Taking a Dare
Page 12
I couldn't get enough of his mouth, couldn't hold him tight enough or get close enough but I kept trying, not knowing or caring where we were.
It was our last kiss, one I was going to savor and hold in my heart and mind for the rest of my life.
As we pulled apart, I saw Dare's eyes go from soft and gentle to such a hard, brittle glare even as I felt his fingers dig into my skin.
"This is bullshit, Ryley! Fuckin' bullshit!" he said on a harsh whisper, staring deeply into me. "I'm a fuckin' Hellion, which means I live free or fuckin' die! Your fuckin' dad can't control me, can't take my motherfuckin' cut for wanting to be with you!" He yanked me to him, crushing me against his chest.
"Bullshit!" he whispered again only this time, his voice broke on the word.
The tears I'd been holding back at the thought of never being able to even touch him again spilled over and a sob escaped my swollen mouth. I needed to pull it together, needed to be the voice of reason because if what I thought was true, Dare was ready to do something drastic.
I swallowed thickly and moved my head on his shirt to dry my eyes.
"Come away with me, Ryley," he urged and I knew then he'd hit his limit. "Let's just grab our shit and go…"
"No, cowboy," I murmured, pulling my face away and using my hands on his chest to push back. "That sounds wonderful and fucking romantic as hell but that isn't us. Not the people we are or the people we want to be. The club is your life, Dare. Your family. The same as it is for me. You don't throw over your entire existence for a…for a…". God, I didn't even have a name for what had rekindled between us. "This was the best time in my life, blowing the hell out of our week before. But it's not something you give up a life for, cowboy. At least, I can't."
As I spoke, I saw the glare in his eyes recede as the light in them grew suspiciously flat. Was he listening to my words or to his own anger at the unfairness of it all?
"So you're fuckin' willing to let me go, just like that." Damn, now even his voice sounded dead, lifeless.
"I'm not willing to do anything except ensure you still have your brothers, the club and your job when I go back to Spokane," I tried to explain. "I'll work on my Pops but unless he sees we aren't together—"
"Fuck your father, Ryley," he announced, cutting me and my soft explanation off as he took a step back, releasing his grip on me. "This is bullshit and you're choosing to buy into it."
It was. And I was. But I felt like there was nothing we could do.
Which must've showed in my face because he took another couple of steps away from me. His hands went to his hips and he looked around the forecourt. "You need to go, sugar."
I twisted my body in the driver's seat without thinking about what I was doing. My eyes stayed on him, watching all sorts of emotions flash across his face as he stared at me. "Dare, please…"
"Just go, Ryley. Go back to your dad, your club and your life," he said with finality. As I turned the key in the Escalade's ignition, I thought I heard him say, "and I'll fucking try to live mine without you."
My eyes burned with the unshed tears I was holding inside as I tried to navigate down the long driveway and out into the street. I refused to look back, absolutely refused to even glance at Dare in the rearview mirror. I'd already done that once in my lifetime and I wasn't up to it again.
Fuck your father, Ryley.
I drove back to Lock's place in a fog, one so deep and so opaque nothing got in except the smell of Dare on my clothes, my skin. And the continued throb of the aching flesh between my legs, so sweetly and thoroughly abused, didn't help.
But the ache in my heart seemed to be the worst. The ache of knowing my father had set it up that way. Through threats and coercion he'd made it so that we couldn't even fuckin' explore what might have been. Had snuffed out even the promise of Dare and I together.
Shoving the gear shift into park, I let the big SUV idle as I tried to think, to get my thoughts, my priorities in order.
Fuck your father, Ryley.
Dare was right. It was bullshit. Complete and utter controlling bullshit guaranteed to keep me where daddy wanted me. Under his thumb and living by his rules, his edicts. All done, according to him, to protect me.
But it was my life! A life that was meant to be lived in order to learn, to grow even if it wasn't in the direction my father wanted me to go.
