Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series

by Melissa Devenport

  “Well, this is it.” Shanna looked down at her feet before she looked back at him. “Thanks again. For everything.”

  “Everything?” Impossibly enough, he nearly smiled again.

  That pretty pink stain of a blush was back on her cheeks. She was shyer, when she wasn’t quite so drunk. He had the feeling if she hadn’t had those drinks she never would have spoken a single word to him, even if she wanted to. And it was pretty damn astounding that she’d even considered it.

  “I- I guess so. It was good. You know- before I blacked out.” She laughed at herself, wryly. Her smile and her laugh were contagious.

  He found himself lifted, found himself in a place where it was just him and her. Neither of them had a past. For that moment, there was no bullshit. No cheating partners, no breakups, no gang, no father who was supposed to protect and did the exact opposite, no mothers who died of breast cancer.

  “It was good.” What the fuck? Did I really just say that? “I- I hope you get everything figured out.” Just leave… stop.

  “Thanks.” Shanna hesitated, like she was going to say something else, but she pressed her lips together into a hard line instead.

  “Goodnight. Or good morning. Or whatever.” Could I make this any worse?

  “Percy…” her name on his lips brought both their heads up.

  Her name on his lips was dangerous. It made him want to grab her, to do things to her, with her. He stared at her mouth and for the first time in his life, he wanted to kiss someone. No, not someone. Her. Shanna. My back alley angel. His cock throbbed and kicked up. His heart rate sped up, pumping blood to parts of his body he didn’t know could tingle like they did. That lead heaviness in his stomach settled in. Settled in for good.

  “I thought we said no names,” he finally choked out roughly.

  “You said no names. I don’t know that I agreed. And maybe that was drunk me talking. This is still drunk me, but not quite as drunk me. This is… I’m Shanna. And you’re Percy.”

  She didn’t make fun of his name. She didn’t say a damn thing about it, the name he loved and hated in turns. Loved because it was his mother’s father’s name. Because every single minute of the day he wished she was still with him. Her death had started a landslide of events that changed the course of his life. A life he’d been lucky to make it out of alive. A life that still haunted him, asleep and awake.

  His desire to kiss her was just a biological urge. A strange one, but one that was bound to happen at some time in his life. His throbbing dick and the fact that their session was cut short in the alley probably brought it on. But there had been that nightmare, the nightmare that fucked him up every single time it came. Sometimes for weeks, sometimes for months. She’d dispelled his fear and the memory as quickly as it came on. Dispelled it just by being there. By existing. He’d searched his entire life for something that would be that effective. Alcohol, bikes, the open road, the gang, his brotherhood… nothing helped. Nothing. He would have tried meditation if he thought it would work.

  And there she was, standing there, her chin lifted just a little, eyes shining in the gray light of early dawn, hair mussed, makeup imperfect…

  Percy didn’t even know what he was doing when he grabbed her. That touch, the soft warm skin of her shoulders under his rough calloused palms, woke a beast inside of him that he didn’t even know was there.

  Shanna’s blue gray eyes went wide. Her beautiful rose petal lips parted. Percy pulled her into him. She was a good few inches taller than him in those damn shoes, but it wasn’t something he cared about. All his life he’d had to prove to people that he was more than he looked like he was. When he’d joined the gang, they didn’t give a shit if he was short or tall, fat or thin. He hadn’t been healthy then, but as fucked up as it was, it was his first step on a long hard road to recovery. He was healthy now, at least- his body was. He’d put on weight and bulked up. He was strong. He could run for miles, swim for hours. Carry an unconscious woman home to his house…

  Shanna melted against him. There was nothing about her that wasn’t sexy including those long legs. If she took off the heels, they’d be almost equal and that… it was a fucking turn on. Along with her scent. Along with the feel of her skin. Along with her breath on his lips.

  When their mouths met, it wasn’t light or sweet or gentle. It was hungry. Terrifying. Brutal. They attacked each other, ate at each other, clashed their teeth together. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she met him halfway.

