Rock's Redemption: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 8)

by Chiah Wilder

  “These carrots are so sweet. Here, taste them.” She placed her finger on his lips and put the chunk of carrot in his mouth, her finger lingering inside. He closed his mouth and sucked it, a jolt of lust zapping his cock like lightning. “Good, huh?” She slid her finger out. “Did you guys get these at a farmer’s market? I’m positive they didn’t come from the grocery store.”

  I want to fuck you so bad, chérie. I don’t give a shit about the damn carrots. You’re the only thing I want to taste. “I don’t know where they came from.”

  She smiled at him and ran her hand lightly down his arm. “Us being together like this is nice, isn’t it? It makes me remember how good life can be.”

  His gaze followed her hand, wishing like hell it would go lower to palm his throbbing dick. Damn, she’s killing me. He lifted one shoulder. “I guess.”

  Her laugh surrounded him and slid down his body, landing on his pulsing shaft.

  “You done with the salad?” She nodded. “Let’s eat in the great room.” He carried out the food and she followed him, the salad bowl secure in her hands. He set everything down on the table and plopped on the chair. She joined him and ordered a glass of wine when Blade came over to give Rock a beer.

  She ate two sandwiches, and he loved looking at her as she took dainty bites. He used to love watching her eat because she did it so delicately. He’d forgotten about that until right then. He had to admit being with her was comfortable as hell. It soothed an ache in him he’d had since he’d left home, but he didn’t trust her. He couldn’t let himself be lured in by good memories.

  Be careful with this one. Don’t let her burn you again. Keep your distance. She’s keeping shit from you. Something’s not right. I can sense it.

  As he placed a forkful of salad in his mouth, he smelled Wendy’s fresh scent before she stood behind him and draped her arms around his neck. Leaning down close to him, she breathed in his ear, “You wanna have some fun later on?”

  He craned his neck to see her and noticed Clotille giving the club girl a hard look. A deep, satisfying feeling filled him when he realized she was jealous of Wendy. Rock grasped the club girl’s hands and said softly in her ear, “Not tonight. Another time.”

  Wendy’s eyes darted from Clotille back to Rock’s hands on hers. She pressed closer to him, her low-cut top displaying her breasts. “Who’s she?”

  “A friend from back home. We got shit to catch up on.”

  A slow smile spread over her face. “Oh. I got ya. When you’re done catching up, let me know.” She kissed his cheek and then ambled away, her hips swaying seductively in her short dress.

  Rock turned his attention back to his food, mindful of Clotille’s change in demeanor.

  “She certainly isn’t shy, is she?” she muttered under her breath.

  “She’s a club girl so they act differently, you know? No worries. I’m here with you.”

  She shoved back in her chair and laughed dryly. “Don’t mind me. You’re a free agent.” He nodded. “I know that. I can catch up with her another time.” He smiled inwardly as she sneaked peeks at Wendy, sitting on Wheelie’s lap a couple tables away from them.

  As they finished their meal in silence, a series of beeps emitted from her phone, and she kept ignoring them.

  “I think someone’s trying to get a hold of you.” Rock pointed to her phone as it danced on the table.

  “You think?” Clotille leaned back and crossed her arms.

  She’s still fuckin’ pissed about Wendy. Damn, that’s a surprise. “You gonna pick up?”

  “No. It’s Frederick. He’s been texting and calling me nonstop since I turned my phone back on after Miss Hospitality moved on to another one of your club friends.”

  “That’s what she’s here for. You don’t need to worry about her. You could spin circles around her.” He winked and threw her one of the crooked smiles that made women flush with desire. Redness crept up her neck. The fuckin’ smile does it every damn time. “Don’t you want to see what he wants?”

  She shook her head. “I know he’s anxious that I may be hurt or in trouble.” She drummed her fingers on the table.

  “Then why don’t you answer it and tell him you’re okay?” Rock wanted to throw the beeping phone across the room and place his hands over her nervous fingers.

