by Marie James
“Confusing? Just use your words, Lawson. It’s not that difficult.”
He chuckles, his hands easing up slightly on the steering wheel. “We’re going to my house.”
My eyes widen. “No, we’re going to go get a rental car.”
“You implied that I took advantage of you, or treated you less than you deserve because we fucked in the truck. I’m going to take you home, lay you out on my bed and make it better than anything you’ve ever had before. Make you forget every other encounter you’ve had before me.”
I wince at his words, wishing that he would be able to make me forget. Praying the amnesia took the guilt and self-recrimination right along with it.
“No.”
He looks over at me. “What do you mean, no?”
“Take me to get a rental,” I insist. “I have no desire to go back to your house.”
It wasn’t part of the plan, and resisting him after today is only going to be a million times harder.
“I waited two years for you.”
I do my best to ignore the pain and pleading in his voice. Walls up and defenses on high alert is the only way I know how to maintain imaginary control over this situation.
“Well,” I look out the window, hating myself. “I didn’t wait for you.”
And, God how I wish I had.
“I have a past, too,” he says with more understanding in his voice than I deserve.
“It was a one-time thing.” My body trembles in disapproval at my words.
“So you’re just going to fuck me then walk away?”
I don’t respond immediately, and my anger grows as I think about how offended he sounds.
Lowering my voice to sound more masculine I say, “I told you you’d suck my cock.”
He nods. As he swallows, I watch his Adam’s apple work under the pressure.
“So it comes back to that?”
“The last two years, all of my decisions have centered around the moment you made me feel like a whore,” I confess.
“I was hurting.” He holds his hand up when I try to respond. My jaw snaps shut, and I wait for him to continue. “Drew had just told me about his Aunt. I knew he was leaving, and I knew that meant I was going to leave with him.”
I huff. “So you just figured you’d get me on my knees before you took off?”
The truck jerks and rocks back as he puts it into park. Looking around, I realize we’ve made it to the car rental place. I’d been so lost in my own head, I hadn’t even noticed we’d traveled so far.
“You begged me to touch you,” he hisses as he shifts his weight to look at me.
I pull my eyes from his, the scrutiny of his gaze more than I can handle. “So I was a whore then, too.”
“You’re not a whore!” He rages. “I’ve never seen you that way. Not once since I met you have I let that thought cross my mind.”
“You manipulated me. You told me exactly what I needed to hear to get me to sink to my knees in that bedroom.”
“I figured you hating me would’ve been easier on you.”
“Hate.” I bite my lip to keep the sob from slipping out. “More like hating that I loved you.”
“Delilah.” He reaches for me, but I pull my hand away before he can make contact.
“Don’t worry, Lawson. I crushed that shit a long time ago.”
“I couldn’t ask you to put your life on hold for me,” he barters a few years too late.
Tears spill down my cheeks. “I would’ve,” I whisper.
“What?”
I look at him, not hiding my pain. I need him to see it, to feel it. “I would’ve waited for you.”
“I’m here now.” His eyes plead with mine, but there’s no use.
“It’s not even an option now. Too much time, too many bad decisions.”
I push open the door to the truck and climb down. When I reach back in to grab my purse, he once again reaches for me.
“Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Let me know when my car is fixed.”
I make it to the front door of the rental office before I feel his heat at my back. I’m torn between wanting him there and wanting him to leave me the hell alone.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of this myself,” I mutter as he reaches past me to open the door.
I walk through, and he follows behind me.
No one is at the front counter, so I tap the top of the small bell and wait. His warm breath is in my ear, and there isn’t a sliver of possibility that I can hide the tremble that takes over my body.
“I get that you’re hurt. I’ve felt the pain from that night just as much as you have. We’ve both made bad decisions, the wrong choices, but if you think you making some declaration and getting all growly and mad will make me walk away from you again, you’d be wrong.”
I try to turn, but he clasps my hips, pressing against my back until my front is flush against the tall counter.
“Listen,” I say softly as if I’m a negotiator talking him down off the ledge of a building. “We had sex. It was decent.”
He’s the one growling now.
“But it will never happen again,” I continue. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like with you. That opportunity presented itself today, and I jumped at the chance.”
“I’m going to be making love to you for the rest of my life.” There’s so much surety in his voice, I almost believe him. “There’s no getting rid of me this time, Princess. You’re stuck with me.”
Before I can respond, a tall man with a wiry beard comes to the counter.
“How can I help you?”
“Lawson O’Neil,” he says reaching over my shoulder to hand the guy a credit card. “We’re here to pick up a car.”
I glare at the red and black logo on the front of his card. The familiarity of the three-headed Cerberus dog on the front makes my heart skip a beat.
Lawson, feeling the tension in my shoulders moves to my side and looks down at me.
“That card,” I begin but don’t say another word.
He smiles and shrugs. “It has a great interest rate.”
The man at the counter takes the card and sweeps his eyes over me. “And will you, your girlfriend, or both of you be driving the car?”
