Taking a Dare - A Hellion MC Novel

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Taking a Dare - A Hellion MC Novel Page 8

by J. A. Hornbuckle


  He was waiting. Waiting for Ryley to show and to see what the doings of the previous night might have changed in her. Because it had done something to him. And he'd recognized it as soon as he'd opened his eyes that morning, when he realized he hadn't be fooled by her teasing attitude. That kiss (Christ! That fuckin' kiss) exposed the truth of what Ryley had been really feeling.

  He just hoped she was aware that he was on the same wavelength.

  "Lu was thinking a picnic up in Lolo Forest would be cool," Hardwood said, tucking the Hellion Construction's receptionist against his side. The kids had gotten together almost as soon as Mel had shown up for his apprenticeship. A fact that had pissed Dare, Silo and Bishop off as they'd all been scheming on the girl who dressed up for work in petticoated skirts and seamed stockings. And who had, at that time, colored the hair around her hairline a bright pink. Although now it was an all-over, deep blue-black.

  "We'll be doing stuffed pork chops and au-gratin potatoes for dinner if you're not up for a picnic," Lu enticed with a smile. While Dare could admit she was beautiful, she didn't hold his heart. Not when a little aqua-eyed, brown haired beauty he'd lusted after for so many years was available.

  But was she really available?

  "Think I'm gonna hang here for a bit. Appreciate the offer, though. You kids have fun," he replied back, knowing he didn't sound like himself. Christ, he didn't damn-well feel like himself either. He'd never waited on a fuckin' woman before and hated that he was doing so then. "You gonna stick around for breakfast?"

  "We need to pick Julie up from a sleepover," Hardwood explained.

  "Her first one with civilians! I can't wait to find out how it went," Lulu continued with shining eyes directed towards her man. Dare would've given a body part to have Ryley fuckin' look at him again with the same look of love and adoration. She'd done it before so he had hope it would be repeated.

  There was a commotion at the door and Dare couldn't help but stand straighter as a parade of women came in, their sharp, shiny voices calling to each other as they balanced huge bowls and trays while making their way into the club. The long bar was the ladies goal which the newest recruits, Stealthy and Rinse, had set up with holders and candles in order to keep the food warm.

  Once again, Ryley was in the middle of the pack and he felt his cock unfurl with a deep sharp throb at the sight of her. Wearing a pair of brown leather pants and a light blue t-shirt that simply hugged her curves, she was sexier than the Honeys that surrounded her and who were showing a helluva lot more skin.

  He couldn't take his eyes off her.

  Because in his mind, there was only one person that mattered in the whole of the room. That actually counted in the full fuckin' scheme of things.

  Ryley.

  "Need a word, Dare," Trey said from over his shoulder interrupting his view of his girl.

  His girl.

  "Now," Dare's pres said firmly, causing his eyes to shoot to where his broad brother stood. "Outside, yeah?"

  Without a noise, Dare moved to the door wondering what could be so important that Trey needed to say it outside. But as soon as they were on the tarmac, weaving their way through all the different bikes, the big man began to speak.

  "Need to let you know, amigo," Trey started before stopping to clear his throat, heralding whatever he was going to say wasn't gonna be good. "Gus is asking me to call for your cut…"

  What the fuck?

  That shit was only done when a brother had fucked up and fucked up so bad the club could no longer support him. Dare's mind raced to figure out what he'd done that would cause Gus to demand it.

  And came up fuckin' blank except for one reason and one reason only.

  "Or to send you to Sheridan to ride out the rest of their stay," Trey finished with a sigh. Their steps had stopped just inches off the furthest row of bikes.

  "Because of Ryley," Dare stated flatly, cutting right to the chase.

  Trey wouldn't meet his eyes but instead sent his gaze to roam over the two long lines of machines that glittered in the sunlight.

  "This is fuckin' nuts, dude," Dare cried, raising his arms up before dropping them to his thighs with a slap. "The man is seriously deranged. I had a thing with his daughter ten years ago. We might be reconnecting now, which is, by the by, none of his fuckin' bidness. But to call for my cut? My fuckin' cut?"

