Joyride: (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series)

by DD Prince

  Standing over me was a massive blond Nordic God-looking guy wearing jeans and a sky-blue t-shirt that was the same shade as his eyes. He had short blond hair and a blond trimmed mustache and beard, and his veiny arms were the size of tree trunks. They were also completely covered in black tribal patterns.

  “I’m Brady. You need anything?”

  I turned my back to him and put the pillow over my head with my free hand.

  “Babe? You need to use the can, or you want somethin’ to drink or anything?”

  I ignored him.

  “All right. Just holler. Hear you’re good at that.”

  The light went off and the door clicked shut.

  Was that a reference to my temper or the sounds of us having sex? Ugh.

  This situation was fucked. FUCKED. I fall for a gorgeous guy who seems to be interested. We have great sex and fun banter, but he keeps standing me up due to drama with his MC. Ongoing drama that should’ve been my red flag, but I ignored it. Like a dummy all fogged by his pierced thick cock.

  We have sex again and then he makes it crystal clear, in a way that can’t be described as anything but a dick way, that it’s not gonna be anything else. I’m suddenly under threat, only because of my association with him, and suitably pissed off because of what I’ve learned about him and out of that, he starts acting like he’s crazy about me and that fighting with me is foreplay. He’s had me kidnapped, keeps my phone, keeps cuffing me to the bed, and he had sex with me while I was sleeping. Even though he says he only barely got off the other times he fucked me. The sex that was the best sex of my life was bad for him.

  How mortifying. But then I considered that video and the kind of sex he obviously liked. The things he tried to do. The dirty-talking he tried to get me to participate in. He was a pig. A pervert. Plain and simple.

  A little voice in my head nudged that it was maybe kind of gallant that he was going all alpha caveman and keeping me here to keep me safe, but I didn’t let that voice get any louder. Because it might not mean anything.

  And even if I meant something to him, it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t let my guard down. If I let my guard down, he had the ability to stomp on my heart even worse than Michael did. Telling me I was lousy in bed hurt almost as much as what Michael did. That was an asshole move and I was not down with that. That was not the basis for a relationship. Being an alpha-hole and hating my sex skills?

  I was older, wiser, more jaded, and better at hiding my pain than I’d been seven years earlier with Michael.

  We’d had sex twice. This wasn’t a relationship. This was barely an acquaintance.

  And some guys wanted to slit my throat because of a guy I was acquaintances with. I was in danger of being kidnapped and sexually assaulted and then murdered. And Ella was in some sort of trouble right now that meant he had to drive off in the middle of the night to wade in, and I had no idea what it was.

  I prayed that she was okay and that the Wyld Jackals hadn’t gotten anywhere near her. How dare he tell me he had to help Ella and then not tell me what was up! He leaves me overnight to stew. Handcuffed. Asshole. Asshole who has me kidnapped to save me from being kidnapped! My head was spinning.

  The reality of my situation had hit me and was hitting me hard. It pounded around in my brain half the night.

  ***

  I woke up to the clink of my handcuff being uncuffed.

  “Hey.” Brady leaned over. I rubbed my eye with my other hand and flexed that one, trying to get rid of the pins and needles.

  “You don’t gotta get up. I’m outside workin’ out and didn’t wanna not hear if you hollered for me.”

  “Couldn’t Bronto have listened for me?”

  “Bronto’ll be givin’ ya a wide berth,” he said with a snicker and winked.

  He was now in a skin tight white tee and track pants. Grey ones. That outlined his… whoa. I quickly looked back up to his face. The guy’s arms were so muscular and veiny he looked like he was jacked up on steroids or something.

  He walked away, and I could see his butt was just as buff.

  I blinked twice. Who knew there were so many hot bikers?

  “Wait. What’s happened? Is Ella okay? Did you hear from Rider?”

  “All’s good now. They put her jackoff ex in the hospital.”

  “What? Jay? Why?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t remember the fucker’s name. He’s lucky he just got roughed up after the shit he pulled.”

  “Huh? What shit?”

  He looked at me curiously.

  “I’m Ella’s best friend and I’m incommunicado. Out of the loop. Fill me in!”