“Not his girlfriend,” I spit at the same time Lawson says, “Only my girlfriend.”
The guy, Jerry if you believe his name tag, smiles at me and my explanation.
“Do you have a death wish?” Lawson watches Jerry, his tone no different than if he was asking the guy for a pen.
Jerry shakes his head, asks for my driver’s license and gets to work. I should be angry or mad, but the possessiveness, even when I’m confused, turns me on like nothing else.
Chapter 32
Lawson
My cards have been played, my hand dealt sooner than I’d wanted, but letting her drive away in that rental car without her knowing my intentions wasn’t a possibility.
My cock throbs as I inhale and pull her scent into my lungs. It’s the best kind of torture and nearly has me turning right instead of left. Heading to the shop rather than her apartment is an exercise in restraint that’s ten times harder now that I’ve had her.
Trying to ignore the insistence in my nuts, I do what I always do when I’m driving.
Dad answers on the second ring, his voice echoing around the cab of the truck through the hands-free.
“I forgot to tell you about my visitor when we spoke last night,” I say after we both deliver our hellos. “Are you familiar with the Ravens Ruin MC?”
“The name’s familiar, but I haven’t had any dealings with them personally. I can have Blade look into them.” I hear him mention the name to Rob. “Did they threaten you? Who did they send?”
“I had the pleasure of meeting Eric “Lynch” Quintal, the president. He didn’t threaten me, didn’t even tell me what he specifically wanted other than body mods for bikes.”
“Body mods
can mean a lot of things, son.”
“I know. I told him I was booked out and to get with me in a couple of weeks.”
“That was smart.” I smile at the nonchalant praise. “He didn’t give you any grief?”
“No, which surprises me. Joel told me after he left that he’d mentioned compartments for their wallets and jewelry.”
My dad’s laugh rings in my ears. “So they’re either running guns or drugs.”
“That’s my guess. Rhode Island has concealed carry, so there’s no reason for them to need to hide a weapon inside their bike.”
The weight of the pistol in my boot increases at my statement.
“I’ll have Blade look into them. Hopefully they’re just fishing to see if they get any bites around town, but let me know immediately if you see any of them hovering around.”
“I will,” I agree.
“And how’s Delilah?”
More gorgeous every day. The best thing that’s ever slid down my cock.
That’s the last thing I can tell him, but the reminder doesn’t keep the low groan from escaping my lips.
“Something you want to tell me?”
I clear my throat.
“Man to man?” I ask testing the waters.
“That’s always a good policy.”
No guts; no glory, right?
“I’m going to marry that girl someday.”
I’m met with silence, which I guess is better than him threatening to kill me from over two thousand miles away.
“Dad?”
“She’s not very fond of you,” he finally says amusement tinting his voice.
“I won’t give up.” I put my truck in park outside of the shop and run my hands over my hair. “She’s the one who made me want to be a better man.”
“She’s an amazing woman.”
“I don’t know where my life would’ve ended up had I not met her. Had I not met you and Rob.”
It’s his turn to clear his throat, but he doesn’t speak. I’m met with dead air so long I have to check the dash to make sure the call is still connected.
“Good luck, son.”
His voice, sounding much like his blessing, eventually sounds through the speakers.
I turn my gaze to look at her car, still in the first bay on the rack. “Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
“Before you go,” he begins. “Rob had Blade run an initial check on the Ravens Ruin MC. They’re not anyone you want sniffing around you. Feds are all over their asses.”
“Got it,” I say thankful he transitions so easily from my declaration and future plans.
“Take this seriously, son. These fuckers are sick, deadly, and nothing but trouble. Lynch got his name because his alleged calling card is hanging people from fucking trees in their family’s yards. You don’t need that kind of heat.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“Call immediately if you see anything suspicious. You’re not going to like this, but I need you to distance yourself from her. I don’t need them connecting the two of you. If you even get a Spidey tingle that something is off, you get her to the safe house.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep her away from the shop until I get the all clear.” I hear him speak away from the phone, more than likely to Rob. “And, as much as I love him, don’t tell Joel a damn thing. He runs his mouth too much. That poor bastard is living in the fifties. You and I both know times are much different now.”
I let the heavy silence and weight of his words wash over me. Stay away from her. Don’t tell the only person I’ve longed to see over the last two years a damn thing about what’s going on. My life just went to shit over a visit from some psycho, asshole biker.
“Did you hear what I said?” His voice isn’t exactly frustrated, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his voice that wasn’t there ten minutes ago.
“Yes, sir.” I swallow around the thick lump that’s formed in my throat. “If I’m being honest, it scares the shit out of me.”
Just the command to stay away from her for now, right after getting her back in my life, is like a sledgehammer blow to my chest.
“You’re a man. You can handle yourself. I have no doubt. But you would be a fool to not have a little fear in the back of your skull.”
“Delilah,” I whisper.
