by Franca Storm
It was one of the things I loved most about her. Something we’d always had in common too. That sense of wanting, no, needing to run free. Me with my riding and refusing to conform to a nine-to-five life, something I’d escaped with the club. Her with the way she expressed herself with her hair, her body art and her creativity—her jewelry-making. It was what’d set me off tonight. Seeing her tamper that down for some dickhead. For the second night in a row. What was she thinking? That preppy douchebag didn’t deserve to be anywhere near her. And there she was letting him eye-fuck her? Letting him get his fill while she hid the real her under a jacket?
Fuck, it wasn’t my business. Cole had asked me to watch her back. End of story. I was club security. It should be a walk in the park. And it would’ve been if the mission had been protecting anybody but her.
I’d done real well these last few years. It wasn’t easy either. I’d forced myself to keep out of her way. I’d even got her hating on me so she wouldn’t want to be in my space, wouldn’t make it hard to be apart. I’d had to. Cuz as soon as I’d started seeing her as more than just little Lucy Taylor, the want had blazed out of control.
And now here I was. Cole had no idea what he’d done. He’d poked the fucking bear in a major way.
I reached my bike, took one last drag of my smoke, then stubbed it out on the graveled lot with the heel of my boot. I settled against my bike, figuring I was in for one hell of a wait if Luce’s words were anything to go by. It was chilly out, a bitch of a November wind whipping through the area and biting at me. Good. Hopefully the chill would finally calm my raging hard-on by the time Luce strutted out in her knee-high leather boots. Jesus, thinking about her in those boots wasn’t going to soften anything. Her and leather? Don’t go there. It was my own fault for spouting all that dirty talk to her.
I pushed off the bike and strode around to one of the saddlebags, deciding I wanted my jacket. Sure, I could’ve handled the cold, but keeping busy was best right now. Clearly, I couldn’t trust my thoughts. Plus, I couldn’t seem to keep still for a goddamn second. I was edgy as hell. I unzipped the bag and pulled out my jacket, shaking it out. I’d only just zipped it up and shrugged on the jacket over my cut when the sharp clack of heels got my attention.
Spinning around, I was surprised to see Luce coming my way. Several things were wrong with what I was seeing. For one, I’d only left the place ten minutes ago to come out here to wait for her. Another was, Luce always walked with some major pride, like literally with her head held high. And as she made her way over to me, her head was bowed, her sexy purple waves hiding half her face, her hand doing the rest. I didn’t like the way her jacket wasn’t sitting right on her shoulders either, like she’d rushed to shrug it on to make a hasty exit. What was going on?
I closed the distance between us with a couple of quick strides.
“What’s wrong?”
She stepped back sharply and turned her head, trying to hide.
I realized my mistake right off the bat. My tone was all business, real harsh and commanding. I’d probably scared her. But for the life of me, I couldn’t reel it in. Not until I knew what was going on with her. What’d hurt her.
I should’ve never left her in there. I should’ve kept eyes on her the entire time. Sure, I’d ruled her date out as a threat, but I must’ve miscalculated, fucked up somehow, cuz here she was, not all well and good as I’d left her.
You’ve failed her, asshole.
I snatched her hands. Her big blue eyes met mine and it was like a kick in the junk to see them red and puffy. Tears stained her cheeks, her creamy, soft skin. I could count on the fingers of one hand, the number of times I’d seen Luce cry in all the years I’d known her.
“Little darlin’, what’s wrong?” I asked again, fighting like hell to tone it down, when it was all I could do to breathe right. Seeing her tears had my baser instincts erupting inside me like a volcano. Just like they always did around her. Always her. Nobody but her. It was more than just some order from Cole to watch her back. It was a need to protect her. And a primal determination to hunt down any threat or anybody or anything that’d hurt her too. Worse than even that was the hunger… to take her.
Get a grip. “Luce?” I pressed, ignoring how strained my voice sounded.
