The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen

by Debra Kayn

  "Sure thing." She scurried out of his way.

  Dutch stepped into her path. She lifted her chin. "Do you need a drink?"

  "Already got one." He held a beer in his hand. "I want you."

  "I'm not yours, Du—"

  He cupped the back of her neck and captured her mouth. It wasn't a soft, passionate kiss like last night. He was claiming her in front of the men. His roughness reminded her of the way he'd kissed her at the prison, right before he told her to get out of his life.

  She pushed against him, breaking the kiss. His smirk poured salt into her wounds. He knew damn well what he was doing, and after everything he'd put her through, he had no right.

  Turning, she grabbed the closest biker standing near her and raised up on her tiptoes, and kissed him as passionately. Taken by surprise, Mike only stood there with his mouth open.

  The clatter of balls clanking together ceased. She dropped back on her heels and strode toward the counter.

  As she passed Rubble, he said, "Girl, you shouldn't have done that."

  Turning toward her boss, she crossed her arms. "He can't kiss me whenever he wants. I don't belong to him."

  "If you say so." Rubble lifted his chin, motioning across the room.

  She looked back at Dutch and found him standing with Mike, his arm thrown around the other man's shoulders as if they were long-time friends. She wanted to smack him.

  Did he have no feelings? How could he stand there watching her kiss another man?

  Groaning, she turned her back to him and went and picked up the food waiting to be served. The longer she had to put up with Dutch being here, the angrier she became. By midnight, she was positive he was using her. He had no intention of getting back what they'd shared most of her life. He'd fucked her, and now he was good to go on. His curiosity or itch or claim was satisfied.

  The fact that she walked around with a constant flutter happening inside of her and her pussy wet thinking about him only made her angrier.

  So, when Dutch slapped her ass as she carried a pitcher of beer and four empty mugs on the tray to a few of the men, she set the beer on the closest table, turned around, and smacked him across the face.

  Fire lit his eyes at the violent contact. She backed up as he stalked forward. The bundle of emotions she held on to all night exploded.

  Dutch picked her up. She vibrated, reading his mind, knowing that look.

  He carried her down the hallway and out the backdoor. In the pitch blackness, he put her on top of the picnic table. She clung to him, kissing him deeply. Taking what she was too shocked to do last night.

  All the anger and confusion came out in desperation to touch him and reassure herself he was here.

  He unbuckled his belt while thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She reached down and undid the snap on her shorts. Frustrated at the material being in her way, she scooted off the table, pushing him back with the kiss.

  Dutch stood her up, pushing blindly at her shorts, trying to rid her of them. She moaned impatiently.

  Against her lips, he mumbled, "Kick them off."

  She lifted her foot, jerking out of the material, then managed to get her other leg free. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she raised her knee, trying to climb his body, seeking the hard heat pressed against her.

  He turned her around, bending her toward the picnic table, and rubbed his cock against the crack of her ass.

  She panted, her head falling back while goosebumps covered her flesh.

  Dutch licked a trail from her neck down to her shoulder.

  Her spine arched, pushing her hips back, grinding against his cock. He grabbed her hair, arching her more, and returned his lips to her ear. "I'm back. I'm not leaving. You don't fucking kiss other men."

  His teeth sank into her neck, and she moaned. "I'm not yours to boss around anymore."

  "Bullshit." He slid his cock deep inside of her.

  There was no mercy, no tenderness, only raw power, showing her that he wasn't playing around. The pain she'd expected, needed, wanted, wasn't there, only an extreme fullness. It felt different than last night.

  Almost as if she could feel him filling her clear up to her throat, making it impossible to argue.

  Clawing at the surface of the picnic table, she bucked against him, taking him deeper. Trying to inflict some kind of pain on him.

  She wanted to show him how much she hurt. How living with a piece of her heart gone was impossible. That she'd lived her life believing he would always love her.

  And during the hardest time of his life, he'd stopped.

  He'd left her.

