A Ride or Die Kind of Love

by Chelsea Camaron

  It was a dirty, dirty game, and Jasper couldn’t look away.

  The ribbons yielded one at a time, baring Lex’s skin in the slowest tease the stage had ever seen. Ace shifted in his chair, muttering something too low to be understood. Mad just stared, unblinking, as Noelle wrapped her hand around the front of Lex’s throat.

  With the stage lit and the floor dark, there was no way Noelle could see him in the crowd, but her gaze still swept straight to him as she bent low and closed her teeth on Lex’s earlobe.

  Lex gasped, and Jasper felt an answering tug in his gut as his balls tightened. The perfect show, a role reversal. Innocent little Noelle playing the seductress, while Lex submitted with astonishingly convincing wonder.

  Not that Noelle looked innocent now. She teased Lex’s gown open far enough to bare her breasts, and Ace bit off a curse as Noelle licked her thumb before teasing one of Lex’s nipples to a hard point. “Fucking hell, Jas. You tried to send her back to Eden? You’re brain dead.”

  “Shut up, Ace. I mean it.” Oh, she was teaching him a lesson now, all right. Showing him all the ways she’d never fit in back in Eden, not anymore.

  And it only got worse. Noelle stroked Lex. Teased her. She stripped lace and silk from skin with lingering touches, ground against the other woman’s body, and left no possible room to doubt that she loved it.

  “Holy shit.” Bren yanked out the fourth chair between Ace and Mad. “I heard, but I didn’t believe.”

  “Watch it,” Ace warned. “Jas’ll punch your face in if you comment on the beautiful thing happening on that stage.”

  “Like that’ll stop me.” Bren tilted his head as Noelle straddled Lex’s thighs and rolled her hips. “Those two have no mercy, do they? A match made in heaven and hell.”

  “She’s taunting Jas,” Mad murmured. “That’s one hard-ass lady. Lex’s influence, I presume?”

  “Or Jas just pissed her off that much,” Ace said. “That’s usually my job.”

  Jasper found himself nodding in agreement, so he stilled his head. “The whole damn thing is probably as much for Dallas’s eyes as it is for mine.”

  Mad’s laugh was mean. “Yeah, except he gets to curl up in between them if he wants.”

  “He’d be the only one anyway,” Jasper rationalized. “He’s always been possessive of Lex, and that shit’s just getting more and more out of control lately.”

  “Coming to a head,” Ace agreed. “Sooner rather than—oh hell, tell me Noelle’s not going to—”

  But she was. She slid to her knees in front of the chair, the stage lights gilding the perfect curves of her ass beneath her corset. Lex shuddered as Noelle slipped one questing hand up her inner thigh, closely followed by her tongue.

  The whistles and calls from the audience almost drowned out Lex’s cry as she arched her back and lifted her hips. She buried one hand in Noelle’s hair, holding her in place, and raised the other to her own breast to pinch and tug at her nipple.

  Ace forgot decorum—and the threat of Jasper’s fists—and hooted along with the rest of the crowd. Jasper didn’t care. He was riveted, locked on to the sight not only of Noelle but of Lex too. The abandoned, honest pleasure.

  This was a message, all right, but it wasn’t a fuck you, or even a look at what you lost, dumbass. It was a declaration, of independence and self-possession. Noelle’s power, the spark of will that had always lurked inside her, in flames on the stage.

  And she was beautiful.

  Distraction was a bitch. A painful, bleeding bitch.

  Jasper shook his hand and flexed his fingers. Smashing his knuckles into the engine block the first time had been stupid but understandable. But not paying enough attention to the engine block in front of him meant not only a second smash, but also lacerated, raw knuckles.

  “You should be more careful,” Rachel admonished. “A bike like that’ll bite you.”

  Jasper choked back an instinctive, foul retort and released a deep breath. “Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “If you’re going to do more harm than good, stick to watching.” Dallas wiped his hands on a rag before digging through his toolbox. “These bikes are the only perk we got out of that bullshit with Trent.”

