“Wrong answer, baby.” He rotated my hips, putting me at a different angle and slammed into me deeper. I blacked out momentarily. It was too much, but it still felt so good. It felt better than an orgasm. I was afraid to come, not being sure if my body would hold up afterward. He drove into me harder and faster, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. My body exploded into an orgasm and somehow, Luke found a way to drive deeper.
“Stop,” I tried to tell him, but it came out as a whisper. I tried to lift my arm, but my limbs were like wet spaghetti noodles. He wasn’t hurting me, but my body couldn’t take anymore. I collapsed on my face and immediately passed out.
When my eyes fluttered open, I was under the covers and in Luke’s arms. I turned my face slightly and saw those blue eyes watching me intently. I gave him a shy smile, slightly embarrassed by my actions.
“Feel better?” he asked me, kissing my forehead.
“Much,” I answered. It was amazing how much better I felt. I was completely relaxed and felt… perfect.
“Would you like a hot bath?” His voice was low and soft, just as it had been when he made love to me.
“With you?” I asked, hopeful.
“Of course.” His smile was so infectious that I couldn’t help smiling myself. “I’ll go run some water, why don’t you help yourself to the kitchen. I have some wine in the fridge.” I nodded in agreement as he rose from the bed, walking to the bathroom. My eyes followed his perfectly sculpted back, marked with my claws of passion. I smiled to myself, remembering what had just happened. He was like night and day and I was falling in love with both sides of him. I made my way to the kitchen, taking him up on his offer of wine. I drained one glass then filled another. Back in the bathroom, Luke was standing naked in front of the mirror, shaving.
“Going somewhere?” I asked him. He looked at me in the mirror and smirked saying, “No, I just thought that your smooth skin might appreciate it.”
I looked down and noticed the chaffed marks between my legs. “You don’t have to do that,” I muttered, embarrassed. I looked like I had some kind of rash.
“Really, babe. It’s my pleasure. I plan to spend a lot of time pleasing you. I don’t want you giving me any reason why I can’t.” He smiled sweetly at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. How thoughtful of him. Thirty minutes ago, he was fucking me unconscious; now he wanted to shave to keep from chaffing me. Oh the irony. He rinsed his face, and then gestured for me to get in the tub. The water was hot and very inviting. I sat down feeling slightly uncomfortable. The soreness between my legs was becoming more and more intense the more I moved. “You sore?” Luke asked, eyeing me warily.
“I’m fine,” I answered quickly. I didn’t want him to take it easy on me just because of a little pain.
“You are a terrible liar,” he said with that familiar smirk. He climbed in behind me and pulled me back against his chest.
“Mmm. This feels nice,” I said, running my hands up and down his legs.
“Yes, it does. Do you want to wash your hair?” he asked, twirling a length of my hair around his finger.
“I need to,” I responded sleepily. “But it can wait.” The hot water along with all the sex had my body so relaxed, all I wanted was sleep. Luke took a sponge and filled it with body wash and began massaging my shoulders and arms with it. I leaned up so he could wash my back. It felt so good to be pampered and I was going to take full advantage of it. Luke seemed to enjoy catering to me, so who was I to impose on his happiness?
“Let’s take a shower,” Luke said standing and bringing me with him. He stepped out of the tub and held my hand to help me out, then pulled me into the shower. He angled us both so that the first jets of cool water were not hitting us. When the water warmed, we moved, standing under it. Luke washed my hair, massaging his strong hands into my scalp. I leaned back against him, letting him support all of my weight. “Stay awake for me, baby. Just a little longer, I promise,” Luke said to me. I couldn’t believe that I was letting him bathe me. Who was I and where in the hell was Dallas Knox? I noticed Luke’s hands were no longer on my body and I turned to see him bathing himself.
