Ripper's Virgin Bride

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by Winter Sloane




  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2020 Winter Sloane

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0122-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my readers, I hope you enjoy Ripper and Lily’s story as much as I loved writing it.

  RIPPER’S VIRGIN BRIDE

  Winter Sloane

  Copyright © 2020

  Chapter One

  Ripper gritted his teeth, eyed the mess he’d made, and decided to squeeze out the rest of the motel’s free liquid soap onto his leather vest. The wet leather bunched under his hands and felt heavy as hell. The bloodstains hadn’t faded one bit.

  Not his fault. That drunkard at the bar had the guts to pick a fight with him. Ripper should’ve walked away. He promised himself he’d turn a new leaf but look at him. An hour out of Windsdale, and he’d already bloodied his fists, ruined his jacket in the process with that asshole’s blood.

  Frustrated, he threw the jacket at the shower wall.

  “Ought to just leave trash behind,” he grumbled under his breath. Ripper thought about burning it, but he shouldn’t be setting unnecessary fires.

  He got out of the shower, about to leave the bathroom, but he paused by the doorway. Ripper gripped the shoddy wooden frame and looked back at the jacket. The grinning skull mounted on a bike sewn on the left shoulder stared back at him. Taunted him mercilessly with its blood-red eyes.

  Despite his misgivings, Ripper retrieved his jacket and lifted it up to his eye.

  “Vice President, my ass,” he muttered, about to rip the patch on the chest area.

  He pulled his fingers back, thought about the club, the brothers he left behind. Bear, President of the Skull Riders MC. Bear’s daughter, Liliana. A sweetheart who shouldn’t still be cleaning up her father’s messes. Guilt heavily weighed down on him.

  He clenched his jaw, shut his eyes, and counted silently to ten in his head.

  Once again, he heard Jeanne’s voice in his head.

  Promise me, Ripper. One day, you’ll get out of this life.

  Jeanne had been dead for four years now and he still couldn’t bring himself to fulfill the oath he made to her. He opened his eyes again and stared at his bruised knuckles. Ripper washed off the blood when he tried to get his jacket clean. Deciding he needed another drink, he left the jacket and the musty motel room.

  The night air felt cool on his face and skin. Ripper looked for his bike in the parking lot and spotted the Harley where he’d left it hours ago. Good. Ripper headed toward it and mounted up, not bothering with a helmet.

  Ripper recalled spotting another roadhouse a couple of miles from this shithole, a little further than the bar where he’d punched that asshole’s face in, but it would do. The engine gave a sexy little purr and he was off, gripping the familiar handlebars of his baby.

  Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the rundown establishment. From outside, he could hear the speakers blasting country music.

  Ripper shook his head. Didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t a member of the club and no longer had to watch his back every single damn minute. Ripper didn’t even have his jacket with him.

  The sad truth? He felt naked without the familiar texture of the worn-in leather on his body. Does it feel like armor? Ripper remembered one of the prospects asking one of the members.

  “Gotta get used to it.” Ripper dismounted his bike. A couple of youths hanging out by their car eyed his bike. He didn’t miss their bloodshot hungry eyes or the gang tattoos they sported on the side of their necks. Shoddy work, not like the ink on his own skin. Meth heads.

  Ripper gave them his finger, a warning. Walking past them, he said, “Any of you so much as touch my bike, I’ll rip off your heads.”

  One of the teenagers laughed but a wiser one nudged him in the shoulder and told him to shut up. Ripper meant every word. His bike was sacred to him, one of his more valued possessions.

  That done, Ripper entered the bar. Not his type of crowd or music, but it had to do. He found a spot by the bar and ordered two beers.

  “Two? You’re starting the night the right way,” said a sarcastic female voice. A familiar one.

  Ripper narrowed his eyes at the bartender who slid him two cold ones. He swore under his breath.

  “Lily, what the fuck are you doing in a joint like this?” he demanded, suddenly sober.

  He eyed her up and down. A critical error. Being Bear’s daughter, Lily hung around the club house often. Not the best place to rear a child. Bear couldn’t afford a babysitter and the woman who bore Lily had died.

  Lily had grown up while Ripper wasn’t looking. Bear would skin her if he saw her dressed in a black halter top that bared her shoulders and her soft curves. She wore tiny denim cut-offs underneath. What the hell? Lily should know better than to strut around, dressed like one of the women who hung around at the club.

  Ripper saw red. He wanted to drag her out of that bar, out of this place. Stow her away somewhere safe.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Ripper.” She served another guy two beers.

  The guy’s friend had the gall to whistle at her. Ripper told himself back in the motel room that he’d be more civilized, but right now? All he wanted to do was march up to the bastard and rip him a new one, just like his name.

  “Fuck off, junior,” he told the two men. “Or I’ll bash both your heads in.”

  The guy’s friend looked like he had plenty more to say but the wiser of the pair took one look at him and quickly spirited his friend away.

  “Look at you how?” he asked her pointedly. “I thought you were working at Skid’s place?”

  “I quit right after you left.”

