step-dad was nice and all, but my life from that day forward went to hell in a hand basket until I bolted from Ohio. I ended up here and well, you know the rest. Bat shit crazy roommate goes missing, I end up homeless, and now I’m living in a clubhouse with bikers. Sounds like the basis for a reality TV show or a horrible made for TV movie. Can we stop talking about this, please?”

  Shit, I didn’t expect this kind of information about her... The way she talks about her dad is completely different from how she talks about her mom. She holds her father’s memory close while she shoves her mother’s quickly aside. Something had to have happened after she remarried, but I need to stow my prying into her past until another day. If I push her too hard, she’ll throw her walls up again. I can’t risk being shut out again when I’m so close to breaking into her heart.

  “Well, what do you want to talk about, Dani?” I ask, wanting to keep her talking.

  “Since you decided you needed my life’s story, tell me about yours. Any kids running around I should know about? I don’t even know your real name. Your parents didn’t name you Hero, did they?

  “Seriously? Do I look like the guy who’d be a good dad? Fuck no,” I reply. “My real name is Tyler Tobias. That stays between you and me. Do not even think about calling me anything but Hero at the club. In terms of family, my parents were both killed during an armed robbery at their bank just after I turned eighteen. My dad had gone in to cash out their savings account to put me through college when two guys came in and put a bullet between both of my parents’ eyes. The security footage showed my dad trying to push my mom behind him when the bastards shot him. He was just trying to protect her, and those bastards marked him as a threat.”

  “Shit, Hero. I didn’t mean to pry,” she cautiously says. I know she thinks talking about this shit will break me down like it does her, but I’ve told this story so many times, it’s like reciting the “Pledge of Allegiance”.

  “Ended up joining the Army a month later and landed my ass in Iraq just after 9/11. I did my duty there until a roadside bomb killed my entire unit and left me damaged.” I pull up the leg of my jeans to show her my scars. I’m sure she’s seen them before, but she’s never mentioned them. It’s easier just to get this part out of the way before she asks.

  “I took shrapnel to my knee and was sent home with a medical discharge and a shiny Medal of Honor. It took six surgeries to repair the damage to my knee before I could finally walk again.”

  Dani crawls over to me and wraps her arms around me. I know she thinks this is comforting to me, but it only feels like pity. No one knows how to respond to the wounded soldier part of my story.

  “How many did you lose in your unit?”

  “Twenty-one.” Pulling my shirt over my head, I turn to expose the tattoo on my back. A pair of metal dog tags lies on my left shoulder. Below it is a list of each of their names.

  “I may never get to see my men again, but they’ll always be with me,” I tell Dani as her fingers trace the tattoo. Her touch stills me.

  “What about your other tattoos? Do they mean anything?” she asks, her hands not leaving my back.

  “Most are just pieces of my past, I needed a way of remembering all the fucked up memories in my head. The cross on my sternum is the cross I bear for my brotherhood and for the things I’ve seen and done in my past. Of course, you know that the one on my stomach is for the club. It was supposed to be on my back, but I refused to let Raze cover up my brothers’ names. Took me two years to convince them to ink me somewhere else.”

  “I don’t understand how you ended up with these guys, Hero. You seem so normal compared to some of them. Why did you join the club? Was it just about the pussy to you or is there some deep meaning behind joining a club like Heaven’s Rejects?” She must really think I’m that shallow if she thinks that the girls were the determining factor to prospect.

  “I joined the MC because I needed an outlet for my past. I was a fucking train wreck when I got home. I met Jagger in a bar one night just before I started a bar fight. He made me realize that I needed some sort of order in my life. I was angry at the cards life dealt me, and had I not met Jagger, I would have spent my life behind bars. I joined at twenty-three and never looked back. It was the best decision of my life until I decided I wanted to dance with you at Red’s that night.”

  She doesn’t make a sound as I pull her into my lap. “You’ve changed me, Dani. You’re the tornado ripping apart my life and the clean-up crew that fixes everything. You’re the kind of angel that would even tempt the devil himself. You make me want to be a better man by just being in the same room with me.”

  “I feel the same way, Hero. You walked into Red’s and from the moment you touched me, all I have wanted is you. The pull I feel between us scares me. I’ve never been so excited or scared of wanting something this badly in my life until you. You are a complete stranger to me yet I want to give you everything. It’s hard for me to give in to what I want when I know that you could decide tomorrow I wasn’t worth your time. I can’t handle knowing that I could be returned to the toy box when you’re done with me.”

  Her admission sends my heart racing and my blood ferociously pumping through my veins. She feels the attraction and whatever the hell you could call this pull between us just as much as I do, but she’s fighting it. She needs to know that I want her to the point I’d kill for her. I can’t keep dancing around the idea that she’ll just fuck me and be gone the next morning. I need her with me or just fucking gone.

  “It scares me, too, angel. You’re the first woman to break down the walls around me. You did it without even saying a word to me, which makes this thing between us even more fucking crazy. When you left last night, I realized how much of an ass I’d been to you. You didn’t deserve my anger being redirected at you from Jagger’s death because it wasn’t you that put the knife in him.”

  “I shouldn’t have pushed your buttons like I did, but I wanted you so goddamn much that I didn’t know how to deal when you pushed me away and branded me a traitor. I wanted you to hurt because I was dying inside not being able to have what I desperately wanted.”

  Her words s
eize my chest. She wants me? She’s desired me all this time, and I was the reason she acted like I was the scum of the Earth underneath her shoes. I’ve wasted so much goddamn time trying to figure out club shit and where she fell into this life that I ignored the signs. I’m the biggest fucking idiot on the entire planet.

  “You want me?” I question.

  “I want you like I’ve wanted no one else before. It was torture to push you away last night, but you weren’t in the right frame of mind. I didn’t want to sleep with you and live to regret it when you shoved me away the next morning. I could see the emptiness in your eyes. ”

  “Shit, angel. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have dropped everything for you. Yes, I was hurting last night, but it wasn’t just from the past creeping back over me. I was in agony when I saw the hurt in your eyes. Even when the darkness in my soul takes hold, I never want you to think that there’s no room for you. I’ve never needed someone as much as I fucking need you in my life.”

  Her eyes fill with shock and lust as she realizes I’ve just opened myself up for her disposal.

  “Take me to bed, Hero.” I never thought this day would come. She stands up abruptly, pulling me up by the hand. Not wanting to waste any more time, I scoop her in my arms and carry her up the stairs to my bedroom. Clicking on the light as we pass, I lay her on the bed. She moves to sit on the edge of the bed and stares at me, waiting for me to make my move.

  “Are you sure about this, Dani? This is your last chance to leave because as soon as I sink my dick into you, you’re mine. No more running. No more hiding. You’re mine, or you’re gone. I couldn’t stand to see you at the clubhouse or on the arm of any of my brothers if you decided against giving us a try.”

  “Please, Hero. I need you. Make me feel happy again,” she pleas.

  “I need to know you’re sure, Dani. If we cross this line, there’s no going back. Things won’t go back to the way they were if you deny me again. If you want this, you’ll take me as I am. I can’t make you forever promises or romantic bullshit, but I can give you the best fucking sex of your life. What will it be, Dani? Filthy fucking sex with me or no relationship at all?”

 

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