“Want me to wash your back?” I asked surprised by the fact that I really wanted to. He gave me a smirk then handed me the sponge and turned around, placing his hands on the shower wall. I took my time, washing him slowly. Enjoying the way the water and soap trickled down his back, over his toned muscular ass, and onto the shower floor. I must have lost track of the time, caught up in the pleasure of bathing him, because he broke through my thoughts saying “Hey babe, I think I’m clean.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly stepping back with the sponge. I was so scared I would do something wrong to disappoint him. Not because I was afraid of a punishment fuck. Lord knows I would be instigating fights in the future to get that again, but I wanted to please him and make him happy. It made me happy.
“Stop apologizing for everything darlin’. It’s not a big deal.” He was smiling down at me. The water dripping off his face was so sexy, I was afraid that I would need another shower-a cold one. Luke shut off the water and we stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, I dried my hair and body, then wrapped myself up and followed him into the bedroom. He handed me a black t-shirt and I slipped it on and climbed into bed. I watched him as he slid on his tight, gray boxer briefs and climbed in beside me.
“How are you feeling, and don’t lie to me,” He asked me firmly. I loved all of his personalities, but this one was my favorite; in charge, no-nonsense, bad ass, biker boy Luke.
“I’m sore, more than I thought I would be, but it is a delicious feeling,” I answered truthfully. The aching between my legs was intense, but the reward of having him at my side was worth it. Luke surprised me when he leaned down and kissed me. His mouth was so velvety soft on mine that I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not. His warm tongue slid over my lips and I opened my mouth, inviting him in. He held onto the side of my neck, tilting my mouth up to his and rubbed his thumb softly across my jaw. It gave me chills, the way he kissed me. It was almost as good as his love making-almost.
“Good night, baby,” he said, kissing my head and pulling me into his arms. I was asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.
Chapter 11
I opened my eyes and Luke’s chest was staring back at me. I was still folded into his arms. His slow, deep breathing let me know that he was fast asleep. It was still dark outside and I wondered just how long I had been out. I remembered what woke me when the cramp in my stomach started again. I slid out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom. Oh God, please no, Lord please, no. I chanted silently on my way to the bathroom. The nausea was setting in and I knew that I was going to vomit. Probably that nasty ass lamb from the party, or all the liquor that I consumed while I was there. The mayor probably poisoned me. I made it to the bathroom and managed to close the door before my body jerked into the first dry heave. I hated to throw up. I would rather have my leg amputated with a spoon. I wasn’t very graceful with it either and I knew it. Chances were, this bathroom was gonna look like it belonged to a middle school on chili day by the time that I was through. I dry heaved again, trying to keep the noise to a minimum and trying to hold down the food that was forcing its way up my throat. I knew it was coming. It was inevitable. I managed to pull my hair behind my neck as my retching began.
“Dallas!” I heard Luke call from the bedroom. Oh shit, just what I didn’t need. Forget what I said about wanting Luke to take care of me. Right now, I just wanted him to leave me the hell alone. I tried to tell him to stay away, but I couldn’t even catch my breath. I flushed the toilet, hoping the swirling water would distract me from the nausea. No such luck. It just kept coming. After my stomach was empty, I sat dry heaving, my whole body convulsing with each horrible gag. Hands were in my hair and a cold rag was on my neck. He was here. Rubbing my back and keeping my hair out of my face. My body finally calmed and my stomach settled. I laid my head on the toilet, trying to catch my bre
ath. Luke handed me the towel from around my neck and I wiped my face, blowing my nose in a not so discreet way.
“I’m okay. Just go back to bed,” I said, trying to push him away with my weak arms and failing.
“Fat chance, babe,” he replied. I knew without looking at him that he had that damn smirk on his face. I leaned up, wiping the residue of my vomit from the toilet. “I’ll get that, babe, come on,” Luke said, placing his hands on my shoulders, waiting for me to stand.
“I got it. Just go away. Please.” I was mortified and the last thing I wanted was for Mr. Perfect to see me like this. I struggled to stand and he helped me, holding onto me while I went to the sink to wash my mouth. Fuck it. He could stay. I didn’t have the strength to argue with him anymore. My face was pale and my still damp hair was a mess.
