Temper: Road Roses MC

by Ada Stone

  I wasn’t one of those girls who got pregnant at nineteen and ruined the rest of her life.

  Worrying on my lower lip, I knew that there was a decision to make. I was two months pregnant, that much was clear. And I knew who the father was. I’d only been with one man since returning from college, and more than that, I hadn’t been with anyone my second semester there. I’d partied plenty, but hadn’t let anyone get into my panties, though plenty had tried.

  That meant that the father was undoubtedly Luke, the Road Rose.

  Which was good, I told myself. A guy like Luke wasn’t someone who wanted to settle down or start a family. He wasn’t the kind of man who was going to want to put a ring on my finger or tell me he loved me or try to paint some picture with a white picket fence, two point three kids and a dog. No, he’d agree with the choice that I was going to have to make.

  There was no way I could keep the baby.

  The thought caused my stomach to squirm a little uncertainly, but I knew it was the truth. If I kept the baby, there would be no going back to school in the fall. On the surface, that seemed like the best thing that could happen to me. It sounded like the gift I’d been begging for—to not go to business school. But I wasn’t so naïve as to think that it was all that simple.

  Despite protesting against my father and fighting him every step of the way to convince him that I didn’t want to take over his business, I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t get away from it. I would have to go to business school. I would have to take over his business. Why? Simple: it was all his money. Every last dime. I didn’t have the experience in the real world to go out and get a decent job, and if I tried, my father would toss me out on my ass instantly. And even if he didn’t, how long would I be able to work while I was pregnant? And then as a single mother? No, I would never make enough to survive, and I knew my father well enough that he wouldn’t support me if I kept the baby. In fact, he’d probably disown me the second he discovered I was pregnant.

  A shiver of fear raced through me. I couldn’t let him know. I had to take care of this myself. But that was the problem, I didn’t have the money to do that.

  “What am I going to do?” I asked the mirrored reflection of me.

  I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to get rid of the damn baby. I could get it taken care of and no one would ever have to know.

  Except for me, I thought, but then forcibly pushed that thought aside. I would not feel guilty for this. Accidents happened. It didn’t have to wreck the rest of my damn life just because of one lousy mistake.

  The first thing I did was start making calls. I had to look at places outside of Mount Rose that would do abortions, because obviously I couldn’t have it done here. Mount Rose was growing, but a lot of the small town mentality remained. If I had any hopes of keeping this a secret, I’d have to go outside the general Mount Rose area to do it.

  I found several places that were a couple of hours outside the city limits. They were nearby some decent hotels and I had already begun to work out a story for my father to explain what I was doing. A fun trip with my friends before the summer was over and I went back to school. I grimaced, but accepted that I would have to throw him that bone. By agreeing to not put up a fight about going back to school, I would secure dad’s support. He wouldn’t question a last, fleeting fun summer with friends. I’d get Rihanna and Stephanie in on it, though I wouldn’t tell them the real reason for the trip. I’d fake getting sick, then slip out to have it down—according to the lady I spoke with, the operation didn’t take very long. I’d be back before they even realized I was gone. Then I’d take a couple of days to recover, we’d all lament how sick I was the whole trip, and when I came back, no one would be any the wiser.

  It was a perfect plan. There was only one problem with it: money.

  The procedure was expensive. Not unreasonable given my family’s financial condition, but since I couldn’t tap in to any of those resources without my father getting suspicious, I might as well have been dirt poor.

  Maybe I can get him to believe that there’s something going on that needs cash? I considered in my head, trying to work out how to get the money for the procedure without using a credit card. Dad would get the statement and see what it was listed as. He was meticulous about purchases, checking each and every one of them even when he knew what they were. There was no way I could get away with using the card.

  I fell back on my bed, clutching my stomach. How could this have happened?

  It was all a huge, glaring mistake, but there was no taking this one back. Not unless I came into some quick cash and fast. I could ask Rihanna and Stephanie, but I didn’t trust them not to say anything. Stephanie was queen of gossip. Rihanna? Well, she was just too conniving. I didn’t think she would try to use this against me, but at the same time I wouldn’t put it past her.

  No, I would have to get the money somewhere else.

  That was when I made the decision to figure out where Luke lived. If anyone would be just as happy to get rid of the baby as me, it would be him.

  …

  It took me two days to track him down. It wasn’t that difficult to figure out where the Road Roses worked out of. They owned a tattoo parlor downtown that my father had been trying to shut down since it opened called Wicked Rose. It was listed as one of the legal enterprises governed by the Road Roses, a matter of public information. That wasn’t the tricky part. The tricky part was finding Luke.

  Maybe it should have been easy to just waltz into Wicked Rose like I belonged there and ask for Luke, but it wasn’t. Not for me. Part of that was that most people recognized me as the mayor’s daughter. Normally, that was sort of a good thing. It got me all kinds of freebies. It was a good deal. But it also meant that when my father decided to go after someone, that someone knew who I was and wasn’t very happy about it.

