Inciting a Riot: A Riot MC Novel #2

by Karen Renee

  Cal gave me a sidelong glance, then to Mallory, he asked, “You buyin’ anything else? Anything remotely as hot as that dress you wore today?”

  She pressed her lips together, and said, “Maybe. If it means that much to you, I guess I could.”

  His voice was clipped when Cal said, “They got anything half as hot as that red dress you wore today, then get it. You don’t have the money for it, get it outta my wallet tonight. Seriously. That dress is hotter than the first biker-babe outfit you wore for me in February and much as I hate to say it, it’s hotter than that kick-ass navy sweater dress that makes you look like a fuckin’ hourglass. There’s somethin’ you like there, get it. Got me?”

  Mallory gave him a mock military salute, and said, “Got it, Sarge.”

  Cal sighed. “Do not get cute with me, when I’m thinkin’ of that sex-on-wheels dress on your hot fuckin’ body.”

  I was almost uncomfortable, so I said, “All right, all right, people. Cal, does this mean Mallory and I can drop you two off beachside in the morning and then shop?”

  Cal nodded at me.

  With that, I gathered our paper plates and various take-out containers and took them into the kitchen to throw them away. I shoved them into the garbage can, and before I could make my way out of the kitchen, Vamp was at my back.

  He whispered in my ear, “Gonna take a shower, babe. Don’t change out of that dress, Capisce?”

  I shook my head and said, “I understand, but I still gotta call Roxanne since I didn’t do it before we all ate.”

  I felt his heat leave my backside, and as he strolled away he said, “Whatever, babe. As long as you keep the dress on, that’s all I care about.”

  My cell was on the far side of the kitchen counter, so I nabbed it and went into the living room for some privacy. I dialed Roxanne, but there was no answer except her prompt to leave a voice message.

  After the beep, I said, “Hey, Roxanne. It’s Frankie, I was returning your two calls from yesterday. I know you got what you needed from Reggie, but I wanted to get a status update about my ‘non-customer’, as you put it yesterday afternoon. You can call me back. Anytime this weekend should be fine, though Sunday I should be traveling on the back of a motorcycle, so if I’m in transit, I won’t hear the phone ring. Have a great weekend. Bye.”

  *** ***

  Turned out, Vamp wasn’t going to take me back to my place on Sunday like I thought he was. How did I manage to get myself into this with him? I should have insisted that we take my vehicle because, when Mallory and I went back to the Rebel Market in the morning, I lost my self control and bought four more dresses. There was no way all of my stuff would fit inside the saddlebags on his Harley-Davidson. We picked up Cal and Vamp at the beach where we had left them to fish. After we returned to the house, I found out we weren’t leaving until Monday at the earliest.

  “What do you mean, we aren’t leaving until Monday, Cal? I gotta go to work on Monday,” Mallory said.

  “We’re stayin’ the whole weekend, woman. And I don’t feel like leaving until Monday afternoon. You can call in sick. Live a little, sweet cheeks.”

  She shot him an irritated glare, and I turned to Vamp, “You do know that I have to go into the office Monday, too.”

  “That’s too bad, doll, ’cause I’m with Cal. Not leavin’ until Monday at the earliest. Was really thinkin’ we could hang down here longer than that. You got someone coverin’ your shit at work. Thinkin’ you need this more than you realize.”

  I was starting to see red, but I did not want to hash it out with Vamp in front of Mallory and Cal since that wouldn’t be too cool. Instead, I turned on my heel and went into the bedroom to see if any of my dresses would fit in my tiny overnight bag. I was sifting through the shopping bag when my cell phone rang. The display indicated it was my boss Roxanne.

  “Hey, Roxanne.”

  “Hi, Frankie. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you last night. It’s been a regular clusterfuck with the Memorial Day holiday approaching and then this Stillman asshole making his false accusations. I hate to say it, but you should take another four days off. The company lawyer thinks that would be in everyone’s best interest.”

  I sighed, “Okay. Well, I guess that cuts into my holiday vacation time.”

