Guts & Glory: Ryder (In the Shadows Security Book 2)

by Jeanne St. James

  Big mistake.

  Huge. Just like his erection, which was tenting the sheet. But it wasn’t like he could hide it. For fuck’s sake, if he turned to his side it would be like the kick stand on his Harley.

  Her head was thrown back on the pillow, her neck arched, her eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth parted and all kinds of dick-hardening sounds were rising from those lips.

  The ones that had been wrapped around that dick so expertly not even ten minutes ago.

  Her knees were cocked, and she had one hand on her breast, her fingers twisting and pulling on her nipple and the other...

  The other was tucked between her legs but he couldn’t see what she was doing.

  Not that he needed to see it.

  He knew.

  He knew exactly what she was doing because her hips were rocking back and forth on the mattress.

  He dug deep to find the willpower he knew he had. Somewhere. It was there somewhere. Willpower honed from years of sacrifice while in the military.

  The self-control he’d learned from being in some of the shittiest places on the face of the earth, dealing with some of the shittiest humans for the shittiest reasons.

  Kelsea was just a female. A woman. A brat. A bratty woman trying to get her way.

  He could ignore her.

  She’d be done soon... hopefully... then she could turn off the light and go to sleep.

  Yep, that was going to happen. Anytime now.

  For fuck’s sake.

  He carefully rolled to his side, away from her, and muffled his groan into the pillow.

  Why? Why did she tempt him so much?

  She shouldn’t.

  She was the opposite of what he liked.

  Pliant and pleasant. Sweet. Happy. Uncomplicated.

  However, that wasn’t what his dick liked. Not right now, anyway.

  No, his dick would be perfectly fine with complicated, smart-mouthed, stubborn and reckless.

  His brain and his dick warred with each other. Unfortunately, his dick was winning.

  No, it wasn’t that his dick was winning, it was pulling his brain over to the dark side, convincing it that they were two consenting adults and what happened in this cabin remained in this cabin.

  It would go no further.

  Once the time here was over, he was taking her home to Shadow Valley and, if she was lucky, he might be kind enough to slow the car down before pushing her out when he delivered her back to Diesel.

  No lingering. No explanations. No nothing.

  He was done after that.

  She’d be out of his hair. No longer his job. Because if it was last thing he did, her ass would be straightened out.

  And this was why he had to resist her.

  He couldn’t give in.

  He couldn’t step in that muck.

  But his dick wanted to get dirty. Really dirty.

  He sank his teeth into the pillow and struggled not to scream.

  He’d suffered before. Plenty of times. He knew what it was like to suffer. This should be a piece of cake.

  It was just pussy.

  Just pussy.

  He didn’t need it.

  Fuck.

  She wasn’t just pussy.

  No, she was a blonde-haired, smart-assed vixen who had tempted him one too many times.

  He’d been wanting to teach her a lesson for months.

  Every other time he’d saved her ass, he’d resisted doing so.

  He’d been strong.

  He’d known it would be a mistake.

  But he’d already made one too many missteps these last couple of days.

  What would one more be?

  He was a man after all. Who could blame him for making another mistake? No one.

  Fuck.

  He jackknifed up in bed, not daring to look at her. It had sounded like she came once and was working on number two.

  His eyes slid to his jeans, which were draped over a chair in the corner. He had one condom left in his wallet. He didn’t keep them in the cabin because he’d never brought a woman here before. This was his sanctuary. His escape for when the world started closing in.

  Note to self: pick up more condoms on that trip to Walmart.

  Because there was no way he was fucking her without one. Not after seeing some of the situations he’d pulled her out of.

  She hadn’t been picky. And that was putting it mildly.

  Though, that needed to change, too. No more reckless, random fucks.

  She needed to get on the straight and narrow and settle down like that rest of her club sisters. She needed to find a good man who could deal with her ass and bring her to heel.

  She also needed to reconnect with her blood and club family. She needed to toe the line with them.

  But right now, she needed to get fucked.

  With a curse under his breath, he grabbed his wallet out of his jeans, found the last condom and stared at it.

  He should slice it with his knife was what he should do, then that would stop what he was about to do next.

  He slowly turned back to the bed and even with only the one small lamp, he could see the flush in her face, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and the pebbled peaks of her nipples caused by her own fingers. But her blue eyes were on him. Heated. Beckoning him.

  As if he was a puppet and she held the strings, he slowly moved to the end of the bed, so he could clearly see what she was doing.

  With the condom in a death grip in one hand, he climbed onto the bed, between her legs, and after spreading them wider and removing her hand, he dropped his head to take one long lick from the very bottom of her pussy all the way up to her clit.

  She was slick from at least one orgasm, possibly two. Her taste and musky scent were all woman. He sucked the hard nub into his mouth, not being gentle at all.

  Kelsea cried out and bucked against him. He did it again, making sure his teeth scraped her roughly. Her hands grabbed his head, encouraging him to continue.

  But this wasn’t about her getting what she wanted.