  “I’m not ready to talk to him.”

  “Text him.”

  “He’ll drive me crazy with questions.”

  “Don’t answer ‘em. Tell him you’re fine. That’s it. It’s not so hard.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m glad to be here with you right now. It just feels good, you know?”

  It feels fuckin’ awesome, but I can’t be drawn back into her fucked-up world. “Sure. You wanna go back up to my room?”

  “Do you have any Cajun music?”

  He nodded and couldn’t help grinning when he saw her eyes light up as she clapped her hands together. “Let’s go up. I’ll bring some brandy.”

  In his room, he poured brandy for both of them and kicked off his boots. “Get comfortable.” He sank down in the easy chair by the window.

  “I didn’t really bring that much,” she said as she took off her heels. “I’ll have to head into town tomorrow and buy a few things.”

  He went over to his dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. “Put this on.”

  She unfolded it and a menacing grim reaper grinned ghoulishly at her. “That’ll give me nightmares.”

  “It’s an Avenged Sevenfold shirt. I saw them in Denver last year. It was a kickass concert. You want another one? I got a ton, but most of them have skulls, images of blood, or guns on ‘em.”

  “I’ll stick with this one.” She went into the bathroom to change as he went over to his CD collection, pulling one out and placing it in the player. When she came out, his gaze traveled over her, taking in every bit of her. She shifted from one foot to the next. “It’s too big and too short, but it’s comfy.”

  The T-shirt fell over her ample breasts and came down mid-thigh on her, and she looked delicious wrapped in black with just enough to cover her to make his imagination go into overdrive. “It looks fine. Here.” He handed her a glass of brandy and turned on the CD.

  She sat on the bed cross-legged, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she took a sip. “Mmm… good.” Then she leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes as the melodic strains of fiddles and accordion filled the room. When the first lyrics of the song sang out, her eyes flew open. “Huval Family. My favorite Cajun band. You remembered.” Her grin lit up her whole face.

  He wanted to scoop her up, cover her in slow passionate kisses, and savor every fucking inch of her body before he made love to her. “I remembered. How could I forget? Each time I saw you at the Lafayette Crawfish Festival, you’d always be hanging around the stage when they played. You were nothing but a groupie.”

  She giggled. “I was.” She faced him, her green gaze shimmering. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve heard Cajun or Zydeco music. Merci.”

  He lifted his glass and tipped it to her. “You’re welcome.” He watched how she fell into the music, her body swaying with the beats, each movement pulling him in more. He stood up and walked over to her, his hand extended. “Let’s dance, chérie.”

  Uncertainty shadowed her face, but then she placed her hand in his and he drew her to him. Soon they were twirling around his room to the rhythm and quick fiddle action. Turning too sharply, they tripped and landed on the bed, laughing and breathless. Rock hovered over her, and when her pink tongue touched her top lip he took hungry possession of her mouth, devouring it with deep sweeping strokes of his tongue. He wanted to consume her whole.

  As he kissed her, he breathed in each of her tiny moans and whimpers. She hooked her arm around his neck, bringing him even closer to her. When he pulled away to nuzzle her neck, a soft moan escaped from her throat and he felt his cock swell in his jeans. He tugged down the too-large T-shirt, revealing her shoulder, and peppered
kisses over it while he breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with her, intoxicated on the scent.

  “Clotille, ma chérie,” he whispered as her hot skin trembled beneath his hands. She whimpered and arched her back, pressing closer to him, her hard nipples pushing against the fabric of the T-shirt. “Fuck,” he gritted as he pulled back to look at her. Her lips were red and swollen from kissing and lust misted her eyes. His gaze journeyed over her curves, his hands following its path. When he slid his hand under her shirt, she gently moved it away. Their gazes locked on each other, their breaths ragged. “Why’re you stopping me? I know you want this as much as I do.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” she said softly.

  “The fuck you don’t.” He straightened up. “You’ve always known exactly what you wanted, and you made sure you got it.”

