Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  There was a short hallway going across the front of the house, and she walked up it, pushing and opening doors as she went. Closet, a half-bathroom, a generic bedroom—she really hoped that wasn’t Mason’s—another generic bedroom…really, a clone? At the end of the hallway was one last door, and as she turned the handle to open it, she felt a little buzz of anxiety go through her. Maybe the couch is the better choice after all, she thought, but then the door opened and she paused, smiling at Mason’s bedroom, because it was so perfectly him.

  Not a typical bachelor pad, he had a huge, king size, canopy-free, four-poster bed with a mattress that was impossibly tall, but totally fit his physique. On the walls above the dark wood furniture were black and white pictures of what looked to be family standing awkwardly. They were posed singly or in couples beside cars, and in larger groups on cabin porches, always in rural settings and seldom smiling. Some of the photos looked to be decades old, and she wondered about the stories that probably lay behind each of them.

  Poking at the mattress, she found it to be firm, but soft. Running the comforter between her fingers, she smiled, because it was microfiber and down, as light and soft as a feather. This would be a good place to rest and hide from the world, and it felt as safe as Mason did.

  Mason came into the room behind her just as she opened her arms wide like a swan dive. Giving a little jump, she flung herself up face-first onto the mattress. He laughed aloud at her antics, carrying a small basket of medical supplies over to the bed and sitting down beside her. “Okay, babe, shuck off your shirt for me; let me look at the stitches to make sure none of them are infected. We want to see that they aren’t growing into the skin, either. Either of those would take different supplies, so we want to make sure we’re all setup before we start.”

  Mica reached behind her head and snagged the collar of her shirt, pulling and scrunching the material up behind her neck without taking it over her head. “Will this work, Mason?”

  “No, babe. It needs to be off, so we can get to the back of your head too. We have a few to take out of your noggin, remember?” he cajoled her, gently tapping the top of her head. “I don’t think there are any stitches under your bra, so you can leave that on if you want.”

  “Okay,” she said agreeably, and unselfconsciously pulled her shirt all the way over her head, baring the soft lines of her back for Mason. He sat still for a second as he recognized she had a great many scars on her back, which were all much older than the ones from last week’s attack.

  His heart stuttered in his chest as he realized she had been hurt badly, over and over. These scars didn’t seem to stop with her back, but continued down beneath the waistband of her jeans, and across her ribs towards the front of her body.

  The one time he had seen her body before, he had been careful not to look at her overlong, and he wondered what he would have done then if he’d seen the scars. His hand reached out without conscious volition, stroking the skin near the stitches in her back. “Okay. These don’t look red or angry; that’s great.”

  His fingers parted the long strands of her hair, exposing the stitches across the back of her skull where the hair had been trimmed close to the scalp when they were stitching up the wound. “These look really good, too. Let me get some antiseptic and I’ll be right back.” He kept his voice even as he spoke to her.

  He stood, walked up the hall, and into the bathroom, retaining tight control over himself. He was carefully coaching his reactions so she would not know the depth of anger her scars stirred in him. He never wanted her to be self-conscious with him, and understood his reaction today would set the tone going forward. He had to keep it under wraps, keep things easy and calm.

  Dammit, he thought as his doorbell sounded, motherfuckers are early. He yelled up the hallway from the half-bath for them to come on in; it was open. Holding fast to the cabinet door, his knuckles were still white with rage, and he started when a cough came from the doorway. Turning his head, he saw Daniel Rupert staring at him with a puzzled look.

  “Do you always invite people in sight unseen, Mason?”

  “Naw, just bastages like you,” Mason responded with a short laugh, nodding his head at Daniel. “I’m working on Mica; give me a minute.” Grabbing the antiseptic from the shelf, he exited the bathroom and went back up the hallway with Daniel trailing behind. He wasn’t thinking about Mica being on his bed in her underwear; Mason was simply focused on getting this behind them, so they could move on to dinner.