  But she couldn't hurt him. He gave back as good as he got. He pounded into her, gripping her hip and pulling her hair, not letting her get away.

  "Do you feel me?" He thrust hard into her and withdrew before plunging deeply into her pussy. "All of me."

  She moaned with each movement, blind to the night. Pushed to the tips of her toes, her palms slid on the rough wood of the picnic table because of their height difference.

  She rocked back as hard as she could without much leverage to make it more substantial. "You. Can't. Hurt. Me. Anymore.

  "Damn you." He let go of her hair, put both hands on her hips, and bent his knees more, slamming her back against him. "Hurt me if you want."

  He grunted. She ground against him. Her pussy, now tender from the abuse, squeezed down in pleasure as if her body sided with Dutch.

  He fucked her, withdrawing and thrusting hard and cruelly. "You never stopped being mine."

  "You stole me." She gasped. "You gave me away."

  He rutted into her with short, fierce strokes.

  "You made me fall in..." She moaned. "Love with you. Promised never to leave me."

  "I didn't want to send you away." Buried fully inside of her, he curved his upper body over her back, wrapping his arms around her, imprisoning her so they both couldn't move apart. "You will always be mine, Marla Marie. Fuck me, I can't give you up. Ever."

  Her orgasm sucked him in harder. As if it was her one last desperate attempt at keeping him.

  Her legs weakened, and she hung from his arms. His heavy breathing tickled her neck. She closed her eyes, not feeling any better but sexually exhausted.

  "Don't push me away," he whispered against her ear.

  "You had five years in prison to tell me how you were feeling and why you'd made the decision to keep me away from you." She sniffed. "I've had almost two years believing I'd lost you. You didn't only hurt me, Dutch. You destroyed me."

  His cock slipped out of her. She pushed against him, needing to step away.

  Her heart couldn't heal with a few chosen words and having sex.

  Not even for Dutch.

  Chapter 28

  FALCON GAZED AT THE pool game playing out in front of him. Dutch sat across the table from the Moses Lake Chapter president, lifted his beer, and bided his time.

  Over the last week, he'd let Marla Marie have her space. He'd refrained from using his key to gain access to her when she locked the door. When she ran across the field after showing up at the pool hall on her day off and found him there, he'd let her run away.

  She was going through her rebellious stage.

  He wouldn't be surprised if she had a quarter ounce of pot in her purse and got drunk every night, shut up in the house alone. It was how she'd coped as a teenager when things weren't going her way.

  But things were different now. She was an adult.

  She could mope and cause all the hell she wanted. Nothing was going to change his mind. He was never going to let her go.

  What he'd said at the prison was to get her to live her life instead of stopping. Instead of going out and partying like other girls, leaving their teenage years behind, she'd stepped right into adulthood—becoming a homeowner, working a full-time job, and supporting herself.

  Falcon eyed him. "You look like hell."

  "I've been better." He finished his beer, turned his head, and yelled, "Marla M
arie."

  Thirty seconds later, she brought him another beer. He hooked her waist, bringing her down on her lap.

  She pushed against his chest. "I need to work."

  "Take a break." Falcon fought a grin, backing Dutch. "How are things going?"

  "Fine." She held herself stiff on his lap.

  Dutch rubbed her thigh, letting his fingers slide up the inside of her bare leg. He wouldn't be against taking her out back and letting her work off some of the hostility she held on to so tightly.

  "You missed a good time at the rally." Falcon lit a cigarette. "I talked to your mom and dad. They asked how you were doing."

  She whipped her gaze to Dutch. "Do they know you're here?"

  "Yeah."

  Her shoulders fell before she turned back to Falcon. "Maybe I'll go next year."

  "You will," muttered Dutch for her ears only.

  There was no reason for her to distance herself from the family. Next year, he planned to go to the rally, if for no other reason than he wanted to do something that he knew Marla Marie enjoyed.

  Seeing as he was the reason why she missed out on what she enjoyed doing over the last five years, he wanted to make it up to her.

