Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  Pulling into the alley that Mason and Mica shared, he was hard-pressed to find a parking space; there were bikes everywhere. Driving up into the yard, he turned off the car and took off at a run, slapping the door closed behind him. Pushing through the gate into the backyard, he found more than a dozen Rebels sitting or standing near the fire-pit. Some of them he knew, and he acknowledged their greetings with a raised hand as he went straight into the house.

  Seeing Tug in the kitchen, he bared his teeth and growled, “Where is she?” Wordlessly, Tug pointed towards the front of the house, where the bedrooms were. Daniel moved through more Rebels milling around inside the house, and found Mason in the master bedroom sitting on the side of his bed.

  Looking up, Mason caught Daniel’s eye as he came into the room, and pointed at the woman curled in the middle of the bed asleep, her dark hair fanning out across the pillows. Mason stood, walking towards the door, obviously wanting Daniel to accompany him out of the room. Daniel ignored him, reaching out with a hand to softly stroke the hair back from her face.

  He saw the bruising on her neck, and there were small circles of purple blooming along her jaw. Someone had held her face so tightly they had bruised her with their fingertips, and then they had tried to choke the life out of her. He rounded on Mason, nodding that he was ready to leave the room now. Arms held stiffly at his sides, he followed Mason out, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists.

  Grinding his teeth together, he stayed quiet until they entered the kitchen, and then he ground out the question he’d wanted to ask since he got there. “How did this happen, Mason? You said you could keep her safe. You said she’d be better off with you and your men than with me, and I went along with it. I allowed her to remain here,” he swept one hand out and pointed behind him towards the bedroom, “and that was a fucking mistake on my part.”

  Mason’s face tightened as Daniel ranted; crossing his arms across his chest, he waited for Daniel to wind down, knowing this came from fear and not disrespect. “Who fucked up, Mason? Who was on the schedule for tonight and, despite your trust in them, failed to keep her safe?” Daniel’s voice rose and he heard mutterings coming from the Rebels as they gathered in the doorways to the kitchen.

  Holding up one hand, Mason tried to stop the accusations, but Daniel talked over him. “She needs a doctor, man. Why did you not call one? She’s hurt, almost as bad as before, so why,” he took another step towards Mason, standing nearly chest-to-chest with the big man, “is she in your fucking bed?”

  “You done, man?” Mason asked impassively. “I got answers for you, but you gotta fucking stop talking to hear me.”

  “You got fucking answers, then spit them out,” Daniel shouted, “because I want to know everything.”

  “It was me,” he heard a voice confess from behind him, and then a different voice from beside him, “No, it was me.” Turning, he saw Slate and Tug standing in the kitchen, guilt weighing their shoulders and etched into their faces. Slate’s face had a huge cut on it, and was bandaged awkwardly with sterile-strips to hold the edges of the wound together.

  Slate continued, “We cleared the house, but he came in through the spare bedroom window and waited for her to go to bed. He nearly killed her, man, and then got away, because I’m an arrogant fucktard. She’s a fucking treasure, man, and nearly left the world darker tonight.”

  Mason said, “She didn’t want a doctor. We got one of the brothers to look at her; he’s a medic. Daniel, the injuries you saw aren’t all of it. She’s got a broken rib, internal bruising, and he kicked her between the legs, so she’s swollen there too. Worst is, he fucked with her mind, man. He was in her house, in her bedroom.”

  Tug nodded. “She hid under the bed, and screamed when Tucker touched her foot. Her face was so afraid, Daniel. You’re right; I failed her.”

  Fuck, this was harder when there were such regretful faces on the people he wanted to be pissed at. “You stopped him, kept her alive,” Daniel told the men, “so that’s got to count for something.” Receiving brief nods in response, he turned again to Mason. “She’s not staying here.” He shook his head. “She’s coming home with me, Mason, as soon as she wakes up.”

  Widening his stance and frowning, Mason was clearly not in favor of that idea. “I have a good alarm system in my house, and cameras. I’ll have brothers here all the time, like we did, but the environment can be more easily controlled. She’s staying here.”