“She’s safest where she’s at right now, Lawson. It’s not for forever. A couple weeks tops.” His tone is sure and full of faith I don’t think should be placed on my shoulders. “Besides we’ll have something in place soon.”
Weeks? Damnit. I press the heel of my hand into my chest as the restriction grows tighter.
“Care to expand?” We’re talking about the safety of my girl. She may be reluctant to that idea, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
“I’ll let you know more when I know more.”
“Okay.” I can’t hide the defeat in my voice.
“Keep your head down, work, and I’ll call you when I know something.”
“Got it.” Overwhelmed with the news I just got, coupled with the fantastic sex, and weighed down with the oath I made to Delilah earlier, I end the call without even telling him goodbye.
I’m diligent in my duties the rest of the day, but I keep one eye on the door and my ears open for the rumble of motorcycles. My pulse quickened no less than three times. Twice when customers drove up on Harleys for scheduled work, and once when a lone rider cruised in front of the shop. He wasn’t wearing a cut, and I know for a fact that an MC member, especially one in a one-percenter club wouldn’t be caught dead on a bike without letting everyone know where his loyalties lie.
As much as it pained me, I went home after shutting down the shop and making sure the doors were secure.
“This shit has got to stop,” I mumble looking at the mess on the living room floor.
I reach down and pick up the pile of fuzz at my feet, then take a few feet and scoop up the carcass of the monkey that was in pristine condition when I left the house.
“What did he ever do to you?”
I hold the destruction in my hands. Per his usual, Raider has his forehead against the wall, the only sound he makes coming from the occasional thwap of his tail on the hardwood floor.
“You won’t chew on a rawhide or a tennis ball, but you maim every stuffed toy I bring in the house.”
I grin when he looks away from me, eyes down, thoroughly chastised. I drop the wreckage in the trash and walk over to him. His tail thumps harder on the floor.
“Did your mom drop you on your head when you were a pup?”
More tail thumping, only this time he actually puts some energy into it.
“I thought service animals were supposed to be regal and well behaved.”
His jowls flutter, popping against his teeth as if he knows I should know better than to expect more from him.
“Come here,” I call and slap my leg. He turns, jovial, all signs of remorse gone from his smiling face as he bounds the couple of feet across the room and nearly knocks me on my ass.
He licks my face, and I rub him all over as he squirms under my hands. When I snap my fingers twice, he’s all business again.
“Good thing,” I say reaching into the bottom drawer of the cabinet I have the living room TV on and pull out another monkey, “that I have a spare.”
His eyes dart from me to the monkey and back again. He’s begging, but after I’ve given him a command, he won’t break until I relieve him. Smiling, I pat my leg and toss him the monkey whose fate is sealed the second he catches it in midair and trots off with it between his teeth.
I click the TV on, turning to some random channel I can’t concentrate on. I need to shower. I’m filthy as hell, a deep, hard scrubbing the only thing that will get my hands clean, but fuck if I want to clean Delilah’s scent off of my body. Hell, I stood over the toilet at the shop earlier to take a piss and nearly sprayed the damn wall. When the delicate scent of her pussy made it to my nose, the good Lord couldn’t have
even stopped the erection.
Jaxon Donovan better get his shit together and quick because staying away from Delilah is going to be next to impossible, and waiting isn’t my strongest trait.
Chapter 33
Delilah
“Why are you frowning this time?”
I pull my eyes from my phone and look up at Ivy. The scowl on her face rivals the one that has marked mine for the last week.
“There’s a party near campus,” I mutter and slap my phone on the coffee table.
Tucking my legs up and resting my head on my knees, I watch her as she stuffs her purse full of lord knows what.
“And you didn’t get invited?”
I huff. “I’m always invited. It looks like it’s going to be a blast and yet I’ll be here, seeing as I promised to stop partying.”
“Such a travesty,” she mocks. “Now tell me the truth.”
My head lifts from my knees, and I look out the window.
“No clue what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that crap.” Sitting down on my left she forces herself into my line of sight. “You’ve been grumpy for days.”
“I haven’t,” I argue.
Her eyebrow cocks up, and she gives me the look, the one that says she knows I’m full of shit and I just need to spill it.
“I’m pretty sure it has everything to do with Lawson. You told me he took you to get the rental, but something else happened didn’t it?”
“I’m going to be making love to you for the rest of my life,” says the man who then never calls or stops by.
I close my eyes, but the heat of her gaze burns hot on my face. She’s relentless, and I know she won’t give up.
I squeeze them tighter, the sting of the tears I allowed on the drive back from the rental place renewed with thoughts of him.
“We had,” I begin, but stop short. “We fucked in his truck.”
“He had sex with you in a truck?” I can hear the disdain in her voice, and for some reason, it rubs me the wrong way.
“I fucked him in his truck.” I don’t question the defense of his honor. I can hate him all day long. I can regret the things we did, a week ago as well as back home, but I won’t put the blame on him for something of my own doing. I won’t let anyone else do that either.