  “Why? Someone giving you a hard time?” Ripper swore he wouldn’t step foot in Windsdale again, but for Lily? He’d hunt down the bastard who harassed her and make sure he couldn’t speak or move again.

  “There you go again,” she said with a sigh.

  “What?”

  “Acting overprotective. I’m not that skinny twelve-year-old who couldn’t protect herself from bullies in the schoolyard anymore, Ripper. You’re no longer in the club.”

  Lily leveled those fiery emerald eyes right at him. She might be twenty years younger than he was, but God. Lily knew how to flay a man alive with one look, expose all his flaws, and knew which place would hurt the most.

  Lily wasn’t done either. “No reason to act like my uncle or the big brother who’s obligated to watch me.”

  Ripper gripped the beer bottle in his hand tight. Uncle? Big brother? Was that all she thought he was? Fuck that.

  “Don’t ever call me those words again,” he said, looking Lily right in the eye.

  Surprise registered on her face.

  “Why? You’ve said it so many times. You don’t feel anything for me.”

  Now, he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth, the perfect curve of it. Ripper bet she’d taste like raspberries, like the lip gloss she used. He took a long pull of his beer, but it was no use. Not enough to dull the image of him thrusting his tongue down her throat while her big tits pressed up against his chest. Ripper bet she’d feel tiny and warm against him. Perfect.

  He said noth
ing and continued drinking his beer. Ripper thought by leaving the club and all its bullshit, he’d no longer have to worry about wanting his best friend’s daughter. Fate brought him right where he started, and Lily? She was asking for trouble, working at a joint not under the club’s control and dressed like that.

  Ripper wished he’d brought his jacket so he could cover her up. Punching out the lights of any fucker who so much as looked at her wrong would get him immediately thrown out. He couldn’t have that. Ripper sat where he was, sipping his beers.

  He didn’t plan on leaving until her shift was over. Then he’d give her a good talking to. Once Ripper deposited her back on Bear’s doorstep, he’d leave. He didn’t have a reason to stay. Did he?

  “I thought you’d be as far away from Windsdale as possible by now. I don’t see your jacket either,” Lily remarked once the crowd had thinned down. She began to set down another beer in front of him but he shook his head.

  “Four’s enough,” he told her.

  She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “That’s the difference between my old man and you. You know when to stop, Ripper. By the way, you haven’t answered my question.”

  “I didn’t hear one.”

  Lily furrowed her brow and he unthinkingly reached out across the bar, scattering peanut shells along the way, to smooth out her brow. She stilled but didn’t stop him from trailing his fingers down the bridge of her nose, her lips. Lily expelled a breath. Ripper pulled away, despite his misgivings.

  A beast resided in his skin, lurking so close to the surface Ripper knew it was only a matter of time before it would get out. He needed to get out of this place and get some air, except he sure as hell didn’t want to leave Lily alone here.

  “Fine. I’ll phrase it like a question this time. Is there a reason why you haven’t left this area, Ripper?”

  Chapter Two

  Thanks to the overprotective biker hovering closely, Lily hadn’t gotten many tips that evening. Part of her was annoyed Ripper sat himself there like some huge bodyguard but another side of her felt relief. She went out dressed like this knowing it would piss her father off. Then again, he was probably too hammered to notice.

  Ripper did though. He always noticed the smallest things.

  “I don’t know,” Ripper admitted. “Let me ask you something.”

  “Shoot.” Lily tried to busy herself, arranging the glasses in front of her, but she forced herself to stop, to look at him. The man she’d always had a crush on. Crush felt like a juvenile term. She’d always been in love with Ripper and had stopped seeing him as Bear’s best friend a long time ago.

  “You’re a smart girl. Got your degree. Not much can be said for most folks around here. You’ve always talked about leaving. Why haven’t you?” Ripper returned the same question to her.

  “In photography,” she said.

  “I’ve seen your pictures. They’re amazing.”

  Only Ripper praised her photos. Bear called her passion a waste of time and money, even though Lily had paid for college on her own.

  “My dad,” she began and let out a sigh. “You know how he is. He’s only gotten worse, lied to me about going to his AA meetings. I can’t just pack up and leave, sever all ties. I’m not like you.”

  Ripper’s intense stare made her feel a little self-conscious, awkward. She let anger get the better of her and that wasn’t fair. Women weren’t included in club meetings. Lily knew Ripper took all the weight of the running of the club once Bear started hitting the harder drinks more often.

  Ripper didn’t argue with her. His silent treatment made her feel worse. Strange.

  Did she imagine the heat there? Impossible. Ripper never felt that way about her. He told her years ago and yet, he didn’t look at her like someone’s kid he had to watch over, like an obligation. Ripper gazed at her the way a man wanted a woman, like he wanted to do all kinds of filthy things to her.

  Suddenly, the bar felt hot. Her nipples tightened and she felt the heat pool between her legs. Not good. She always felt this way around him. Feverish hot. Since she moved in back to the house, she always fantasied about him at night. Dreamed of him riding back to their house and stealing her away.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “That was uncalled for.”

  “One day,” he told her.

  “What?” she asked, confused.