  Daniel stopped short in the doorway, jealousy filling his gut. He drew in a deep breath when he saw Mica spread out on the bed, facedown, and shirtless. His darkening eyes flicked to Mason, taking in the basket of supplies and the antiseptic in his hands.

  Nodding slightly and consciously unclenching his jaw, he asked, “Missed the ER visit, did she?” He grinned at Mica as she turned her head to see him, and watched as she drew in her hands, folding them underneath her body against her chest. “Mason’s taking out my stitches,” she said helpfully, but very softly, aware that this was the second time he had seen this much of her skin. “Hi, Daniel.”

  “Hey, Mica. I see that. It’s a good thing you have an all-around handyman for a neighbor. I’m pretty respectable with tape and gauze myself; it comes with the hockey territory since we’re always getting banged up. Stitches, too. I don’t think I’ve had anyone else take my stitches out for years now.”

  He walked over to the bed. “These look really good; you’ve healed up nicely. I’d think even Mason should be able to handle removing them.” He was smiling at her, making this only about her healing injuries, not the expanse of beautiful skin displayed in this unexpected setting. Mason caught his eye and threw him a roll of tape.

  “Hey, tape and gauze guy, make yourself useful, fucker.” Daniel grinned at him and started tearing off lengths of tape, gauging the size of the gauze bandages they would need to cover the wound sites.

  An hour later, they were all sitting on the glassed-in patio, along with a half-dozen Rebels who’d shown up for the grill party. The food was nearly ready, and everyone had a pleasant buzz from their libation of choice. Mason looked around the group proudly, nodding to himself; these were all people he wanted in his life. Even Daniel, he thought with amusement, seeing with interest that his arm was across the back of the lounge behind Mica. She was relaxed and leaning towards him casually, listening to him talk to the group about an upcoming hockey game. Mason thought Daniel might be a good fit for her, and the man could sure hold his own in a fight…but would he fight for Mica?

  22 -

  The kiss

  Daniel had strolled across the street with Mica when the party broke up sometime after midnight. He reached out, wrapping her hand in his large one and lacing their fingers together as they stepped through Mason’s back gate, walking the short distance to her back porch. They were talking comfortably about nothing in particular, just casual conversation about the food and people tonight. She put her head back and laughed at his imitation of Mason holding a turning fork while standing over the grill, admitting it was pretty damn good.

  Daniel tightened his grip on her hand as she stepped up onto the first porch step, placing their faces nearly level as he pulled her around to face him. “I had a really good time tonight, Mica. I’m glad I crashed the party; it was nice to sit and relax with you.” He looked searchingly into her face, but shadows casting across her features by the streetlights made it hard to determine what she was thinking or feeling.

  Moving slowly, not wanting to startle her, he lifted his free hand and touched her face with his fingertips, slowly stroking across the angle of her cheekbone. He ran his thumb down to rub across her lips, dragging her bottom one down and opening her mouth slightly for a second. He sucked in a breath as he was rewarded with a glimpse of the tip of her tongue running across the edge of her teeth. He slid his hand back up to cup her jaw and tugged her forward, tilting her face up towards him.

  Her eyes closed slowly, dark lashes
drifting down to touch her pale skin as her chin lifted under his direction. Pausing for a bare moment, he looked intently at her face, they were close enough he could feel her breath across his lips, and then he lowered to fit his mouth to hers in a gentle, searching kiss. Her lips relaxed against his, kissing him back softly, and she lifted their joined hands to rest the back of his hand in the heat between her breasts, pulling their bodies closer together.

  The press of her body against his sent a thrill through his, straight to his groin, and his cock began to grow and swell in response to their closeness. He groaned deeply against her mouth, bringing his hand to slide back past her jaw and into the hair at the base of her skull to pull her closer, aware of the tender area there, but wanting to touch the silky length that was so much a part of her. She sighed, the small noise opening her mouth to him, and he devoured her moan and deepened the kiss, stroking into her with his tongue.