There was one thing my dad couldn't make me do, though, and as soon as I realized it, I shifted into reverse and turned back to watch the street as I carefully backed up to make my way to the Rosemont.
It was time to cut it off with March.
And, as per usual, I was planning my speech in advance. What to tell him and what to leave out. How to let him know that I would never marry him, but that I'd get the horribly huge-ass diamond back to him when we were back in Spokane.
And how to do it without mentioning Dare, my pops or to talk about March's alcoholism. Which I knew, and had known, was an issue even when he'd proposed. Although, if we were going to put it all to rest, March was a functioning alcoholic.
He could work his corner of the Hellion Construction HVAC market even when he couldn't drive at nine in the morning to a work site. He could convince both my dad and Leif that he was nursing one drink the whole night even though he had a bottle of whiskey stored at the bottom of the men's room wastepaper basket. Something I'd found right after he'd been made road captain, when it was my turn to clean the clubhouse since the Spokane recruits had been so few and far between. And it had been the smell of the cheap booze inside the bottle, the one that clung to March's clothes that had let me know, that completely explained, both his lapses in memory and his lack of sex drive.
Yeah, that particular vice, that addiction left a man less than in so many ways.
But did I need to make mention of it as I cut him loose?
Nah. But I'd sure as hell mention it to my father when I gleefully told him that March and I were through.
The desk clerk was quick to provide March's room number as I slid another twenty into the drawer beneath the double paned glass window that separated us.
"Just upstairs and it’s the third door on the right, miss," he'd said through our electronic connection of microphone and speaker.
Climbing the stairs, I again mentally reviewed all I wanted to say, all that need to be said before I stopped at door 217. I turned to gauge what time it might be from the angle of the sun that was just starting to hit the flaked paint of the railing and knew it was too early. But I had to get it over with, to be done with March so I could wrest a measure of my own life away from the control of my father.
Knowing March wouldn't likely rouse to a simple knock, I used the side of my hand to bang against the cheap wood of the door. And kept the movement going long after the social politeness of a basic three-knock was lost.
The door yanked opened and I saw Vegas's upper naked torso fill the doorway.
"Ryley?" she mumbled and blinked before shuffling to hide her store bought jugs behind the cheap wooden panel. "Uhm, what are you…I mean, I thought you were at Lock's?"
I just bet she did but the sight of her half naked in my fiancé's motel room didn't give me pause as I brushed by her to enter the dark space.
I'd always kind of known that March's type was more along the lines of Locke or Vegas—tall, lithe blondes—because it usually took him more than a bit to get hard enough to do the deed when he was trying to work it with me.
Even then, it was either doggy style or missionary, but my face had to be turned away from him as he fucked. Though we hadn't done it but a handful of times, I knew March didn't like me looking at him as he did his duty.
Did his duty. Crap! Why hadn't I realized it before? Nobody fucked me as their freaking obligation! Jay-sus. Maybe because I'd just come from Dare's bed, where I knew I was more than wanted, I could now finally see the difference.
And I wasn't going to fucking settle for anything less!
I glanced at Vegas who was cowering
against the back of the now closed door and my heart took a hit at what I recognized was the truth.
Yeah, screwing me was March's fucking responsibility in order to get ahead and was not done because of some overwhelming desire for me. March would do any and everything if he thought it would get him a higher position in the club. I was just another rung in his ladder to access the Hellion inner circle and powerbase. Vegas was the kind of woman he really wanted, what he needed in the times he could get it up.
While March wasn't a bad man, his ambition had, just like his alcoholism, colored my opinion of him and not in a good way.
My dad, though, loved him. And had mentioned on several occasions, too many to count, that March and I were a perfect match. "He's such a hard worker, girl," my dad had intoned on more than once never noticing how many trips to the Men's room the lean biker made or how his eyes always roamed the blondes in our club.
"Wake him up," I instructed Vegas and watched as she covered her bountiful chest with a crumpled t-shirt from the floor and went to where March was sprawled face down on the mattress. The air in the room stank of both alcohol and sex.
