He craned his neck and let out a grunt. He directed my attention to his bulging bicep, then lower, to his meaty fists, ready to fight for me. “Yeah, I’m not sure about that. This guy comes around again, are you going to be prepared? I won’t hurt him, but I’ll scare him enough where he won’t mess with you again. You sure you don’t want me to do that?”
“I told you already I’m fine.” I lashed out at him with a threatening look that should’ve sent him a couple steps back. He got closer.
“What’s your problem? Why are you running from a good thing?”
His hands dropped to my hips. Fire swept through me, burning all my indecision, in its wake a new woman rising, one which would take all the Red she could get. Digging into my sides, binding me, he forced me against him.
Here I was trying to infiltrate their group...and I had been the one infiltrated.
It felt like defeat. But a sweet defeat.
“I want you. It’s pretty fucking obvious. If you need me to show you, I will.”
Before I could reply, he pressed his lips to mine. Trembling, whimpering, I was all his as he drove them apart. I took a deep inhalation, sucking in his masculine, leather scent. Our tongues went mad, frantically playing. My hands, they were possessed, roaming over his solid form, obsessed with what could be mine.
I pulled him in, and then startled, I let go. His hard cock pressed against my stomach. Only one kiss, and he was that fired up? My weight shifted back, but he swept me up in his arms, his cock so hot it could brand me.
Driving in again, he crushed my lips then shoved them open to plunder. Red broke away when I moaned. A brief moment to breathe would be his downfall...something told me that I needed to stop. Not to save my job. It was fear.
It had been so long since I had a kiss, never mind a passionate, magical one like that. I wasn’t sure what I was falling into. I was a careful woman. Red, whose world was ruled by instinct, scared me.
“Stop,” I managed to say. It wasn’t forceful but it worked.
His brows furrowed, hard lines creasing his beautiful face. I wasn’t sure if I was going to see him go “Red” again. I hoped not. I didn’t want to see him get angry at me like he did to Lee, but if he did, that would tell me something. I could never trust him.
“Is there a good reason why you stopped me? If not, I’m going to keep going.”
“There’s a good reason,” I said. Not coming up with one in time, I blurted out, “I’ve got to go back to work.”
“I don’t think you understand how this works. You want protection. I can give you that.”
He sneered like a rabid dog that had been denied its dinner. It was a scary look that made me tremble for the complete opposite reason minutes ago. It gave me an excuse to scamper off.
“You’re going to tell me you didn’t feel that?”
“I need to go to work,” I said again, this time more forceful. I managed to break free.
“Next time Lee is an asshole, I won’t be around to stop him.”
“I don’t believe you.” I called his bluff. It would be out of character if he didn’t... Out of character? What was I saying? Was I saying Red had character?
“I don’t owe you anything,” I said flatly, staring him down.
“After that kiss, you owe it to both of us to stop with the bullshit.”
I let out a deep sigh, more like an angry, exhausted growl. “You’re good at wearing me down.”
“I don’t believe that, either. I’m good at exciting you.”
I placed my hand on his chest to get him to stop. Wrong move. The touch entangled me again in his web of lust. Why did he have to feel so right? Protective. Solid. Enticing.
Maybe I could let him down easily. Retreat. Gather my thoughts, then I could face him again, when I wasn’t so horny and my brain wasn’t mush. “I tell you what, you let me go work, and tomorrow we’ll go for another ride. Okay?” That sounded like a nice compromise, also a way for me to run before I melted to a puddle at his boots.
“That ride will be your downfall.”
“Maybe it will. You’ll have to wait and see.”
He left, not before giving my ass a solid spank. I gasped. I panted for air while hiding my rosy cheeks.
“Can’t wait to see that sweet tail on the back of my bike. You’re on, sweet thing.”
So far, so good. The kiss was a slip-up. But how was I supposed to string around this horny animal without giving him a treat every once in a while? I heard his motorcycle rev from outside. I wished I could’ve gone with him, but I had a job to do.
