Joyride: (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series)

by DD Prince

  I turned my head away. “Off me.”

  He chuckled.

  “Get off,” I ordered.

  “Oh yeah, baby. Let’s get off.” He grinded against me and he was hard.

  I smacked him across the face and he jolted. I’d hit him pretty hard.

  “Get out of here,” I hollered.

  “That’s it!” he declared and then flipped me, and I was over his lap and he was yanking my dress pants downwards. They didn’t go far, the waistband didn’t allow for it, so he got his hand underneath and ripped the fly open and then yanked them. I heard the fabric protest as he yanked.

  “Hey!”

  I did not think so.

  He slapped my ass.

  Ow. Fucking ow!

  And then he hauled my panties down and smacked it again, this time on my bare ass!

  “Rider Valentine!” I screeched.

  “You gotta learn to stop slappin’ me. Next time, I don’t just spank this sexy, sexy ass. Next time, I tie you down and make you edge until you’re pleading for mercy.”

  I kicked and writhed, fighting as hard as I could, but he had a firm hold of me.

  He ran his palm up and down my bare butt and then his finger slipped down in between my ass cheeks and he got a finger part way inside me.

  “No!” I hollered, “Don’t you dare.” I struggled like my life depended on it, and got away from him.

  I was on my feet, yanking my pants up.

  He leaned back on his elbows and smirked at me.

  I shook my head.

  My ass was feeling like it was on fire.

  “What do you want for dinner?” he asked, casually.

  “Huh?”

  “Dinner.”

  I looked at him like he was insane. Because, he was insane!

  I stood there, rubbing my fanny, and staring at him in disbelief. He wandered out of the room. I kept standing there, dumbstruck.

  Pippa poked her head in. “Goin’ to Joe’s. Spending the night. See you in the morning.”

  “Don’t leave me!” I hissed.

  She looked at me with confusion.

  “He... don’t leave me with him!”

  She rolled her eyes. “C’mon. Don’t be silly.”

  “No, Pip. Seriously. He just gave me a spanking. A spanking!”

  “She slapped me in the face!” Rider called out, defending himself.

  Damn it.

  Pippa smirked. “I’m goin’. And for the record, I’m Team Rider.”

  My mouth dropped. Horrified.

  “I talked to him at least four times while you guys were gone. And I listened to your side today, and I’m sorry, but… Team Rider. Let that wall down, Jenna. If you don’t, some other girl will. And then how will you feel?”

  I gasped. I was speechless.

  She snickered and hooked her overnight bag over her shoulder, and then she left.

  Turncoat.

  “How ‘bout pasta and chicken?” Rider called in. “You got that stuff here. Don’t think we even need to hit a store.”

  “I don’t cook,” I shouted. Pippa cooked. I didn’t.

  “I do,” he informed. “Groceries. Cute animals. The whole shebang. Or did you forget?”

  I didn’t answer him. I went into my bathroom, locked the door, and took a long soak in bubbles with a sparkly pink bath bomb.

  I stayed in there until I was way too pruny, and then when I came out, I locked my bedroom door and got into bed. I was in the most un-sexy pajamas I owned. They were flannel man-style pajamas in pink and grey checkerboard. I had fluffy pink slipper-socks on, and my hair up in a sloppy bun. I got my bag from the floor and grabbed my phone and curled up in bed, scrolling through Instagram.

  My stomach was growling. I could smell the food and it smelled good. I smelled what smelled like garlic bread. And I couldn’t resist it any longer.

  Finally, I stomped out.

  If he was going to cook food in my kitchen, I guess I’d eat it. I hadn’t eaten all day. Jesse dropped off submarine sandwiches, bringing me an eggplant parm one at Rider’s behest, and I never ate it. It was still in the fridge in the utility room of the shop.

  “I was just about to come get you,” he said. I looked around. It was ready. Even though the kitchen was kind of trashed from the mess he’d made, he’d even set the table with candles and everything.

  I folded my arms across my chest.

  “Why are you bothering?” I asked.