  He wasn’t her puppet. He would never be her puppet. She might have had that control with other men.

  But not him.

  Never him.

  This was his fucking cabin, his rules.

  He lifted his head. “Hands off.”

  Her fingers flexed against his scalp then dropped to her sides before sliding up to her breasts.

  He shook his head slightly. “Hands off. Palms flat on the mattress at your sides. Keep them there. You do not touch yourself, you do not touch me.”

  He expected her to bitch or whine, but she didn’t. She just smiled.

  Which should worry him.

  Starting from the bottom, he licked her again like he was catching the drip from a melting ice cream cone. When he nibbled at the top, her hips jerked.

  He did it again, this time letting the tip of his tongue separate her plump folds on his way up. All the while he’d kept his eyes tipped up to her.

  Watching.

  Waiting for her to disobey.

  Waiting for any reason to take her over his knee again. This time not in anger, but simply to teach her a lesson.

  He flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit, then alternated sucking it hard. He didn’t stop until she was writhing on the bed, though she managed to keep her palms planted on the mattress as she was told. Her head lifted as she stared down at him and he met her gaze, watching her carefully. Shallow breaths escaped through her parted lips like the steam from a locomotive.

  When her head slammed back into the pillow, he released her and rose to his knees.

  Her eyes opened wide and her expression of disbelief quickly morphed into one of anger. “No!” she screamed, her hands no longer flat but balled into fists and she pounded them into the bed. “No! You don’t get to do that. Not again.”

  He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and reminded her, “My cabin. My rules. While here, your ass is mine, Kelsea.”

&n
bsp; With a frustrated growl she began to roll over, kicking him hard in the process while he was still perched between her calves.

  After catching his balance, he grabbed her flailing ankle and yanked it hard, pulling her all the way over until she laid flat on her belly.

  “I just told you your ass is mine.” He slapped one of her cheeks hard. He watched her ass ripple under his palm. “Get it up.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Yup.” He grunted and grabbed the ankle of the other foot that made solid contact with his solar plexus. Fuck, that hurt.

  He had to hesitate for a second. Catch his breath. Gather his control. Because what he really wanted to do might hurt her.

  He’d hurt her once, even though she denied it, but he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt her again. No matter how much she was driving him to it.

  But she wanted it. She wanted to antagonize him to that point of anger.

  He had no idea why.

  Had she done it with others? Pushed them until they got rough with her? Got physical?

  Why?

  Why did she need that? Did she get off on it?

  There was a sweet edge of pain that he could give her without taking it over the top. If she needed it, she could ride that edge, get off on it, but still enjoy the pleasure that went along with it.

  That was if he wanted to give her any pleasure. Right now, he wasn’t feeling so generous.

  He smacked her ass again. “Ass up. Not gonna tell you again.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Darlin’, words aren’t gonna hurt me. Roadside bombs, land mines, fifty caliber weapons will. Tellin’ me to go fuck myself is child’s play. Gonna let your ankles go, if you kick me again, you will regret it.”

  With a muffled scream into the pillow, as soon as he released her ankles, she pulled her knees under her and lifted her hips off the bed until her ass was in the air like he demanded.

  Her pussy was open and shiny. She could fight him all she wanted but there was no denying she wanted him. He dragged a finger through that wetness and instead of a scream this time, she muffled a groan into the pillow.

  Fuck me. She was getting what she wanted in the end. She knew how to play the game and he had fallen right into it.

  She was smart and cunning. And all of that she wasted by not putting it to good use. If she only put all that energy into something worthwhile...

  Damn fucking shame, it was.

  “You keep your head down and your ass up. You don’t touch yourself. You don’t touch me. You take what I give you and nothing more. You got me?”

  “Fuck you.”

  He used his teeth to rip open the condom, then spit the wrapper out after pulling the condom out. He rolled it on, his cock flexing in anticipation as he did so.

  Instead of his finger, he used the head of his latex-covered cock to slide through her wetness a second time. He held on tightly to her hips so she wouldn’t push back and impale herself on him.

  She wasn’t going to take control. It was his. His cabin. His rules. She needed to get with the fucking program.

  He pulled away slightly and ran his thumb next through her slit, gathering the slickness before finding the tight hole that was tempting him.

  It would serve her right if he took her there instead, not letting her come.

  He pushed the pad of his thumb against her and she relaxed, inviting him in.

  She wanted it there. Fuck. Now he should deny that want.

  Or at least show her what she could have if she decided to stop being a brat.

  If she did, he’d give her anything and everything she wanted.

  He pressed the tip of his thumb into her and buried it up to the first knuckle.

  She groaned again, turned her head and hissed “yes” at him. “Give it to me that way.”

  He ignored her because if she kept encouraging him, he just might do that. He pushed forward until his thumb was completely inside the hot, tight canal.

  “Ryder,” she groaned, jamming her hips back.

  He plunged it in and out of her as her fingers gripped the sheets and she cried out.

  Fuck. What hadn’t this woman done? What didn’t this woman like?

  A shudder swept through him when she begged, “Please.”

