Resistance (The Chicago Defiance MC Series Book 1)

by K E Osborn

  His body presses against mine as we kiss feverishly, my hands running through his hair as I let out a small moan in his mouth. It seems to shock him as he slows the kiss, his hands work their way down from my skin as he pulls back, breaking the kiss. I let out a small breath as I try to gather myself, looking into his shining eyes.

  He stares at me with a grin. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a spitfire, Heeley. But tonight we’re having coffee and watching television. We’re hanging out. Like we said.”

  Raising my brow, I clear my throat and tilt my head slightly, surprised by this information. “We are?”

  He chuckles. “Yes, because if I get carried away with you tonight, I might not be able to stop myself, and… I wanna be able to take my time with you.”

  Letting out a small giggle, I nod my head and swallow a lump that’s formed in my throat. “Oookay… at least you’re straight with me.”

  He brings his hand up caressing the side of my cheek, looking into my eyes. The moment, a tender side of him. “I’ll always be straight with you, foxy.” He leans in and presses his lips to mine roughly, his fingers pressing into the side of my cheek more aggressively than the sweet tone of moments before. He pulls back looking right at me with a grin. “Coffee, woman,” he demands and turns breaking away leaving me reeling against my closet as he exits my bedroom.

  I pant for breath as I slump my shoulders and shake my head. “Holy shit,” I mumble to myself so low I know he can't hear as I shake my head with a small grin and turn heading for my kitchenette.

  Torque and I had our coffee and have been sitting comfortably on my loveseat, which I never noticed was small until now. I guess because I’m normally the only one lounging on it. But now I have a hunk of a man, the size of a small barge, taking up most of the couch, I can see how the quaintness of this loveseat is now meager. My eyes dart to the side, glancing at him as season two of The Game of Thrones continues to play reruns on the television, and I wonder how it got to be like this. Not merely three days ago this man came barreling into my froyo bar looking for a place to lay low, and now he’s here, in my apartment, in a comfortable silence, enjoying a binge fest of GoT. How did this happen?

  “Your staring is gonna give me a complex, foxy,” he murmurs, though his eyes never leave the screen.

  My eyes snap back to the television to see the men holding a very young-looking Arya and Gendry captive, then he takes one of the fellow villagers, straps him to a chair and places a bucket with a rat against the villager’s bare flesh. I turn up my nose as a man brings a fire-lit torch and holds it to the bucket making the rat scratch and claw at the villager’s bare chest to try and get out. His pleas for mercy ring through my living room, and I glance to Torque again to see him raising a brow as a sly smirk appears on his face.

  I clear my throat and fold my arms over my chest. “This kind of thing appealing to you?” I ask, and he turns to me and shrugs.

  “I think I could learn a lot from this show.” His face deadpans but gradually a slow smile turns up on the corner of my lips.

  “What? Like how to fuck your sister? Torque, I knew you wanted to protect her, but—”

  “Okay, smart mouth, settle down.” The playfulness in his eyes makes me smile as I let out a small giggle, and he brings his arm up wrapping it around my shoulders pulling me to him. It’s comfortable, and I don’t have any hesitations at all.

  This is nice.

  “Umm…” I murmur as I glance up at him while I lean into his side. He looks down to me and raises his brow.

  “Just ask, Heeley.”

  Gnawing on my bottom lip, I take a deep breath and decide to just go for it. I’m pretty sure he’ll be honest with me. “I know you’re a biker, obviously, and that means you don’t play by the rules. But… how badly broken are those rules exactly?”

  Torque looks away from me. His hand tightening around my shoulder like he’s scared I might leave, while his other comes up rubbing his chin. “I… I don’t know how to answer that.”

  Pulling my lips in by my teeth, I inhale through my nose and nod. “I think you just did.”

