Ride Hard: Deadly Scorpions MC

by Snow, Jenika

  And as I rest my head on his pillow, one he’s laid on countless times before, I can’t help but close my eyes and just exhale slowly. The heavy weight of sleep falls down on me, and I don’t want to fight it. I want to just let myself be free, to float away, just give myself this reprieve away from reality.

  I want to dream about other things, things that make me smile, images of a different life, another world. But as I let myself drift off, it’s Ride who fills my mind.

  I don’t know what wakes me or how long I’ve been sleeping, but I’m very aware I’m not alone. For a moment, my heart jerks in my chest and fear takes hold. I think I’m back at Einstein’s with his too thin body pressed against mine, his liquor-laced breath moving along my neck. I almost struggle, but then reality sets in and I remember I’m at Ride’s MC compound, that I’m in his room.

  And as I let that sink in, I realize the body behind me is big and strong. He smells of wilderness and spice and everything that is all male.

  It’s Ride.

  I hear his even, deep breathing behind me, feel his hand on my hip, his palm big, his fingers long and strong as they hold me to him.

  Is he asleep? The knowledge that he came back in the room and sleeps in the bed with me, holds me, warms me even though it shouldn’t. Because all I want to do is go back to sleep, feel him right behind me, know that everything is okay no matter what. But I don’t know that everything is or will be okay. I don’t know any of this, because my future is so uncertain right now.

  I shift ever so slightly, hoping I don’t wake him. I look over my shoulder and see his eyes are closed, his face taking on this relaxed appearance. I wonder if he’s dreaming. Do men like him dream? Bad men, ones who do illegal things to survive?

  I swallow and look down at his hand that rests on my waist. It’s so masculine. The very feel of it seems to heat me from the inside out, and I can see calluses. He does manual labor, and I wonder how those digits would feel moving over my naked body, how it would feel to have him tearing off my clothes because he’s so hungry for me.

  I feel flushed, needy. This is such an unusual feeling for me, the sensations moving through my veins. I’m wet, and it doesn’t help my arousal to smell him all around me, to wear his clothes, to have his body heat seeping into me. I don’t know what I’m doing as I lift my hand and place it on his ever so slightly as I trail my fingers along his knuckles. His fingernails are blunt, clean. But I can see what looks like stains on the digits.

  I can picture him working on motorcycles wearing nothing but a dirty white T-shirt, his muscles straining against the material, sweat beading on his big, strong body.

  God, I need to stop thinking about him this way. All it’s doing is arousing me, making me needy and want things I’ve never experienced before. I wouldn’t even know what to do with a man like Ride. I’m too naïve, innocent. Even so, I find myself imagining all the filthy, obscene things he probably likes in bed. I picture him dominating me, his body pressed against mine, his hands holding my arms above my head as he pounds into me. It has a flush stealing over me.

  I shouldn’t want him.

  But I do.

  I should push his hand off, move away, but the truth is, I like him being this close to me. I like the feel of his big, hard muscular body pressed to mine. Ride makes me feel safe and protected, like the shitty world I’ve lived in my entire life can’t touch me.

  I’m scared, but not because of Ride or this life he leads.

  I’m afraid of what I feel for him... of what I want with him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ride

  Fuck, this girl is killing me, and she probably has no idea. When I get back to the room, she’s sleeping. It’s early, but I know she’s exhausted, that the events of everything that happened probably caught up with her. I should leave her alone, walk away, but I can’t.

  I shed my clothes and slip into the bed with her.

  She’s fully clothed, and I hate it. I’m naked, how I always sleep, so it’s not abnormal, and not like I’m trying to be a fucking pervert. I wrap my arm around her and pull her back against me, and I feel how her body tightens involuntarily, as if even in sleep she’s on alert.