“Nothing. It’s nothing. Can we just go?” she finally answered. She struggled against my hold on her hands, grumbling, “Mason, let go of me. Okay? Just let go.”
Like hell, I would. Holding fast, I growled, “I’m not releasing you, until you cough up some answers. You come running out here crying like this, after being in there with some guy. You get how it looks?”
Something in her eyes said that she did, even with the little frustrated scoff she threw at me. “You were right, okay?”
I frowned. “Right?”
She blew out a breath and looked away. “It’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m so upset. I don’t get like this. I just… I showed him. I showed him me… my tats and stuff. And…”
She trailed off. I slid my hand into her hair and her teary eyes raised to mine.
“And what?”
“He said he… uh wanted me to be his date to a big social event thingy, but he asked me to wear something to cover them up and… he said my hair color wasn’t appropriate either. He asked if it was something temporary left over from Halloween and, if not, could I dye it to something more acceptable, then he could take me. Before he said that, I was pointing to my bluebell tattoo, Mason. You know, my first one? I was gonna do like you said, be myself, explain how the sleeves first started. But he just…” She winced and shook her head from side to side. “You get the picture.”
My gut clenched as I watched another tear roll down her cheek.
“Shh,” I whispered, stroking her hair as she quietly sniffled.
That bluebell tattoo had started it all for her, cuz it’d been the nickname her parents had given her as a kid, a tribute to the color of her huge eyes that were such a mesmerizing shade of blue. A small tattoo on her right wrist. The rest had grown from there. That douchebag date of hers didn’t deserve to know about any of that.
I wiped her tear away and then stepped back. “Wait here. I’ll sort this.”
Her eyes widened and as I made a move to step past her, she blocked my path. “No, Mason.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
With a roll of her eyes, she told me, “I know you, remember?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “What does that mean?”
“You’re going to do something to him.”
Gonna teach the little prick how to respect a lady. “Just gonna have words, Luce.”
“That’s MC speak for your fist meeting his face, Mason.”
I pointed to my bike. “Look, I’ll be two minutes and then we’ll go. Just wait here.”
She grabbed my arm. “Please don’t. Don’t be like Cole. Can’t you respect my wishes? Please just get me out of here before he comes out. That’s what I want. Nothing else. Not you punching some guy out and just proving his point.”
“His point?”
“Yeah. You know, that I’m trash? Not good enough for the likes of him.”
My blood boiled. “Trash?” Is that how that fucker had made her feel? Is that what he’d said?
I stepped into her, cupping her face in my hands. “You could never be trash. Ever. Never were. Never will be. You, Cole and me struggled through a lot when we were young. So, yeah, we might have tracked through the rough and dirt, but you always were and always will be the bright little diamond that came through all that fighting and hell, little darlin’. Going through all that builds a person up, makes a real person. It makes you more. Worth more. More than the likes of him will ever be. It isn’t money or standing that decides if somebody’s trash, or not. It’s about respect, loyalty and the kind of person they are. You see, sweet little Lucy?”
Her eyes sparkled up at me. They were wide, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Beats passed
where neither of us said a word. It took me a good long while to realize I was still touching her, holding her face in my hands. Shit. I stepped back quickly and it broke the weird spell between us.
I cleared my throat. “All right. I won’t be long. Just wait here.” Time to deal with that asshole.
Her hands fisted in my jacket and she pushed her weight into me. “Don’t,” she ground out. Her voice came out all muffled and I looked down to see her head buried in my chest. Damn woman had me hesitating. I’d been all ready to pull her off me, ease her off to the side, so I could do what needed to be done and deal with that fucker inside the restaurant. But seeing her clinging to me, holding onto me, needing me… the hell I could now.
“Please, Mason.”
Ah, fuck.
“All right.”
A shuddering breath escaped her and then she tilted her head up, those big blue eyes fixing on me.
“Why do you care so much?”
“What?”
“Cole asked you to watch my back, not defend my honor, or anything.”
“We’re not doing this,” I told her, making a move to pull away.