  He finally looks back to me, his eyes dark, somber. He seems concerned. I’m not sure how to take this. He’s a biker on the wrong side of the law, that’s plainly obvious. I have no idea just how deep his corruption lies. If I want to be a doctor, I need to be aligning myself with the right people. I need to be seen as a model citizen. Torque can’t be good for my career. And though everything in me is screaming for me to run the other direction and to take the moral high ground—the inner rebel in me, the girl who opposes her parents in her career choice and just about everything else, the girl who rides a motorbike even though she knows one out of seven hundred and seventy people die in a motorbike accident—wants to explore this uncharted world with him. To see the dangers of this biker lifestyle with him, and to witness the other side of the fence where most women don’t dare to cross.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Your mind working overtime there, Heeley? Wanna tell me what you’re thinking?”

  I look up at him and crease my brows. “So, to be a doctor, you need to have a moral compass. You have to do things by the book. You have to do things by the law. You need to be a model citizen…” He nods, taking a deep breath, so I continue, “But can I do those things and still… live a little dangerously?”

  His eyes ignite and shine so brightly as his lips turn up slightly. He shifts turning to face me more as his nostrils flare. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying… I’m not going to break the law. Will I bend it? Probably. I’m not a tight ass. But I won’t do anything that will land me in jail, that’s all. I’m saying that I don’t know what this is or could be with us, but I’m willing, if you are, to explore getting to know you more.”

  His bright smile lights up his face, and he bows his head as he looks me up and down. “Well, that’s way more than I was expecting. As I keep saying, you surprise me. I thought I’d have you hauling my ass out of here by now, but I think you’re more of a rebel than you wanna let on. I’m gonna like getting to know you.”

  “One thing, though. Those Andrettis… if I’m attached to you, will they come after me?”

  His shoulders tense, his jaw clenching as he looks at me with narrowed eyes. “I won’t let that happen. I stopped them from getting Neala. They won’t get you, I can promise you that.”

  “Will they come after my friends and family?”

  His eyes bore into mine, intense and with stern confidence. “No.”

  Nodding, I settle back into the loveseat and turn my eyes back to the television, my nerves not settled but eased slightly. The Andrettis coming after me, I can handle, especially knowing that Torque will be watching out for me. But them coming after Ari, Xav, Mom, or Dad… that would be a deal breaker.

  “Good, now shut up. We’re missing the good bits,” I tease, and he chuckles tightening his grip around me again, and I lean my head down on his shoulder getting comfortable by his side.

  TORQUE

  Heeley is softly breathing on my shoulder, and I have no idea what the hell to do. I’m out of my depth here. I haven’t had a girl fall asleep on me in a comfortable closeness like this since Zoey, and it’s equal parts satisfying and scary as hell.

  It’s been six years.

  Six long, painful years since Zoey died.

  Since my unborn son died.

  Since my father died.

  It’s taken me a hell of a long time to get to where I am now.

  The first year was the hardest. Emotionally, I was spent. Being with another woman, though, while I wanted to think that I was a decent man, while I thought I should hold off for the sake of Zoey, I didn’t, and I threw myself into club girls to numb the pain. I hate myself for it now for tainting her memory like that, but it was the only way I knew how to cope at the time.

  Bullets, boobs, booze, and bacon is what got me by. I don’t know how I pulled myself out of that funk. Sur
ge helped, even though he was struck down with losing his daughter and his grandchild, he still found a way to help pull me from my misery, all while maintaining the club as its President. He’s one hell of a guy.

  Letting out a small puff of air, I look down to Heeley, her lips open slightly, another small sound echoing from her mouth, and I smile as I chuckle to myself. It’s been a long time since I felt a connection with someone. Not just a physical one, but a true stomach churning, can’t get them out of your motherfucking mind connection. She’s so goddamn adorable as it is. But then I find out she rides a bike and has this edge to her, this thrill-seeker side I knew nothing about. It only makes me want her more.

  She’s dangerous for me. The fact the Andrettis will come after her once they know I have her in my sights is inevitable. I need to deal with that, and I’m just not sure how without Heeley thinking I’m overdoing it. I already know I’m going to have Zane tailing her stealthily twenty-four seven from now on. Enzo missed out on Neala, and now we’ve delivered Alfonso back to him, and he snitched, I’m sure we’re going to have repercussions rain on our parade. I just don’t want that shit to have anything to do with Heeley. She’s far too innocent in all of this.

