Ride Trilogy Book 1

by Jayne Blue

  Raleigh thought better of it and left her wine half downed. She was taking a huge leap being out and she was getting more afraid by the second. She did not want to ruin her friends' night though getting dizzy after on glass of wine. They worked hard too and deserved not to have to babysit her.

  “So we’re going to the speakeasy.” Courtney explained and they followed her out the door and down the block. Both shorter women had to hoof it fast to match Courtney’s confident stride.

  “The what,” Raleigh asked.

  “The coolest thing right now is bars with no advertising, no names, and no signs. They pop up for a few weeks, then poof! The bar’s gone and the party moves to a new one. This new one we are going to is supposed to be like an old-time fight club. It’s called Bareknuckles!” Courtney was beside herself with glee at her adventure planning.

  Sure enough, the bar next to the one they had started in looked closed condemned even. Raleigh and Alysha gave each other concerned looks.

  Courtney knocked on the door and a window opened.

  “Password.” Really? Password? Was Al Capone dropping in later?

  “Designated Driver.” Courtney said and that was apparently right because the door swung open.

  “Welcome dames,” whispered the doorman and Courtney turned to them to explain how she came by the location and password for Bareknuckles Bar.

  “The waiter said when anyone orders water he gives them the tip and the password to this place. Pretty cool right?”

  “This is all legal right, I am a damn kindergarten teacher,” Alysha said.

  “Oh yeah, we did a story on it at WLUV, legal, fun, and totally retro.”

  The Bareknuckles Bar was straight out of 1920s movie. The bar lined all the darkened walls of the place. The tables and chairs looked like they’d been stolen from a salon straight out of a movie Western. The tables were situated around a boxing ring smack dab in the middle of the space.

  Raleigh looked around. Surely they had to be out of place here. They couldn’t possibly be the regular customer of Barenknuckles.

  But she was wrong, hipsters, college kids, and young professionals sat at the barstools and crowded the ring, three rows deep. Before they could even order a drink, a bell rang and a man in the center of the ring announced the event.

  “PoPo Portuguese vs. Jean-Claude!”

  Raleigh looked over the heads of the people watching and into the ring. Her jaw dropped. The floppy hair on top, the broad shoulders, it was him. Raleigh’s eyes drank in the muscle and sinew that made up Jean-Claude. Which was clearly his fighting name because Jean-Claude was actually Mace. Sweaty, mean and scary as hell looking. But the man in the ring was her neighbor.

  For the next eight minutes, Raleigh forgot about her carefully tended balance. She watched as Mace dodged PoPo, blocked a kick, and took a vicious hit on his jaw. Which served to really piss him off it appeared.

  “That guy is so fucking hot,” Courtney yelled in her ear. Yelling was the only way to communicate at that moment at Bareknuckles.

  “That’s him.”

  “What?”

  “That’s my neighbor.”

  “Jesus H. Christ,” Alysha said.

  “Yep. Though I think Jean-Claude must be some sort of stage name.”

  Mace spit a bit of blood out after the punch on the jaw and got to work. He slammed PoPo to the mat with a loud thud and the bar went nuts.

  “PoPo going down!” One person yelled.

  “Never bet against Jean-Claude Van Damage!” Another joked.

  Mace had PoPo screaming for mercy on the ground as he unleashed punch after punch.

  “Isn’t that ref supposed to step in and save that other guy?” She turned to Alysha, but Alysha was as the bar. Courtney too had been swept up in bar mayhem and was talking up some guy. Raleigh was alone in the crowd and rather worried that she was about to watch Mace murder someone.

  In the overwhelming sight, sound, and sensory overload she absolutely forgot to worry about herself at all.

  “STOP!” She yelled at the top of her lungs and miraculously Mace must have heard her. Or the ref did. But she swore it was Mace who keyed into her voice over the crowd because he looked right at her, as he continued to pound on his opponent. He may have heard her, but he did not heed her. The ref came over, finally, and pulled Mace, or Jean-Claude, off of PoPo whatever his name was.

