Wild: Heaven Hill Generations #2
Page 17
“You’ll have to take this,” he whispers, before I realize I’ve said those words aloud.
His mouth attaches itself to my neck, tugging on the skin before he soothes the burn with his tongue. I grab his head, holding it tightly to my flesh as he all but makes love to my neck. His palms slap onto my thighs while his fingers dig into the front of my panties. I want him to go under the wet panel, I want him to use those fingers to pleasure me, to take the edge off this ache I feel.
“Those little noises you make in the back of your throat, Shortcake,” he mumbles as he pulls back, taking my ear into his mouth, tugging on the lobes. “They’re gonna get me hard again.”
I can feel him stirring against me with renewed interest. What I wouldn’t give for us to be in our hotel room, away from any prying eyes. That’s when I feel his fingers make contact with my aching core. Using two of them, he presses into me, holding me tightly with his body. His thumb flicks against my clit and I’m so turned on from the blow job I gave him, I come hard against him.
“Holy shit, Shortcake.” He buries his face in my throat. “Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you know how much I love you?”
I freeze. That’s the first time he’s ever said those words to me. I’ve been feeling them for a while, but didn’t want to be the first to say them. As he pulls away from me, helping me down, and both of us are situating our clothes, I grab his hand, forcing him to look at me. “Do you really?”
“Love you?”
Those eyes of his are clear, full of honesty and truth. “Yeah.”
“I have for a long time.” He cups my face in his hands, pulling me in for a kiss. “I just wasn’t sure if you ever wanted to hear it. After this though,” he gestures around us, “I couldn’t hold it back.”
Giving him my best smile, I raise up on tiptoes. “I’m glad you couldn’t. I love you too, Wild. I love you too.”
As he grabs my hand and we make our way back to the hotel, I know this will go down in history as one of the best nights ever.
Wild
When the phone rings at four a.m., nothing good ever comes from it. I struggle to orient myself with where I am, and as I see Drew’s number on the screen, I get a sinking feeling.
“Yeah?”
“Y’all need to head back to Bowling Green. There’s been an attack. Someone tried to run Charity off the road with the girls in the car. Someone shot up Walker’s Wheels, Harper’s shop, and Christine’s Salon. We aren’t sure what their next plans are, and we aren’t sure who did this. The two of you need to get home now.”
Quickly I wake Addie up, getting her out of bed and getting us on the road. This definitely wasn’t the end to our vacation we thought we’d have, but as my bike eats up the miles and the closer to home we get, the safer I feel.
Home.
Never did I think I would call Bowling Green home, but it’s slowly become that for me over the past few months. When I drove north the last time, I had no family, no money, no home, and no love. Now, I realize as I drive north, I have all of them – most importantly the love of the woman hanging on tight as we try and beat an unknown threat.
Make no mistake about it, we feel it, someone watching, someone waiting, someone planning. It’s palpable, and I don’t feel safe again until we park amongst all the bikes in the clubhouse parking lot.
As we go inside, we’re surrounded by family, and folded into a club meeting all of us hoped we’d never have to be a part of.
Epilogue One
Addie
It’s been weeks since we came back from the beach, and we’re still waiting for the other shoe to drop. The guys in the club seem to know the threat we’re facing, but it hasn’t been announced yet. All I know is I’m feeling safe with my man and my dad making sure I’m their top priority.
“Don’t leave work until I get here to pick you up,” Wild tells me as we sit in my SUV. He’s taken to driving me here and picking me up every day, unless he has something to do for the club. Dad’s doing the same with Mom, and as far as I know, all the other guys are joining in. If they have something to do for the club, we’ve been instructed to car pool with one another.
“Yes, sir,” I joke, leaning over the console to give him a kiss.
He playfully grabs my lip in between his teeth, nipping, before he soothes it with his tongue. When I pull back, his eyes are dark, and mysterious, just the way I like them. “I kinda like the sound of that, Shortcake.”
“I just bet you do,” I laugh before my tone turns serious. “Be safe today, Wild. I love you.”