  His father’s face flashed through his mind, the sick fucker. He panicked as a hard swell of loathing rose up in his gut. He tried to pull away, but Shanna’s arms wrapped around his neck and her curves melted against the hardness of him. His knee came between her legs and he felt the delicious heat of her thighs, her sweet pussy, right through his clothes. She grounded him and miraculously, the panic disappeared. His mind cleared and he thought of nothing but Shanna’s sweet face.

  She nipped his bottom lip gently and he groaned. His cock nearly tore through his jeans. He wrapped his hands around her tiny little waist. She whimpered and the kiss changed, becoming softer, sweeter. She took her time exploring his mouth and he let her.

  When he finally had to come up for breath, he reached up and gripped her neck. He tilted it back and moved his face to the pale column. He inhaled her sweet womanly scent, the perfume and her skin and his body sang. It sang and ached.

  Percy broke away. He let her go and took a faltering step backward. “Goodnight, Shanna. Or good morning.” He turned and fled. His steps carried him past the larger house, out of the yard. He had to put distance between himself and her, the woman who turned him inside out and upside down. She dispelled his fears as easily as if they’d never been and did something… something he couldn’t begin to name or define or fathom. It felt pretty damn close to healing.

  She didn’t call him back. She didn’t run after him. Which was a damn good thing. He’d come apart into a thousand broken pieces, if she tried.

  Percy threw on the helmet Shanna had worn, mounted his bike and took off down the street. It was loud and he didn’t give a shit if people were sleeping and he woke them. He just needed to get out of there and sort through whatever the fuck was happening to him.

  He’d driven for twenty minutes before he finally pulled over on the side of the road. He couldn’t see. The rain had started up again and it was blinding.

  As he ripped off the helmet, he was mystified to find that the sun was shining. The sunrise, off to his left, was glorious. Reds and oranges, purples and pinks painted the sky. The rain was coming from inside his helmet.

  Chapter 8

  SHANNA

  Two days of rest and relaxation, sunbathing, fresh fruit and careless hours had Shanna feeling just about right. But not back to normal. She didn’t want to go back to her normal again. She didn’t want to be the old Shanna, the one who settled, the one who stayed with a guy because she thought she should, because she was too afraid to start over, the Shanna who had never truly been in love with anyone before. She wanted to be the new Shanna, the one who traveled fearlessly by herself, who made new friends, who swapped stories over coffee with Mrs. Lewis, the one who was attracted to dark men with illicit pasts.

  Percy. Shanna wished she could have said that she’d spent two days not thinking about him, but it was impossible to wipe him from her mind. She wasn’t fixated on him exactly, she just couldn’t stop thinking about, or reliving, that kiss. God, that kiss.

  He kissed her like it was his first time, his only time, his last. He kissed her breathless, like she was the only woman in the world. He kissed her like he meant it and meant for her to remember it.

  And then he’d fled, fear flashing in his eyes, a wounded expression twisting his features. He’d fled like she was dangerous.

  The jarring ring of Shanna’s phone startled her. She hadn’t had it on much throughout the past few days, mostly to avoid receiving an insane phone bill when she arrived back home. She’d hea
rd people’s stories about getting bills for a couple grand after being down in Mexico. So far, she’d taken care.

  It was just about dark and she’d gone into the little guest house to shower away the sand from the beach and the salt from the ocean. She emerged feeling completely refreshed. Until she heard her phone go off. She realized that she hadn’t turned it back off after checking her emails and sneaking a peak at her social media. It had only been an hour. Hopefully that didn’t cost her…

  Wearing a fluffy white towel, Shanna ran to the kitchen and picked her phone off the small kitchen table. She was dismayed to see it was her mother calling.

  Of course. Obviously she thinks I died. She only left twenty-two voice mails in three days. She winced. She really didn’t want her mother to report her missing or call the police or anything. She saw no other choice but to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Shanna!” Her mother’s high pitched screech was like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Yes, it’s me. Your one and only daughter on her one and only cell phone.”

  “Why don’t you answer it more often then! I’ve been so worried!”