  And just my luck, my father hated the Road Roses. I’d chosen Luke deliberately for that reason, I reminded myself, but it still seemed like absolutely rotten luck that things would wind up like this.

  As a result, I wasn’t interested in checking out the Wicked Rose and asking about one of their members. I was slightly afraid it might get me beaten up or something. Dad was always saying they were a dangerous, rowdy bunch. I hadn’t ever really thought that until now when I had to face them on their own turf.

  Ultimately, I ended up standing outside the Wicked Rose for forty-five minutes trying to decide what to do, then leaving without having even gone inside, much less spoken to anyone. That was when I got the brilliant idea.

  I’d call them. Tell them I was an ex who had gotten knocked up and that I needed to speak to Luke. I wasn’t sure if they needed all that information, but it would make them more likely to tell me where he lived, right?

  I hoped so.

  “Wicked Rose, tattoo shop, this is Garrison speaking,” came a gruff voice through the receiver when I called.

  I hesitated. Did I really want to do this? I have to do this! “Yes, I’m calling because I…I need to find Luke?”

  There was a pause. “Who is this?”

  I didn’t want to give him my name. It wouldn’t help anyway since I’d never told Luke what it was, so he wasn’t going to recognize it. “Um, it’s…it’s Lia. We were, um, together the other night and I, um, was wondering…” I had never been so flustered, so rambling and nervous in my life. I always had it together and yet somehow in this moment, talking to this gruff man over the phone, I was completely and utterly hopeless.

  “Lia, eh?” he said, and I thought there might be a chuckle in his voice somewhere. “Well, honey, what you need to get a hold of him for? You lose his number or something?”

  I bit my lip. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d never gotten it. That sounded tacky and like it wasn’t going to get me Luke’s address. Letting out a sigh, I went with my original plan and told him the truth. Most of it. “We were together, but it wasn’t serious. But I, I’m…” I broke off, searching for what to say, really
not wanting to mention the pregnancy, then blurted, “We really connected and I think I have a chance with him. I just need to talk to him.”

  There was another pause, then I heard a laugh on the other end, a jovial, booming sound that surprised me. “Well, he hooked himself one, did he? Tell me, honey, you that blondie? The one he liked so much from the bar?”

  I blushed profusely and was grateful that it was over the phone so he couldn’t see. That blondie? From the bar? Had Luke been talking about me? I’d been mostly kidding about the connection. Yes, we’d had a wonderful, intense night together, but I didn’t think either of us had expected anything long term from it. I still didn’t. But it was interesting that he had mentioned me.

  “Yes, that’s me,” I finally told the man, hoping it would be enough to get me an address.

  “Alright, honey. I’ll tell you where you can find him.”

  He gave me an address, one that I was pretty sure was his home address, which surprised me. I didn’t think that would be the sort of thing they’d give out. Then again, he was also a dangerous biker. Probably no one went snooping around his place, looking to cause him problems.

  I thanked Garrison, then hung up the phone, feeling butterflies fill my stomach like I was a kid about to get on stage for the first time.

  But I went to the address later that day just the same.

  When Luke opened the door for me, I was struck once again by how handsome he was. He was wearing those leather pants again and this time he had on a heather gray t-shirt to match it. It said Wicked Rose across it. It was tight against his broad shoulders, outlining the firm muscles of his arms and the flat plains of his chest.

  I had half imagined that I’d been so desperate to get back at my father, that I had only thought he looked incredibly attractive. Now I was sure it wasn’t only my perception that night. He just was that sexy.

  He invited me in and I was left with that dreadful moment where I had to tell him. “I’m pregnant.”

  For a long time, he just stared at me. His eyes were wide, those dark pools as depthless as ever, inviting me to drown in them. His full lips were slightly parted and he looked just absolutely flabbergasted. I’d caught him off guard and that really wasn’t a surprise.

  There was silence for such a long stretch that I was beginning to think he wasn’t going to say anything, either because he was in shock or because he couldn’t figure out why my being pregnant would bring me here. I sincerely hoped it wasn’t the latter of those two. But in the end, he did say something.

  “Pregnant? Are you sure?”

  I actually laughed at him. “Would I have shown up on your doorstep if I wasn’t?”

  “Good point,” he conceded. We fell into silence again, then he gestured to the couch. “You wanna sit down?”

  I glanced at the couch. It was old and lumpy, and had probably seen more than one of his conquests. Did I really want to sit on it? Folding my dress up beneath me, I took a risk and did so. He came to sit beside me. Not right next to me, but close enough that I was aware of the ripples of his strong, muscled body. It was hard not to be.