  Trey held up a hand, his head pointed towards his feet. "Didn't say I was gonna take it, brother. Only that he is asking for it."

  "But still…" Dare's mind was whirling. How could the old man even think that Trey would let him go?

  But then, how could Dare let his Ryley go?

  Christ!

  "What do you want me to do, man?" Dare's voice held all the confusion he was feeling, and he saw Trey's reaction to it in the other man's scowl.

  "Dunno. But know you gotta fucking work it out your own way. I'm just here, brother. Here for you whatever goddamn way you want to play it." Trey's eyes were on him and seemed to be as open and as honest as he'd always been with Dare.

  Trey studied his fellow Hellion and gave him silence as the younger man seemed to think it through.

  "I want some time," Dare finally announced. "I need time to figure out what I want to do. Do I have time, Trey?"

  Trey studied his boy, the brother that his parents had taken in and knew that while he wasn't getting the whole truth, he was getting a version of it. "Take all the time you need, amigo. Both I and the club have your back no matter what you decide, yeah?"

  "Yeah. Got it. Thanks, brother." Grateful didn't even begin to describe how Dare felt.

  They shared a handshake that morphed into manly hug concluding with a hard thump against one another's back.

  But even as he shared the moment with his pres and his foster-brother, Dare knew the war for Ryley had just begun.

  Chapter Eleven

  "Hope our dudes don't get used to all the good eats these Honeys put out," Vegas whispered, her bleached platinum hair covering my shoulder as she leaned into me. I could hear the soft tinkling of her chandelier earrings that punctuated her words at her head moves. "It ain't gonna happen back in Spokane, that's for damn sure."

  She wasn't kidding either. Back at our clubhouse, we might put on a bar-b-que or have food maybe once or twice a month. But the Missoulan Honeys were into cooking in a big way.

  This morning we'd all congregated at Lock's place where we were putting together a huge breakfast that included trays and trays of something called a 'frittata'. Which I'd learned was just a fancy name for some kind of egg casserole. While the rest of us were elbow to elbow at the countertops and at the bar, Reese stood at one end of Lock's huge dining room table and made her biscuits.

  I'd met her the night before and found her both funny and warm although her hair was strange. Not so much the cut but the little flares of cherry red that adorned the ends. Allegedly, she made mouth-watering biscuits from just piles of flour, lard and egg and I could see as she dragged her fingers into the mound of white stuff piled before her that I was watching something that had been passed down to her.

  Because anyone else would've either fucking opened a box of the pre-made stuff that you just added water and oil to or simply opened the vacuum sealed canister of the prepared kind. Maybe I was too lazy but my first reaction to seeing the effort that went into the shit we were cooking was 'why bother'?

  I turned to Cyn, one of the other ladies from my club and snagged some more of the shredded potatoes to add to the grill plate which was my responsibility for the moment. The hash browns, as I called them, were going to be layered with the cheese Vegas was shredding.

  I glanced around the kitchen and took it's emotional temperature. While only six of our fifteen Honeys had made the trip, it seemed like we were all getting along. Maybe it was because we had no queen, which made me (as a princess) the leader of the ladies of our group. The mantle of responsibility was worn by either the President's old lady or a princess since those were the only two
who were familiar with both the Hellions and the Honeys rules and roles. But according to the unspoken politics within the Hellions I still had to defer to Dallas even if she didn't realize the power she possessed.

  It was still all good. The only hiccup was gonna be in entering the clubhouse. A place I knew he'd be. And after our make-out al fresco session of the previous night, I damn-well yearned to see him, needed to see him.

  As we cooked, I'd kept an ear out on all the different conversations going on around the room. Especially when one of the Honeys brought up Dare's name, which had received more than a few catcalls and whistles at just the mention.

  And what I'd heard…shit, I still shudder from all I was made privy to as he was described and named in Lock's kitchen while we cooked. From his tats to his birthmark in the shape of Argentina on the underside of the left cheek of his ass. Areas I had yet to discover but ached to find for myself. The girls were laughing as they compared their experiences: of his sexual expertise and hunger for pussy, that he knew what a clit was and more than knew how to work it for maximum enjoyment, of the different positions he employed and the dirty talk he whispered as he took them.