I watched but didn't listen as she tried to rouse her man— stuck in the fact he was not mine and, truly, never had been. The realization didn't hurt. No. But it there were traces of disappointment. Mostly at myself for continuing a ruse that had no business being in play in the first place.
Fuck you father.
As soon as March was up on his elbows, muttering a slurred, "wha', baby?" I was there.
In his face and all up in his grille.
"We're over, March," I instructed, making sure my voice was loud, sharp and hard. "I'm done with you. I'll give the ring back when we're in Spokane!"
"Wait? Rye? Wha' da fuck you doin' here, hellcat?" His eyes jerked around the room, seemingly of their own accord before settling on Vegas. "Oh, hey, baby. We doin' a threesome or somethin'?"
I couldn't help my snort and shot a glance to Vegas to see her twisting her hands and biting her lip. Oh yeah, in any other circumstance she'd be in deep shit. Up to her neck in the kind of trouble no Honey wanted but I wasn't aiming for that. To tell the truth, the girl had done me a solid by taking the drunk-ass, no account, social climbing bastard off my hands.
"It's all good, Vey," I murmured, knowing March either wouldn't hear me or if he did, my words wouldn't make sense to him. Turning back to the skinny man that barely even rounded the covers in the motel bed, I repeated myself only louder that second time.
"We're fucking done, March. No wedding, no forever, all right? I'll get the ring back to you when we get back to Spokane," I shouted, throwing a wink at Vegas over my shoulder. This was, I had to admit, turning out even better than I envisioned.
"Gonna be the preshidant by fucking nailing the prenshiss!" March yelled back, the evidence of his continued inebriation showing in his slurred speech.
"Yeah. Sure you are, stud," I pretended to agree and saw Vegas slip into bed next to him before she covered his mouth with two long-taloned fingers.
"He doesn't know what he's saying, Rye," she advised, her beautiful but black-liner smudged eyes seemed to be pleading. "You can't hold what he says against him because he's still fucked up from last night."
I smiled and whipped out my cellphone to capture the moment. Even before the flash had died away, I was moving towards the door. "Vegas? Honey? That piece of shit is always fucked up and doesn't deserve a girl like you. You can do better, girlfriend and I hope you do. No matter what, though, I'm done with him."
It was hateful to admit but I laughed all the way back down the hall to bang on my father's door. As soon as it opened to reveal a bleary eyed Dee, I shot my eyes to the bed to see an even blearier-eyed dad propped up on an elbow.
"Just wanted to give you a head's up, Pops," I called, keeping outside the opened door. "I broke it off with March. He's a drunk and only wanted me to get ahead in the club."
The only response I received was an eyebrow raise.
"Told you years ago, it was Dare or nobody!" I reminded him loudly. I was beyond caring if the other brothers heard me.
"Then I guess its nobody, little girl." He scratched at his chest hair, but the look on his face made his statement more of a question.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because if you don't marry March, you're not gonna get with the other because…" he started, his volume escalating as his narrowed eyes skewered me in place. "Here's how it's fucking gonna go down. You've gotta make a choice. It's your family and club or that motherfuckin' boy."
At his threat, I felt my jaw drop.
He couldn't be serious!
"Yeah, girl." His voice sounded almost victorious as he took in my stunned expression. "That's the way it is. You choose that motherfucker over March and it's over. You'll lose me and Leif as well as all of the Hellions, no matter what chapter."
"Pops?" I managed to whisper and hated how stricken my voice sounded.
"You want that little piece of shit? Then say good-bye to the rest of it, baby girl." His tone and body language were hard and harsh, grating along my insides. "Him, too. He'll be an outcast with nothing going for him. No job and no Hellion that'll take his back."
"Y-you can't do that, Daddy," I offered hesitantly, angry that I stuttered exposing my feelings. My mind was racing to come up with an argument, something valid that would circumvent his ultimatum—but I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"Oh, I can. And I most absolutely motherfucking will!"