  “The fuck she is, Mason,” he yelled. “She’s coming home with me, not sleeping in your fucking bed. I have the same set-up, but better. Perimeter alarms, external security measures, panic room—I can keep her safe. I can make it so nothing bad happens. I want her in my home. I can protect her.”

  “Don’t I get a say in this?” came a raspy voice from behind him, and he turned to see Mica standing in the doorway.

  “No,” growled both Mason and Daniel, and she laughed soundlessly, holding a hand to her throat.

  “I can stay at home—” she started.

  Daniel interrupted her, “Mica, beautiful, I want you with me. You’ll have your own room, but I want you with me.”

  Daniel saw Mason take a half step back, and saw his lips thin and press together as they waited for her to respond. “Daniel,” she said, “I’ll be okay at home.”

  He shook his head, smiling. “Mica, might as well give it up. This is a lost argument already.”

  With a sigh, she nodded. “Okay.” Daniel looked back over at Mason and saw something flash across his face—an emotion that looked suspiciously like grief and loss.

  42 -

  Movie night

  Following the vicious beating from Nelms, Mica stayed at Daniel’s home as she recovered. He’d picked her up from Mason’s, and settled her into his guest suite. Samuel had engaged additional security, and they had access to Rebels as needed, which made them both feel better.

  As she slowly mended, Daniel spent long days with her, just resting when she slept and talking when she felt like it. He touched her often, sometimes trailing fingertips down her arm, or pressing a hand to her lower back as he directed her through the house. It was never enough, but he reminded himself of her injuries, even as he watched the bruises slowly fade.

  They grew comfortable with each other, and developed a routine. On the days he had to leave and go to work or had games, she’d be waiting for him when he returned, and together they’d watch whatever movie she picked out. Sitting side-by-side on the couch, she’d lean into him, and Daniel would steal soft kisses throughout the movie.

  Tonight, when Daniel came home, he found her dancing in the kitchen, playing Randy Montana’s “1,000 Faces”, and he’d watched her do a slow two-step around the room for a few seconds before he swooped in behind her. Wrapping an arm carefully around her waist, he pressed her back against him, keeping up the rhythm she’d established. “You look so good, beautiful.”

  She turned in his arms, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. “I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered against his lips.

  Stepping back, he asked, “What movie did you pick for us tonight?”

  With a mischievous look on her face, she said, “I was thinking Titanic again,” and laughed as he groaned.

  “Not again, Mica,” he begged, “Please, pick something else.”

  “Why don’t you pick the movie tonight?” she offered. “We’ve watched all my favorites, I think.”

  Daniel tilted his head, looking over at her. “I have an idea for one; let me see if I still have it.” He grabbed a bottle of water and headed down to the media room, opening up a cabinet of DVDs along one wall. Scanning back and forth, he saw the movie he wanted, and with an, “Ah-ha,” he grabbed it.

  “Sit on the couch,” he directed her when she came down the stairs. He finished inserting the disc and grabbed the remote, moving to sit next to her. Pressing a button on the remote, he settled back and draped an arm around her, pulling her snugly into
his side.

  He kissed the top of her head as she asked, “What movie did you pick?”

  “One of my favorites,” he laughed, “Secretary, with James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal. Forget Shades, Spader is the original Mr. Grey.”

  Turning her head, Mica froze him with a look, and he wondered if he’d offended her, but then he saw the little quirk of her lips and laughed. “I only read them, because Jess wouldn’t leave me alone,” she defended, and he threw his head back, laughing again.

  Damn, thought Daniel. He’d forgotten how hot some of the scenes in this movie were as he surreptitiously adjusted himself again. Tugging Mica closer, he watched as she shifted her thighs back and forth, and he realized she was as turned on by the movie as he was.

  Cupping her chin in his hand, he turned her face to his and kissed her, his tongue questing for entrance along the seam of her lips. She shifted, turned, and opened to him, kissing him back with a hunger that surprised him. His tongue slid along hers, tangling and then thrusting into her mouth. Slanting his lips across hers again, he drew in a shuddering breath. “Baby,” he whispered, “you taste so good, like mint and Mica.”