  None of which I could agree or disagree with, dammit! Their knowledge of him and how he was in bed hurt within the deep recesses of me.

  They all called him a stud, citing that if Dare chose a girl or even a pair of them, how she'd be guaran-damn-teed a wonderful time between the sheets even if she had to share.

  But not to expect anything afterwards.

  Not even a cuddle.

  No flowery language and, according to most of the Honeys, not so much as a thank you for the shared experience.

  "He patted me on the ass once," one of the girls, I think her name was Tight, admitted with a sly smile. "We was leaving the room and he actually said goodbye and bounced his hand on my butt. Twice. I counted."

  "You ever notice he never fucks the same Honey two nights in a row? It's like we're on fucking rotation or something." I glanced over at the girl who'd spoken, Carmi I think her name was, who was frowning into the huge bowl of fruit salad.

  Dee, who was frying up sausages on a large electric griddle at the bar, spoke up. "He's got issues. Doesn't seem to want or need to be connected to anybody but the brothers. Though, I heard there had been a girl he'd jonesed on when he was younger. Who broke his heart and screwed up his head. But it may have been just a rumor or some crap."

  I blinked hard at her words and felt my stomach clench. Since I knew he'd never had a girlfriend before me, I could only figure the reason he never wrote back was because he'd found someone else. Something I'd considered but now couldn't deny after Dee's words.

  I put all the info I'd heard and shoved it on my internal scale of 'do I or don't I go the next step with him?'

  If these Honeys were right, Dare was too closed off for me to consider getting with long term. I knew I needed more when I gave it up to a guy. Maybe not all the romantic shit, but damn-well more than what the girls had said Dare gave them!

  I compared the hard-fucking man they described to the sensual, sweet boy-man my heart remembered. A man who didn't want or need the softness and care a woman could bring to the guy but who'd seemed to crave it when he was young. I couldn't envision, couldn't even imagine, them as being one and the same person.

  And to compare either one to the man I'd almost succumbed to the night before? It was mind boggling and I just wasn't up for it.

  Shit! There was no way my Dare, not the Dare of my heart, behaved like that.

  I knew how a club's rumor mill worked and knew that the girls had more than likely added their own pieces to the stories they'd told. It was a damn given that everybody fudged when they told a good tale but only to make their story even better in the retelling. More interesting if even in their own eyes.

  But the Honey's stories were all very similar and the descriptions very much the same. So similar, I couldn't deny the kernels of truth in them.

  Still, he was a low down, dirty bastard for basically using the Honeys instead of his hand if that was the way he treated them.

  Even if his amazing outsides didn't show it.

  Even if he'd never once treated me like that.

  I'd spied him from my place in the line of Honeys as we'd carried in the food, bracketing the pans into the holders that were set up. Following Dee's lead, I took the step and a half back to lean against the back of the bar after setting my tray of food in its holder. The hard wood digging into my tailbone provided a much needed distraction from my contemplations.

  Thoughts that told me that in spite of what I'd heard, my scales were definitely on one setting.

  I still wanted to be with him.

  And was more than willing to have him if for no other reason than to complete our story and have the memory of him—all of him—with me the rest of my days.

  I'd just have to keep reminding myself that temporary was all it could ever be, all that I could hope to have with a man called Dare.

  *.*.*.*.*

  From her glossy brown hair to the heeled boots she was sporting, Dare couldn't imagine a more beautiful woman. It wasn't just the way she was dressed, showing more class than all of the Honeys combined. No, it was the sum of her…of all of her that had him dazzled.

  And when she smiled at the girl next to her, he was gone.

  Fuckin' lost in that bright smile.

  God fucking damn! He wanted to drag her off to the nearest available room around the back and continue on with the previous night's play . And this time to do it even better, longer and with more of the adult doings.