Months ago, I never could have imagined saying those words to someone who wasn’t family. They weren’t even on my radar, but this man, with the way he cares for me, the way he puts me first in everything and never makes me feel alone? He loves me, and I love him. We aren’t perfect and Lord knows shit around here isn’t perfect, but together we’re making a life. One that we can be proud of, one that defies where we came from. As I scoot out, he reaches over, grabbing my hand in his.
“Love you too.”
And I don’t even question it. I bask in the truth of his words.
Not too bad for a child of adoption who always thought she was unwanted and second-best. Because with this man? I know I always come first. Blowing him a kiss, I strut my stuff across the parking lot and enter CRISIS to start my day, with a contented smile on my face.
Mom passes me, giving me a grin. “Addie, I do have to say, love and happiness, it looks damn good on you.”
As I think about it, I would have to agree. All because I found my own sense of wild in a man who makes my heart pound, my blood boil, and my soul sing.
I am definitely one happy girl.
Epilogue Two
Drew
As I glance at the information that’s just been given to me, I want badly to kill this fucker. Rage boils deep in my gut that I haven’t felt in a long time. Not since I was a football player out on the high school field fucking up guys who were much smaller than me.
He ruined a holiday weekend for all of us, set out to make concentrated targets on members of my club, my family - the people I truly care about in this world.
Only to find out he’s my half-brother?
Good old dad couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Not the one who adopted me and my sister when he fell in love with our mom, not the one who abandoned her when she needed him the most. Now this half-brother thinks I owe him something? He thinks I got here because of the sperm donor who sired us both? Apparently he thinks I’m the president of this MC because of where I came from? Somebody gave him some bad information and they did a half-ass recon job.
He’s in for a shit-tastic surprise.
He wants to mess with me? He can. He wants a war? He’ll get one. He wants to hurt what’s mine? He can fucking try.
He won’t succeed.
He wants to see how serious I am about this president patch I wear? He’s about to fucking find out.
THE END!
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Also by Laramie
RENEGADE
* * *
PROLOGUE
Whitney
“Ryan, I’m tellin’ you, I need my hair pulled, I need a red handprint across my ass, I need someone paying attention to my nipples, a dick in my treasure cove. I need it all.”
Drunk. I am drunk. Like way past the legal limit – otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here spilling all of my secrets to my baby brother’s best friend. The baby brother that had been totally unplanned by my parents. Ten years my junior, baby brother. He and Ryan are the same age; twenty-five to my thirty-five. Makes me feel so much older, just thinking about it. Not only by age, but by life experience too. And dear Lord, I think I sound like Julia Sugarbaker. I’m three sheets to the wind, and nobody stopped me.
I see him try to suppress a grin as he brings his bottle of beer up to his lips, taking a nice long pull off of it. I am mesmerized by the way his throat muscles move when he swallows, pushing the liquid down his throat. No denying he’s a man. The palm of his hand completely covers the label on the bottle, the one drink he takes, almost drains half the bottle. For a second he focuses on my face, squinting as he watches me. “How many of those have you had to drink?” He points the neck of his bottle to the wine glass in my hand.
His voice is as smooth as the wine I swirl in my glass. I tilt my head to the side, realizing that the whole room tilts too. Counting back, I try to think how many I had before he took the seat next to mine, and I can’t remember. “Five or six?” I ask him, like he should know.
“You think maybe it’s time you quit for the night?” He gently tries to take what I have left away from me.
His fingers are soft as they try to pry my fingers from around the stem, but I resist his attempts, and pull it closer to my body. I’m like a two-year-old with her blankie. This glass of wine is my security and nobody’s taking it away from me.
“Quit?” I ask, and run my tongue over my dry lips, trying to make them so that they can speak easier. “Quitting is not something I do. That’s what my ex-husband did. My mama did. That’s what my former boss did,” I shake my head, and try to stand up on four-inch stilettos. He reaches out and grabs my elbow, steadying me, being a rock when I haven’t had one in a very long time. “Whitney Trumbolt is not a fuckin’ quitter.”