  The crowd erupted around her and money went flying from person to person. Of course, they would all bet on this, it was like a cockfight, right? But with humans. The bar might be legal, but she doubted the betting was.

  Raleigh had never seen anything like it. The next fight was about to start, one right after another. She felt penned into the throng all of a sudden. And without Mace in the ring to focus on, she remembered to be afraid of having a seizure in this environment.

  Raleigh’s heart was pounding so hard she felt it would beat out of her chest. She needed out of there. Fast.

  She was about to make a scene, she knew it. She felt it coming on. It would be very bad.

  Where were Alysha and Courtney? Dammit. She felt a terrifying thrumming in her ears and looked for the nearest exit. If she was going down, she’d rather have it happen in the ally. Away from people who would stare at her, pity her, and be afraid of her.

  She saw a red exit sign near the back of the bar. There was no time to get to her friends; she just needed to get to fresh air. Raleigh tried to nudge her way through the mass of fight spectators, but it was not working. She was not making headway.

  She felt a hand on her elbow and a total stranger decided this was the perfect time to hit on her. Shit.

  “Hey gorgeous, how about a drink?” Which came out as a yell since yelling was the only way to be heard in Bareknuckles Bar apparently. The man was tall, he could see over the crowd, and maybe he could get her through to the exit.

  “Listen, can you get me to the door? I need air.”

  “Sure doll face.” Ugh. Dollface. Whatever. She needed someone to help her plow through the fight club fans, now. Raleigh started to panic but the stranger got her to the door, she had to give him that. That is where his helpfulness ended.

  “Let me get a drink for you before we head out to have some alone time.” He put his hands on her hips in a way that said he was very serious about the alone time. Crap.

  Raleigh forgot that in a bar if you give even the slightest indication that you do not want a person to drop dead they stick to you like glue. She had done the worst possible thing and asked this guy for a favor. Now he figured she owed him one. Time to cut him off completely. She gave her best bitch face. She felt bad about it, but she didn’t want a hook up she wanted out.

  “No thanks, I just need air.”

  “Aw, come on Dollface.” Dollface? Did he come from the actual 1930s? The stranger leaned in to try to kiss her.

  “No.” She pushed the drunken stranger back, but he was way too big. This was not going well at all.

  “Wha..” And all of a sudden the stranger reeled backward.

  “She said no I believe, no,” It was Mace.

  “Okay, okay,” and the stranger moved away. It was the cold water this dude needed to smarten up. It was easy to see Mace or Jean-Claude, as they called him in Bareknuckles, could kill him with his bare hands.

  “Raleigh, how can I be of service, you look pale.” Mace looked worried. She was worried too.

  “Please let me out.” She sagged toward the door.

  Mace pushed the handle and swooped her up into his arms and into the alley. Whoa!

  He gently placed her on her feet and she put her hands on his solid chest to steady herself. He was still shirtless from the fight with only a towel around his neck. She took a breath and slowly let it out. Then another. She could not prevent an episode, not really, but she could get her balance back, at least a little. If it happened out here, it would be slightly less mortifying.

  “Did you have too much to drink? Do you need me to call a doctor?�
�� Mace asked and she was aware of his hands lightly around her waist, supporting her but not pushing her.

  “I need to breath for a second, if I’m conscious and talking, then I don’t need a doctor,” She answered and then lifted her arm to show him her medic-alert bracelet.

  It read “Epilepsy, Call 911” and a red cross was engraved next to her health information.

  “You’re not having a seizure right now?”

  “No, I’m okay. I’m okay.” She said it more to herself than him. She did feel okay. The moment had passed. She did not see spots. It was okay; she reassured herself of the fact and hoped it was true.

  As her panic subsided, her awareness of Mace increased. He had come to her rescue in many ways tonight, getting rid of that guy, and then getting her outside. She let her eyes slide over his broad chest and six-pack abs. Shirtless was a good look for Mace Alois.