  To start, he had a surprise for her that should arrive at any time.

  "The older I get, the more I hope I'm around in a year." Falcon tilted his head back and blew a stream of smoke up into the air.

  "You're not that old." Marla Marie tone softened. "Dutch is old."

  "Hey." He spanked her ass, making her jump on his lap.

  Secretly glad she was taking her shots at him. Things were moving right along the way they used to.

  She turned to him. "Who's older?"

  "Falcon." He brought her closer.

  She rolled her eyes. "I need to go back to work."

  "Give me a kiss."

  She scooted, and he brought her back. "Dutch, I'm working."

  "So." His hold on her softened. "Do you think Falcon is going to say I can't take you out back and slip my cock in you?"

  "He'll fire me."

  "He ain't going to fire you," he said.

  She pursed her lips and leaned in. He put his finger on her chin. "Open."

  Her mouth relaxed, and he took a kiss from her. His balls constricted at the way she took his bottom lip.

  The only girl...the only woman who'd done that to him before.

  She nipped him with her teeth and jumped off his lap, catching him off guard. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth and stared at the swing of her ass as she went to help Rubble.

  He'd like to take her feistiness outside and bite her back.

  "Damn, man." Falcon leaned back in his chair. "She's a whole other woman when you're here."

  He lit a cigarette and tongued his bottom lip for damage. "I'll be leaving soon."

  "Figured." Falcon lowered his voice. "I'll watch out for her."

  "'Preciate it." He looked the president in the eyes. "How secure is the club, right now?"

  "Security gets pumped up when Allman arrives." Falcon looked around the room. "To keep up appearances, we keep the pool hall open, but the men take shifts, keeping an eye on the bitches that spend time here. Our reputation keeps the riffraff out, most days."

  "It's the other days I worry about. Not being here, I don't want Marla Marie put in a dangerous situation."

  "She can handle herself."

  He looked over at her. It was a risk he wouldn't take. If something happened to him, he needed to know she was safe.

  "You've got nothing to worry about," said Falcon.

  He stood, needing some fresh air. "'Preciate it all the same if you watch out for her."

  Falcon dipped his chin, giving Dutch his word. That's all he could ask for without taking himself off the road and watching her every second of the day.

  He stepped around the table, headed for the back hallway, and Falcon called his name, stopping him. "Yeah?"

  "How old are you anyway?"

  He counted, having not kept track in years. For the last five years, the remaining days of his sentence were the only numbers he'd kept in his head.

  It was June. He grunted, never realizing his birthday and come and gone while in prison. Marla Marie hadn't been there to make a big deal out of it like she usually had.

  "Forty-two."

  "Motherfucker." Falcon laughed. "You've got three years on me."

  He walked away from the table, feeling his age. Before he made it halfway across the room, a familiar squeal reached him. He stiffened, turning around, keying in on Marla Marie.

  She jumped up and down, then rushed to the door. Dutch relaxed, enjoying the sight of Marla Marie's happiness over his surprise.

  Alyssa hugged her, both girls beaming and talking a mile a minute. He changed his mind about going outside and sat down near the back wall. That smile on Marla Marie's face put him in a better mood.

  His girl was happy.

  It hadn't taken him long to convince Alyssa over the phone that Marla Marie needed her and he'd pay for her gas if she came to visit.

  Standing behind the two girls, King threw up two fingers at him. He lifted his chin in thanks for helping bring Alyssa to Marla Marie.

  Satisfied that his woman's mood had shifted, he walked outside, leaving them to catch up. Behind the building, he walked around the picnic table. Being back in Moses Lake reminded him of the first time he caught sight of Marla Marie as a scrawny girl with wild, dirty hair, half-starved, and eating scraps like a stray dog.

  Now she was working at the pool hall, all grown up and beautiful.

  But it was taking longer than he'd hoped to erase the hurt he'd caused her.

  He was running out of time. He had to be on the road in three days.