  “It’s yours,” I blurted, because it suddenly occurred to me that maybe he was with a bunch of women and thought that women did the same thing, that this baby could have belonged to anyone.

  He raised a single dark eyebrow at me, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, like he wanted to smile at me. I felt my heart thump in response, thinking that that smile might be a real sight to see. I blamed it on my mood swings, the breathless feeling I was having, and shoved the thought aside.

  “I believe you,” he told me simply.

  A little of my nervousness eased. At least he wasn’t going to just treat me like I was some lying whore, that was definitely something. I knew that I had to keep the ball rolling, that I had to tell him why I was here and how much money I would need for the abortion. But I just couldn’t quite make myself spit it out yet. I couldn’t say why.

  “What’s your name?” he finally asked, throwing me off.

  I almost asked him why he wanted to know, but instead I simply answered, “Lia.”

  This time he did smile, as though thinking something to himself. “Lia. That’s a pretty name. I should have asked you that night.”

  His eyes darkened with desire and I knew that he was thinking of the things we did that night. I was thinking of them, too. The way he eagerly buried his face between my thighs, tasting me and fondling me until I erupted in an explosion of pleasure that I couldn’t rein in. The way he slid himself inside me, filling me so completely that there was no more room for anything else.

  Oh, yes, I’d thought about our encounter a time or two.

  My cheeks reddened and my heart sped up as I tried not to look down at his crotch to see if he was aroused. I was aroused, though I wouldn’t tell him that. So much of what I was feeling these days was hormonal mood swings, so I didn’t want to put too much stock in them, but there was no denying that I was turned on by him.

  “Well, we weren’t really doing a lot of talking,” I finally answered him a little breathlessly.

  He let out a low, gravelly laugh that sent shivers through my body. “No, we weren’t. We were pretty occupied with other things, but I still should have. Maybe before I buried my face between your thighs and started tongue fucking that pussy of yours.”

  My eyes widened. Instantly, I felt hot and bothered and like I wanted to jump onto his lap and ride him to completion. But I shoved that thought away. I shouldn’t like him saying vulgar things like that, though it was clear that I did. “You can’t just say things like that,” I admonished, but found that my voice came out more light and teasing than anything else.

  He grinned at me like the cat that ate the canary. “No? You want me to stop, baby? ’Cause I have a few other things I could share with you…”

  I shook my head, standing abruptly. His eyes followed me. “I come here to tell you I’m pregnant and all you want to do is fuck?” I asked incredulously.

  He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Pretty much. Don’t you?”

  I hesitated, and he noticed. His grin widened and he reached out one of his large hands for me to take. I hesitated, not sure where he was going with this, but then put my own in his. He wrapped his large fingers around my much smaller ones, then jerked me towards him. I let out a yelp as I tumbled and fell into his lap, my legs parting automatically to straddle him, mostly to try and brace myself for the landing. I caught my breath and found my face inches from his, his lips close enough to mine that all I’d have to do was lean forward and inch to press our mouths together in what I knew would be a searing kiss.

  He grinned wickedly at me. “Since you’re already pregnant, it’s not like I can make things worse,” he teased, his hands going to my hips and adding a slight pressure so that I slid a little closer to his crotch. When I was nestled firmly on his lap, I felt that he was hard beneath me. I remembered how hard he’d been that night, how deep he’d plunged inside of me, how he’d made sure that I found my release fist.

  I blushed harder. This was not how I had pictured things going. I felt myself considering giving in to his temptation. After all, he was right, I was already pregnant. But then I reminded myself that my reckless behavior with him was what had landed me in this position in the first place. I forced myself to be serious, to keep a level head. I wouldn’t let desire rule me, even though I wanted it to. Putting my hands on his chest, I stalled him as he pushed himself towards me, his mouth aiming for mine. “Wait. Please. We need to talk about this. This is my life!”

  My pleas must have swayed him, because he paused. The teasing, hungry smiled dropped from his lips, though he didn’t move away. He just studied me for a minute, looking over my features like he was reading a book. Maybe he was, maybe I was that easy to read. “Okay,” he said finally. “What do you want to do, then?”

  I worried at my lower lip. Saying it out loud was somehow harder than anything else. “I…I want…” I
shook my head, trying to clear it. Taking a breath, I tried again. “I’m here because I need help paying for the…I need to get rid of it. My life will fall apart if I keep it.”

  It was somehow much more terrible to say out loud, but I couldn’t take it back, and in the end, it didn’t matter if I could. It was still the truth.

  Chapter Seven

  Luke

  She was straddling my lap, a knee on either side of my thighs, her core pressing ever so slightly over my growing erection. I wanted to fuck her. As soon as she’d walked in through that door, I’d wanted to fuck her, though the promise of bad news had stayed that desire. But then she’d told me and…it wasn’t such bad news. It wasn’t the end of the world as I’d presumed based on the look on her face.