  “He was workin’ with the enemy to try to abduct Ella and ambush the brothers at the same time.”

  My eyes boinged.

  “They never got that far. Ride’ll be here soon. He’s just gettin’ checked out with Deke at the hospital. I’ll leave the handcuff off. So long as you behave.” He winked at me and moved away.

  “What? Why?”

  “The enemy set the Aberdeen clubhouse on fire this mornin’. Burnt the bar out. Ride’s fine. He fell out a window helpin’ Spence get Chakotay out.”

  My body jolted in shock. “Cha-who?”

  “Spence’s dog. Spence, Ride, and Deke were sleepin’ when they set the building ablaze. Molotov cocktail. I just talked to Ride. He’ll be here soon. Just getting’ the VP, er… his dad checked. His dad used to be my VP. Keep forgettin’, he’s Prez there now. Then he’ll be on his way here. You want coffee? I can put it on while I mix up a shake.”

  “I’ll get it. Go ahead and work out.”

  He gave me a smile and moved out of the room.

  I ran to the bathroom. I’d been holding it half the night.

  Holy crap. There was a lot that’d happened the night before.

  Jay in the hospital after a kidnap ploy? Deke, Spencer, and Rider’s clubhouse / apartment and their bar set on fire? I had to push away the feelings I had at the notion of Rider being burnt to death. My heart hurt.

  I peed for what felt like ten minutes, splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth. I moved to the kitchen. Bronto was there, drinking from a Redbull can. He moved back and gave me room.

  I ignored him and started rooting for coffee supplies. He passed me filters.

  I looked up at him. When our eyes met I saw he was looking at me cautiously.

  “Everyone’s okay? The fire?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Jess and Scott were already outside, so they saw. They called the fire department. They worked together. Everyone’s breathing.”

  I let out a breath. “Where’s Ella?”

  “Far’s I know, she was home safe with Deacon when it happened.”

  “Can I call her?”

  Brady moved into the kitchen and leaned past me to reach into the fridge for a gallon of milk, which he mixed with his powder. The powder bottle said, ‘All Natural’. If those muscles were all natural, not steroids? Wow.

  “No phone calls, sorry, babe. You need somethin’ you ask me till your old man gets here. Not Teddy Bear.”

  “My old… what?”

  “Rider,” he looked at me like I was dimwitted.

  I rolled my eyes. “Rider and I are not together. And who is Teddy Bear?” I asked.

  “Brontosaurus here.” Brady was shaking a lidded cup with his powder and the milk. Bronto moved out of the kitchen, trying to look casual.

  “Ella nicknamed him that or somethin’. It stuck, particularly since he’s afraid of ya.”

  Bronto shot Brady a dirty look, “Teddy Bear isn’t any worse than Cuddle Bear.” He sipped his energy drink some more.

  Brady threw his head back and laughed heartily.

  Okay, whatever that meant.

  And holy crap, when he laughed like that he looked like an extra-tall, extra-bearded, and extra-jacked Jax Teller.

  Whoa. I shook off that thought.

  “You and Ride aren’t together?” Brady asked.

  “Uh no,” I said.


  His eyes traveled the length of me. And I jolted. He looked at me like he could see me naked through my clothes.

  “They’re together,” Bronto piped up.

  Both Brady and I looked to Bronto.

  “We are not!” I said.

  Bronto looked to Brady. “To Ride, they are.”

  Brady gave a tight smile with a nod. “You are.”

  “To me, we’re not,” I snapped.

  “Doesn’t matter. If Ride says you are, then you are.” Brady shrugged and sipped his shake.

  “You know Ella?” I asked, changing the direction of this ridiculous conversation.

  “Yeah. Met her at the clubhouse on the weekend. She was drunk as fuck, hanging outside my bedroom door about to pass out in the hallway in just her man’s shirt. Sweet girl. She’s a riot.”

  I gave my head a shake. Ella. God, I needed to talk to her. I needed to sit and go over everything, sift through it scene by scene, word by word. Even the devastating words. My heart hurt way too much.

  I hit the button for the coffee and then followed Bronto to the family room.