It was a long, stressful day at the diner. All I wanted to do was have a bath and read a book. I could play the part of someone who couldn’t afford nice, lavish things, since I’d been living it my whole life. When Wyatt told me that he needed me to stay in a one-bedroom near the poverty line, I said, “Under one condition, it needs to have a nice bathroom with a big tub.”
Wyatt understood a girl’s need for a nice bathroom. He was good like that.
My apartment was a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room. The bathroom was spacious, the big, blue tub from the late 80s. The walls were all redone with new paint and the sink and cabinet was brand new too. There wasn’t much to complain about. Right now, I didn’t dare. All I thought about was stripping and sliding into the cool water. It had been sweltering, chokingly hot outside. The diner had kept me running.
Stripping out of my white shirt and my black pants, I let the ladies out, pleased to be freed. I started the water, squirted some bubbles in, and dropped my black panties. My creamy white skin showed some color. Being in the desert was nice for that.
My nipples looked perky and ripe. My bush was a landing strip. Should I shave it? What should I wear tomorrow? I should wear something not too formal, but not too revealing. I would need to be prepared for Red’s ride. Anticipating it too much? A little too much.
Cutting off the bath water, I slipped in. “That’s perfect,” I moaned and kicked my feet out and curled my toes. If there was anything that could make a stressful day better, it was a long, warm bath.
Few days could beat the stress of a fight between MC members over spanking my ass. Then there was the kiss from Red. A chuckle escaped my lips when I thought about it. I groaned “Oh, God” at myself in response.
It had been a long time since I was kissed like that. My body reminded me. One kiss wasn’t enough. Those lips hooked me. Red knew it. That was the worst part. He knew my weaknesses. Every step I made, somehow I got closer to him.
Spreading my legs onto the side of the tub, I leaned back. Another moan rumbled past my lips, riding the curve of my raised chest to my flared hipbones sticking from the bubbly surface. My purr lasted longer than usual, thrumming against my beating clit. Where was Red’s bike when I needed it?
Tomorrow, I wouldn’t kiss him again if I could help it. If I kept stringing him along with sexual favors, like leaving a trail of crumbs for him, soon enough he would want the whole cake.
I would need to use my words to seduce him. I might be able to do that...but he was relentless.
He was bad news. I was through with bad news. If I ever wanted a family, I needed a real man, one who could support me. Red promised an uncertain future. He might be hot, but how hot would he look in an orange jumpsuit when I would only be able to see him in prison?
I went on a couple dates with the bad types back in my early twenties, not as bad as Red, but still, they were “bad boys,” one in a heavy metal band and another who liked fast cars. None of those relationships went far. After a couple dates and being ditched for a brand-new toy, the bad boys moved on, and I moved on too. I looked at those days with regret.
Mid-twenties brought Sam, which realistically was a bigger waste of time. Sam seemed like the ideal husband, a cop, a respectable member of society. He had a good, supportive job. The stresses of the job got to him. Sam wasn’t a good guy. He was sadly just like my father. Abusive. A liar.
What a waste of time
, I thought. My biological clock was ticking. Sometimes I could swear I heard it beating in my chest. It would alert me to time racing by. It would tell me I needed to hurry. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep with all the energy, that energy telling me I needed to find the one, and quick.
But when I was surrounded with bad guys, when I couldn’t find anyone stable, how was I supposed to jump into another relationship? Even fantasizing about hopping on Red’s motorcycle with him, wrapping my arms around him, and letting the thrumming take control felt guilty. It felt like another opportunity to waste my time.
Something pounded on my front door. Feet swinging back into the tub with a splash, I jumped straight up. I looked toward the noise. It must’ve been a mistake. I wasn’t expecting a visitor.
“Ash,” someone screamed, their voice muffled but urgent.
I felt like sinking into the bubbles and hiding there, but the knocking sounded again. It was a loud, harsh pounding with a heavy fist, like the type cops would do before breaking in.
Oh, fuck, cops.