  “Negative on that. You’re one of my top performers, and HR wants you to take this time unpaid. Thank God you’re on a commission-based salary. If you’d been one of our in-house processors or underwriters, you’d be screwed, but as it stands, just put this shit out of your mind. Do something fun. As they say, the best revenge is living well.”

  “Ok, well, if you need anything on my pending loans –”

  “Nope. Legal would have my head. I’ll call you Thursday, give you the lay of the land.”

  “All right. Have a good Saturday.”

  I tossed the phone on the bed. Vamp sauntered into the room and wrapped his arms around me from behind, “Not mad at me are you, babe?”

  “No, not mad, just irritated when you bikers make decisions that impact your women without consulting with said women. It’s annoying and rude.”

  “You know the score on the biker way. We do what we want to, not what we should do. You up for Tiki Jerry’s tonight with Cal and Mallory?”

  “Um, am I Italian? I may not have actually met my father or his people, but seriously, I have yet to encounter a pasta sauce or a form of carbohydrate paired with tomatoes that I do not like. Of course, I’m up for Tiki Jerry’s.”

  “Good.”

  The rest of the weekend went essentially much the same. Cary would ask me if I was up for something if he thought it would be too taxing. Otherwise, we hung with Cal and Mallory Saturday night, much of Sunday and Monday morning. They left for Jacksonville after we all had lunch at a Daytona diner that had some of the best food in all of Volusia County. Once they took off, Vamp and I rode The Loop twice in a row. The days were getting longer, so we stopped off in the middle of the second run to walk down to the beach. After walking a half-mile or so, Vamp suddenly wrapped his hands around my waist from behind. Then he managed to gently lower us both to the ground. His legs shifted so both were on my right side; he slid down so he was lying on his side. He pulled me down from sitting to a low slouch, then leaning up to my face he kissed me, slow and sweet, for what seemed like half-an-hour, but was probably more like ten minutes.

  I broke the kiss, even though it was utterly delicious. I didn’t need beach sand getting under my cast since the damn thing already managed to itch like a bitch at the least opportune moments. Vamp looked squarely into my eyes, and I had to imagine that he knew I didn’t want to stop his progress. His growled words to me solidified that notion.

  “C’mon. Let’s get home. Shouldn’t have started something we can’t finish on the beach.”

  Monday night and all of Tuesday morning we spent in bed, and it ran the gamut from gentle and slow to rough and fast. I lost count of the number of orgasms I had in the span of twelve hours, but I did know it was a lot and I was wore out in the best possible way. I found out that Vamp had learned a thing or two about cooking for himself in the past six years because Tuesday afternoon he brought me brunch in bed, which consisted of crepes stuffed with a strawberry concoction with whipped cream that was to die for.

  Wednesday, Cary would hear none of my protests about the prospect of skinny-dipping in the pool and Jacuzzi. I was busy fuming at him about this when he suddenly appeared with a huge roll of plastic wrap and a roll of Glad Press ‘n’ Seal wrap. In record time, he had my hand and arm wrapped up tight against any form of moisture. It was so much wrapping that I could feel my palm and forearm beginning to sweat. Needless to say, we engaged in many pool activities that weren’t strictly swimming on what Cary called “Wet Wednesday.”

  I woke up Thursday morning thinking we would finally head back to Jacksonville. For one thing, Cary’s dad and Marnie were due home from their five-night cruise sometime today. For a second thing, I desperately needed to
go home because I was barely hanging onto my sanity and not sliding into a full-fledged freak-out. Wednesday night, after we both had showered (together) and dried and moisturized our pruned skin, Cary grabbed my waist and the backs of my knees in order to carry me bride-over-the-threshold style to the bed. Once he placed me in the bed like a prized possession, he again told me his desire to marry me. I managed to brush off his crazy notion at the time. But the seed of that idea was planted in my mind. That desire of his was still a completely foreign entity to me, not just because we were re-establishing ourselves, but also because I had never thought he could be a one-woman man after what I witnessed six years ago. Regardless, I desperately wanted to get back to my own home turf, in order to better protect myself against his aggressive requests.