I can see Ryan try again to keep the smile from his face. The corners of his lips twitch, and it pisses me off. Not because I’m mad, but because he thinks it’s funny. He thinks this is a joke, and it’s my life. The life I’ve been trying so desperately to get out from under or save. I’m not sure which yet. All I know is I haven’t been living.
“You think this is funny?” I take another drink from my wine glass. It’s a big one this time, I drain it down.
“No, Whit, I think you’re having a bad night.” His tone is one someone would use with a kindergartner, talking them down from a temper tantrum. It pisses me off too.
A bad night? Try a bad decade. If I could do anything, it would go back to the night I turned twenty-five, and be the age that Ryan is again. I would do so many things different, I would change so much about the choices that I made back then. “You know nothing about me, other than the fact that I’m Tank’s sister.”
He grabs me by the wrist, locking his fingers around the skin and bone. I never realized until this moment how much bigger he is than me. Never really paid any kind of attention to it – oh I’ve paid attention to him off and on through-out the years, but never like this.
Ryan “Renegade” Kepler rises to his full height, towering over me as I do my best to keep my footing and ignore the way my skin tingles where he is gripping my wrist. He leans in close – so close I can feel his breath on my skin.
“I know a lot of things about you that you don’t think I know.”
His voice is hard and soft at the same time. I close my eyes to savor it. This is the closest I’ve been to a man in a very long time. My body is at attention, as is my libido.
“I know that you love your mama’s fried chicken, your grandmother’s homemade mac and cheese, Alabama football, and Dale Earnhardt Jr. I know that you have a soft heart. Hallmark movies make you cry, you pick up strays on the side of the road, and you always buy that homeless man near the Starbucks a morning coffee,” he tells me.
I’m wrapped up in his voice, in the things he does know about me. Things I never knew that he’d paid attention to. I’m swaying, but it’s because his voice is doing weird things to my equilibrium. His other hand wraps around my hip and I can feel the heat of his body through the material of my skirt.
“I know that your ex-husband was a piece of shit. I know that your ex-boss didn’t know what the hell to do with the creative genius that is your mind, and I know that your mama will never forgive you for giving up pageants, but she’ll never forgive herself for pushing you that damn hard,” he stops and pulls back, giving me his eyes and face to stare at.
Our eyes meet and I realize with clarity that I’m breathing hard, hard enough that it feels as if I’ve run a marathon.
“You wanna know what else I know?” The question is asked in a way that says he’s not sure if he wants to answer tonight. There’s a string of awareness stretched between us, and it’s pulling me closer.
I’m captivated by the way the dim lights of the bar make his brown eyes seem darker, I’m enthralled by the fact that it looks like it’s been a few days since he shaved, and I’m even more fascinated by the cut he has on his cheek. He and Tank went out on a call last night, and I can’t help but wonder if that cut is the result of it. I shake my head and then nod, because I do want to find out what else he knows. I step forward, put my arms around his neck, and lean up so that now I’m the one in his ear. “Tell me what else you know.”
I see him look around the bar, checking to make sure that we’re not being paid any attention to. He bends with his knees and grips my ass cheeks in his hands. “I know I’m the one that can put my dick in that treasure cove. I know I’m the one that can pull that hair, I can pull on those nipples, and I can smack that ass. The question is – will you let me?”
It’s not a question I can say no to. The way the air cackles between us, and the alcohol I’ve consumed. There’s not any way that I can say no nor is there any desire on my part to deny it. I’ve denied myself a lot of things in this life, and this right here, is not something that I want to brush off.
“Yes,” I breath out….adding on a “please.”
“Oh baby, you don’t have to beg. I’ll do whatever you need me to,” Ryan says as I find my hand in his and stumble to keep up as he pulls us out of the bar.
In mere minutes I’m in his truck, and we’re headed towards my house. I will myself not to pass out, because for the first time in years, I want to be here and present for this experience that’s about to happen. I want to remember every damn detail. If it’s only going to be for this one night, I don’t want to miss a thing.