  “I left the club one day and already, I’ve screwed up. Bloodied my knuckles fighting some drunk earlier tonight.”

  Lily didn’t know what made her reach for his hands. She’d never been this bold with him and always kept her distance ever since he rejected her once she turned eighteen. Tonight felt different. He didn’t look at her like a kid anymore. Lily knew how to fend off unwelcome advances and was used to men leering at her tits and ass her entire life. Ripper’s attention, however, was a welcomed one.

  One look from his heated gaze and she melted into a puddle. Lily forced herself to examine his bruised knuckles. Learning basic first-aid seemed ideal, especially when she practically grew up in the club house. She’d tended to numerous bruises and cuts and stitched up plenty of Bear’s men.

  “No good?” Ripper asked when she hadn’t let go of his hands.

  “Good enough. You don’t need to stick around anymore. We’re closing up soon.”

  Ripper let out that familiar and sexy laugh that never failed to melt her insides. “I’ve stayed on this long already. You kicking me out, sweet girl?”

  He’d called her that sometimes, although Lily never understood why. She always told him off, but secretly, she kind of liked it. No one had ever given her a pet name before. The few boys she dated only wanted her for one thing. Sex, but she never gave it to them.

  “Fine, you can stay,” she said. “But wait outside while we clean up.”

  Soon enough, they closed up. Her boss, Marley, cornered her in the bar before she could leave. She knew Marley only hired her because she swore a short skirt during her interview, not for her skills in serving drinks. Marley took a sip of his beer and slid one hand under his shirt to rub at his belly.

  “It’s only your first day, Lily, but I’ve got to warn you. If that boyfriend of yours is going to hang around every night, you ain’t getting much tips.” Marley looked her up and down. Her skin crawled as he set his beer down and ran his greasy hands through his balding brown hair. “I didn’t know you were into older men.”

  “I’m not,” she said in clipped tones. “Plus, I only took a job here to spite my dad. I made the wrong decision. I quit.”

  Marley sneered at her. “You what? Who do you think you are, bitch?”

  Marley grabbed her right wrist just as Ripper forced the door open. The doorknob rattled and all six-foot-plus of Ripper came barging in. Marley turned pale and was distracted for a second. Lily took that opportunity to kick the sleazy bastard in the balls. Marley groaned, releasing her.

  Lily grabbed her purse and walked up to Ripper. “I’m ready.”

  Ripper looked at Marley. Hatred blazed in Marley’s eyes. Lily tugged at Ripper’s fingers, not wanting him to make a big deal out of this.

  “Go ahead. Come closer, fucker,” Ripper said in a deadly voice, only worsening the situation. When Marley stayed where he was, Ripper chuckled. “Thought so. You touch her or even come within two feet of her again, I’ll break all your fingers then I’ll move to your face.”

  Lily knew Ripper wasn’t lying. Unlike Bear, Ripper stuck to his promises. Ripper slid a muscled arm over her shoulders and led her outside. Growing up, Lily had always been the chubby kid the boys in the playground picked on. Only after high school did she learn to love her curves, but with Ripper, she felt tiny. He simply towered over everyone else, like some kind of behemoth.

  With Ripper holding her close to his chest, she almost felt like a different person. Like she belonged to him. Lily knew the illusion wouldn’t last. Soon enough, Ripper would drop her off home. Ride away. Perhaps forever.

  Why did she even a
sk him that question earlier? What if she unknowingly pushed him into truly leaving?

  They reached his bike.

  “You remember the time I snuck out of the club house and got on your bike?” she asked him.

  “I do. I remember everything you did. You nearly fell off.” Ripper pulled away and began to grab the helmets from the back of his bike. Lily wanted this moment to last a little longer. She didn’t imagine Ripper’s naked look of want earlier.

  A test. She needed to find out what Ripper truly felt about her.

  “But you caught me,” she finished. “I thought the bike would fall on me but you were there. I was twelve then but I’m no longer a kid, Ripper.”

  “No,” Ripper said, voice harsh.

  Lily walked up to him and pressed a hand on his chest. His shirt got in the way of their skin touching and she wanted it gone. Lily had never seduced anyone in her entire life but right now, she wanted Ripper to fall for her. Give him a reason to stay. She’d go insane if he left Windsdale. A man like Ripper could disappear easily. Ripper and the others weren’t bound by the law.

  Ripper closed in, his jeans brushing against her bare leg. She moved her hands lower, slipped them under his shirt to touch hard muscle. Ripper groaned, wound one arm around her waist, and dipped it lower to cup her ass. So big and warm.

  “I never want to see you wearing these shorts again. They’re obscene,” he told her in a reprimanding voice. Who the hell did he think he was?

  “The women who hang around the club wear stuff like this all the time,” she said with a shrug, trying to play it cool.

  He glowered at her.

  “You’re not my boyfriend or anything. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  That did it. He undid the button of her shorts. Lily’s breaths came out short as Ripper moved his hand past the waistband of her underwear to touch her pussy. God. The contrast of his rough, big fingers felt good against her cunt. She couldn’t help it. A moan slipped from her lips.

 

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