The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen

by Debra Kayn

  She had no idea if he'd show up or if he'd decide to keep riding and stay away.

  The nine days he'd stayed in Moses Lake and hung around the pool hall, upturning her life, had made all her insecurities come to the surface.

  She wanted to believe him when he explained that it was never his intention to leave her permanently, but she'd also believed her mother every time she left the house, promising to return.

  Looking around the clean room, she sighed. Maybe it wasn't smart to move back here to the place that held all her memories of the time when she was left on her own.

  She swallowed, knowing that wasn't true. There was one good memory, and that was when Dutch stole her.

  He'd changed the course of her life.

  She couldn't imagine not having him by her side, loving her.

  But, she'd put him through hell since he returned to her. Testing his every word, paying him back for all the pain he'd caused her. Denying him when all she wanted was to be with him.

  Every day was like a teeter-totter. Her trust went up and down daily, sometimes multiple times a day.

  A low rumble filtered through the open window. She hurried to the sink, looking outside while she washed her hands.

  She was around bikers and motorcycles every day, but she knew who was coming before Dutch rode into sight.

  Lightheaded and weakened, she held on to the counter. He'd returned to her.

  That small inkling of doubt she subconsciously held on to disappeared. Dutch hadn't left her.

  Dutch turned around in the yard and backed the bike up against the front of the house by the door. She walked slowly, trying to calm her racing heart.

  Opening the door, she stepped outside. Dutch lifted his head and got off his Harley. Road-weary and windblown, he never looked better.

  He wore his hair longer now than before prison and had kept his beard untrimmed. Her stomach fluttered. She liked the hardness, knowing the man underneath was a gentle bear who had consoled her from the time she was ten years old.

  He grabbed his duffle off the back of his seat and walked toward her. His gaze traveled up her body before his head dipped, and he locked in on her feet.

  She hadn't taken time to put on any shoes.

  He stopped before he reached her. "You're wearing my bracelet on your ankle."

  She circled her fingers around her wrist. "It still doesn't fit me."

  "I like it where it's at." His gaze softened. "You're a pretty sight after a long ride, Marla Marie."

  "Do you want to come in?"

  "If I do, I'm staying."

  She swallowed hard. "Forever?"

  "I always told you I wasn't leaving."

  He'd made good on his promises. He'd returned to her, and she was willing to start over. This time with them both being adults.

  She stepped back, pushing the door open. He walked toward her, slipped inside, and dropped his bag.

  She had a simple casserole cooking in the oven in hopes of him arriving. Dinner together would give them a chance to sit down and talk. She could tell him what she was thinking and apologize for how she'd treated him since he came to Moses Lake.

  Instead, she walked to him and put her arms around his waist, and breathed life back in her body.

  He tilted her head and leaned down, kissing her deeply.

  Flush against him, the open road, clinging to his clothes, his hair, his beard, filled her nostrils, intoxicating her.

  "Missed this." His hand slid to her ass, palming her.

  She inhaled a ragged breath. Her whole body quivered with him touching her.

  "You're really staying?" She wasn't thinking straight.

  He'd already told her. She needed to believe in him.

  "Until I have to go back on the road, but I will always return to you." His head tilted.

  She pushed up on her toes. God, she missed him.

  He took her mouth, pressing his knee between her thighs. She clamped down on him.

  A groan tumbled from his lips. She pushed her breasts against him, rubbing and craving the friction.

  Dutch picked her up by the ass, setting her on his thigh while trailing kisses from her mouth to her neck, drawing circles with his tongue against her skin. Her pulse pounded, centering between her legs.

  She held on to his shoulders, digging her nails into his leather vest. He could take her from kiss to orgasm so quickly.

  Her head went back, giving him more access to her neck. She rode his thigh, feeling the heat coming off him.

  He pulled his mouth off her, squeezing her ass, moving her back and forth against his leg. "Your pussy is wet for me."

  "Because I want you." She brushed back his hair. "I'm tired of touching myself while thinking about you. I want you. All of you."

  He carried her to the bedroom. Her pussy spasmed at the loss of pressure from his body. She worked on getting her shorts and panties off as soon as her feet touched the ground. Once she was free, she pulled her tank over her head, having gone braless.

  Then, she helped him with his belt, sneaking chances to rub the front of his jeans. His cock bulged the material clear down to his thigh.

  He chuckled. "Are you playing or working on getting my jeans off me?"

  "Both." She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, going back to his buckle.

  He pushed her hands away and deftly undid the front of his Levi's, shoving them down to the top of his thighs. "Let me have you, and then you can play with me anytime you want."

  A shiver went down her spine. To have him with her and be able to feed the cravings she got around him excited her.

  She moved to kneel on the floor and help him untie his boots, and he dragged her to her toes and kissed her. "Leave them."

  He put her on the bed. Having him loom over her, big and broad, brought her comfort.

  Her nipples peaked. Dutch's gaze caught her reaction, and he lowered himself, taking her breast in his mouth.

  Settled on the bed, she cradled his head, running her fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of having him back had her touching him all over.

  His beard caressed her chest to her lower abdomen. She lolled her head back and forth in pleasure. The warm sensation coating her.