  “Not afraid of ya, Jenna. Just don’t like you mad at me,” Bronto mumbled, not looking at me.

  “Rider fell out a window?” I asked, feeling my posture soften. This big biker was definitely a teddy bear.

  Bronto’s eyes met mine and he nodded. “Not a far fall. He and Spence both had to take a bit of a tumble working to get Deke and the dog out. Nothing’s broken.”

  I shook my head and sat.

  “Wanna watch more Breaking Bad? They have the whole series on Blu-Ray. Or you can pick a movie?” Bronto offered, gesturing to a bookshelf filled with DVDs.

  I looked into the cabinet of movies and there were four shelves of guy movies, but surprisingly, one entire shelf of chick flicks. I grabbed Pretty Woman and popped it in. I needed something else to focus on for the moment.

  Bronto didn’t utter a word of complaint.

  ***

  Bronto and I watched the movie while Brady worked out, the whole time, outside, me having a front row seat on the other side of the picture window. To be honest, I might’ve watched Brady more than I watched Julia Roberts and Richard Gere.

  Brady worked out with ropes, carrying tires back and forth in what looked like a relay race, checking his stop watch and timing himself. He did push-ups, pull-ups on a gazebo at the side. Watching his muscles move was mesmerizing. He was a beast.

  He came in near the end of the movie and I asked, “Training for a competition?”

  “Just a workout. Grabbin’ a shower.”

  Wow. I could use a shower myself after watching that. A cold one.

  I shook my daze off.

  Bronto snickered, knowingly.

  “Perv,” he accused.

  I gasped in surprise. “No!”

  He laughed. “Yeah.”

  I shook my head and ignored him.

  “Want some Reese Puffs?” Bronto asked.

  “Yeah, okay,” I said.

  He got up to get us some. We both ate two bowls of it.

  An hour later, I decided to get a shower, too. The bunkbed room’s closet was stocked with towels. And it was a good thing, because I had to use some to mop up the lake Brady left behind in the bathroom. There was a rack of hooks on the back of the door. I hung them all up, and climbed into the shower.

  After my hair was washed, in mid body-lather, I realized I wasn’t alone. I jolted in horror, but saw it was Rider was in here with me, despite the locked door. Naked. In the shower with me.

  I glared at the black heart tattoo, remembering that video.

  “What the eff?” I grumbled at him. Mad, but relieved, in a way, it was just him.

  He smiled at me and then his eyes moved down to my lathered-up boobs.

  “Did you land on your head when you fell out that window?” I bit off.

  He laughed while pulling me closer. I gave him a shove and pushed my way out, getting momentarily tangled up in the shower curtain, and he didn’t help me, just watched me. I nearly slipped on the again soaking-wet bathroom floor, but caught myself.

  I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my nakedness and stormed into the bedroom, hair dripping water down my body. It was then I realized I had nothing to wear and zipped into the other bedroom, the bunk bed one. I pushed away thoughts of the big scrapes down his stomach, arm, and thigh that I’d seen. I had to ignore it, or I’d feel sorry for him and think about how terrifying it would’ve been to get caught in a fire and fall while climbing out of a window.

  I rifled through a closet that was packed to the brim with men’s clothes, blankets, and towels. I found men’s grey sweatpants with a drawstring that I swam in, but I didn’t care. I rolled the pantlegs up and pulled the drawstring tight.

  I skipped undies, of course. Though there were two shelves of boxers and boxer briefs. I wasn’t wearing some unknown person’s underwear or putting my worn ones back on. I’d wear a pair if they were the underwear of my guy.

  Kevin, the guy I dated before my last boyfriend Ryan, thought it was cute that I was always stealing clean underwear when I stayed at his place when we stayed in bed on Sundays. He loved it. Men’s boxer briefs were super comfortable. Especially after sex.

  But now? I didn’t have a guy. Kevin and I had been going nowhere, so I’d ended things. He was always making comments about me being high maintenance. Besides, we didn’t have much going for us other than stay-in-bed Sundays. Kevin was good with his tongue. But as good as he was, he never got the noises from me that Rider did.

  I pushed that thought away, firmly. Over a cliff.