  A louder snore catches in her throat causing her to slowly open her eyes. I smirk looking down at her as she blinks a few times looking up at me. “Shit, did I fall asleep?”

  Nodding, I smooth her hair away from her face. “Yeah, but it was cute as fuck. The little snoring noises you make are so fuckin’—”

  “I do not snore!” She sits up fast, her eyes wide in horror as she bursts out of my grasp.

  Letting out a low laugh, I nod and tilt my head. “‘Fraid so, foxy.”

  She huffs, jutting her bottom lip out in a pout, and it takes everything in me not to fucking pounce on her right here and now. But tonight’s been tame, and I want to keep it that way. I reign my thoughts and body in and place my hand on her knee to comfort her.

  “What time is it?” she asks looking around to the kitchenette.

  I shrug. I have no idea. But I’ve been here for a good few hours with her snoring her head off.

  Heeley’s eyes bug out of her face as she obviously catches sight of the time somewhere, and she stands up from the loveseat. “Shit! It’s two in the morning.”

  My stomach falls, and I nod standing. “You have class tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” She weakly smiles and nods.

  I knew the night would end sometime. I guess I just wasn’t quite ready to leave her yet. “Okay, well… I’ll let you get some actual sleep.”

  She swallows hard, drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth and reaches out grabbing my hand.

  My eyes meet hers, and I can’t help but wonder what’s ticking over in that mind of hers. “Heeley?”

  “Stay.” The one simple word leaves her mouth, and my stomach twists wondering what exactly it is she’s asking. “I don’t mean for…” she waves her hands around, “… that. I need to sleep. But without sounding like too much of a girl, I kinda… just… want to sleep next to you tonight. If you… want… to.” The hesitation in her voice is cute, and I reach out taking her other hand in mine and smile.

  “I wanna, and don’t worry, I’ll let you sleep.”

  She lets out a small giggle threading her fingers into mine, and bends down picking up the remote and flicks off the television. Then she heads toward her room, and I follow as she walks. The living area descends into darkness as she turns off the switch, and we walk through the tiny hall to get to her bedroom. She drops my hand and walks to the side of her bed, the light from her bedside lamp illuminates sending an amber tint around the room. I smirk as I look at the floor, noticing piles of clothes and papers sprawled out everywhere, and I shake my head wondering how she can live like this. I mean I’m not a neat freak by any means, but this reminds me of something from my adolescent teenage years, not a twenty-five-year-old pre-med student, who also holds down a part-time job.

  She glances over her shoulder to look at me and chews on her bottom lip. “I… ah… don’t have anything for you to wear to bed.”

  I snort out a laugh, shaking my head. “I think I can manage.” I wade my way through the crap on her floor and walk around the other side of her bed which is closer to the bathroom as I begin to shrug out of my cut. The nightstand on this side pretty much has a lamp and not much else so I can put my shit on it. Her eyes follow me every step of the way as I lay my cut on the wooden table.

  She swallows hard and clears her throat as she walks to her closet shuffling through the clothes on the floor and pulls out a set of satin pajamas. Fuck! They have a little too much material for my liking. She makes her way past me as I spin and sit down on the edge of her bed and move to take off my combat boots. She scurries into the bathroom, and I chuckle shaking my head as she disappears to.

  “You know you could have changed out here, and I would have kept my eyes off you?” I call out as I hear her moving about in there while I pull off my boots, then stand up and yank off my jeans, placing them with my cut.

  “Well, yeah, but I have to brush my teeth anyway so may as well come in here.”

  I chuckle and reach over my head pulling off my shirt, leaving me in just my boxer briefs. I neatly place my shirt over my jeans and position my boots at the base of the nightstand, making sure to have my cell on top of everything in case someone needs me.