  He moved to her other nipple, sucking, lapping, nipping until the small bud pulsed heavily. She squeezed her knees closed at the pull of pleasure he created in her.

  It wouldn't take long, and she'd orgasm.

  Dutch put his knee between her legs, opening her up, and pressed his thigh down against her pussy. She latched onto him, humping his leg shamelessly.

  The way she felt. The way her body acted. The way she craved him. Nothing mattered. She could do what she wanted. What her body wanted.

  Having Dutch here with her, knowing he planned to stay, she wanted to rub her pussy all over his body. She thought of a million things she could try, what she'd fantasized about, and even things that scared her but titillated her just the same.

  Dutch would never judge her. What she couldn't dream up herself, he'd teach her.

  He lifted his head from her breast and gazed down her body. "Hungry little pussy."

  She reached down and fisted his cock. There was nothing little about him. She'd taken all of him the last time they were together, and she'd been amazed there was no pain involved, only extreme pleasure.

  A drip came out of the tip of his cock. She used her fingers to smear the pre-cum around the head. Her hips pumped off the bed, sliding her wetness onto his jeans.

  Dutch slid his hand between his thigh and her body, slipping a finger inside of her, and found her clit with his thumb.

  "Jesus," he mumbled, staring at where his finger disappeared inside of her.

  His cock filled her palm, hot and hard, pulsing with the same level of pleasure radiating through her body.

  "I want your cock in me." She panted.

  He removed his hand and shifted until he was between her legs. She lifted her feet, hooking her ankles around his hips.
/>   "Ready?" Dutch hovered on top of her.

  She nodded, spreading her fingers over his shoulders.

  He pressed the head of his cock against her opening. Instead of tensing, she moaned. He slowly slid inside her, stealing her breath. His size more than filled her, stretching every inch of her pussy.

  "We're made for each other." Her heart raced.

  His cock pulsed. Her neck arched in pleasure. There was something in there that was a hot button for her. It was as if he'd touched her clit. A jolt of ecstasy exploded like a micro-orgasm.

  "I could stay right here, watching you with my cock inside of you, every minute of the day." He kissed her lips.

  She trailed her fingers over his chest and grabbed onto his hips, keeping him tight against her. "Do you like it?"

  His gaze softened. "More than my Harley."

  Amusement tickled her arousal. "You say that now," she teased.

  "I'll say it every God damn second, Marla Marie."

  He slowly withdrew and thrust back in. She groaned as he pumped, moving them both atop the bed.

  Her inner thighs quivered at the caress. Back and forth.

  Dutch plunged into her and ground against her clit. She sucked in a breath at the added friction. Liking it, she met him halfway, working with his body until she discovered exactly how to move.

  His movements sped up. Her adrenaline shot through the roof. Gyrating underneath him, she raised her head off the bed and licked his nipple. The tiny nub fascinating her.

  She tried to suck on him like he'd done to her, but she kept losing the nipple from her lips as he pounded into her.

  Gasping, she gave up and arched into him. He lowered his body, brushing the hair on his chest against her breasts.

  Her ass clenched, and she held on to his arms. "It's happening."

  "Give it to me." He pushed up onto his hands, giving her more of him.

  She scooted along the bed as he pounded into her. Unable to stop, she orgasmed, reaching for him and coming away with a handful of his hair.

  He slammed into her, stilled, and groaned like a warrior who'd won the battle.

  Trying to gain her second breath, she pulled him down on top of her. He rolled with her, cradling her to his chest. She closed her eyes, feeling his heart race against her cheek.

  Several minutes passed, and she inhaled deeply, completely satisfied. "If you're going to live with me, can we do this all the time?"

  His chest rumbled. "What do you think?"

  She smiled, knowing his answer.

  "How long do you have until you have to hit the road?" she asked, already dreading him leaving.

  "Twenty-one days."

  Never had he given that many days to her, back-to-back. She tilted her head and looked at him. "Thank you for coming back to me."

  He kissed her upturned lips. "Always told you I would."

  His cock slipped out of her. She groaned, already missing having him inside of her.

  He brushed her hair off her face. "Don't move. I'll get you a towel."

  "Okay." She kissed him again.

  He left the bed. She stayed stretched out, knowing she'd make a mess if she stood up and their combined pleasure slipped out of her. It dawned on her that he'd never offered to use a condom any time they were together.

  Dutch returned to the bedroom. She opened her legs, letting him clean her.

  "Why don't you ever use a condom?" she asked.

  He glanced at her. "You're on the pill."

  "How do you know that?"

  He tossed the towel to the floor and crawled back up in bed with her, pulling her back against him. "Because I had Rachel take you to the doctor and get you on the pill when you were sixteen."

  She lifted her head. "You did?"

  "I knew if you ever tried to rub up against me again, I wouldn't be able to stop from doing more."

  "We missed having the next time because you were arrested and went to prison," she whispered.

  He kissed her softly. "We'll make the time up."

  She warmed, cuddling against his chest. Knowing he wanted her clear back then as much as she'd wanted him thrilled her.

