Two Sides of Noelle: MC Romance (Demon Rebels MC Book 2)

by Rayne O'Gara

  Shit, now I’m hyperventilating again.

  Once I calm down, again, I focus on the books. I need to get home. To a bottle of the white wine I have hidden in my fridge that Stacy brought over last week. Drunkenness. I feel the need to wallow in that state of mind.

  A knock at my office door cuts through my inner freak out.

  “Hey, Dad,” I greet when my father walks into the door.

  “Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?”

  “It’s going,” I answer while rolling my eyes. “Good news is that we are still in the black. That’s about as exciting as it gets back here.” I sigh and stretch my arms out, working out the kinks in my shoulders.

  “Yup. But then again, there was some excitement today though.” He leans his shoulder against the wall next to the door frame and crosses his arms over his chest.

  At my eyes widening, he nods his head and shoves his hands down into his pants pockets. “You want to talk about that?”

  “No.” An infinity of nos.

  “Alright then. Well, shops all closed down and I’m out of here.” Dad pushes away from the wall and starts out the office door before I stop him.

  “Why did you let him back here?” I ask.

  He turns back to me and stands there silently for what feels like hours while he watches me before answering. “Seems like you wanted to risk a walk on the side of dangerous, darlin’. If you’re willing to play with fire, you have to be ready for the consequences of that burn,” he finishes with a level glare before leaving me alone once again.

  Shit. And that’s my dad in a nutshell. He doesn’t have to be happy with the choices I make and he supports me as well as listens when I need to talk, but he has always been very firm on having me handle things on my own. After mom passed he never remarried, saying he didn’t have time for romance when he needed to be there for the only girl in his heart. Mom not only did a number on me with her dreams and determination, but also on Dad too. She hid a great deal of her nature from him and at the time, I was too young to know or act on her behavior. I always thought he knew what she was doing and saying and he never did anything to stop her.

  I hated him then as I hated her. Mom’s car accident and death revealed a lot, but me and Dad’s relationship was already rocky. Being so alone, hate-filled, and damaged with no one to turn to allowed Stephanie to creep into my life. And that went so very well in the end for me.

  Me and Dad’s relationship didn’t start to be repaired until he found me homeless, jobless, and alone. All of which, looking back, was really my fault. I didn’t have anyone to turn to. I thought for sure my dad knew everything and turned a blind eye to what mom was doing, or how I was. Vicious things were said. By me to him. I should have known from his shocked and appalled look on his face as I stormed out of the house, with only a trash bag and two boxes of my only possessions that were not tied to either him or mom. I was so blinded by my anger and hate I refused all contact with him. I thank God every day for the past three years that he kept pushing and refused to give up on me. With nowhere to fall because I was already at rock bottom I listened to his side of the story and accepted his help. Once I learned his side of everything, our little family of two grew stronger than ever at his revelations.

  He was divorcing her and filing for full custody of me after the wool was pulled away from his eyes. I’m not sure if the way she treated me was so very subtle to him or if he just chose to ignore the downward spiral I was in. He also really wasn’t around much. With the hardware store hours, which with him starting it from the ground up was extremely time consuming, and when he was home my mother spoke of girl things. A man like my father and girl things? The man had no clue about that and figured what his wife was up to was perfectly normal. The night she stormed off and died was the day everything became finalized. Which then, new questions arose. Was the crash an accident like we believed or in order to save her reputation, did she end her life purposely in order to not live with her true self exposed?

  Something my father and I will never know, we can only speculate. I personally believe that she would rather die than have her evilness exposed to her social circle when it would have been known all around how she was destroying the only child she had, that she ‘doted on’, for her own ambitions.

  My stomach clenches at the remembrance of her soft voice playing in my head, spouting ugly words, slapping my food away. Pushing me to the breaking point in rehearsals. Making me keep a journal with my daily calorie intake because ‘successful dancers are not fat pigs’. Shoving her own fingers down my throat to expel the contents of my stomach because my calorie count was too high that day.