  Shanna rolled her eyes. “Mom. I texted you when I landed and said I got here fine. I told you I was turning off my phone and wouldn’t have it on very often. By very often, I meant almost never. I’m trying to avoid getting a huge bill when I’m back. I have better things to spend my money on.” Like getting a new apartment away from you.

  “Still! You think that you’d call me back! So what if you texted me when you landed? That was three days ago! Three whole days! Anything could have happened to you. You could have been murdered, robbed, abducted…”

  Or fucked in some dark alley. A wave of heat rushed over her. Astoundingly enough, it traveled up her thighs. Her pussy throbbed violently and she knew that if she put her hand between her legs, it would get wet with more than just the water from her shower.

  “I’m fine, mom. Really. Please don’t worry about me. I only have five more days here. I want to make sure they’re good ones. I’m not going to spend time on my phone. I want to unplug and unwind while I’m here. That was the point of going away.”

  “You should have let me come with you! If you’d given me more notice-”

  “Mom,” Shanna said softly. She kept her voice moderate. That would be the last thing I would ever do. I said rest and relaxation, not nagging and constant worry about being so much less than perfect. “I’m really glad you called. Seriously. I am. But I don’t want you to worry. So please, if I don’t talk to you for a couple days, don’t panic.”

  “No! I want you to promise to call me every single night, Shanna. Just to report back to me that you’re still alive.”

  “Can I text you?”

  “Text me?” Her mom screeched. Shanna held the phone away from her ear before her mom had a chance to blister it right off. She really hoped that Helen didn’t get going on one of her tirades. She’d never be able to hang up then and still maintain the peace. “Text me? Your mother, who brought you into the world, who looked after you, who has given you everything, who has worked so hard for you? You can’t call your own mother, you have to text her?”

  “Everyone texts now, mom.” Everyone but you. Because you refuse. Because you’re stubborn. Because you like to get me on the phone and pour out your woes to me for an hour every time.

  “I don’t. You can call me.”

  “Well, even if you don’t, you know how to read them. I know you know how to read them.”

  “That’s not the point.” Shanna held the phone away from her and sighed. “I heard that!” Helen screeched again.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow night. At seven your time. Okay? So you don’t worry. And don’t you dare call the cops if it’s one or two minutes late. Or even five. Please. Don’t do anything ridiculous."

  “You’re my only child. I have a right to worry.”

  And apparently to be overbearing and smothering and judgmental as hell. Shanna closed her eyes. Maybe that wasn’t fair. Her mom loved her. Other people weren’t nearly as lucky as she was. Some of her friends didn’t have supportive parents or nice parents or even not so nice or judgmental parents. Some of them would have given anything to be able to go home or have someone to fall back on, annoying or suffocating or not.

  “Yes, mom. I know. I’m sorry that I made you worry. I’ll call you tomorrow night, okay? I was just getting ready for bed?”

  “At eight at night?”

  “Yes. At eight at night. I’m tired. I’ve had a long day. I was up early, did some swimming, sat on the beach, read a little bit of this trashy romance novel, the kind you hate, walked to town for lunch, bought a few souvenirs. Now I’m exhausted.”

  “I thought you said you were trying to relax,” Helen humphed.

  “I am trying to relax. All those things were relaxing, but now I’m tired. Is that alright with you?”

  “I suppose it has to be. If you don’t want to stay on the line and talk with your dear old mom, then what can I do?”

  “My phone bill, mom. Seriously. It’s going to be out of control. Unless you want to pay it for me?”

  “I’ll do what it takes-”

  “No, mom.” Shanna could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Please. I’ll call you tomorrow. Alright? I love you. Bye now.” She hung up before her mom could respond. Then she turned off her phone. Powered it right down and set it back on the table.

  She felt a little guilty. Not just for hanging up on her mom, but for lying. The truth was, she wasn’t going to bed. She wasn’t tired. She’d spent the entire day formulating a plan and trying to talk herself out of it. She’d lost the battle. She already knew she was going to go into that back bedroom, put on her matching black lace bra and panties, throw a loose sundress over it, pull on a pair of flip flops, brush out her hair, but leave it wet to dry in the warm night air, dab a hint of perfume on her neck right behind her ears, and walk back to that bar where she’d drank way too much tequila.