  I was lying in bed thinking about how nice it would be to sleep in my own bed, when Vamp came out of the bathroom and asked, “You call your boss yet, baby?”

  My eyes slid to his half-dressed form standing in the doorway of the bathroom, “Nope. I’ll do that when I get home today.”

  “Not leavin’ today,” was Vamp’s annoying response.

  I looked at him trying not to glare, and likely failing at it. I took a deep breath and tried to school my features into my normal expression.

  I pushed up on an elbow and asked, “Has it occurred to you that your parents, well, your dad and step-mom, might just want the house to themselves tonight?”

  His response was a terse, “Don’t care.” My eyes narrowed at him but he continued, “They had plenty of time to themselves out on the deep blue ocean. They’ll get the place back to themselves Friday.”

  My narrowed eyes closed but I could feel my mouth hanging open at his brazen attitude. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Vamp had put a knee in the bed and was looming over me. This did not signal good things from him.

  “Has it occurred to you, baby, now that I got a second chance at the one I didn’t just let get away, I fuckin’ pushed her away, that I’m damn sure gonna do everything I have to in order to make sure that second chance goes completely perfect? Because you can bet your sweet ass that is exactly what I’m doing, and I intend to keep on doing it. Ain’t nobody better at singing my virtues than Pop; add in the fact that the two of you get on like two lost peas of the same pod, and it’s a double-whammy in my arsenal.”

  I felt my chest getting tight. His statement to me a few days ago was truer than I realized. He was damn sure fighting to win the war, and in no way was he being fair about it. The problem for me was that I figured he’d already won the war, so why did he need a double-whammy or anything in his arsenal?

  “But why?” I foolishly asked.

  “Why what?”

  I shook my head at him. “Why do you need anything in your arsenal at all? I mean you’ve essentially won the war.”

  His eyebrow arched at me, taking his silver hoop with it. “Have I?”

  The conversation was cut short by the opening of the front door, and a peal of feminine giggles. “Warren Sullivan, put me down this instant. This is ridiculous, and we don’t have time for you get a hernia.”

  I was naked under the sheets, so before Marnie or Warren could peek into the bedroom, which was just off the foyer, I scurried into the bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes later, I had used the facilities, scrubbed my face, and brushed my teeth. I unlocked the door and slowly poked my head out. The bedroom door was closed and Vamp was nowhere in sight. I dressed quickly in a pair of khaki shorts and a white tank-top with a picture of Raphael-esque angels looking down over a woman biker. Amongst the angels was a flowing banner that read, “Never ride faster than your angel can fly.” It was a new purchase; I had found it while out with Mallory on Saturday, and it fit me like a dream. I slid some flip-flops on my feet and went in search of the newlyweds and Vamp.

  CHAPTER 16

  I stepped into the kitchen to find Warren standing by the stove with eggs, bacon, and pancake mix at the ready.

  “I understand you have not eaten yet, Lorraine. Pancakes, bacon, and eggs sound good?”

  “One pancake and two pieces of bacon, please.”

  Warren shot a look at me over his shoulder, “No eggs? Really?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not really big on eggs.”

  I heard noises coming from upstairs, so, before Marnie could make her way down to the kitchen, I said, “I'll be out on the patio.”

  I found a book in the living room then took it out to the patio and lounged.

  Dull snippets of voices in conversation could barely be heard out on the patio. I was debating going back inside when the sliding glass door opened, but nobody came out. Then Vamp walked out carrying two plates of food. He set the plates down on a patio table and before he could slide the glass door closed, I heard Warren yell out, “Ask her if she wants a mimosa, son!”

  I shook my head as I swung my legs off the chaise lounge where I was seated. I moved to the table and said, “No thanks, Warren.”

  Marnie was standing in the door way with her hand on the handle of the door, “Good morning, Lorraine.”

  “Morning,” I said, with a shy smile.

  She passed two glasses of orange juice to Vamp and then slid the door closed. Vamp set the glasses down on the table. I pulled a chair out to sit down, but Vamp pulled it next to what was going to be his chair. Then he moved around both chairs and was standing directly in front of me and his eyes were blazing into mine.