  Until I didn’t need her to do it anymore. I could do it myself.

  I stand up from my office chair and close the memories up behind a steel trapdoor my therapist had me create deep in my mind. Enough for tonight.

  Mentally exhausted, I give up and pack all my things into my indigo purse before walking into the darkness of the still night. I lock up the store and head to my parked car. Really I could walk home, I only live just a few blocks away, but my dad would hit me with another one of his looks before a safety speech if I tried to walk home in the dark. Less of a headache just to drive and warmer in the winter, so plus side.

  My dashboard clock flashes nine thirty at me, I didn’t realize how late it had become while I was trapped in my thoughts. I want a quick dinner, a bath, and my bed to sleep away this awful day. Four minutes later having pulled into my driveway and entering my small home, I toss my purse onto my entrance table and kick my shoes off before changing into my black sleep shorts and matching tank top. It feels like a black clothing night, no bright colors or cutsie animal characters for me this evening.

  First things first, the wine. I pull down a glass and open the fridge, quickly filling the glass almost to the brim. Next, something to eat. With a fortifying gulp, yes gulp, don’t judge, I peruse my close to bare shelves. Looks like an omelet or mac ‘n’ cheese. Choices, choices.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  My body freezes at the noise. Who in the seventh circle of hell could that possibly be this late at night?

  Maybe Stace texted that she was coming over, I think before checking my phone once I pull it from my purse. No messages or missed calls. Sneaking up to the door on my tiptoes, I glance through the blurry peep hole. My body shivers. Why?

  Why me?

  More knocking, louder this time, has me jump back away from the door. Should I ignore him? Crap no I can’t do that. I have already screwed up an apology to him already. I could just open the door, say sorry, then shut the door. Both my conscience and personal space will be appeased.

  I worry my bottom lip with my teeth for a few more seconds, deciding on what to do before straightening my spine, throwing my shoulders back, and unlocking my door before I lose all courage.

  Damn he looks good. Faded blue jeans, black shirt that stretches tightly across his large and defined chest, his shoulders covered in the leather jacket that sends a fission of naughty pleasure down to my core. Why does he have to look so good?

  One large scarred hand holds a six pack of beer while the other holds a pizza box with the logo of the pizzeria down the road. My eyes snap up to his in question, but anger replaces it when he smirks at my clothes, then grunts before walking into my home. He just grunts. What is up with that!?

  Slamming the door and spinning on my heel, I walk into my kitchen to see him looking through my cabinets. As if him just waltzing, okay not waltzing more like stomping, into my house uninvited wasn’t enough!

  “What are you doing here?”

  He stops looking through my cupboard to turn and face me. “I told you. I want to see you. You got any paper plates?” he asks before continuing his search.

  “Caveman, I told you no. I distinctively remember saying no.” Oh for heaven’s sake. I throw my hands up into the air before walking over to the cabinet and hand him a paper plate. Anything to get him to stop rummaging through
my stuff.

  He takes the plate, adds a few slices, and hands it to me. My movements are stiff reaching out for the pizza, I don’t even know why I am taking it from him in the first place. Turning around I plop the plate onto the counter and turn to kick him out. And turn right into his massive frame.

  Whoa.

  His hands grip under my ass cheeks before lifting me up to settle down next to my pizza on the counter top. His warm hands cup my face and force my head up to look into his dark, dark eyes. I open my mouth to say something, but my words are cut off when his thumb presses against my lips.

  “You have a beautiful mouth, baby, but keep it shut.”

  He thinks my mouth is beautiful? A happy calm falls over me until the rest of his words register. Did he just tell me to shut up!? In my own house?

  “We’re going to get a few things straight. Your mouth lies.”

  “You,” His hand squeezed tighter against my jaw and I smartly choose to be quiet. For now.

  “I don’t like liars, but after what I saw, I figure it’s for a pretty good reason the things you said to me and Wood. Now I heard you loud and clear today. The thing is, your lying mouth said no, but the rest of you, your eyes, breathing, these gorgeous tits, all of that said yes. I’m inclined to believe those things over the one negative.”