  “And they’re classically neglected.” Rachel didn’t bother to hide her disgust. “Spit shined and perfect, but running like hell. They could all use tune-ups, that one needs a new carburetor. It’s ridiculous.”

  Everything Trent touched was like that—only the show had seemed to matter to him, not the foundation beneath. “The man ran his bikes the way he ran his sector,” Jasper muttered.

  Dallas grunted. “Pretty on the outside. Dom’s still pushing to take over his organization, but the more Bren finds out from Six, the more I think Trent pulled this stunt out of desperation rather than ambition. His business was collapsing under him.”

  “What better reason to go up against the O’Kanes?” Jasper sat back and studied his bleeding knuckles. “He had nothing to lose.”

  “He was alive,” Dallas replied flatly. “As long as you’re drawing breath, there’s always something to lose.”

  Rachel dropped the wrench she was holding and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. “Well, obviously that wasn’t enough for Trent. Not sure it’d be enough for me, either, though not remotely for the same reasons.”

  Dallas smiled at her, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “You gonna get all wise on us, angel?”

  She matched his expression, right down to the way it didn’t seem happy at all. “Wisdom would be lost on you two knuckleheads.”

  “Ah, hell. Not you too, Rachel.” Dallas abandoned the bike and crossed the garage to retrieve a beer. “Which of us are you planning to chew on?”

  “You both deserve it.” She rose, hopped up to sit on a workbench, and pointed at Jasper. “You need to stop thinking you get to decide what’s right for someone else. Noelle has a whole life that you haven’t lived, you know, so you can’t make her decisions. Just yours.”

  Jesus Christ, now he had to defend himself to her, too. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that’s what I did.”

  “Yeah?” She arched one blonde brow. “I hope that’s not true. I was assuming you were a dickhead, not a coward.”

  Dallas damn near choked on his beer. “What has gotten into the women in this place? You’re slicing us all to hell and back.”

  “Uh-uh, don’t talk to me. You’re no better. You might even be worse.” She shook her head. “At least Jasper’s thing makes sense, in a twisted sort of way. But you’re just a big mess.”

  “Do tell, angel. Don’t hold back now.”

  She rolled her eyes at his flat, indifferent tone. “Dallas O’Kane, the only man I ever met who’d drop ten grand on pretty presents when a fucking kiss would do.”

  Dallas didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. “And Jasper’s sin?”

  “The opposite. Not making any grand gestures at all, even empty ones.”

  The words cut, drove Jasper to his feet. “Look—”

  “But.” Rachel silenced him with one upheld hand. “The good news for both of you is that some women are stubborn. Even if they know when to give up, they can’t quite seem to do it. So there’s hope for you yet.”

  “Oh, there is, is there?” Dallas set his beer aside and returned to the dismantled bike. “It’s good to see you have us both all figured out.”

  “Of course I do. You’re not me.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Yeah. Easy from the outside, huh? Talk about nothing to lose.”

  “I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite.” She slid off the bench and bumped Jasper with her hip until he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Find me a prince, boys, and I’ll be too blissfully happy to bust your balls.”

  “Ace is as princely as he’s getting, doll.”

  Merciless teasing, and Rachel blushed so deeply that Jasper almost felt sorry for her.

  Almost. He kissed the top of her head. “Y
ou had that coming.”

  “I know,” she grumbled.

  Rachel could be hotheaded, but she was also a damn good judge of people. And if she was willing to stake that judgment on the fact that, whatever else, Noelle might not hate him...

  And Jasper’s sin?

  The hollow ache in his chest throbbed and expanded. The past week had been a miserable haze of work and not much else, a bleak snapshot of how barren the rest of his life could be.

  Not making any grand gestures at all.

  If he had a shot, he had to try. And if Noelle Cunningham wanted a grand gesture, she’d get the grandest fucking gesture he could find.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  For the first time in her life, Noelle had a space of her own, and she took great satisfaction in turning it into a glorious, cluttered mess.