  “Because, I’m taking care of my girl. Scoot said you didn’t eat all day. Pippa said you were a wreck. So did Ella. I’d’ve run you that bubble bath if you hadn’t run it yourself. Now, I’m gonna feed you and then…” he looked off into space and then waved the wooden spoon in his hand around in the air, “Give ya three or four orgasms.” He shrugged, “Yeah. That should do it.”

  I could not believe him.

  He put the spoon down and grabbed two plates from the counter. They were filled with Fettucine Alfredo, broccoli florets, and topped with bacon and parmesan. There were strips of grilled chicken in there, too. He poured me a glass of red wine and grabbed himself a bottle of beer, and then he sat down. There were bread sticks there in a basket. Where he heck did those come from?

  “Are these from Olive Garden?” I asked, lifting a bread stick.

  “Yeah. Got Pudge to grab them for us. He dropped them off five minutes ago. I cooked the rest. But these are the shit, so I asked him to grab ‘em.”

  I effing loved Olive Garden bread sticks.

  “Did Ella tell you how much I love these bread sticks?”

  Was Ella scheming with Pippa?

  He shook his head innocently, “I got them ‘cuz I like them, and I knew Pudge was on his way back and would pass it on his way home.”

  I sat down. I had no idea who Pudge was, but I didn’t care. I was famished.

  I started to eat and felt like there was a lump in my throat. I had to stop myself from having a repeat of the night he made me eat Bambi. I couldn’t burst into tears every time he cooked food for me.

  Wait. This had to be the last time he cooked food for me. I had to make this stop.

  I ate two bread sticks and half the plate of pasta (and it was really, really good) and I could not take it anymore. No crying. I had to stop myself from crying. So instead, I suddenly got very, very angry.

  I downed my glass of wine and jumped to my feet.

  “This is bullshit!” I snapped.

  His fork was half way to his mouth and he was frozen, staring at me, looking thrown off.

  “You have to go.”

  “No,” he said and shoved that forkful of food in his mouth.

  “No?” I challenged.

  He took his time chewing, while I waited for him to answer. Finally, he swallowed and got up. “More wine?” he moved toward my fridge.

  I moved toward him and I shoved him from behind.

  “You have to go.”

  He spun around, and his brows went up.

  “You want me to get pushy, too?” he challenged.

  I shoved him again. “This needs to st-op.”

  Damn voice breaking in the middle like that.

  “Jenna.” His voice went sweet.

  “No!” I pointed at him.

  “Don’t you point at me, Jenna Murdoch!” he said, teasingly, mockingly, and exaggeratedly went to slap my finger in a girlie slap way. I hauled off and meant to punch him in the arm, but he caught my fist before it hit the target.

  Yeah, yeah… I know it’s not cool to be violent. To have a double standard. But, this guy was driving me to violence! He wouldn’t leave. He was acting like we were still together. And if he kept his shit up, I’d have to cave, and caving would inevitably lead to heartache. More heartache. My heart already hurt too fucking much.

  He twisted me around so that I was facing the wall. My eyes closed out of frustration.

  “You mad at me? Good. I want emotion from you. I want it all. Give it to me. Let’s fight this out. Let’s do what w
e need to do to get back on track. If I have to force a reaction out of you, so be it, but we’re gonna be getting back on track, Jenna.” He kissed my collar bone.

  I spun around. He let me. We were facing one another.

  “Go.”

  “Go ahead and hit me then. Get your frustrations out. I know this has been frustrating. I know you’re pissed at me. But I’m not giving up here. A relationship is supposed to have ups and downs. Both people in it need to work at it sometimes. I’m willing to do the work. You gotta be, too. Let’s fight it out. Then we’ll make up.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  I huffed. “Fighting is not foreplay, Rider Valentine!”

  “Think you’re wrong there, gorgeous. Works out fuckin’ great. Cause one minute, you’re yellin’ at me. The next minute, my hand is in your panties and your tongue is in my mouth… what’s not healthy about that?”

  And then… and then I don’t know what came over me. The idea of his hand in my panties and my tongue in his mouth? I threw myself at him.