  “Thank you, Mace,” She said it softly and then she did something she had not done since college. She channeled the bold girl she used to be and she made the first move. He had helped her and she decided a thank you kiss was in order.

  Raleigh leaned up and placed her lips on Mace’s cheek. It tasted of blood, stubble, and salt. If she intended anything, she intended for this to be a quick peck, a throwback to the flirty college girl she used to be, who did not have to log every moment of the day.

  She did not bargain on how powerfully her body would respond to his. Mace’s hand on her arm the other day set her body thrumming and that was nothing to the way her insides heated at the touch of her lips on his skin just now. He made her hungry. She could not find a better word. Hungry.

  Instead of pulling away, she lingered. Their faces touched. She wanted more than the sweet little thank you kiss she blithely doled out. Then Mace turned his head just enough, slowly, toward her, and their lips met.

  The sweet kiss was so much more, so quickly Raleigh did not think; her tongue darted out to taste his lip.

  She worried for a second that she had been too forward, hitting on a guy who was just trying to be polite to the epileptic girl? Then it happened.

  Mace’s tongue met hers and it was a catalyst to something she had never felt before. Mace took two powerful steps forward and she backward. The pressure of his lips and his body propelled her up against the brick wall of the alley. Mace’s hands were all over her. They were instantly wild together. Unbidden her leg twisted around his.

  This had so quickly turned into the most intense encounter of her life.

  Her skin reacted to his touch like a million fizzy Champagne bubbles. She found herself wrapping her hands around his neck, rubbing her body up against his.

  It was as if the touch of his tongue on hers turned the spark of attraction into an inferno. She felt his hands on the sides of her hips up and up to the side of her breasts and down again. It was crazy, out of control, and she wanted more. She would have let him take her there. She wanted him to. More than anything else, she could think of.

  But as quickly as it started Mace pulled back, an inch, two inches. He flattened his hands on the wall on either side of her head.

  Their kiss stopped and the only sound in the alley was the sound of both of their breaths, heavy and fast. It was jarring, she felt like separating from him was more unsettling than coming together the way they just had.

  “What?” She did not want this to stop.

  “Je Suis désolé.”

  “What? I..”

  “I am sorry. I should not have done that.” Raleigh was feeling increasingly mortified as she realized her dress was hiked up and she was clearly being rejected. She had thrown herself at someone who responded and now thought better of it.

  “I started it. Don’t sweat it, Jean-Claude.” It was more biting than she meant to be. She wanted to ask what was wrong but decided the answer could make this moment even worse.

  “I got carried away. Please let me escort you back to your friends.” Her rough and tough French neighbor had turned into an extremely proper total stranger.

  “Forget it. I’m fine. That’s for your help getting me out here.” Raleigh could not find the door back to the bar fast enough.

  She did not look back and left Mace standing in the alley. She did not want him to see the hurt or embarrassment on her face. She just wanted out of the situation. Fast. She could not remember a time when a man rejected her, especially in a moment like that. It was humiliating. She knew a lot about humiliation these days.

  Raleigh’s friends were not ready to go home; both were still having a ton of fun. She all of a sudden was not. She did not have the heart to ask them to leave with her. She had done that too many times in the last year. Her problems should not hold them back she thought.

  She texted Alysha and Courtney and then waved when they looked at her with concern. She told them a headache was coming on but nothing more serious.

  She grabbed a cab and got out of there.

  She thought the biggest risk of embarrassment tonight would have been having a seizure at a cool club with her girlfriends. She could almost see herself drooling on the dance floor or something. It was what kept her home on countless other Fridays.

  Instead, she was embarrassed and surprised at her current predicament. Her face felt hot when she thought about the fact that her full on assault of Mace Alois was soundly rejected.

  Chapter Four

  Mace

  Merde! That was the hottest fucking kiss Mace had ever had. It was the hardest thing he had had to do in a long time stopping it in its tracks.