It wasn’t the cops. It was a cop. Fear rushed to the surface and consumed me. It couldn’t be...I thought being under cover across the United States would stop Sam. Nothing stopped Sam.
“Ash, I know you’re in there,” Sam screamed. “Open up.”
Leaping out of the tub, grabbing a towel, I rushed into my living room. What to do? What could I do? I couldn’t call the cops, could I? No, I couldn’t do that. It would blow my cover. They would start asking questions. The cops were on Sam’s side anyway.
Shaking, tunnel vision closing in, I stood like a wet, scared puppy in my living room. I cursed in my head over and over, looking around, trying to think of my options. I wouldn’t dare speak back to him behind that door.
Rustling followed by clicking and scraping came behind it, my only defense. My handgun was kept in the bedroom. My best bet would be to scare him off with it, if he would even be scared of a loaded gun. He was probably drunk. Too drunk for fear.
Before I could run to my bedroom, the door swung back, the monster standing in the doorway, his lock picks falling to his feet as he opened his arms.
“Ash,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”
Greasy, oily hair parted to the side, with a bigger beer gut than I remembered, Sam walked into my living room. If I made a sudden move and ran to my bedroom, he would catch me, and then he would beat me. I was out of options.
“Stay back, Sam,” I warned him.
Sam didn’t like warnings.
“I came all the way here to see you. Did you think you could run from me forever?”
No, actually, I was hoping you might not be this bat shit crazy. I should’ve known better.
“Sam, please, leave. I’m on a job.”
He laughed. “Why are you still working? With me, you’d never have to work another day in your life.”
Dread climbed up my throat. My vision blurred, my eyes watered, my lips trembled, my feet sank into the carpet.
“I want you to leave now. If you don’t—”
“Don’t be a bitch,” he snapped. Liquor and sweat dripped from him, staggering me. He snatched my wrist as I tried to pull away.
“You fucking bitch, you’re coming with me.”
Pulled toward the door, I struggled to stand my ground while trying not to antagonize him. It seemed like whatever I did, no matter how nicely I told him to “Go away,” there was no way of calming him.
How could I let myself fall into this again?
This time it was a little different. It would be a single punch. The hatred that I saw in his eyes, the desperation that he reeked of, he meant to kill me.
IBWTO (Chapter 3)
Red
Life was good as a Blessed Bastard. If not good, a little strange.
Watching the last dribble of gasoline hit the asphalt— God, I loved the smell of gasoline— I finished fueling my bike and returned all the glares around me. They didn’t want to stare, but they wanted to see what a real “Blessed Bastard” looked like. I didn’t blame them. They could look as long as they wanted. So long as they weren’t saying anything, I’d let it slide.
Most, I’d found, were too pussy to stare for long. A kid, wearing a striped polo shirt that looked like it was his mother’s idea, jumped up from the back seat of a van. He hung out, looking at my bike, and yelled, “Cool.”
His brother popped his head through the window too. “I want one,” he said.
Best not to reply. Didn’t want to get in trouble.
“Get in the car right now,” their mother said.
When they didn’t, instead they kept gawking, she hit the button and it slowly slid up. If I were a kid, I’d think it pretty damn cool too.
I still thought it was pretty damn cool. I rode because I enjoyed it. Screw everything else. I was a Blessed Bastard because it was “cool and fun.” I didn’t give a damn for the people barking orders like his mother. The Blessed Bastards weren’t part of their world. We were an independent nation riding on the open roads of America.
I kicked back, letting the engine roar, then pulled out of the gas station, leaving all of them behind, hitting a familiar friend, the desert highway. Public places could be claustrophobic. The private world of the club and the freedom of the road were my sanctuaries.
It was time to head back west to the club, but I got this nagging feeling I should check up on Ash again. I would drive by her apartment, do the rounds, and then call it a night before I bordered on stalkerish behavior...if I hadn’t passed that line already.