My thoughts were whirling. My father was so certain that his way was the right way, the only way. But he'd always thought that, had always sought to control the things that he couldn't contain. But to threaten me with…and then to think he could pull Dare, my Dare, from all that he'd…
"You can't do that," I repeated, my mind spinning at the image of what the bleak future would hold for me and Dare if my pops had his way. "He's a good man and he's what I want. The only man I've ever wanted."
"Big fucking deal." I watched as he scooted himself up to rest his back against the cheap pressed wood of the motel's headboard. "His type are a dime a dozen. You don't like March?" He shrugged and I saw a 'no biggie' expression cross his face. "We'll find you something better."
"I already have better in Dare," I said as I fought against the ice that was beginning to surround my heart.
"You will never be with Dare. Not while I'm alive," he promised with a hard look and a chin lift.
I searched his face and found he was totally serious. My eyes moved to Dee, still holding the door open and saw she was watching us both through narrowed eyes that shot between us. She seemed pissed by my pop's words, which gave me the courage to speak again.
"Just so I understand," I started and caught Dee's gaze again. "If I choose to be with Dare then I'm no longer a Honey, Dare is no longer a Hellion and I'm no longer your daughter."
"That's about the fucking size of it, baby girl," my dad growled again spearing me with a harsh look.
Glancing at Dee once more, I realized even though me and my father were finally talking plainly, getting it all out in the open, I still had a choice.
I'd scraped off March.
And had boldly stated (for the four hundredth and eight-fourth time) that Dare was who I cared for, who I needed to be with.
"I still want Dare," I said through lips that felt almost frozen at the thought of what machinations my dad would instigate at my words. "He's always been the one for me and he's exactly what I need to complete my life."
This time, it was my father's face that held an expression of shock.
"So fucking disown me. Pull his cut and get him kicked out of the Hellions if that's what is required." I stated bravely, jutting my own chin out. "I think we can survive without you, Leif's or even the Hellion's approval."
A brief glance at Dee and I took heart at the approval in her eyes. But when my gaze went back to my dad's, I read furious resolve.
Did I care?
 
; Kind of.
Maybe.
Sort of though, to tell the truth, not very much.
"Got shit to do, Pops!" I yelled on a giggle that was totally faked and managed to flee down the hall to the stairs.
I'd never felt so fucking free in my entire life.
But I wasn't quite sure if I liked the feeling.
Chapter Seventeen
When he first opened his eyes, Dare was unsure where he was until he remembered that he'd grabbed a key and decided to catch a few zzz's in one of the clubhouse rooms before going to his desk. Once he'd established his 'where', his mind immediately went to the 'why' portion. Why he'd needed sleep and what had caused the lack thereof.
The image of Ryley in his bed, naked. Writhing on him as he fucked her hard while she'd whimpered and called out her pleasure. The mental picture, so clear and sharp in his mind found him reaching for his morning wood only covered by the sheet.
Christ! She'd been hot, hotter than he could've ever imagined and had obliterated all his previous fantasies of being inside her. The way she looked, smelled and sounded had blown him away. But when he'd finally, fucking finally, had slid himself into her tight, wet heat…
"Fffuuuccckkk!" he moaned, spilling himself over his abs as his cock throbbed in his hand. God. When was the last time he'd done a selfie? He couldn't remember because for years, when he had a need, he just grabbed a Honey.
He had to admit though, his stroking one out on just the memory of his girl had been more satisfying than a lot of his sessions with the women of the club.
But how could that be?
A fuck was a fuck, right?
A man got hard and when his blood was up, any pussy would do. At least, that was what he'd always believed and had said more than once. But something inside was calling bullshit on those previous statements.
And at that thought, he remembered the rest of it. Of her telling him they could only have the one night. Called what they had between them 'temporary' and without a future. Words that no longer held a sting but simply pissed him right the fuck off!