  He steeled his resolve. This wasn’t supposed to be for her.

  This was to teach her a lesson.

  Wasn’t it?

  Damn skippy.

  He slipped his thumb from her and, once again, gathering her own wetness first, he slipped one finger back in and then a second. She was so tight. He scissored his fingers in an attempt to stretch her. She cried out, her sphincter squeezing him even tighter.

  “Relax,” he whispered, watching her body tense. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she hadn’t done this before.

  Could there actually be one part of her that remained untouched?

  He wasn’t going to ask because he didn’t want to hear the answer. He’d simply believe that was true.

  “Ryder,” she groaned. “Please.”

  He loved that word on her lips way too much.

  “Please what, darlin’?”

  “Fuck me.”

  “You askin’ or demandin’?”

  Her hesitation was too long for his liking.

  His fingers slipped from her as she dropped her hips to the mattress. “Are you trying to break me? Is that your goal?”

  He curled over her back, pressing his mouth to her ear, growling, “Yes, darlin’, I’m tryin’ to break you. Of bad habits, of an attitude that alienates those who love and care about you. Of not caring about yourself.”

  He traced the tip of his tongue around the delicate shell of her ear. He pushed her hair out of the way and scraped his teeth down her neck and over her shoulder. He paused for a moment then sank his teeth deep into the curve of her neck.

  She bucked underneath him as she cried out. With one hand tangled in her hair, he grabbed her hip and plunged inside her.

  She was soft and hot and wet... Her core squeezed him tight as she gasped and groaned and hitched her hips up to an angle he knew would help him hit all the right spots.

  He warred with himself whether to leave her hanging this time or to let her have the release she so wanted.

  He wanted to teach her a lesson of patience, but how could he when he had none of his own right now.

  He wanted to teach her a lesson of being malleable, but how could he when he wanted nothing more than her to be a wildcat.

  He wanted to teach her a lesson of selflessness, but how could he when denying her release appeared more selfish on his part.

  He couldn’t deny her when he wanted to see her squirming in ecstasy. With pleasure, with an orgasm.

  He unclamped his teeth from her flesh, kissing the spot where he bit her, working his way back down her neck. He sucked on her skin at the top of her spine and her hips pushed back against him with every slow thrust he took.

  Because he wanted it to be unhurried, careful and worthwhile.

  Yes, she needed to learn life was more about just her, but sex was not the way to teach her.

  He needed to find another way. Some way to open her eyes. To show her that life could be good, great even, if she actually cared.

  She needed to care.

  About herself.

  About the people that surrounded her.

  Not about him.

  No. He didn’t belong in her life.

  Not now. Not ever.

  This was such a bad idea.

  Bringing her here.

  Fucking her.

  Because, fuck him, being inside her was pulling something from him. Something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

  The desire to take care of her was strong. Seeping into his pores, running through his veins, fogging his mind, squeezing his heart.

  His head was fucking with him. That’s all it was.

  Sex caused a biological reaction, not an emotional one.

  He needed to remember that.


  Dig down deep for that willpower. To resist.

  To resist that urge to want to take care of her. To resist feeling something other than sexual attraction. To resist the urge to do more than just help drag her from that dark pit she’d been wallowing in. That recklessness, that obvious cry for help.

  He didn’t need a headache like her. Someone who fought him at every turn.

  Pliable. Pleasant. That was what he wanted.

  That wasn’t who was beneath him.

  He pressed his forehead into her back and after a moment of trying to settle his thoughts, he dragged his tongue up her spine. Tucking his arm under her hips, he hitched them higher and his fingers found where they were connected. Found where she was so soft, and he was very hard.

  They were so different.

  One doing his best to be responsible. The other doing her best to be the opposite.

  Finding her clit firm, swollen and slick, he circled it, grinding the pad of his finger against it, feeling her muscles squeeze and ripple around him with each touch, with each thrust.

  It became a mindless rhythm, his body automatically moving, bringing the both of them forward until they stood on that cliff, holding hands, waiting...

  Waiting to plunge off the edge.

  Over and into the abyss that called to them.

  He squeezed his eyes shut as she released his hand and fell without him. Her climax convulsing around him, dragging him to that same precipice, where his toes hung over the edge and he teetered.

  But he resisted. He held back. He fought the urge to follow her.

  “I want to come again. Make me come again.” She wasn’t demanding. She was breathless and begging.

  Instead, he pulled out and without thinking, pressed the head of his cock against the hole he stretched earlier. For a split second, he waited until she clearly knew what came next.

  But she was tense, and he had a hard time pushing past that tight ring of resistance.

  “Darlin’, relax. Let me in.”

  Her head rolled back and forth on the pillow, her hands still fisting the sheets, a moan escaping her.

  “I want to come again,” she pleaded.

  “You will, just listen for once. Relax. Trust me.”

  Would she? Trust him?

  “Lube,” she groaned.

  “Darlin’, my dick is drippin’ with your response. You’re wetter than a Louisiana swamp.”