Going Down Easy: A Rebel Wayfarers MC & Incoherent MC Crossover Novel

by MariaLisa deMora

  Then he’d hauled her to a famous hotel in downtown Memphis, another surprise stop Jock had organized because the place had a flock of ducks that waddled from the lobby into the elevators and back again every day, going to and from wherever it was they lived.

  Last winter he and Silly had bundled up and gone to Franke Park on a bracingly cold day and fed the ducks and geese. He’d bought grain and pellets ahead of time, because during a conversation one weekend she’d gone on and on about how angry it made her that people thought the waterfowl could live on a diet of bread. The look on her face when he’d handed her the bag of goodies for the feathered beasts had been soft and sweet, and worth stepping in any number of piles of goose shit.

  Today when they’d walked into the hotel lobby, she’d seen the ducks, whirled in place, and given him that same look. Soft and sweet, and so full of love he’d wanted to ravish her right there. He’d settled for a quick brush of his mouth against hers before her whispered, “You are so getting laid tonight,” had him hustling through check-in and up to the room with their bag.

  “Right”—she sighed, whined softly, and kissed his neck on a plea—“there. Right…there. Please.”

  Jock tipped his neck, dipped his head, and curled around her just a little more. Hips working fast, he was taking her hard, but the wet between her legs and the way her pussy clutched at him said she not only didn’t mind, she was into it as much as he was. The seducing sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through their room. She bowed her back, tipping her ass, and he slid deeper on a groan.

  “God damn, Sylvia.” She had one hand on the headboard, elbow locked, holding fast against his thrusts, pushing back to take him harder. “You’re so fucking everything.” He looped an arm around her waist, pulling her onto him, then slid his hand across her belly, slipping his fingers through her sleek wet, seeking and finding the piercing he sought. She gasped when he flicked hard, then keened, high and breathless, when he teased and twisted, pressing her hood into her clit with one fingertip. “Come all over me, baby.”

  With a soft, garbled cry of his name, she did.

  He slowed, giving her time to take in what he’d given to her, and when her mewls had turned back to whimpers, powered up again. “So fuckin’ hot, baby. Never had anything like what you give me. Never, baby.” He reared up, hand on each of her hips as he guided her movements, watching her toss that hair he loved so much, colorful against the white of the hotel sheets, skin silkier than those same expensive sheets, her dark against that stark white giving him a view to brand into his brain, something to keep forever. “Never, baby. I’m there, baby.”

  “Go, Jake.” She panted, breaths separating the words. “Go, baby. Love taking you like this. Love you.”

  Those words, something he’d never expected to hear from her lips, slashed deep inside him. Something he’d known from how she looked at him, from how she was with him, but hearing it—he grunted, groaned, and absorbed the shock of electricity that entered him where he was buried inside her, curled around his balls, up his spine, and exited his mouth on a growled, “I fuckin’ love you, too.”

  She contorted her body, neck arching so she could look at him, and blinked, that damned soft look overlaying her face. “Baby.”

  He didn’t say anything else, holding tight to her body, thumbs smoothing over the curve of her ass as his hips moved erratically, chasing the electricity again, sparkles of it flaring from his dick to the top of his head, scalp crawling with the feeling. He didn’t say it, but he looked straight at her, staring hard, hoping she saw it in his face like he could hers, hoping he was an open book she wanted to read. Someone she wanted to take to bed every night, folded around her like he always did, keeping her warm, safe, and loved. So much love.

  He bent, pressed his lips to her shoulder, brushing up in a caress until he had to leave her skin to capture her mouth. Tongues slipped and slid in a slow, timeless dance. She shivered under him, the chill of the air conditioning stealing heat from her sweaty body, even covered as she was by him. On a whisper he told her, “You get in the bed. I’ll be back.” She’s so fuckin’ pretty. He gave her a peck, then another before pulling back. “Gotta deal with the rubber.” Corner of her mouth still curled in that soft smile, Silly nodded. “Back in a minute, baby.” He anchored the condom on his dick as he pulled out, then curled his hand around her pussy, cupping and massaging. Stripping the condom off his cock, he asked, “You okay, Sil?”