  Chapter 30

  NO ONE HAD ANY DOUBTS Marla Marie belonged to Dutch tonight. He stroked his finger against the jeans covering her pussy. With his back to the corner of the pool hall and Marla Marie straddling his lap, nobody could see what his hands were doing.

  But they knew.

  Marla Marie was a sexual woman who'd gained her freedom. She craved constant attention from him. The second he told her they could touch each other whenever they wanted, she'd taken that as permission to push him until he lost control.

  She raised her head, taking her mouth off his neck. Rubbing the spot she'd sucked on with her fingers, she grinned.

  "You have a huge hickey on your neck." She rubbed her lips together, caught up in the pleasure she got from him, rubbing her. "You're officially mine."

  "That happened a long time ago." He inhaled deeply. "I'm going to have to get up."

  "Why?"

  He took her hand and put it on the front of his jeans. "There's no more room in there."

  She arched an eyebrow. "Maybe I want to keep you that way all night."

  "Then, you'll pay when I get you home."

  She lowered her eyelids and shrugged, failing to hide her grin. The little minx was probably going to give him a heart attack. She'd skipped the years of exploring her sexuality because he was sitting in prison. Apparently, she wanted to gain that time back now.

  "Order us up something to eat while I walk out back and have a cigarette." He kissed her and scooped her off his lap, setting her on her feet.

  He walked off, clenching his teeth in uncomfortable pleasure. The fresh air would do him good if he was going to last.

  Outside, he joined Buck and Falcon, glad for the darkness. Lighting a smoke, he lifted his chin to the others.

  "You've got your hands full." Buck lifted his beer bottle. "I haven't seen Marla that happy before."

  "She might kill me, but I'll die with a fucking smile on my face." And, that was the dream for every man in the club.

  Falcon leaned against the end of the picnic table. "What are you going to do about the patch you're wearing?"

  He still belonged to the Bellevue Chapter. Now that he was living in Moses Lake, he had to decide if he would ask for a transfer. Since he was keeping his job, running communications between the three chapters, he would continue to answer to Woody. He wasn't sure how Falcon felt about his loyalty to the other president, even though both clubs were governed by the mother club.

  "I've been on the road and haven't had enough time to decide," he said.

  "Why don't you sit in on the meeting tomorrow at three o'clock." Falcon paused. "We're having general business before the officers sit down privately. You can get a feel for the members."

  "Yeah, I might do that. Thanks."

  "Well, whenever you want to discuss your options, let me know." Falcon pushed off the table, slapped both men on the shoulder, and went inside.

  Buck held out a joint. Dutch took a hit and passed it back. "Good shit."

  "Yeah." Buck stretched his arms. "I heard you're related to Skull."

  "Brother-in-law."

  "No, shit?" Buck chuckled. "I know your sister."

  He knew where the conversation was headed. Many of the men had no problems switching ladies for the night. At one time, he had no problem seeking pleasure from anyone who offered, but that was then. "Touch Marla Marie, and you're dead."

  Buck's amusement faded. "Keep her happy, man."

  His MC brother slapped Dutch's arm and went back inside. He finished the cigarette he'd started.

  Peering across the darkness, knowing a field and the highway separated him from the house, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since Marla Marie ran away from him, and he'd tracked her down.

  He still questioned if he was doing the right thing by her.

  He'd given her time
to learn on her own what she wanted in life, and she'd stayed loyal to him—something he hadn't expected but would admit he knew she would do all along. That's why he'd given her freedom.

  It would've killed him if he'd lost her.

  Tossing his cigarette to the ground, he stubbed the coal out with his boot and went inside. He found Marla Marie behind the counter, talking with Mike, who sat on a barstool.

  He took the seat beside his MC brother.

  "We were just talking about you." Marla Marie retrieved a plate with a hamburger and fries and set the food down in front of him. "I told him the very first time we met, you served me this very same thing."

  Every detail of their past was fresh in his mind. He picked up the burger. "Where's your food?"

  She held up a cup with a straw. "I eat burgers all the time, so I got a milkshake."

  "They should pay you for working tonight," said Mike.

  "I only fetched our food." She laughed. "Dutch doesn't even have to tip me."

  "You'll get your tip tonight." He cocked his brow.

  Mike chuckled and got off the stool. "I'll let you folks eat. I need to see if I can kick someone's ass in pool."

  "I'd see if Jeffrey wants to play you." She stole a fry off Dutch's plate. "Just sayin'."

  Once Mike walked away, she whispered, "Jeffrey sucks at pool. I even beat him."

  He eyed her dipping her fry in the chocolate milkshake, and shook his head. That was the craziest thing he'd ever seen. But at least she was eating.

  "We've never played pool together." She dipped another fry, coating it with ice cream. "Do you want to play a game when we finish?"

  "No." He stretched over the counter and kissed the dot of ice cream off her lip. "I plan on taking you home and getting you all worked up the way you've done me tonight."

  She giggled, picking up the milkshake and smiling with the straw in her mouth. "Oh, sounds fun."

  Little flirt. He finished his meal in record time.

  Looping his arm around her shoulders, he walked her out to his Harley. He handed her the helmet.

  She latched the strap through the D-ring. "Is it weird having me on the back of your motorcycle?"