  Ryan ended things with me, because I was too high maintenance, too.

  And Rider certainly wasn’t my guy.

  I only hoped whoever owned these track pants didn’t also go commando in them.

  I carefully got dressed under my towel in case anyone else tried to come in. I threw a grey Adidas hoodie on top that was so big on me I could’ve swam in it. I had no bra on, because he’d had me kidnapped on Braless Sunday (the new name for the former Stay-in-Bed Sunday).

  I also stole a pair of black tube socks and put them on and then grabbed my bag to look for a comb, sitting down in the living area.

  He came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, looking hotter than should be legal. And I could see injuries from his fall even more clearly. And I felt like an asshole for my flippant comment about falling on his head. Not to mention when I told him to ‘fuck off and die’.

  He went into the bedroom with the bunk beds, presumably to get clothing, so I aimed my gaze out the window. The place was well-hidden in the trees and some of the leaves were starting to change color. I stewed in my self-torture until he came out, in jeans and a white t-shirt with a Harley Davidson logo on it. Bare feet. His long wet hair slicked back by a comb. He had a black hooded sweatshirt in his right hand.

  He ran his fingers on his left hand to slick back his wet hair some more and leaned against the wall in the opening of the hallway, leveling a very serious gaze on me. And then he tossed the sweatshirt at me.

  “Wear that instead.” It was a Dominion Brotherhood hoodie.

  “Yeah, no. I’m good.” I glared at the shirt that’d landed beside me.

  “Those’re my sweatpants you’ve got on, but you’re wearing Spence’s sweatshirt right now. Take it off. Wear that.”

  I laughed. Wow. This was rich.

  I ignored his dirty looks and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Change the sweatshirt, Jenna.” He said.

  “Pfff. Make me.”

  That was the way wrong response.

  He moved toward me quickly, grabbing me by the shirt while snatching up the shirt he’d thrown on me, making me scamper back. He held it in front of me.

  “Gladly.”

  “Back off!” I barked.

  “Put it on, or I’ll do it,” he barked back, not a trace of humor in his voice, nor on his face.

  The look on
his face, the intensity of his gaze, so serious, my heart stuttered.

  I stomped down the hall, and closed myself up in the bedroom we’d slept in. I’d taken the hoodie with me, so I tossed it to the floor and climbed into the bed.

  I seethed for a bit and then I guess I drifted off, because one minute I’m looking out the window and it was sunny and then it was dark, and I was flailing, panicked. And the shirt I had on was sliding up and over my face.

  What the fuck?

  “This is comin’ fucking off.” It was him. He pulled the shirt over my head, leaving my upper body naked.

  “Seriously?” I hissed, covering my boobs.

  “Seriously.” He, straddling me, dropped the other sweatshirt over my head and then climbed off, heading toward the door with the other sweatshirt.

  I pushed my arms through the armholes. It was only a little roomy on me. It didn’t even seem like it’d fit him. And it had that soft feeling inside like a brand-new hoodie that hadn’t been worn.

  After ages, I wandered out and found him sitting on a couch, heard him talking on the phone.

  “No. It’s gonna need to be completely rebuilt. But it’s not enough for a clubhouse. We need a clubhouse within a fortress, like there where we can keep all our women safe when shit amps up like this.” His eyes were on me. I walked past him to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out a Coke, screwing my face up as I much preferred Pepsi. I sat on the couch opposite him and kept my eyes on him as I popped the tab open.

  His eyes were still on me and they were burning a trail straight through me. Why was he looking at me like that?

  He kept talking. “No. Chakotay’s good. Spence took him to the vet before he even got himself checked out. Dad and Spence are staying at Ella’s for now. Dad says they’ll probably rent a house until they find the right place… Yeah, well if she shows, tell her nothing. She doesn’t need to know squat. Naw, I’ll call her when I get a chance. Got my hands full right now. Brady’ll stay there the night with you. Boys’ll patrol regularly throughout the night. I’ll come get you in the morning. She shows, don’t tell her we’re comin’ and that you’re goin’ or she might let that slip, too. Yeah…Okay. See ya. Love you, too.” He ended the call.