  Dallas had offered her the run of the dusty storage room, which had proved to be packed to the ceiling with furniture undoubtedly acquired through dubious means. Some of it was as elegantly understated as anything in Lex’s rooms, and Noelle had avoided every piece that could have possibly belonged in Eden.

  Instead, she chose the outrageous and the downright outdated, pairing a massive four-poster bed with a sleekly modern couch and a delicately carved vanity from a previous century. The colors clashed even more when she buried the furniture in mismatched pillows and threw her clothes over every surface with rebellious glee.

  It wasn’t a stage set for seduction. It wasn’t anything approaching stylish. But it was hers, from top to bottom, and the ability to close the world away on the other side of that door was a revelation.

  Of course, the mess made receiving visitors awkward. She’d just finished braiding her hair when the door rattled under an abrupt knock, and she had to yell, “Give me a minute!” before gathering up an armful of new lingerie and shoving it into the closet.

  Breathless, she wrenched open the door to find Jasper standing there, a paper-wrapped parcel under one arm. “Hi.”

  Just that. Just hi, and even after two weeks apart, his voice hit her in the gut and left shivers in its wake. It made her own voice husky. “Jasper. Hi.”

  His gaze traced her face, and he swallowed hard. “Can I come in?”

  Only Lex had been past the threshold of her new domain, but if she denied Jasper access, she’d feel craven. Stepping aside, she held the door open. “It’s a little messy. I had a late night...”

  “Working. I know.” He walked in and paused in the middle of the room to look around. “It’s nice.”

  “Thank you.” She didn’t want his approval. Didn’t want to believe it was sincere, and didn’t want the warmth it kindled in her belly. And if she told herself that enough times, maybe it would become true.

  “It looks like you,” he murmured, then looked down at the package in his hands. “I brought you something, because we need to talk.”

  “All right.” Once she’d shut the door, she shoved aside a stack of clothing on the couch, clearing a space for him. “You can sit, if you want.”

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “No, I’m okay.”

  The weakness inside her threatened to crack open and swallow her whole. She wanted to melt into his touch, melt into him, and God, it was supposed to get better. She eased her arm away and turned to the side table. “Do you want a drink, then? I have whiskey and rum.”

  “I was wrong,” Jasper blurted. “Rachel’s right—I’m a dickhead.”

  Noelle froze. “I’m sorry?”

  “I shouldn’t have tried to make you go back to Eden.” His brows drew together in a stormy frown. “You were miserable there. Why the hell would you ever want to go through that again?”

  She was so surprised by his words that she responded with the truth. “I wouldn’t. I didn’t.”

  “No shit.” He held out the parcel. “Take it. I got it for you.”

  She closed her fingers around the package out of reflex, the brown paper crumpling in her grip. “Jasper, you don’t need to do this...”

  “I want you to give me a chance,” he said firmly.

  Her heart lurched painfully. “A chance at what? What do you want?”

  His fingers tangled in her hair, but relaxed and slipped away without closing. “I want you.”

  How many times had she heard those words in her dreams, memories mixed with a yearning fantasy that left her empty and wanting? “You had me,” she whispered, clutching the package. “And you didn’t just let me go. You shoved me away.”

  Jasper nodded. “I did. I’m sorry. I think...” He looked away. “I didn’t believe you were mine.”

  “I was.” She watched his profile, drinking in the sight of his face when she knew her next words might drive him away. “But I’m not anymore. I belong to myself, and I’m not going to give that up casually again.”

  “I know. I don’t expect you to. That’s what the...” He gestured to the square package. “I got that.”

  Since he was watching her expectantly, she had no choice but to edge a finger under the wrapping and tear it open. Inside was a framed painting every bit as intricate as the one hanging in Lex’s spare room, if half the size. Staring at the swooping brushstrokes, it was impossible for Noelle not to think about Lex, stashing gift after gift in a room full of baubles because Dallas kept trying to buy her affection.