  Pinching the fabric of the sleeve covering her arm, he pulled it downward and slid the collar of her sweater over, exposing her collarbone and shoulder. Kissing along her skin, he heard her gasp and looked up at her. She was watching the movie again, and when he glanced over, he saw it was the scene where Maggie’s character masturbates to a fantasy. “Mica,” he whispered, his lips never leaving her flesh, “come here.” He pulled her into his lap, draping her legs along the couch cushion, where she’d been sitting.

  He pushed her sweater up, lifting it over her head, leaving her breasts covered with her lacy bra. Turning his hands to the waistband of her jeans, he stroked down along the seam between her legs with one hand, while unbuttoning the fly with the other. Tugging them over her hips, he slid them off her legs and dropped them on the floor.

  He faced her forward on his lap and spread her legs, sliding his palms up the inside of her thighs. “Mica,” he murmured, watching her face, “look at the TV. Isn’t what she’s doing beautiful? See her face?” He stroked his thumbs across the fabric covering her core, and she gasped again. “Give me your hand, baby.”

  She angled her head to look up at him, and then slowly moved one hand down to cover his, where it was touching her. He instructed her again, “Look at the TV,” and then rolled his hand over, cupping hers within his much larger one. Twining their fingers together, he slowly moved their hands between her legs, stroking slowly across the fabric again.

  Gently, he used their fingers to press the satin of her panties against her sensitive flesh, using the texture to slide and glide across her clit and between her lips. Pressing into the bundle of nerves with the heel of their joined palms, he pushed down hard, and her eyes came back to him, seeing he was looking at what they were doing together. “Eyes on the TV, baby,” he reminded her, “I want to watch you.”

  Reaching up with his other hand, he tugged on one side of her panties, tearing them at the hip and moved them to one side. With their joined fingers, he stroked down and back up, fingertips separating her there and dipping inside. Frustrated over his limited view of her, he moved, and before she knew what was happening, he had her sitting in his spot on the couch, her hand still where he’d positioned it, and he was kneeling on the floor between her spread legs. “I want inside you, baby,” he said, kissing her hip as he watched her finger slowly thrust inside herself.

  Hearing the sounds of pleasure coming from both the TV and the woman in front of him, Daniel surrendered and covered her with his mouth, sucking her clit in deep and flicking it hard with his tongue. Mica stiffened, and he looked up to see her watching him, her mouth a soundless O of surprise. Her free hand moved to his hair, and her head fell back as she felt him slide his finger inside with hers, stroking deep and hard while he continued to stimulate her clit.

  “Daniel,” came a gasp, and then he felt her clench around their fingers, pressing her hips up to push against his mouth as she went over the edge into her climax. “Oh, God,” she whispered, sliding her hand from his hair to his face. “Daniel—” she stopped, biting her lip.

  “Tell me what you want, baby,” he said, pulling their hands to his mouth and sucking her juices off slowly, provocatively sliding their fingers into and out of his mouth.

  “I want you,” she told him, sliding her thumb across his wet bottom lip, “please.” He stood, pulling his shirt off and tossing it without looking, his hands now working on his belt and jeans. Pulling his wallet out, he handed it to her without a word, and she opened it, pulling out the condom from an inner pocket while he finished undressing.

  Starting at her feet, he kissed the arch and then along the inside of her sensitive ankle, smiling when he heard her harshly indrawn breath when he bit her gently. Moving back and forth between her legs, he worked his way up, fingers cupping, massaging, and sliding along as he dragged his tongue behind each knee, dropping soft kisses on the ticklish spots. Pushing her legs apart with his shoulders, he used his fingers and thumbs to open her, and thrust his tongue deep inside. Moving up to flick her clit, he continued until he felt her shifting against the couch, and thrust his tongue inside her again, filling her while he circled her clit with one hard thumb.