  “Not really. You thought that about me because my father was rich and it seemed like everything was wonderful for me…. It wasn’t.” She brushed her hand against his. “Roche, please don’t be angry. I just think it’s too soon. I do want you, but I’ve been in a fucked up situation for the past four years. I can’t just switch things on and off that easily. Can’t we give it some time and get to know each other again? If we jump in too fast, it would just confuse everything”

  “For the last fuckin’ time, my name is Rock. And nothing would be confused. It’d just be two old friends fucking.” He stood up and turned off the music.

  “Is that what we were? Friends.”

  “Yeah, babe. Nothing more.” He sat at the edge of the bed and pulled his boots on.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Downstairs where everybody knows the score.” He opened the door and walked out, anger pricking at his body. Now she can wonder if I’m gonna fuck Wendy. Just like I wondered if she was fucking Luc when my ass was in the pen and I didn’t hear from her. Fuck this shit!

  By the time he came back to his room, she was already asleep, her soft breaths filling his ears. He stripped down to his boxers before lying down on the makeshift bed on the floor. He hadn’t fucked Wendy or any other woman downstairs. How could he? He had Clotille on his mind. I gotta stop this shit before anything happens. I got plenty of pussy to get lost in. I don’t fuckin’ need her. But the tent he was pitching in his boxers said otherwise, and he cursed under his breath.

  He knew sleep would elude him that night, but somehow it didn’t matter. All that mattered was she was with him for the moment, and he knew that was all he could really count on from her.

  Chapter Ten

  Clotille’s eyes snapped open. Streaks of sunlight filtered through the blinds. Oh God! I’ve overslept. Frederick is going to be so angry with me. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room, realization of where she was dawning on her. There was no Frederick anymore, and she could do whatever the hell she wanted. All of a sudden, she felt ultra-awake, adrenaline rejuvenating her. I’m in Roche’s room. Smiling, she inched her way over to the edge of the bed and looked down, expecting to see him. He wasn’t there. She glanced around and noticed his pillow, sheet, and blankets were stacked neatly on one of the chairs by the window.

  She wasn’t sure he’d even been there the previous night. He’d been so angry and she couldn’t blame him. She’d wanted to make love to him, but she couldn’t. She knew if she spent the night with him, she’d never be able to leave him. She’d given up so much since he’d gone away to prison. And he kept telling her they were friends. I definitely don’t want Roche as a fuck buddy. It seemed like he wanted to have fun and keep her at bay at the same time. She needed time to think and figure out how she was going to right all the wrongs that littered her past.

  Pangs of jealousy stabbed her as she thought of Wendy pleasuring him. She could hardly expect him to stay celibate just because she was staying in his room. He was such a gorgeous man, so of course women wanted to be with him. She had no right to be mad at them; she was only the visiting friend, after all. But the way he’d kissed her had taken her breath away. I’m going to have to be careful that I don’t lose control. I want him so bad, but she couldn’t risk both their hearts again.

  She held her head between her hands. She’d had too much to drink, but it had been a good night: listening to music, sipping brandy, and reminiscing about crawfish boils, sneaking out at night, and so many other things. It’d felt good to talk to him about home, and she’d made sure to steer their conversation away from anything negative. Then he’d asked her to dance and she loved being in his arms. It’d been perfect until the kiss and her rejection of him. If only he knew how badly she wanted and needed him. He’d been in her mind and between her legs ever since the first night she’d recognized him in Frederick’s house. Frederick. What the fuck am I going to do about him? I know he’ll be spiteful. I have to get back to Lafayette and smooth everything over. I have to make sure my—

  A thunderous rumble shook the glass panes, and she scrambled out of bed and ran over to the window. Several motorcycles roared into the parking lot. The men all wore black leather and the sun bounced off the chrome, creating beacons of white light. When the men turned off their engines, stillness crept back in. She watched as the men dismounted and walked into the building. She tried to see if she could spot Rock, but he was not among the group of bikers.