  Well shit.

  I grumble under his thumb making him smirk again. Why does that smirk rev my engine instead of piss me off? Oh, that’s right, because I know what this man is capable of doing to me with that mouth of his. His eyebrow raises at the same time his thumb leaves my lips. I know he wants me to repeat myself, but it was a smartass remark, and now I’m worried to say it. Oh well, take me as I am.

  “Who made you an expert in reading people?”

  “Special Forces.”

  “Oh, yeah that would do it I guess.” No more smartass from me on that subject. He nods and starts to move away from me. “Caveman?” When I have back his attention I sigh, slumping my shoulders. “I’m sorry for what I said before, to you and Wood. I had no right being a bitch to you, but I wasn’t lying when I said that we can’t do this.”

  “You don’t think you can do this, not that we can’t.”

  “I can’t risk it again. And furthermore, what is this exactly?” I ask, waving my hand between us.

  “You need a label? Why can’t it just be figuring shit out? See how it goes until we’re done.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about, until you’re done. Where would that leave me?” I know where that would leave me. Heartbroken. Alone. I barely survived Stephanie, looking into Caveman’s fathomless eyes I know that if this went bad and he was done with me that I would be shattered.

  “How about you stop thinking of the end game and just fucking ride it out.”

  “Easier said than done.” Another thought hits me. Do I want to take a chance on Caveman? Yes, I really think I do. But I still want Wood. I’m such a slut.

  “What was that?” he asks and moves his body even closer between my dangling legs.

  “What was what?”

  “Whatever just ran through your head.”

  “You are way too perceptive for my own good, you know that?” His eyes narrow at my snarky attitude.

  “Noelle. The truth,” he orders and surprisingly I’m tired of the lies. All of them. I want to have someone I can tell anything and everything to, but why does it have to be this scary biker that pulls these wants from deep within myself?

  “I’m a slut.”

  “Because you want Wood too.” I gasp at him in shock. Even though I shouldn’t be shocked, but damn, it’s like he is in my freaking head. Creepy. Nodding at him, I feel awful. Shouldn’t I be happy with all that is Caveman?

  “Good.”

  His word is confusing as hell. What’s good? That I want Wood or that I think I’m a slut? “What’s good?” I ask, knowing that if I don’t he wouldn’t answer.

  “That you want him as much as you want me.” His cocky face annoys me.

  “He hates me. And I’m not too thrilled with him either. But I still don’t understand why me wanting him is good when you and I are talking about exploring things.” See, I don’t need labels.

  “He doesn’t hate you.”

  My ‘yeah right’ face has him chuckling, it’s a nice sound.

  “Woman, you practically kicked him in the fuckin’ balls. He’s gonna be pissed off for a while,” he explains and I get it, I also get how he skipped over the other thing I asked. “Let’s eat,” his deep rumble announces and apparently the conversation is done because he steps away and shoves almost an entire piece of pizza into his mouth with one bite.

  I hop down from the counter, grab my plate, pick off the mushrooms from my pizza, and grab up my wine before joining him in the living room.

  “Movie?” he asks after gulping a healthy swig from his beer bottle. I nod at him and pick a horror movie over action. I’m a horror freak, it’s one of those things he is going to have to learn about me, the freakier the better, now might as well be that time.

  Chapter Seven

  Noelle

  “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I beg Caveman as he pounds into me from behind. My knees went limp from my first orgasm moments ago and I’m lying on the edge of my bed. His hands grip onto my hips roughly, I know leaving bruises, but I don’t give a rat’s ass because his thick cock feels so fucking good.

  After dinner the movie played and having already seen it like a million times, I lost interest pretty quickly. It’s one of my favorites, but when there is an amazingly sexy man meat sitting not two feet away from me on my couch, I lost interest in everything but him. His reaction to the scenes. His throat working as he finished his beer. The play of muscles on his forearm when he thunked the glass bottle down onto the coffee table.

  “Woman,” he growled at me without moving his eyes from the television.