  The painting must have cost a fortune, but money was easy to come by as an O’Kane. A couple weeks of dancing had taught her that. “It’s beautiful,” she began, rubbing her thumb along the beveled edge of the frame, “but I don’t need—”

  “It’s for Ace,” Jasper cut in. “But you need to have it. Hang on to it ’til you’re ready for us to make the trade. If you get ready.”

  Her confusion only deepened, though suspicion stirred in her gut, the first whisper of anticipation. Surely he didn’t mean— “Trade for what?”

  All his attention was focused on her mouth, and he stepped closer. “He won’t take money for that ink,” Jasper murmured, lifting his thumb to her throat. “Not for marks.”

  Marks. Jasper’s marks. She shivered, and this time her nipples tightened, along with the rest of her body. Arousal sizzled both at the touch of his skin and the thought of a claim as permanent as the one wound around her wrists. Dallas had shown her the strength of that claim. Not many things were sacred in the sectors, but ink was a promise.

  A promise Jasper was offering.

  “You want to mark me?” She had to ask the question because she had to hear the words from his lips, blunt and unmistakable.

  “I want to mark you.” He drove his fingers into her hair again, and this time he nearly crushed the painting between them as he bent his head and captured her lips in a blistering kiss.

  It was everything she’d been missing and more. The strength in his grip, the hot slide of his tongue, the way he worked her mouth open with strokes that demanded with steely gentleness. She wanted to give in, to bend to his unspoken command and glory in the bliss of submission.

  She might have, too, if she hadn’t felt the familiar flicker of shame. If she buckled now, the doubt would always be there, the knowledge that she’d betrayed herself out of fear and insecurity. She needed time, and she needed him to want her enough to fight for her.

  Or wait for her.

  It took every scrap of self-control to pull away. “I need to think,” she gasped, which wasn’t the most graceful way to say it, but if she didn’t get the words out, she’d kiss him again and be lost.

  He chased after her and licked her bottom lip. “Think. Yeah, all right.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d been braced for frustration or anger until he gave her neither. “You’re sure? You—you’ll wait?”

  He was panting, heavy breaths falling warm on her cheek. “All things considered, it only seems fair.” Then he smiled. “I’d wait even if it wasn’t.”

  The wicked curve of his lips rocketed her heart into her throat. So much promise. So much beautiful, filthy promise, and s
he couldn’t stop herself from asking. “And if I say yes? How far will you take me?”

  “As far as you want to go,” he whispered. “No, all the way. I’m finished with limits.”

  It was her turn to stare at his mouth. She wanted to claim his lips, to kiss him again, just once, and if she did, she’d never stop. “I’ll think,” she said, stepping back before she could do something reckless. “I promise.”

  Jasper took a deep breath. “Think. Then come talk to me.”

  Holding the painting against her chest as a shield, she nodded. “I will. But you should go now.”

  “Because you don’t trust me to keep my hands to myself?”

  He was teasing her, and that was the part she’d missed most of all. Her lips twitched, and she had to fight to press them into a stern line. “Of course you will. You may not have noticed, but I’ve learned how to say no. Thanks to Lex, I’m getting pretty good at it.”

  “I’ve noticed.” He rubbed his knuckles over her collarbone.

  Noelle batted his hand away. “I’m saying it now. No, Jasper. I need time and space.” Mostly because without the space, she’d never make herself take the time—but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it. O’Kane men were already universally overconfident.

  His discontented rumble melted into a sigh, and he held up both hands. “I’m going. You know where to find me.”

  She nodded, clamping down on the surge of panic that threatened. Watching him walk away would hurt, but she needed him to go. She needed to trust that he would come back. “I’ll see you around.”

  He paused at the door, his hand on the knob, and smiled at her. “We’re bound to run into each other, Noelle.”

  It was dangerous to tease, but she couldn’t resist. “Especially if you keep showing up for my acts.”

  “It makes for a damn nice view, I’ve got to give you that.” Jasper pulled open the door but paused just over the threshold. “Sweet dreams.”