  I wouldn’t have thought I could fall asleep—not that I’m not tired—because I have so much shit running through my mind. I keep thinking about our circumstances, how we met. Maybe it’s because I’ve been chained in a fucking basement for longer than a sane person could handle, but more than likely, the reason I shouldn’t be able to find peace in sleep is because my arms are full of Langley. But the longer I hold her, the more I feel relaxation and contentment start to claim me. I feel myself sinking into the mattress as my body sheds the bullshit of everything that happened.

  And as soon as I start to feel myself fall asleep, reality has me waking up. Langley touching me, moving her fingers over my hand, has me coming alert. That in itself is bad enough, but then she starts moving her sweet little ass against me, rubbing these lush mounds against my cock.

  My hard-as-a-rock, ready-to-pound-nails cock.

  I deserve fucking sainthood for not grabbing her hips and burying myself balls-deep inside her sweet, wet, and warm cunt. But I don’t do that, and not because I don’t want to. Because fuck, I really do.

  When I take Langley, it’ll be because she asks me for it. It’ll be because she begs me to fuck her.

  Hell, if she keeps torturing me like this, I might say fuck the waiting, wanting her to plead for it, and just take her.

  “Langley, baby,” I growl against her ear, letting my lips trace the shell. Her body freezes, going solid against me, and for some reason that makes me fight a smile. “You keep moving like that, I’m going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours.”

  I hear her gasp, the sound loud in the empty room. What she doesn’t do is tell me to do it—which is a fucking shame.

  “You should let me go,” she whispers eventually.

  “Maybe someday,” I respond and sit up in bed, doing my best to sound bored, even though my body is on fucking fire. “But first, I’m going to bury myself inside of you. And when that happens, because it will, baby girl, I’ll have my fill of you.”

  Her body language changes, and I know I’ve succeeded in pissing her off now, which is good. If I’m going to give myself blue balls while forcing Langley to admit she wants me, the least I can do is make her as miserable as I am.

  “You’re a jerk,” she huffs, rolling over and holding the sheet close to her body. It’s ridiculous, since she’s fully dressed, but I just shake my head, holding off my grin. Then I get up, walking over to the dresser where I left a tray of fruit and toast earlier. I have the toast covered. It’ll be cold by now, but that doesn’t matter, because at least it’ll put something in her belly. I need to make sure she starts eating better. Langley is hot as hell with a tight little body, but she definitely needs to eat more, to get some of those womanly curves I know she’ll look smoking with. I doubt Einstein cared if she ate at all.

  “Oh my God!” she cries, her gaze right between my legs.

  “What?” I ask with a lazy smirk as I look at her. I lift my eyebrow in question, although I already know what’s wrong with her. I grab an apple and bring it up to my lips, still staring at her, daring her to respond.

  “You’re naked!”

  I’m full-on grinning now. “Good of you to notice.” I take a bite of the apple; the tart, juicy fruit is good on my tongue, a crack filling the room as my teeth sink into it. It tastes fucking good, but I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the sweetness I’d get if my face was buried between Langley’s legs. Christ, I may not survive seducing this girl.

  “Cover up,” she says, and her cheeks are bright red.

  “Why? You act like you’ve never seen a cock before.” I take another bite. “And besides, you’re here because I want to fuck you, Langley. People have sex naked, baby, in case you didn’t know it.”

  She scowls. “You’re a pig,” she mumbles, dragging her gaze a
way from my thick dick, which is bobbing in the air, impossibly hard and ready for her.

  “You need to accept that it’s going to happen. There’s no going back.”

  “Trust me, I’ve accepted it,” she mutters. “I know that’s the only reason you brought me back here. I don’t understand why you’re waiting. Why don’t you just do it now? Why put it off?”

  “Just do it? Can’t you even say the words, little girl? C’mon, let me hear you say it.”

  “Say what? Ask why you haven’t raped me yet?” she prompts, her face flaming red as she avoids my gaze. Her words annoy me more than piss me off, but she’ll pay for that. I won’t have her running from this—from us.

  “Now you’ve done it, Langley.” Those words are a rough growl from me.