  He tasted her eagerly, and found her willingly meeting him thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke with her tongue. She was exploring his mouth as keenly as he was discovering hers, and the interactions were skyrocketing his arousal to new heights. Tilting his head and slanting across her lips roughly, he pressed his advantage to turn the still-gentle kiss into a hard torrent of passion. Sweeping his tongue into every corner of her mouth, he wrenched a louder moan from her that he also swallowed greedily. The kiss went on for long minutes as they ate at each other’s mouths, making small noises of pleasure and passion that fueled them even more, and made him want to be inside her in other ways.

  Coming back to his senses, Daniel knew he was on the brink of losing control entirely, and he began slowing to short, fierce kisses. Drawing at her lips hard, he dragged in ragged breaths as if he had run a race. He pulled away slowly, still holding onto the back of her neck with his hand, and rested his forehead tightly against hers as he fought to control his breathing. It was so hard to resist the primitive urge to take her…mark her…make her his.

  He watched her teeth grip her bottom lip in what looked like disappointment. She opened her eyes and looked straight into his, this connection somehow as intimate and arousing as he had found their kiss to be. He smiled ruefully at her, letting go of her hand and sliding both of his up either side of her neck to cup her face.

  “God, you are so beautiful, Mica. You make me lose my mind, and I think I could kiss you all night. I’d like to do this again, really soon.” He kissed her gently, almost chastely and stepped back, letting his fingertips trail across her cheeks. “You should go inside before you get too cold, beautiful. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

  Mica watched him retreat from her both physically and emotionally, wondering wildly what she had done wrong. This felt like she was losing something that was on the cusp of creation, something that could be wonderful. “Daniel, would you like to come in?” she asked, her breath coming quickly. She gasped, wondering at the welcome heaviness in her lower belly. Mica reached her hand up to trail her fingers across his arm and hand just before he pulled fully away and she lost his heat, becoming aware of the bitter chill in the night air.

  With a tone of regret, he said, “I should be getting home; I have an early practice tomorrow morning.” He stood there for a moment, out of reach, but she saw a play of emotions across his face. “I’d like to call you tomorrow, if that’s okay? I’d really like to see you again, soon.” She reached behind her for the doorknob, amazed at the immensity and disappointment of what she felt as a clear rejection. “Okay. Yeah…that’s fine. Talk to you soon, Daniel. G’night.” Trying to find a way to remove herself from her emotions and failing, she escaped into her home without another word, pressing the door closed gently.

  Daniel watched the house quietly for a minute, seeing the lights flip on as Mica moved through the house. He knew he had made a mistake and had hurt her, but he couldn’t see a way around this right now. She was so fragile, and he had seen the scars on her back at Mason’s. He was tangled up about all these possessive feelings they had kindled in him, when in reality he’d only seen her a couple of times and felt like he barely knew her.

  God knew the chemistry was there. Daniel was painfully hard and aching, and he knew if he had followed her into the house, he would have pushed her up against the first hard surface he found in order to bury himself balls-deep inside her, regardless of her injuries. Fuck, he was so hungry for her; she was like oxygen to him, necessary to breathe, but he wanted to create trust between them. This felt different than mere attraction, and he wanted to put in the time to figure out what it was.

  23 -

  Routine things

  Stepping out of the shower, she was shivering slightly from the chilly water she’d used to push her libido back into its cave. Mica toweled off roughly, and threw the wet towel over the shower bar in defeat. Naked, she stalked into her bedroom for clean clothes, still deeply stirred by Daniel’s kiss. She was frustrated and getting increasingly angry at him for leaving like that. He seemed to be as into the kiss as she had been, and maybe more, but he walked away.