She held on real tight to my jacket, telling me, “You’ve been showing me nothing but hostility for the last few years. I thought you hated me. And yet here you are being so sweet to me, hell-bent on defending me. So, all this hatred was… what… a lie? Tell me, Mason.”
“I need to get you home.”
“Tell me,” she insisted, being the stubborn-ass woman she always was.
I knew I should’ve just broken her grip by force, lunged at her and thrown her on the back of my bike, or some shit. But, for the life of me, I couldn’t.
Instead, the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. It was the intensity in those sexy blues of hers, urging the truth from me after all these years of keeping it buried down deep. Or, maybe it was her hands on me finally, us being so close screwing with my good sense. Either way, they burned on the way out, almost clogging my throat as I told her, “There’s nothing to hate. Never was. Never will be, Luce.”
“But all this time—”
“Was easier that way.”
The hell, it was. There was no easy when it came to staying away from her. To wanting her. But what else could I tell her?
I knew the second she got what I was saying, cuz her eyes flashed and she gasped, “Oh my God.”
“Yeah.”
“Why… uh… why did you break that tonight? I mean, you were sweet to me.”
“You needed me.”
She bit her lip. I watched as it trembled and my gut clenched; it looked like she was gonna cry. Cuz of me.
She buried her face in my chest.
“Luce, I—”
“So, tomorrow we go back to playing the hating game? Is that it?” she asked, her voice muffled against my leather again.
Fuck, I didn’t know. How was I supposed to answer that?
Instead of finding the words, I reached out and sank my fingers into her hair, stroking her soft purple waves. She turned into my touch and raised her head to gaze up at me. “Is that what you want?” Her voice was barely a whisper and sounded so damn sultry.
“What I want?” I rasped, almost choking on the words.
She nodded. “That’s what I asked.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant to challenge me. I knew Luce was real innocent. How could she not be with Cole always driving away every bastard who got within a few feet of her? But either way, the man in me sure as fuck was taking it as a challenge, as though she was throwing down the gauntlet. Cuz, as I looked down at her, all I could see was the girl I’d always wanted right there in my arms, desire in her eyes for me, wanting to be taken, needing me as much as I’d been needing her all this time. And with her hands on me short-circuiting my brain, her sweet coconut scent driving me to distraction, and the white knight complex she’d brought out in me tonight on overload, my willpower was shot to hell.
I dipped my head and fisted my hand in the back of hair. “‘Course it isn’t.”
Her eyes widened and she mumbled, “Then what—?”
My mouth crashed down on hers with the fury of a violent tidal wave colliding with land. She whimpered from the ferocity that I couldn’t hold back, stumbling. I brought my hand around to the small of her back, steadying her for a second, before pushing her against my bike. She cried out and the sound sent a bolt of pleasure straight to my dick. A cross between a moan and a sexy purr. I feasted on her lips, nipping, biting and licking every last inch of them. But I needed more. I needed to taste her, to claim the woman I’d denied myself for so fucking long.
I sank my hand deep into her silky waves, angling her head with a rough tug. It had her arching her back and rolling her hips, trying to rub herself against me. Mmm… she liked that. A bit of sexual domination. Good thing, cuz that was the only way I rolled, as I’d warned her earlier.
The next thing I knew, her hands were slipping under my shirt and her nails were dragging up and down my back, making me hiss with the bite of pain. Hell, yes!
Growling, I gripped her thigh hard. It had her gasping and parting her sweet lips for me. I didn’t waste the invite. I plunged my tongue inside, diving in eagerly to taste every part of her. She went wild then, her tongue tangling with mine, giving as good as she got. I wasn’t sure which one of us was panting harder. All I knew was I could barely breathe, but I didn’t want to stop, cuz it felt too good tasting her, touching her, after all this time. I just couldn’t get enough. I was lost in the heat of her. Drowning in it.
I ground my stiff cock against her. I was so hard that it was painful. I could feel her heat even through my jeans. She fisted my cut, holding me to her and whimpering into my mouth, begging me to take it further.