  And he caught me, both hands on my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist and attacked his mouth with mine. He walked us to the bedroom and we went crashing down onto my bed, then he rolled, so he was on his back, me on top.

  My mouth was on his, my hands in his hair. I was practically humping him, needing friction through my crazy-unsexy flannel pajamas. He started pulling the pants and my undies down. I began undoing the buttons on his black button-down shirt.

  I released the elastic holding my hair in a bun and my hair went spilling down around my shoulders. I pulled the elastic out of his and his went spilling over me as he was turning me over to my back and undoing my pajama top’s buttons.

  I raked my nails up his back under the t-shirt he had on underneath and he arched his back and hissed.

  I did it again. Angrily.

  And his eyes lit with something that turned me to a puddle of … horny. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t articulate. I could only feel.

  I grabbed his hair and dragged his mouth to mine.

  “Hate fucking,” he said. “Great idea, right? Take your frustrations out on my cock, gorgeous girl. I can take it.”

  That didn’t piss me off. If anything, it fueled my lust. Yeah, I was going to unleash all my frustration right there, right then.

  I kissed him feverishly. My tongue sought his and twisted up with it. And then my nails went down the back of his jeans and dug into his ass cheeks.

  He thrust his pelvis at me and we rolled again, toward the middle of the bed, me on top. I scampered up to my knees, yanked his zipper down, yanked him out, lined him up, and slammed down on him, taking him in to the root in one quick motion.

  Ouch. Too fast. I winced, but it didn’t stop me. His hands went to my boobs. I slapped them away and then I slapped his face.

  His eyes went wide, and he grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind my back, sat up with him still inside me, and attacked my throat with his teeth.

  My head rolled back, and I let out a breathy moan, got a hand free, and grabbed his throat and shoved his head back. He landed on his back, catching my wrist as he went down. He bit down on it and growled at me.

  I moaned and rocked forward. His fingers went between my legs and started rubbing my clit. I rocked to and fro some more, then I attacked his throat with my teeth. He raked his nails up my back. They weren’t long, but I still felt the scrape. It felt amazing. That, with everything else going on, the friction inside, his fingers circling my clit. I shivered and started to come. Hard. Loud. Spectacularly. Saying his name.

  I collapsed on top of him for about three beats, and then he flipped me and threw my legs up over his shoulders and slammed back inside of me. I yelped and grabbed for his hips to keep him connected with me. My eyes rolled back in my head and the orgasm I thought was over wasn’t. It started back up again! I was so over sensitized, I was whimpering like a puppy. Trying to get away and keep him attached to me at the same time. I was writhing. And he wasn’t stopping.

  He was twisting my nipples, biting my shoulder, nipping at my neck, fucking me so hard, skin slapping against skin, him fucking me at a weird sort of diagonal angle that felt just so good that I thought I was going to die. And then he was exploding in me. I felt it as he powered forward and the veins in his neck were straining. His mouth was open and then he let out a primal-sounding grunt that melted into a vibrating exhale. He pulled my legs down and then went to a complete dead weight on top of me.

  I was breathing hard. So hard, having trouble catching my breath.

  My girl-parts were on perma-tingle mode. They felt like they’d never be normal. My nipples were actually buzzing, or so it felt like.

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he said into my ear in a low and husky sexy voice. “See? Hate fucking can be like couples’ therapy.”

  I blinked.

  He kissed my lips, backed up on his knees, smiling at me, and then he pulled the blanket across to cover us up. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me tight. “Any time you get pissed at me, you’re welcome to do that to bleed out that rage, okay, beautiful?” He kissed my mouth tenderly. So tenderly. And then he sifted his fingers through my hair and kissed one and then the other eyelid.

  I started to panic. I had to go. I had to go!

  “Shhh.” He pulled me tight to him and shifted so that my head was on his chest. “Listen, Jenna. Just listen.”

  God, no. I was gonna cry. I couldn’t listen. I’d wanna listen until the day I died if I didn’t get away from him right effing now.

  I pulled away. “I have to pee.”

  He hesitated.

  “Badly,” I added.

  He let me go.

  I headed out the door instead of to the ensuite bathroom.