  “What?” I asked innocently.

  “Keep giving me fuck me eyes and I’ll deliver,” he warned, but I fully embraced my inner slut. I jumped him. Literally. I quickly moved to straddle his thighs and kissed him. It only took a few seconds before he took over completely and kissed me deeply, wetly. His hard cock pushed against his jeans, the friction perfect against my grinding pussy. When I whimpered into his mouth he growled back and lifted us from the couch to carry me to my bedroom, never untangling our mouths. His rich flavor mixed with the tang of beer on my tongue sent me close to the edge. Clothes went flying, a condom rolled down, and he was buried so deeply inside me I swear he was hitting my womb.

  “Harder.” I’m already close again. He gives me what I demand. My back arches as I feel the crest upon me, and scream out when he pulls away from me completely. “No!”

  In a quick motion I’m flipped onto my back, legs spread wide. His eyes devour me before licking his thumb and pushing the digit against my swollen clit, making me scream his name.

  He growls when my hands cup and squeeze my breasts while his thumb still circles and slightly exerts more pressure with every rotation. “Please,” I beg him.

  His cock thrusts inside me with one stroke until his balls slap against my ass, sending more nerves tingling. He moves his circling thumb away to rest his arm above my head and changes the direction of his penetration to where each glide has his cock rub against my clit. His eyes blaze into mine, locking me in until I know he sees everything. My climax is so close the pleasure is overriding my fear or anything but him. His mouth crashes down onto mine and I see stars. I come harder than before and rip my mouth away from his to scream out his name. Caught up in the waves of ecstasy I almost miss the spasms of his cock signaling his own climax. His teeth clamp down on the tender joining of my neck and shoulder, leaving his mark on me while his groan of satisfaction rumbles against my skin going straight to my pussy making more clenching spasms around his dick.

  Caveman rolls off me and off the bed to take care of the condom before climbing back into bed with me. His arm wraps arou
nd me and pulls me into his chest where my head rests comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. Once my breathing returns to normal I look up at his face and smile at his closed eyes before asking, “You staying the night?”

  “You gonna freak the fuck out in the morning?” he quips back without opening his eyes.

  “I will try to suppress the morning after freak out.”

  “Then yeah, I’m staying.”

  I hide my smile against his muscled chest, not caring if he feels it or not. “Okay,” I whisper and run my hands up and down his taunt body.

  “Babe.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sleep.”

  “Okay.” I settle into him and close my eyes. I’m asleep before my next breath.

  My bed moves and I wake up to darkness. Caveman is gently moving me off his chest and somewhere a phone is ringing. Checking my alarm clock, I see its four in the morning. Holy crap.

  “Yeah.” I watch Caveman pull up his jeans and listen to whoever is on the other end of the line. Who would be calling him so late, or early?

  “Thirty,” he says before ending the call and tugging on his shirt. Sitting on the bed he pulls on his big black boots.

  “Caveman?” I ask and wonder if he thought I was asleep.

  “Got to go, club business.” What the heck was club business? He doesn’t give me time to ask though. With a quick deep kiss, he is gone. I don’t even here the door close, but I definitely don’t miss the sound of his Harley starting up and fading away.

  With Caveman gone I bury my head into the pillow that smells of his aftershave and groan loudly. I have a feeling my life will never be the same again, and I’m not sure if it’s for the good or bad.

  Caveman

  Leaving Noelle all warm and well fucked was not the plan tonight. That woman has fucking barriers miles high and leaving her in the middle of the night the first time she lets me back into her bed is not gonna fucking help shit. But if we are going to do this then this was something that she needs to learn, and get over. When the club calls, I’m ghost. And when the Prez calls an emergency Church at four in the fucking morning, its fucking important. Parking my bike in front of the compound among the other club members’ bikes, I see that I’m one of the last to arrive. Checking the Prospect at the gate as well as the fence line as I rode in, nothing stood out as a danger, but that doesn’t explain why my nerves are tight as fuck. Something’s wrong.