  Although what they'd shared the night before had been, he admitted, fuckin' perfect.

  On every fuckin' level.

  Well, except one. The one where she hadn't gone home with him to share his bed.

  He felt a deep spasm at the thought, the mental image of sinking himself within what he knew, already fuckin' knew, were her sweet, hot and tight depths. To listen to her whimper and mewl as he built it, worked her until she'd be screaming his goddamn name when she fuckin' hit it hard. And then to hold her and caress her as they both found their breath. To talk and laugh together as they got to know each other again and discover the grown-up version of the couple they'd been so long ago. To discover if the connection was as real and true as he suspected.

  What the hell?

  Where was all this emo shit coming from?

  He'd already determined years ago that their attachment had just been a case of raging hormones. Just a short, steamy interlude between a couple of horny teens. And that the only reason he'd been devastated when she'd ridden away was due to all the goddamn time he'd invested in getting to know her, his awareness of her innocence and the fact he hadn't nailed her good and proper.

  Because there was no way the girl could've been as fuckin' perfect as his seventeen year old heart had said she was. No fuckin' way in hell. But whether she had been or not, it was hard denying she seemed to be. And it was even harder admitting Ryley had been his first love.

  A feeling and a word he'd never allowed himself to think or even say with anyone else.

  Ever.

  He chanced a glance at her again and felt his heartbeat increase.

  Shit!

  Christ! This had never happened. Had never gone on before. Dare was a man that was known for hitting and quitting when it came to getting his. Who gave a speech to each and every girl he ever allowed to ride his cock about keeping their emotions out of it.

  Fuck! Was that what January had been complaining about? That she'd wanted a shot at his fuckin' heart?

  He ran a hand over his face, using a thumb and forefinger to trail down his mustache as he tried to make sense of what was stirred up inside him.

  Dee stood at the head of the line and called out, "come and get it, boys!" and Dare lined up with the rest in order to fill his plate with all the goodness the Honeys had made. Damn! It was a veritable feast with the frittata, sausages, bacon and cheesy h
ash browns. Not to mention, Reese's kick-ass biscuits. Dare could've made a fuckin' meal out of them alone.

  He made a point of thanking each woman who stood behind the bar, trying and failing to keep his voice even as he acknowledged the woman who was giving him mental fits. He would've done better but it was the light, steady heated regard in her aqua eyes that caused him to stumble over the two syllables of her name.

  When he did and then saw the grin with the eyebrow lift from her at his stutter, he'd felt a blush hit his face.

  Oh fuck to the no!

  Drunk, hung-over or motherfuckin' sober, no woman got the better of him!

  Determine to shrug off all the shit whirling inside, Dare shot her a one-sided grin in return which wiped that challenging look right off her. But damn-well increased the activity of the eye-fuck they had going. Eliciting another throb in his dick.

  Shit!

  Breaking their stare, he bent his head to the food on display and began to fill his plate as he stepped down the length of the bar.

  He glanced back at her as he'd moved by and saw her amazing eyes flare as she slowly licked her lips while she leaned against the back cabinet, her hands behind her succulent ass, pushing her full luscious chest towards him. It was an unmistakable invitation that he couldn't label as anything else.

  Which sent his heart and cock into overdrive.

  Goddamn!

  How fuckin' dare she?

  Didn't she realize she was playing with fire?

  Fuckin' little vixen.

  His body almost goddamn demanded he grab her by her neck and press her tight, hard belly into the bar while ripping her leathers down to fuck her silly as he held her by her hair. Both as a punishment and a reward for teasing him like that and the tease of not being able to complete the deed they'd started on the picnic table.

  He glanced down at his plate and saw he'd added three scoops of some kind of chopped fruit shit on top of the heaps of food he'd already placed there. And he hated fuckin' fruit!

  Christ!

  This was, he knew, beyond bad and couldn't be blamed on some emotional shit left over from his youth. And combined with Trey's words on how Gus wanted his motherfuckin' cut? It was just all sorts of terrible and had him considering just fuckin' leaving, damn-well climbing aboard his hog to just get gone.

 

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