I washed my face, rinsed my mouth and brushed my teeth with the new tooth brush Luke handed me. Noticing my shirt was no longer clean; I took it off and carelessly dropped it to the floor. Luke never spoke, just stood there beside me. I never looked at him. How could I? I made my way back to the bedroom and crawled in the bed, turning my back to him. If I had my car, I would have left right then.
Luke laid down beside me, pulling the covers up with him. He rubbed my back, my ass, and my shoulders. He was so attentive. How in the hell was he single?
“Why are you single?” I blurted out.
“I have been waiting for you,” he responded, kissing my head. Good one, Luke. I smiled to myself, wondering how many times he had used that line. I lay awake for a long time after that. When I finally did dose off, Luke’s tireless arms were still caressing me.
Mornings in Luke’s arms are indescribable. I have never felt so safe and secure and loved as I do when I am in his arms. I knew there was no way he could love me this soon, but it was nice to think about. We were still in the same position as when I went to sleep, so I couldn’t see his face. I wanted to turn over so I could admire him, but I didn’t want to wake him, and I wasn’t sure that I was ready to wake up completely myself.
His arm moved from my waist and I quickly closed my eyes. For some reason I didn’t want him to know that I was awake. I was sure it had something to do with attention, but I didn’t want to admit that. I felt him lean up, like he was looking over at me. He brushed the hair out of my face and planted a kiss on my temple, then got out of bed.
I could hear some noises that sounded like they were coming from the kitchen.
Deciding not to spend all day in bed, I got up and rummaged through his drawers, finding a pair of basketball shorts and one of his many black t-shirts. In the bathroom, I noticed that the color had returned to my face. I looked well rested and was only slightly sore. I piled my hair on my head and brushed my teeth, then struck out to find Luke. He was in the kitchen, wearing nothing but pajama pants that hung low on his waist. He looked scrumptious. He spotted me and his face lit up into a smile.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said cheerfully. I smiled shyly, crossing my arms and looking at the floor. He always knew just what to say to make me blush. “I’m making us some breakfast. It’s quite a delicacy, too. You may have heard of it before.” He held up a packet of instant oatmeal and I laughed.
“Sounds great,” I said, taking a seat at the bar.
“Orange juice or coffee?” he asked setting both on the bar in front of me.
“Juice, please.” He poured me a big glass and I greedily drank it all. He smirked at me, refilling my glass.
“I was thirsty. You know dry mouth from the… well from last night.” I looked down at my knotted fingers, not meeting his gaze.
“Well, I have plenty,” he said turning and taking the steaming kettle from the stove. Thank God, he wasn’t going to elaborate on what happened last night. He fixed us both a bowl of oatmeal and sat down beside me. The oatmeal smelled fabulous and I was starving. It tasted just as good as it smelled and I couldn’t remember ever being able to make it taste this good.
“Dallas, I want to make us official,” Luke suddenly said. I looked up to see him watching me. Wow. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Did people even do that anymore?
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Carmical?” I asked dramatically. He laughed and dropped his stare to his hands. Was he embarrassed?
“I’m serious, babe. I want you in my life.” He was serious. This un-believably hot guy wanted me in his life.
“Luke, I…,” I couldn’t find the words. How was I going to tell him that I wasn’t the girl he thought I was? I pushed myself away from people. I had lived in a bubble for years for a reason. “Luke, you don’t want to be with me,” I said defeated.
“Oh, I don’t?” He seemed surprised, but I could tell he was just being facetious.
“Look, I’m fucked up. I have issues. I’m not like most girls,” I said, staring at my hands in my lap.
“Baby, I can do fucked up, and I have issues myself, everyone does.” He turned in his seat so that he was facing me. “I know you are not like most girls. That is why I’m so attracted to you. Do you have any idea how many women throw themselves at me just because I am the President of an MC? But you, you like me, for me. For the man I am without the vest. I want you in every aspect of my life. The club, the job, my family… I want you to be a part of it.”
I felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. He was laying his feelings out on the table and I had nothing to offer in return. I had no group of friends to introduce him to, my job consumed my entire life and my family was pretty much non-existent.