  Raleigh’s lips, her legs, her body, everything about her had him in knots and wanting more. But he could not have more.

  He watched her leave, to his dismay, without her friends, that was not safe he feared. He had hung back but kept her in his sights. She made her way to a cab and he felt better and worse at the same time.

  When you starve yourself and then have a taste of something succulent, only a taste, it makes the hunger that much more intense. He had almost forgotten to want. But Raleigh changed that in an instant. He was hungry for her.

  He knew she was coming in for a kiss. The sweet peck she had intended started so innocently. But as soon as her lips touched his flesh instinct took over logic. It was selfish of him. He just lost his mind for a moment. But that moment was enough to cause the want. Wanting was the worst feeling in the world, next to losing.

  Getting involved with a woman could get them both killed. He had to remember that. He had to remember the last time he felt so fucking turned on it - the last time ended in tragedy and with him on the run.

  He was not going to go through that again. It was bad enough he was hiding. It was not fair to drag someone else into it. Even though all he could think of was Raleigh’s lips.

  He spent a restless night replaying what he had almost done. What he should not have started.

  Mace could not stop thinking about how Raleigh’s leg wrapped around his, how her breasts felt soft against his chest, how he pressed into her hot little center. He tortured himself for a full night as her image wouldn’t leave his mind. He needed to get control of his fantasy of Raleigh or it would drive him crazy.

  The next morning a knock on the door beat his alarm clock. Well, screw it he hadn’t been sleeping anyway.

  Mace looked through the peephole and there she was. Raleigh. As if she had stepped out of his fevered dreams and right to his door.

  Her sexy dress from last night had been exchanged for a cutoff shorts and a t-shirt with the letters GVSU on it. She looked sexy in everything he decided. Her blonde hair was gathered at the top of her head in a floppy ponytail.

  What was she doing here? He opened the door without thinking about the fact he was shirtless and in underwear.

  “Yes?”

  “Nice outfit. Do you even own a shirt?” She looked him up and down.

  “I wasn’t expecting visitors this early on a Saturday.”

  “You may have forgotten our date, but I haven’t.”
>
  “Date?” Raleigh produced a paintbrush from her back pocket.

  “Aha. Yes. Payment for services.”

  “Yep, I don’t know how they do it in France, but we like to get cracking early here when we’ve got chores.”

  “Let me shower.”

  “No need, you’ll get dirty. I guarantee it.” She was still flirting with him. He had pushed her away, but she bounced right back. She was quite the little fighter. Her double entendre woke up him up in more than one way so he quickly turned his back to her.

  Merde, she was going to test his control.

  “Let me get some clothes at least.” He walked away shaking his head.

  “I would hope so you brazen hussy. I have coffee going at my place. Hurry up Mace, or is it, Jean-Claude!” She left him to find clothes and hide the evidence of his fierce attraction to her. He had promised to help her and help her he would. It would be much safer to give her money, but he’d offered this before he fully realized how much he wanted to kiss her neck.

  But so be it. He was going to have to spend the day near Raleigh Gibson.

  The door to her place was half-open and he walked in.

  “You should never leave this open.”

  “I normally lock it. Don’t worry. Here’s some coffee to get you moving.”

  Mace lifted the cup to his lips.

  “C'était terrible!” He muttered to himself.

  He swallowed it as fast as he could and looked around. Raleigh’s apartment floor was covered with tarps. He tried to be polite and continue to sip the coffee she had offered as she explained the project.

  “I want this wall to be an accent wall; I’ve got reddish umber or something like that. I am hoping it looks right. Anyway, I was bored with white walls in this place.” She grabbed a screwdriver and opened the paint cans while he struggled not to spit out the coffee.

  “Something wrong? You look sick.”

  “No, it is uh.”

  “You don’t like the coffee? Need milk? Sugar?” She asked.

  “No nothing will save it.” It was quite possibly the worst cup of coffee he had ever tasted.