  The back door of the pool hall burst open. Marla Marie and Alyssa, followed by King, spilled out.

  "Your boss, what's his name? Rubble? He seems nice." Alyssa reached for King and cuddled against his side.

  "It's been great working here. Everyone is laidback. We try and take our breaks when there's a lull."

  "There are some familiar faces hanging around tonight." Alyssa reached for Marla Marie. "Oh, I haven't had a chance to tell you about the rally. Guess who is pregnant?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Cheryl." Alyssa flapped her arm. "You know, the woman I told you was always hanging around Tony."

  "Is he going to settle down with this one?"

  Alyssa blew a raspberry. "I doubt it."

  Dutch stood outside their circle, taking in the lively talk. After walking out of prison, the only thing that had made him feel connected to his own club was his desire to get back to Marla Marie.

  Club members had gone on with their life, changed women, changed jobs. Guys his age were settling down. The younger men were proving their worth.

  All he had was the open road. And that road could take him to Marla Marie.

  "Hey." Alyssa motioned in Dutch's direction. "I didn't know you were out here. Come join us."

  Marla Marie turned and lost her smile at the sight of him. Fuck.

  He walked over to the picnic table, preferring that Marla Marie had her time with her friends without him ruining it by confusing her more. "How are you guys doing tonight?"

  "Perfect." Alyssa squeezed on King. "Thank you so much for asking us to come."

  "Not a problem." He sensed Marla Marie glance at him with a frown. He hadn't told her what he'd done.

  "So, we have some news." Alyssa grinned. "King and I found a house to rent. We're going to move in together."

  "That's great." Marla Marie hugged her friend. "I'm so happy for you. For both of you. Where is it?"

  "In Bellevue, about two blocks from my parents' house."

  As they talked about everything they'd need to get and the dates when they were moving, Dutch lit a cigarette, detached from the conversation. These were Marla Marie's friends.

  His home was the open road, and for the first time, he was reluctant to leave.
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  As Marla Marie talked, she slipped her fingers into his hand. He held on to her. She had no idea she'd fallen back on old habits, and he wasn't going to bring attention to her reaching for him.

  "Oh, I ran into Rachel at the clubhouse when I went to meet King before we headed over here." Alyssa dug in her pocket. "She mentioned you left this on the dresser when you moved out and wanted me to give it to you. She thought you might be missing it."

  Alyssa held out her hand. Marla Marie was handed the bracelet he'd given her years ago, and she always wore around her ankle until she started to go to visitations at the prison. They wouldn't allow her to wear jewelry, and he remembered her being upset about leaving it at home.

  Marla looked up at him. His gut tightened. She better not try and give it back.

  Realizing she still held his hand, she let go of him and put the bracelet in her pocket. "I hate to do this, but I need to go back to work. Are you guys riding back tonight, or do you want to come to the house and stay. There's a couch. I can give you a blanket."

  "Falcon's letting us crash upstairs. We're going to get out of here early and hopefully miss the traffic," said King.

  "Oh, okay." She walked toward the door. "I'll catch up more through the night when I can. I want to know everything that's going on with you."

  Alyssa followed her, taking King with her. He stayed outside.

  Happy that Marla Marie had her friends around her when she needed them, he exhaled slowly. There was a place for him in her life, but she'd need to see that for herself.

  The time crunch on his travels was winding down. He could only hope that she looked forward to him returning and wouldn't give up on him completely.

  The door reopened, and Marla Marie walked back to him. Standing in front of him, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. He cupped the back of her head and closed his eyes.

  This was his girl. The one who always understood what he was going through.

  There was no rushing her through accepting his love. She'd do it when she was ready.

  Part Six

  "Do you know how much I love you?"

  Chapter 29

  MARLA MARIE MOPPED the small kitchen in her house and set the broom by the back door in the bucket. All her nervous energy made it impossible to sit around. Dutch had promised to return in eight days, and it happened to be her day off.