“Oh God, Mason,” she choked, breaking the kiss and peppering my neck with desperate licks.
Every stroke of her tongue against my skin was like liquid fire, enflaming me further. Tempting me. Hit the brakes! I was fast reaching the point of no return. We were in a fucking parking lot! She deserved better. This shit was reserved for club whores, not her. Not my little Pixie. This wasn’t the plan, asshole! Things had gotten out of control real quick.
I felt her fingers sliding down my chest. Lower… lower. No!
I shot out my hand and gripped hers. Sucking in a harsh breath, I rasped, “Let’s get you home.”
3
~Lucy~
My mind was awhirl with every unsteady step I took down the narrow hallway towards my apartment. It was a comfortable two-bedroom I shared with Abigail Heeley, my best friend and boss, the owner of the coffee shop that took up the ground floor below.
I’d been working there as a Barista for the last couple of years. Just one of the many jobs I’d held over the last six years while I’d been working to build my own business from the ground up. I was ready to launch it now. Everything was in place. Well, everything except one detail. Location. It was part of the reason behind my mortifying breakdown in front of Mason earlier. I rarely ever cried and certainly not over something so pathetic. But things like that major decision had been weighing heavily on me lately. I felt sick with it.
Right now, though, the only thing on my mind was what’d happened in that parking lot between Mason and me. That kiss! Hell, calling it a kiss didn’t do it justice. Having his mouth on me, his talented tongue meshing with mine, his strong hands on me, him wanting me… it was overwhelming. I was still trembling, my nerves were frazzled to bits. It was like he’d somehow stripped me bare with that dominating, sexy commanding edge of his, ripping my sexuality from its long-dormant state and thrusting it brazenly out into the open. In those moments, the shy girl who’d only ever experienced passion and desire in dreams and fantasies had fallen away. He’d had me crazed, craving pleasure—the pleasure he could give me—above all else. Nothing else had mattered. I’d never felt so free in all my life.
But then he’d stopped it so abruptly.
What the hell
did that mean? Was it because we’d been in the middle of a parking lot? Had he been acting out of some sort of chivalry? Or, did he regret it altogether? Holy hell, things were a mess. Mason had thrown me through a complete loop. Finding out the last six years, not only had he not actually hated me, but he’d actually been crushing on me, like I had him, was enough of a revelation to reconcile, as it was. He’d played it close to his chest. And now, on top of that, we’d crossed a major line. What now? I couldn’t get a grip on my body, let alone my thoughts.
My heart was hammering so fiercely in my chest as I reached the door to my apartment, I was afraid it would rip right through my flesh. I needed to calm down. Mason had walked me up to my apartment two nights in a row. It should just be routine now. But tonight it felt a whole lot different. The heavy thud of his motorcycle boots on the carpeted floor behind me echoed down the hallway in such an ominous way it sent a shudder of trepidation through me.
I hastened to pull my keys from my purse and then struggled like a fool for a good few seconds before I managed to actually get the door open. Giving it a push, I stepped inside and slapped at the light switch, flooding the place with light.
A sharp gasp of surprise escaped me as I turned back to the doorway and smacked right into Mason’s hard body.
“Uh… sorry,” I said, jerking back quickly and trying my damnedest to pretend I hadn’t just felt all that hard muscle beneath my fingertips. All that delicious muscle.
The corner of his mouth turned up. But it wasn’t his usual smug smirk he threw my way. I could barely believe it, but it actually looked like a nervous smile. That was the last thing I would’ve ever expected to see from a huge burly biker, a man always so confident and so completely in control of everything and everyone around him. It was almost… endearing. I didn’t quite know what to do with it.
I watched him shift his weight as he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unable to look me directly in the eye, and, like me, perturbed by the tension that’d developed between us since the parking lot slipup. Neither of us had actually spoken a word to each other since we’d climbed onto his bike and headed to my apartment. We’d both done our best to avoid making direct eye contact either.