  “What?” she asks, trepidation on her face when she takes in my tone.

  “You’ve pushed me to the point that I’m forced to prove the truth to you.”

  “What truth?”

  “That nothing between us can even get close to that sick fucking word.” I take a step toward her. “I’ve never forced myself on any woman, ever. What happens between us will be mutual want, need, and a whole lot of consensual hardcore, dirty fucking.” I see her throat work as she swallows nervously at my words, and I can’t help but notice she doesn’t argue with me on the topic. “But you can rest easy for right now and go back to pretending you don’t want my cock or that you don’t imagine my mouth between your legs, eating out your sweet little pussy and making you beg for more.”

  She squirms on the bed, and if she got any redder, she would fucking glow in the dark. As for me? My balls hurt I’m so full of cum. A bead of it has escaped the tip and is sliding along the crown. Can she see it? I’m pretty fucking sure the answer to that is yes as I watch her gaze dip down to my shaft.

  “Why?” she mumbles, licking her lips. “Why can I… rest easy?”

  “Because I’m waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?” she asks as I walk toward her. Her pupils dilate as she watches my dick with each step I take.

  Can she see how it’s straining to get to her? I’ve never been this turned on in my life.

  I lean down, grabbing her by the back of her neck, holding her still. I run the juicy apple against her full, thick lips, making them shine. I imagine it’s my cum coating them instead. Christ, she has no idea just how truly fuckable she is, how much she was made to give a man pleasure.

  Not just any man though.

  Me. Only me. She was made for my pleasure and mine alone.

  “I’m waiting for you to beg me for it, baby,” I growl, tossing the apple aside, hearing it hit the floor with a thud. I take her mouth hard and fast, taking in the taste of apple and Langley and making it a kiss that won’t satisfy her but instead just makes her hotter.

  Makes both of us hotter.

  It’s torture for both of us, but I’m okay with that. Tonight, I’m in a card game with my crew. I think I’ll make little Langley sit in my lap. Of course, I’ll make her wear a dress and no panties. Yeah, I like that fucking idea a lot, and if she’s a good little girl, I’ll finger-fuck her while I’m playing cards with my boys.

  I wonder if she can hide the fact she’s coming to everyone around us.

  It’ll be fun to find out…

  Chapter Nineteen

  Langley

  I can’t believe where I am right now, what I’m doing. I feel completely exposed despite being fully dressed, feel gazes on me as if they are fingers running across my skin.

  Here I am, willingly sitting on Ride’s lap, the circular table in front of us covered with playing cards, and in the center, a huge stack of cash. I thought he was bluffing when he said he wanted me to wear this dress, sans panties, and sit on his lap. I told him no, fuck him. But when he told me he was doing this because it needed to be proven that I was his, that in order for people to not mess with me, to not go against him, I had to show I didn’t want anybody else to touch me but him, I found myself agreeing.

  And I still wasn’t sure why.

  It didn’t matter anyway. It isn’t like I can deny him. I can keep saying I’m a prisoner here, but it’s not like I’m chained up. He gave me free reign, didn’t say I couldn’t leave. And for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m safe, like I’m able to actually breathe.

  “Motherfucker, you better either bet up or fold,” Ride says gruffly, one hand possessively looped around my waist.

  I look down at my hands, my fingers twisted together. The fact I wore no panties is a little disconcerting. I feel even more bare and vulnerable. Not to mention, I’m wet, embarrassingly so.

  Sitting on Ride’s lap, trying not to let his body heat, the scent of him, or the fact that he is so masculine consume me is harder than I think it should be.

  He places his hand of cards down and then has his palm on my thigh. I look at it, his hand so big, his fingers so long, big, callused… sexy.

  I try to control myself, try not to breathe harder or squirm on his lap. But it’s a losing battle. I feel my nipples beading beneath the material of my dress. I don’t even know where he got the garment from. I figure it’s from one of the girls, and I don’t know if I like that fact.

  Is it someone’s he previously slept with?