  “Yeah, Jock. I’m good.” She sighed, and he gave her hips a shove, toppling her sideways in the bed. That earned him a giggle.

  Jock paused in the bathroom doorway. Silly was already under the covers and smoothing them down her body, the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. She held his heart, and he knew now, he held hers.

  I can’t fuckin’ do this.

  “I’ll be back.” She looked up, the flash of a piercing telling him she’d cocked a brow. “I can’t not, baby.” Her expression sharpened as she realized he was talking about more than this moment, but she didn’t respond. Didn’t move. “I know I said it.” He shook his head. “But I can’t. I’ll be back. I’ll find a way to make it work.” He twisted and tossed the rubber into the trash, then turned back to her. “You want it, I’ll make it happen.”

  “Do you want that, Jock?” Her voice was strong, stronger than he’d expected. Her gaze never left him as she prompted, “Do you?”

  “Fuck yeah. Thoughts of leaving you in a few days are tearing me up, Sylvia. You want it, want me? I’ll figure out a way.”

  The silence stretched between them, the mood growing heavier with every breath. Fuck. He’d read her wrong. What she’d said, it was in the moment they’d been in, no more. I can’t hold her to that. Can’t fault her. Won’t do that to her. What he’d said stood, and if she believed anything, he knew she’d hold those words close.

  “I want it.”

  His breath gusted out in a rush of relief.

  Her hands moved slowly, delicate fingers dancing across the linen as the covers got smoothed again. “More than I can say, Jake. It’s been—” She choked on a laugh and turned her head to the side. “The best and worst weeks of my life.”

  Her admission only made him more determined. “I’m gonna find a way to get you only that best part from here on out, Sylvia.”

  Soft and plaintive, she asked, “Why are you still so far away?”

  Two strides had him at the foot, one knee in the bed beside her feet, and then he was planked over her, forearms shoved into the mattress on either side.

  She stared up at him, then told him again, “I love you, you know that?”

  Relieved, so relieved he felt like he was flying, Jock teased her gently. “You told me once you didn’t do love.”

  She gave him a watery smile and cupped his cheeks. “I didn’t know love.”

  He lost himself in her kiss, let it grow between them until she was whining, teeth working at his lips.

  Mouth to her ear, wrapped up in her arms, he promised, “You do now.”

  ***

  Silly

  She soothed cream across Jock’s back, taking care at all the places where the wounds she’d driven into his skin hadn’t yet healed. He stirred restlessly, muttering, “Itches.”

  “It will for only a couple more days, max. It looks—” She swept her gaze from the tops of his shoulders to the curve of his ass. “Amazing. I’m very pleased.”

  It was time to pack their little bag and get on the road. They would arrive at the apartment by midafternoon, and then she’d be an official resident of Louisiana. As he’d promised, even this trip had been filled with beauty and happiness, with Jock surprising her every step along the way.

  “You ready, baby?” He twisted away from her, rocking to one hip and pushing up on a locked arm. Reaching out, he fluffed her hair, then swept it over her shoulders and slipped the backs of his folded knuckles across her cheek. The stitches were gone, but the scar was still stark and red, raised and angry looking. He di
dn’t care, had told her as much when she offered some scar cream, smiling at her as she fussed over him.

  “Yeah. I’m set.”

  “Lemme grab a tee and we’ll be ready to rock and roll.” He exited the bed on the other side, hitched his jeans, bent to their bag and pulled out a gray T-shirt. She watched him tug it over his head, holding it out in the back so it didn’t drag across his tender back. Jeans still unfastened, hanging off his hips, tee molding to his body, she stared at him as he moved to finish dressing. “What?” he asked as he put on socks, then dealt with the jeans, finally shoving his feet into his boots.

  The profound feeling unspooling inside her chest couldn’t be contained, and it spilled out in the form of terrifying words she didn’t try to stop.