When Ash wouldn’t tell me about the man who beat her, I knew she was hiding something. I was sure I wanted to fuck her. Never in my life had I been so sure of anything else. But there was something else gnawing away at my gut. She seemed more like the old lady type, the type you settled down with, but there was this irrational part to her, the part that kept resisting, and at times, she seemed too out of control for her own good.
Just the sight of her got me hard and ready. All of me wanted to possess this girl, all of me called out to claim her, fuck her and take her as my own. I tried to settle that, to remain not so savage around her, and I thought I was doing a good job. She might have other opinions. Knowing that catty chick, she definitely had a lot.
Obsessing over her like this wasn’t usual. Since when did I ever get so wrapped up in a girl I wanted to fuck? But I kept telling myself that she was a special case. I couldn’t let Ash be hurt again. I just couldn’t. I drove back for another quick check. If that asshole who hit her still hung around, I would be pissed that she lied to me, but I knew why she would. She wouldn’t want me to kill for her.
Ash didn’t live in the best area, on the line of the poor and middle class section of Nevada in a crammed-in block of apartments. Not bad, but certainly not where I would house her if she was mine. There were rows of houses with small backyards in each one. I got the impression that you’d never get any privacy since everyone would be using theirs, but it was better than nothing. Most apartments around here didn’t give you a backyard.
Something wasn’t right when I pulled up to her apartment. For one, the door was open. Fearing something wasn’t right and trusting my gut, I slammed the kickstand down and rushed to the door.
As soon as I got to the walkway, I knew I made the right decision. I heard a man’s voice from inside. His voice was strained and harsh. They were both in the living room, a burly, wasted man holding her viciously by the wrist as she struggled. I could see the pain and fear in her eyes, the look of confusion and betrayal.
I heard one word come out of his mouth, “Bitch,” and I stormed from the doorway.
He never saw it coming.
I was hardly conscious I was so angry. Seeing someone pure-hearted like Ash being taken advantage of brought back some bad memories, and I lost it. I could usually keep my cool, but this time, I wasn’t thinking about anything other than inflicting the most excruciating pain on this fuck. This fuck didn’t deserve to live, that m
uch was clear. This type of fuck could destroy your faith in the human race.
Snatching him by the neck, I yanked, snapping his head back.
“Surprise, motherfucker,” I said, slowly and deliberately, a promise that I would tear him limb from limb.
“Wha—” he started, but he didn’t get a chance to say a full word.
I flung him back with all of my power, tossing him to the floor. Moaning, his eyes rolling, the drunk was too stunned to fight. Past the pounding blood in my ears, I could hear a girl’s muffled screaming. It must’ve been Ash.
I dragged him to his feet, rocking, dancing my way with a wild punch that I took to the chest. A dull pain throbbed around the lip of my right rib, but it didn’t stop me.
“You’re going to see what it feels like for once.”
He wavered. One punch to his lip and it busted and he rocked back. I swung a hook, this one rocking him across the jaw. He spun, tilting, but not falling yet, his lips blabbering something incomprehensible.
“Stop,” I heard behind me.
No. Too late to stop. This was happening. He deserved this.
Before he could fall, I grabbed him by the back of the neck and flung him toward the back doors, a glass sliding one that might kill him. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to do, kill him or not, but he needed to hurt. He needed to remember. Don’t fuck with a Blessed Bastard or their women again.
He crashed through. It must’ve been made with some shoddy material, or maybe I threw him too hard. The glass shattered and then all was silent as I casually walked over to her couch, sat down, and stared ahead, trying to cool off, trying to come back to reality and out of my murderous rage.
“Are you okay?” Ash asked me. When I focused again, her eyes were sparkling and her lips bunched up in worry, close to mine, calling for me to steal a kiss again. My muscles still pumped with adrenaline, ready for me to finish the job.
“Fine, beautiful,” I said. “Sorry for the mess. I’ll clean it up.”
I was still out of it, but those crystal clear eyes brought me back. My anger slowly subsided. Anger couldn’t last long when you were looking at a pretty girl like that.
Lucas (A Billionaire Bad Boy Novel) Page 21