  I clear my throat and straighten a little bit, but all that does is have me shifting on his lap, my thighs rubbing together, pinching my clit so I gasp involuntarily. I feel his gaze on me and snap my head in his direction, seeing his serious expression, his focus trained right on me.

  He knows.

  He knows how he affects me, how he affects my body.

  And I find that hot as hell.

  I hold my breath when I feel him lean in, when his lips brush against the shell of my ear.

  “Do you know what I think?” Ride whispers softly, and I shake my head before I can stop myself from responding. That just gives him more power, acknowledging him, letting his words affect me.

  He doesn’t pull back, and I don’t either. I inhale slowly as I feel him smile against my skin, the corner of his mouth kicking up.

  “I think you like sitting on my lap with nothing but this dress on. I think you want me to slide my hand up your thigh, don’t you?”

  I start to breathe harder, faster, but I refuse to answer him. And all that does is make him know the truth.

  I slowly pull back, his scruff-covered jaw moving along my cheek, my skin so soft compared to his. It slightly abrades me, but I like it. He’s only an inch from my mouth now, his eyes trained on me, holding my gaze with his own.

  “Just admit it; be honest with me, with yourself.”

  I can hear people all around us, but I can tell no one is paying attention to this little intimate interaction. There’s no one to interfere, not even my own common sense to butt in.

  I feel the hand he has on my thigh slowly start to creep up. Ride moves it underneath the material of my dress, and then he stops, just waits as if he wants me to beg him.

  God, I’m so mad at myself for how I feel toward him. His fingers are only an inch from my soaking wet pussy. I force myself not to shift on his lap again, because I know all that’s going to do is cause friction between my thighs. My clit throbs, tingles from my arousal.

  I lick my lips, knowing what I’m about to say will change everything. I want him so badly, but I hate myself for that fact as well. I feel my pulse start to race even faster, even harder. He doesn’t look expectant, doesn’t even appear smug. His expression is stone-cold, as if he has all the time in the world for me to admit this.

  And as I feel the words start to come up from my throat, form on my tongue, I know I’m absolutely insane. But I can’t stop myself.

  And so I find myself saying, “I do want this.” Those words are so low, almost husky as they spill from my lips. “I want you, Ride.”

  There’s no going back now.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ride

  I wrap my hand around the back of Langley�
�s neck and pull her to me, kissing her so fucking hard I know I’m bruising her lips. I feel like I’ve won a fucking war. I don’t completely understand this pull I have when it comes to her, this thing between us, but I know it’s strong. I know it’s getting stronger, and the feel of Langley in my arms has fast become the only thing in my life I’ve allowed myself to get addicted to.

  “About fucking time, baby,” I growl against her lips when we break apart for air.

  I lift her in my arms, standing at the same time, intent on taking her back to my room and finally having her.

  “Hey, man, what about the game?” I hear one of my brothers complain.

  “Fuck the game,” I yell back, and the bastards laugh.

  Langley’s staring up at me, desire etched on her face, hunger so intense it burns me. I have no doubt she sees the same reflected back when she looks at me. I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to finally have my taste of her.

  I take her back to my room, slamming the door shut with my foot, carrying her to the bed. I toss her gently on the mattress, but roughly enough she bounces slightly before curling her hands into the sheets. Our gazes hold as I kick my boots off. I yank my shirt over my head, throwing it to the floor. Her sweet little tongue comes out, the tip licking her lips as she stares at me hungrily. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, moving her chest harshly as if she’s ran for miles and miles. As my gaze drops down, I see her hard, pebbled nipples pushing against the flimsy, sheer white fabric of her dress.

  My dick stirs, swelling even more. I feel it push against my jeans, the teeth of the zipper pressing into the tender flesh on my shaft. I’m so hard for her, so fucking ready to plunge into her silken depths and finally claim her. That was all that was on my mind until I caught a glimpse of her tongue, watched her lips glisten as she pants out small puffs of breath.