  I hear her brushing her teeth, and figure I’ll head to the bathroom to see what she looks like in her pajamas. So I round the corner to see her wearing a pair of cherry-red satin pajama bottoms and a matching satin camisole top with black lace above her fucking tits. My eyes open wide as the curve of her cleavage pops up through the lace, just enough to make my cock throb behind my briefs. I clear my throat making her head snap to the left to see me while still brushing her teeth. Her eyes bug out of her head as she looks me up and down, taking in my practically naked form, and she instantly begins to choke on the toothpaste. The toothbrush flies out of her mouth as toothpaste darts forward onto the mirror.

  I lunge forward, my hand on her back rubbing circles as she spits the remainder of her toothpaste out into the sink, rinsing her mouth out under the tap. Then slowly she brings her head back up, clearing her throat from the chaos and looks me up and down.

  “You could have warned me you were coming in, so you didn’t scare the life out of me. I could have died, Torque.”

  I smirk. “You think I’m gonna let you choke on toothpaste, foxy? I can think of things much better to choke on than toothpaste.” I waggle my eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I would’ve given you mouth to mouth.”

  She picks up a hand towel and dabs it around her mouth. I don’t miss the way her eyes subtly scan my stomach and arms.

  “Well, you wouldn’t need to if you gave me a fair warning is all I’m saying. Coming in here with no freaking clothes on… aren’t you cold?” She throws the hand towel at my chest as she turns toward the bedroom, and I smirk placing it on the bench and switch off the light and follow her back to the bedroom.

  “I run hot.” Stepping up to the side of the bed, I pull back the turquoise comforter, surprised that with all the mess of this room, she actually she makes her bed. Sliding inside the crispness of the sheets is quite refreshing, and I smile as she glides the curtains across her window and then moves onto her side of the bed.

  The mattress dips beneath her as she slides in next to me. Something washes over me, a feeling of familiarity, a feeling of comfort. Being in a bed with a woman is something I’m used to, but being in a bed and just sleeping, that’s something I haven’t done for six long years. Being with someone just because you want their company because you actually want to be with them for them and not because of the pussy between their legs.

  This is a huge step for me.

  I know that.

  Heeley does not.

  And as my head hits the pillow, my stomach churns slightly at the thought of replacing Zoey.

  Can I d
o that?

  Can Heeley be the woman I could finally move on with?

  She flicks off the lamp, and the room descends into darkness. My mind’s running a million miles a minute. The side of her body connects to mine, and I’m kind of stunned for a second. Like I’m back to the teenage boy who had no idea what the hell to do with a woman in his bed for the first time. Memories of Zoey flood back, and I screw up my face lying stock still, my heart pummeling in my chest as Heeley rolls over in her bed. Her back now facing me.

  “Good night, Rylan,” she murmurs, and it’s enough to snap me out of my funk. She called me by my name. My actual name, and I turn my head on my pillow to look at her. Her silhouette outlined in the darkness of the room, and I take a deep breath. Zoey wouldn’t want me to wallow, she would want me to move on, and here I am spending the night with someone who Zoey would love undeniably. Heeley is fucking perfect. She sends every part of me revving. So what the fuck am I doing lying here like a fucking motionless idiot?

  Rolling over in the bed facing her, I don’t ask for permission, I don’t let her know what I’m doing.

  I’m Rylan ‘Torque’ O’Shea, and I fucking take what I want.

  And right now, I fucking want to hold Heeley in my arms.

  So I move in behind her. My front firmly pressing against her back. She stirs as my arm wraps in around her waist and then slides up grabbing her hand, and I hold it to her chest.

  We’re spooning—officially.

  Legs fucking tangled. Bodies entwined. The whole nine yards. I don’t give a shit. I want to feel her, and I want her to feel me.

  My nose nuzzles into the back of her neck, letting her hair tickle my face as I inhale her sweet smell. My lips slowly press to her neck, and she relaxes back into me as I close my eyes letting myself succumb to this new feeling.