  “I love you, Jake Tinney. Moon and back, you’re the one for me. I hope you know that. I hope I can give that to you so you don’t question it. I don’t know how we’re going to—” She broke off, because he was moving towards her with purpose, brows drawn down over his eyes. She picked back up, talking faster to get it out there before he shut her down. “How we’re going to make this work. I don’t know. But you told me you’d make it work, and I believe you. You’ll tell me what you need from me, and I’ll do it. Want me to turn this gig down, even now? I’d do it.”

  Silly said no more because he’d closed her mouth with his, arms tight around her waist and shoulders. He bent and lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as far as she could, arms around his neck. The kiss went on and on, dwindling down to sweet glides and pecks and she’d do something, make a noise, and he’d be gone again, taking her soaring right alongside him.

  He broke away finally, burying his face against her neck. On a mutter, he told her what he was feeling, and it took her breath away again.

  “I hated sleeping these past weeks, didn’t want to miss a moment with you. Didn’t matter I was gonna dream of you. Holding the real thing in my arms made more sense. Go to work sleepless, see you everywhere. That damn mug you bought me, the calendar you got me, the set of metric tools you knew I’d never buy—you’re everywhere in my life, and I like it that way, baby. We get to your apartment, maybe I don’t leave. Maybe I do, but it’s just to take care of what I gave my word I’d do, take that bike back north. Maybe I do, and it’s for a couple of weeks to settle my shit, and figure what the club’s going to need from me. Doesn’t matter if I leave or not, I’m still right here, and you’re with me. Everywhere.” His tongue trailed a hot path up her neck until he traced the curve of her ear. “I don’t know what the next couple of weeks hold, but I know without a goddamned doubt that I fuckin’ love you, Sylvia Perez.”

  It took her a moment, but once she’d gathered herself and was certain she wouldn’t burst into tears on the spot, she arched up and put her mouth near his ear, and gave it back to him. “I’m on you, Jock. When you look at it, you’ll see everything, including my love for you.”

  ***

  Gunny

  “Man’s a natural, eh.” Jase lounged back, tipping his chair up on two legs. “You should see Jock at the rink with the kiddos. He’s already been working on fundamental skills with four different age groups and killing it.” He pumped a fist, then held it up for Gunny to give him a pound. “Killing it.”

  “That’s good, then. Glad you talked to him about it. Got you some help finally.” Gunny rose from his chair and strolled the ten feet to the grill, lifting the lid to check the progress on the chicken breasts and pork chops he was cooking. “Who’s at the rink tonight, with him gone and you here?” A heavy sigh from behind him made Gunny turn to find Jase’s chin tipped up, eyes on the barely visible glimmer of stars overhead. “What?”

  “Jock, man, he’s been through hell and back, you know?” Gunny nodded, staying quiet so Jase could get whatever was on his mind out into the air, where together they could tackle it. “Man’s been through all that, you’d expect the universe to cut him some slack, eh? Bitch is shitting on him big-time.”

  “You mean the deal with Silly?” Jase nodded and Gunny returned his attention to the grill, using the tongs to flip over the pieces of meat. The pop and sizzle filled the silence for a moment, then he heard the sweet faraway sounds of children’s laughter drifting from the house. He closed the lid and stalked back to his chair. Tank the Larger rested next to it, and the mastiff lifted his massive head as Gunny sat. He reached out and ruffled the dog’s ears, selecting his words carefully. Jase was his brother-in-law as well as his brother, and he loved him, but Jase could be touchy about how entitled so much of his life had been. “Jock’s a good man who’s had a shit hand dealt out to him. Fate, the universe, or what-the-fuck-ever you wanna call it, doesn’t give a shit about whether it’s fair or not. She’s not about balance, not in the short term, at least. But he deserves more. You got that right in one, brother.”