  “Where ya goin?” He sat up.

  “The other bathroom. I … need something in there.”

  Once I cleared the doorframe of my room, I took three steps and then ran the rest of the way to Pippa’s bedroom and rifled through her closet until finding and throwing on Capri yoga pants, a tank top, and a sweatshirt. I slipped on a pair of her ballet flats, then quickly went pee in the other bathroom and then I ran for it, grabbing my keys and nothing else and dashing down the stairs to get to my car, thinking Oh God, what have I done?

  That was how I ended up in Ella’s bed.

  19

  The next morning, Deacon came in, bringing us both coffee. Ella was already in the shower, so it was just me lying there, trying to wake up, but also trying not to let my brain punish me for last night’s actions by replaying them on a loop some more. They’d done that half the night.

  “Ride’s waitin’ for you. He crashed in Beau’s playroom on an air mattress last night.” Deacon arched his back, his hand at the small of it. “That room is full of air mattresses and every one of them sucks.”

  I winced. “Sorry.” And then what he’d said registered. “What? Rider or Beau slept there. What?”

  “Ride slept in there. Had to tell him you were here, babe,” Deacon told me. “He was out of his mind last night, flipped that the Jackals might get to you.”

  Shit.

  “He wanted to come up here last night. I talked him down. Convinced him to let you sleep.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He waved his hand in a ‘don’t worry’ gesture.

  “Where’s the rest of your family?” I asked. “Everyone’s staying here?”

  “Spence, me, and Dad were in Beau’s playroom. Dad on a pull-out, us on air mattresses. Jojo’s in Beau’s bedroom. Beau was sleepin’ in the play room with Dad and Spence, on his own air mattress with Chakotay, thinkin’ it was a bro party, but when Ride got here, Rob pulled him and put him in bed with his ma so Ride could crash on that air mattress. Rob slept on the couch. Kid’s a sprawler.”

  A full house. That was already full, and I’d gone and made more than one person uncomfortable last night.

  Shoot. Me and my effing drama.

  �
�Ride’s in the playroom waitin’ to talk to ya,” he repeated. “Don’t dodge him and make him worry about you again.”

  “I won’t. Sorry to be such a pain in the ass, Deacon,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at me and went to the bathroom. I could hear the shower running so I was guessing he was climbing in with Ella. I vacated the premises, hesitantly climbing down the attic stairs to the second floor. Rider wasn’t there.

  I could hear a hair dryer going in the bathroom and all the other doors were opened, rooms empty, so I assumed Jojo was in the bathroom. I went down to the main floor and could see and smell the makings of breakfast preparations in progress, but the kitchen was empty of people. I looked out the window. I saw Rider coming toward the house. From my parent’s lawn. Oh God. What?

  His expression was cool, almost cold.

  I backed away from the sink and stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, feeling sick to my stomach. Feeling all sorts of ugliness crash over me wave after wave.

  I’d taken off and made him worry. Worry about me with the Wyld Jackals out there threatening. I was a horrible witch. That didn’t even dawn on me last night.

  Deke came in, through the breezeway that led between the garage and the kitchen. That’s where Ella’s dad always hung out, in his man cave with his buddies, his music, and his bongs. Deke went straight to the coffee pot, two empty mugs in hand.

  “Pink Lady,” he greeted with a wink. I heard peals of male laughter from multiple voices on the other side of that breezeway and knew that the gang was hanging out in the garage.

  Rider stepped into the kitchen and his eyes landed on me. Cold. Angry.

  I winced internally. Shit. I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Deke.

  “Jennajennajenna. Jenna! Look!” Beau, Ella’s six-year-old brother, skidded into the kitchen and saw me and Rider in a face-off.

  “Deacon got me a new shirt!” He was wearing a little Dominion Brotherhood hoodie. He looked adorable.

  “Nice!” I said with enthusiasm, ruffling his blond hair.

  “You’re marryin’ Deacon’s brother?” he asked.

  I froze.

  “’Cuz Lella is for sure gonna marry Deacon and you’re already family so that’ll make you like… double family.”