“Luke, I don’t have anything to offer you in return. I mean- I am self-centered and often ruthless, I have absolutely no empathy, I’m jealous and controlling and everyone thinks I’m a bitch. The only reason people even tolerate me is because of my name.” I was on the verge of tears. I had always known all of those things, but it cut deeper when I said them out loud.
“Hey,” Luke said taking my face into his hands and making me look at him. “You are also kind, and beautiful and thoughtful. And, who cares what everyone thinks. They don’t know the Dallas that I know. You are an amazing woman.” His voice was so sincere and his face so thoughtful, that I almost believed him. “If it makes you feel better, we won’t make any promises. Let’s just try this and see where it leads.” Luke was amazing. He knew more about me than I knew about myself. It was clear to him that I had commitment issues and he was willing to revise the invisible “normal” contract between two people, just to make me comfortable. I would be a fool not to keep this man. I nodded my head in agreement. “So, that’s a yes? You will be my girlfriend?” he asked, sheepishly. The comment immediately relieved the tension in the room and set my mind at ease.
“Yes, Luke. I will be your girlfriend,” I said, smiling back at him. A broad smile broke out across his face and he leaned forward, kissing me deeply. When he pulled away, I was breathless.
Luke didn’t waste any time. The first thing he did, after we finished breakfast was take me to his “Harley Room.” I remembered the room from the last time that I was in here, and just like before; the beautiful motorcycle was parked in the middle of the room. “I was three years old when I rode my first Harley. My grandfather, Pops, took me around the yard. I still remember it. Most kids were scared of the loud pipes and the big burly men that drove them, but not me. I have loved them since that first ride,” Luke said passionately. “When I was sixteen, my father bought me a truck. He wanted me to have things that he never did. He was so proud when he handed me the keys. I had it for less than an hour before I traded it for an old Harley my Pops had at his shop,” he paused, laughing to himself. “My dad was so pissed. He didn’t speak to me for over a week. It took him years before he accepted my lifestyle. Now, even though he doesn’t agree, he is one of my biggest supporters.”
“Why didn’t your father ride?” I asked, intrigued with his story.
“My Pops wasn’t much of a father to my dad. He was constantly in and out of jail.
When he did get out, he couldn’t get a respectable job because of his record. The bike world welcomed him with open arms. Once he knew all the connections, he and another guy started their own club.”
“Connections?” I asked. I knew what that meant, but I wanted him to tell me.
“Another time, babe. I want to show you something,” he said, effectively changing the subject.
He took my hand and led me outside to his shop. The inside looked like a honky-tonk. There were pool tables and a juke box, a bar that ran the length of the building and pictures of motorcycles were hung everywhere. Behind the bar, I could see bottles of whiskey and tap beer available. I half expected someone to show up and take our order. In the back of the shop, there were two large double doors that were locked with a padlock. Luke presented a key, unlocked the doors and pushed them open. A huge table was centered in the room. Around the table were large brown leather chairs that looked like something an executive would sit in. What was most amazing to me though, were the large, framed shadow boxes that covered the walls housing leather vests with different patches on them. I felt like I had stepped into a museum.
“The boxes are fire and bullet proof, so even in the worst circumstances, they are protected. These two here belong to the founders of the club. My Grandfather, Pops, and his lifelong friend, Gill.” Luke said, leading me to the head of the table and pointing to the two boxes on the wall behind it. “They did time together in Parchman, a five year stretch in the seventies. When they got out, they went their separate ways. My grandfather joined in with an MC out of Louisiana and Gill moved to Texas. After about two years, they reunited and decided to start their own club. That’s how the Devil’s Renegades MC began.”
I was amazed at the history in the room. Founders and members were listed on the wall and a shrine made for each and every one of them. Each box held their vest and a personal keepsake. I noticed that Pop’s keepsake was a coloring page that had been scribbled on and the name James was printed on the bottom in a child’s handwriting.
A Ride or Die Kind of Love Page 86