  “You should see him with the kids, man. He’s so good. One of the good ones, eh. He’d make a hell of a dad, if he and Silly stuck it out. Maybe she won’t be gone forever.” Jase’s voice carried a note of wistfulness, and Gunny knew his own disbelief showed in his expression when Jase’s mouth twisted down. “They’d make pretty kids between them.”

  Gunny looked towards the house, fingers still working across Tank’s head in even strokes. Sharon stood in the kitchen window, head turned to the side—and from the intent expression on her face, she was watching one of their kids doing whatever miraculous feat they’d dreamed up today. “I know it’s not your thing, and that’s good, because your thing isn’t my thing. I’d never be able to deal with the tribe you’ve got roaming through your house any given day.”

  Jase snorted a laugh and Gunny glanced over at him, feeling a grin tipping up the corners of his mouth. Jase and his woman DeeDee had adopted an orphaned family of kids tied to the club, then fostered others as needed.

  “Jock thought he had a chance at that once. You’ve heard about what his wife did to him?” Jase nodded. “Once a man longs to see his eyes on a child’s face, nothing else measures up. He can make do, working at the rink like he is, that’d help, for sure. But deep down? I do not doubt that’s his ask. And with how he loves Silly, has loved her for this long? You know he’s carried that wish with him, deep inside. I don’t see him giving up on that.”

  “I don’t either, eh.” Jase stretched and thumped the chair’s front legs down to the ground, startling Tank into a deep, rumbling groan. “This trip is supposed to be his last goodbye, from how he described it.”

  Gunny grunted, folded his hands behind his head, and stared up at the stars like Jase had been a minute ago, the sky a deeper indigo already. He knew how it was to love a woman worth everything, and he couldn’t imagine Jock giving it up. “I’ll believe that shit when I see it.”

  “I already lined up another coach.” Jase’s statement held regret sharing space with hope. “I like Jock, and he’s good with the kids. Gives me satisfaction to see him like that.” He shrugged. “But DeeDee likes my ass at the table for supper.”

  “Now that—” Gunny chuckled and smiled when he felt the heavy weight of Tank’s chin on his thigh. “That, I’ll believe.”

  Shit Happens

  Jock

  He surveyed the section of neighborhood he could see from the patio of Silly’s new apartment, then looked back inside at what had been a jumble of boxes just two days ago and was now at least a temporary home. She was month-to-month on the lease, giving her time and room to look for a permanent place. “Baby,” he called out, grinning as she leaned around a corner from the kitchen to aim a questioning look at him. “This does not suck.” She rolled her eyes and disappeared again.

  They were in Hammond, not New Orleans, which was fine with both of them. The city was close enough for a night out but far enough that Hammond felt more like a small town, something he was a huge fan of.

  Her new shop was fucking awesome. After some discussion, they’d made it the first stop when they hit town, and Jock had enjoyed watching his woman wal
k in, rubber-soled sneakers muted on the floor, voice soft as she introduced herself around, and seeing the respect, quiet but there, from every artist in that building to her.

  Her skills were known, seeing as she’d been on Ernesto’s show more than a dozen times in one season alone. With how she approached them, collaboratively instead of gagging for the authority granted by the position she’d be assuming, he’d watched as something more important than appreciation for her skills started to develop—admiration for her as a person. In those first few hours, she’d laid a strong foundation, then made time every day to sit down with each of the artists. All of them. The ones who’d be working for her, sure, but also the ones renting chairs, a gesture he’d seen was valued.

  “Thought we’d go out tonight.” He was down to only four days before he had to pick up the bike and roll north. No matter their long goals had changed, he had to stick to the short-term plan for now. There was no good solution in sight, and a telephone approach to Gunny had earned him a “fuck you” and a disconnect, which told him how his brother felt about him leaving town, and by necessity, leaving the RWMC.

  “You pick a place already?” Her voice floated from the apartment and Jock smiled. This, just this, would be worth everything. Having a conversation with his woman about going out after a long day, not wanting her to cook for him, because she’d been on her feet and on her ass in a chair talking about business details, personalities, costs, and laws until she’d said her head was swimming when she got home.