  Walking back to the bed, she saw her phone sitting on the nightstand. With trepidation, she turned it on, a series of beeps assaulting her ears.

  She had numerous calls and texts from Frederick, one or the other coming through every fifteen minutes practically the whole night. Guilt washed over her as her chest tightened. She knew Frederick was probably beside himself with worry, and he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. After all, he’d helped her so much; an explanation from her was merited. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t fulfill the agreement, that Rock had reentered her life. Fate had decided it, and who was she to argue with such a power?

  She picked up her phone and began to text him when it rang. It was Frederick. Exhaling a long breath, she picked up.

  “Where the fuck are you? Do you know how worried I’ve been about you? I called the police, the hospitals. Fuck, pet, how could you let me worry like this? Why didn’t you answer my calls or texts?” He sounded so worried and upset that she cursed herself for being so selfish.

  “I’m sorry, Frederick. I needed some time by myself. I’m exhausted and I need to think.”

  “Where are you?” A hard edge had crept into his voice.

  “I’m safe. You don’t have to worry.”

  A long pause ensued and his anger radiated through the phone, curling around her neck and squeezing it. “You need to come home. Now.”

  “I can’t just yet,” she whispered.

  “You’ve made your point, pet. You’re throwing a tantrum, and I find it childish and distasteful. If I’ve been too hard on you, you should’ve told me. You know you can talk to me.”

  “I used to be able to, but over the last year you’ve become too possessive and it scares me.”

  “We can talk about it. Everything I do is because I love you. You know that, right?”

  “Sometime it’s too much.”

  “How can love ever be too much?”

  “When it suffocates and swallows up who I am. I miss who I used to be.” Her voice hitched.

  “You miss the confused, broke, sniveling coward who couldn’t even figure out how to make a go of her life? Think about what you’re saying, pet.”

  “I have to go, Frederick. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Are you with the biker?”

  “What? No. Of course not.”

  “You better not be or else I’ll have to do something you’ll regret for the rest of your life. You knew what my conditions were and you agreed to them. Now you’re breaking them, and innocent people will be a part of the fallout. You’ll have their blood on your hands. Don’t be foolish, pet. You and others have so much to lose if you leave me.”

  His words chilled her bo
nes and she shivered as his subtle but powerful threats weaved around her, choking all the breath from her.

  He snorted. “I think you understand, pet.” The phone clicked off and she stood there staring at it for a long time. She knew what he was capable of, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would make good on his threat. She couldn’t let it happen; she had to do something about it. One thing was certain—going back to Frederick wasn’t an option. She’d have to figure out how to stay one step ahead of him.

  She rubbed her pounding temples with her fingertips. I’m going to have to ask Rock to help me without him knowing why. How the hell am I going to do that? Clotille knew Rock didn’t trust her because she’d abandoned him when he needed her the most, but she’d had no choice at that time. What he hadn’t known, hadn’t wanted to hear, was that she’d let him in her heart, and that had never faltered. Even when she’d married Luc and knew she’d shattered Rock’s heart, she’d loved him. Life was hard and she’d had to play with the cards it had dealt her, knowing Rock would never have understood that. How could he? He came from a different background from me. I was expected to behave and live in a certain way. The only person who could’ve supported and saved me was locked up in prison, hate and rage clouding everything in his life. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I fucked up big time. That is my private hell, just like his is the image of his murdered mother burned into his brain forever.

  She’d need a lifetime to correct a decade of mistakes and secrets but she’d have to try, even if she died doing so.

  * * *

  Banger stood silent in front of the brothers, muscles and veins straining against his skin, his lips pulled back and baring his teeth. His icy blue gaze bored into Rock, whose shoulders slumped as he braced himself for the rage his president was ready to unleash on him.

  “What in the goddamned fuckin’ hell made you think it was a good idea to bring the rich fuck’s wife to the Insurgents’ clubhouse?” His face was mottled, and he clenched and unclenched his hands.