  She had seen the large erection that tented the front of his pants as he backed away from her, so she really didn’t understand why he would shut her down so completely, unless he was simply uninterested in her sexually. It was hard for her to explain it in that way, given the heat and passion she had found in the shared kiss on her back porch steps. But, he had been in two different situations in which she had offered herself, where she had expressed her eagerness tangibly, and he had pulled away both times.

  The kiss tonight had taken her breath away, and she had been held in place by the force of the desire raging through her body. She’d been helpless as he stole her thoughts and tore down all the walls she normally kept built high. Not really helpless, she mused, but a willing participant.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” she asked her dresser mirror, pulling a favorite shirt over her head. “Surely, if I wanted to get turned down, I’d be doing the pursuing, but he wanted to walk me home. I don’t get this, and dangit, I’m horny now.” Looking at herself in the Frightened Rabbits shirt, she tilted her head back, and then blew a huge sigh out between her open lips. “Figures, first guy I’ve been attracted to in years and he’s just not into me.”

  She moved back to the kitchen, beginning her nightly routine of locking up, glancing quickly out each window as she checked the locks on every entry, turning out lights as she went. From the outside, it appeared to be a solo dance of obsession, with her silhouette silently arriving backlit at each door and window, her hands reaching up to twist the lock closed, open, and closed again, and then the wave of darkness would swallow her up.

  Room after room, she completed the ritual until she was back full-circle in her bedroom, which had no outside windows. Just as well, the man who was watching her house drifted backwards into the shadows, and pulled a phone from his coat pocket to make a call as he walked away.

  24 -

  Nightmares

  Wearing a dark blue sundress, Emily was running up the long driveway to the big house in her bare feet. The high school senior was waving a piece of paper over her head and yelling loudly for Mica and Mike, giving little jumps and skips every few steps. Mica finished pulling the saddle from the three-year-old Quarter Horse colt she had been working, slung it onto the top rail of the round pen, and looked over her shoulder at her friend as she draped the sodden saddle blanket upside down across the saddle to dry.

  Tying the lead rope to the fence, she grabbed a burlap bag and started ragging off the big, sorrel colt, briskly rubbing away the frothy evidence of his efforts. He had worked up quite a sweat as they practiced his slide stop and lead change rolls up and down the fence. She lifted the burlap and waved it like a flag at Emily, catching her attention and laughing as her friend changed her headlong trajectory to intersect Mica there with the horse. “I got in. I got in. I got in!” she yelled in a sing-song voice, still waving the piece of paper back and forth. “I got in. I got in. I got in!”r />
  Mica’s mouth dropped open, and she threw the burlap on the ground, sliding quickly through the fence and running to meet her best friend. “Shut up, you did not!” she screamed, grabbing Emily’s hands with her sweaty ones and twirling them around.

  “I did! I did, Mica. I got in!” Emily didn’t bother to lower her voice; she was too excited about being accepted into their favorite college, Texas A&M.

  Mica laughed at her. “I told you with your grades you’d be a shoe in, Em! Awesome possum, Sis!” She was excited for her friend, and with a full heart, held nothing back. “What does it say? The letter, what does it say?”

  Wrapping her arm around Mica’s neck, Em pulled her close for a loud kiss on her temple. “Smack ‘n kisses, Mica,” she said with emphasis, “I. Got. In.” She made a face, scrunching up her nose, “You stink, girlie, and sug’, that shirt is n-a-s-t-y. When is the last time it saw some soap?” Em grinned as she shook the paper in Mica’s face, and then handed over what amounted to her ticket out of town. It hadn’t really sunk in yet, but in Emily’s heart, she knew that after the upcoming summer, she’d be a different person. She’d be leaving Longview and headed to college.

  Mica skimmed the letter, her heart full of emotion for her best friend. She stilled as she got towards the end, lifting her gaze up to Emily’s face. “Did you read the whole letter, Em?” she asked with a quaver in her voice.

  “No, I read that I got in and wanted to tell you right away, so I ran over here since you didn’t answer the phone. Why?” Emily wondered about the change in her friend’s attitude.