  Finding a rhythm she matched with her hips, he continued to fuck her with his tongue, alternating long licks with flicks of her clit. He wrapped one strong arm around her thigh, pulling her tight against his mouth, even as she writhed on the couch. Her fingers found his hair again, tugging and pulling, holding him against her as she caught her breath. “Daniel, oh, God,” was all she got out before she broke apart under him again, her inner walls rippling and clenching on his tongue.

  Moving quickly, he turned her length-wise on the couch and laid between her legs, nestled and cradled by her hips. He took the condom from where she’d dropped it on her chest, sitting up on his knees long enough to tear open the wrapper and sheath his cock. Fisting himself firmly, he lined the engorged head with her opening. “Beautiful Mica,” he asked softly, “are you ready for me?”

  As she reached between them, slowly stroking her fingertips along his shaft, wrapping her hand around his cock alongside his own, she raised her eyes to his and nodded. “So ready, Daniel. I want you.” He needed no other invitation; sliding inside her and trapping their hands between his pelvis and hers, he stroked back out to the tip, letting her touch him again, feeling the slippery wetness gained from her arousal and climaxes.

  “Mica, baby, I’ve…God…so tight,” he muttered, shifting to prop himself up on one elbow. She kept her fingers between them, stroking herself and him as he pumped in and out of her. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he groaned, “Tell me. I don’t know how long…God…so hot.” She nodded and started moving her hips against him, taking him deeper with every stroke.

  Her fingertips were an added sensation, and when she shifted her arm and reached further to cup his balls, he drew in a surprised breath. Eyes locked on hers, he moved faster, thrusting in hard, grinding her arm into her clit with each thrust. She bit her lip hard, nodding again, and her hand moved over his hip to cup his ass, pulling him in deeper each time they came together.

  “Daniel,” she licked her lips, “nearly there.” She took in a deep breath and he crashed his mouth down on hers, kissing her hard as his hips moved at a frantic pace, chasing his own climax. “I taste myself,” she whispered, biting at his lips. Mica threw her head back, pressing hard into the arm of the couch behind her as she came, dragging him over the edge with her. He thrust hard and held, then stroked in and out again before seating himself deep inside her, growling her name into her shoulder as he came.

  They lay together for long minutes, Daniel holding her tightly as he struggled to control his breath. Covered with a sheen of sweat, they slipped along each other’s body, and she laughed when her bra pulled up over her breast, exposing her nipple. He le
aned down, gripping it between his lips and tugging, hearing her breath catch.

  “I didn’t even make it here, did I?” he teased, licking her breast and nipple, and then blowing a cool stream of air across it, he watched it pebble and harden. “Next time,” he promised her, and watched the light come into her eyes, “next time, baby.”

  ***

  It wasn’t long until she had effectively moved into his bedroom, saying she slept better when she was lying next to him. He loved having her in his home, and his bed, and loved even more being able to take care of her. He reveled in getting to know her better.

  Before he knew it, it was only a few days until Christmas. Daniel had previously talked Mica into staying with him through the holidays; she was easy to convince.

  They went to a party at Jackson’s to see their friends, and she laughed hard at the look on Mason’s face when Brandy presented him with a platter of his favorite cupcakes as his gift. Daniel watched her move through the room, pausing beside each person or group, and talking familiarly with the players and club members alike. She seemed very at home and comfortable, but she looked for him often, smiling when her eyes met his across the room.

  They spent Christmas Day in Mukwonago with his family, where they had relaxed and enjoyed both each other and the company. She worked alongside his mother in the kitchen, fixing dinner for Daniel and his two brothers, teasing and laughing with them. After eating, she snuggled into his side on the couch, dozing off with her head on his chest. His arms around her, he watched football without really seeing the game; his focus was on the warmth blanketing him, and her calm, steady breath.

  His mom came in, seeing them nestled on the couch, and told him quietly she’d made up his room for them, hoping they’d stay the night. He kissed the top of Mica’s head, nodding at his mom. She reached out and cupped his cheek, saying, “I really like her, Danny. She’s a keeper, son.”