  After a moment he asked, “Do you know what you said to me last Thursday night when I told you I wanted to marry you?”

  That was just a week ago, but it felt like six months ago at this point. However, I did remember making light of it, so I said, “I asked if you’d been drinking from your father’s glass.”

  He gave me a stern look. “You did, but you also said, ‘It’s too soon.’ Then when I told you it was six years too late, you said ‘Let’s take it one day at a time, and...’ We’ve been doin’ the one-day-at-a-time thing. But I realized you trailed off when you said ‘and…’ I didn’t think much of it at the time. Then when I did think about it, I figured you were tryin’ to protect yourself. I don’t wanna jump to any conclusions. I wish I would have pressed you about what you were trailin’ off from. Got a feeling you had something else to say about taking it one day at a time. Then I mentioned marrying you again last night, and you gave me the brush-off. What are you scared of? What’s with the walls you’re putting up?”

  Why did he have to be so damn smart? He knew I was scared, and that was the God’s honest truth. My conversation with Reggie came back to me along, with the lines from Strictly Ballroom. I shouldn’t be fearful of giving Vamp and me a second chance together. However, that was far easier said than done. It didn’t say good things about me, but part of why my mother and I didn’t get along the greatest was because I really didn’t want to repeat her mistakes. She did her best with me, and I know it was hard being a single mom in a small Georgia town. Her blaming me for my father skipping town, and telling me men never commit, created the fear that was leaving my love life ‘half-lived’. When I settled down, it had to be for good. I couldn’t let him know that right now though.

  To answer his question, I said, “I’m not putting up walls.”

  His eyes bulged slightly. “Do not lie to me. What were you going to say last week? I have a hard time believing that you wouldn’t remember what you wanted to say.”

  He was not wrong. I definitely remembered what I had wanted to say. The question was could I woman-up and tell him. Again, I waited too long to answer. Vamp blew out a sigh and swiftly moved to his chair to sit down. He stabbed some scrambled eggs and shoved it in his mouth. Holding his fork aloft, he gazed past the pool and into the scrub that was beyond Warren’s yard. Clearly, he was done with me.

  I hated when anyone was angry with me, but I especially hated when Vamp was angry with me. It made me feel a despair that was unparalleled. To soothe this feeling, I blurted, “I was going to tell you to make
me your old lady before we tried marriage.”

  There was a silent pause that felt like an eternity, and I jumped slightly when Vamp’s fork broke the silence with a sharp clatter against his plate. He shot out of his chair and stood in front of me again. His eyes were boring into mine, and I was guessing that he was trying to make sure that I wasn’t lying.

  His hand came to my cheek, fingers sliding into the hair on the side of my head, “Honey, that’s the same thing.”

  My eyes bulged at him slightly. “Why do you think I trailed off?”

  A smile slowly worked its way across his face. “And you knew it’s the same damn thing.”

  I pressed my lips together because I hated it when he was right.

  Suddenly he said, “No. I’m wrong. It isn’t the same damn thing.”

  “It isn’t?”

  The smile turned almost sinister. “It’s more than marriage. Much, much more. And you knew that, too, and you almost threw that out there instead.”

  He chuckled and then gave me a peck on the lips. A peck! Not to say that I memorized every kiss I ever got from him, but he had abilities that far and away surpassed mere pecks. What the hell was that? Then he turned and sat back down to eat. I stared at him wondering if I should be appalled or pissed as hell. Being a woman, I didn’t wonder long, because I decided I could be both at the same time.

  Being both appalled and pissed as hell, my voice was downright shrill when I asked, “What was that? And what are you doing?”

  Vamp’s look was calm. “I’m eating. You should too, so sit down and eat, babe.”

  “What?”

  “Sit down and eat. You just asked to be my old lady. I gotta think on that, and I think best when I’m eatin’.”

  My hands were itching to throw my plate in his face, but I asked, “You need to think on it?”

  My freight train of shit for Vamp was derailed by Warren and Marnie coming out to the patio with their plates and mimosas. They both sat down and Warren said, “I’m so glad you two are getting along.”