  She wouldn’t go in. No, she’d walk right past it. Down the street and over a few blocks. She hadn’t just stepped out Percy’s door and jumped on the back of his bike when he drove her home. She made sure she stole a glance at the front of the house and at the street sign as it whizzed by.

  The new Shanna, the one she tried to think of as fearless, the one who lives without regrets, even if her actions should have been regrettable, would go right up to that front door and knock on it.

  In her fantasies, Percy answered. He’d tug her inside, wrap his strong arms around her and kiss her breathless. Again. She’d drop her sundress, exposing her pretty matching lingerie and he’d take her to the bedroom. Where he’d fuck her. And she wouldn’t black out again. There might be a little of him telling her what to do and how to do it. Commanding her. Because, hell, it was a fantasy.

  Shanna walked back into the little bedroom to get ready. She knew the most she could hope for was probably a cup of coffee. Maybe he wasn’t even home? Maybe he wouldn’t answer the door. The old Shanna wouldn’t even try. She’d think of a thousand good reasons why she shouldn’t go to Percy’s house. The new Shanna though… she wasn’t much for common sense.

  Chapter 9

  PERCY

  All his life he’d been afraid. Afraid of physical contact. Afraid that being touched would bring back all those memories he wished he could forget. He’d been afraid, ultimately, of being helpless. That kiss with Shanna had made him feel helpless, but in a completely different context than he thought. He wasn’t even sure that he knew what the definition of the word helpless was, or why people used it in a negative connotation.

  Days later, she was still on his mind. He’d done all the riding he could to try and banish her, but her image stubbornly clung to his brain. The scent of her perfume and her skin refused to leave his nose. The sweet sounds of her throaty whimpers in the alley echoed through his ears. She filled him up, each and every single one of his senses. Sh
e held him enthralled and she wouldn’t let him go.

  It was late by the time Percy went back to the house. He parked his bike in the little lean to shelter that was built off the side of the house. It was quite effective in keeping out the rain and not much else. The locals around there knew him though. They knew he wasn’t someone to fuck with, just by looking at him. It pretty much eliminated any worries he had about theft.

  He’d left the front door unlocked. Again, he didn’t often bother with the deadbolt. No one had bothered his house. Not that there was much inside to steal anyway. He had a few valuables, his passport, his cash, a watch. He kept those locked up in a small safe hidden at the back of the closet. No one would be able to even find the damn thing he had it hidden so well.

  The second Percy stepped inside the house, he knew something was off. Something was wrong. He couldn’t say why or what gave him the feeling, but the hair on his arms stood up under his leather jacket. He was the kind of guy who’d survived by listening to his gut instincts.

  He slowly shut the door behind him. Someone was here. There were no tracks in the house, and nothing appeared to be touched, but he just knew.

  A sharp sound, the shifting of a bed spring, froze him in position in the middle of the living room. Percy glanced around the darkened room. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. As always, the sweet scent of perfume lingered in his memory. This time… it was too sharp. It was too real and too fresh to be a figment of his imagination.

  He walked swiftly down the hall to the bedroom and threw open the door. His footsteps announced his presence and the woman on the bed wasn’t shocked or surprised to see him. Shanna blinked up at him, those sweet honey lashes fluttering wildly over eyes that appeared darker in the glow of the bedside lamp. She was on top of the covers, her clothes cast aside on the floor. She wore nothing other than a lace bra and panties which left little to the imagination, as they were quite sheer and the lamplight was strong.

  “What the fuck?” He relaxed hands that had automatically balled into fists at his sides. He purposely looked away from her breasts, to where the strawberry tips of her nipples stood up under that sheer lace, but it was too late. His dick was already at full mast. He didn’t dare steal a second glance at her panties if he wanted to remain sane. “What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you know you shouldn’t just walk into someone’s house and lay yourself out on their bed? Especially. Not. Mine.”