Die For Her (Steele Raiders MC)

by RB Hilliard

Steele’s shoulders tightened at her breathy offer. Fuck, she was so damn tempting, but he couldn’t. Her bedroom may be upstairs, but to him, it was off-limits. He hadn’t been in a woman’s bed in over five years, and for good reason. In his world, sex was sex, but commitment was sacred. He’d seen his brothers get trapped too many times to count—all because of women. He’d watched accidental pregnancies elevate club girls to Ol’ ladies, seen too many good men get taken down. If his dad had taught him anything, it was to enjoy pussy, but never become a slave to it. He carefully gauged what to say. It was one thing to want to fuck her, but another to want to keep her. As far as he saw it, he had two choices: either leave now, or stay and distract her. He opted for distraction.

  “Maybe later,” he whispered, brushing his lips across her collarbone.

  The pulse fluttering in her neck reminded him of a trapped butterfly. Satin skin warmed under his fingertips as they trailed across her chest, dipping into the vee of her dress, his thumbs honing in on her hard, little nipples. Her eyes drifted closed, her head fell back, and her lips parted on a moan—a moan that turned into a squeak as he scooped those pretty titties from her dress. One look at her wild hair, makeup-smeared face, and tits hanging out, and his cock nearly exploded. She looked like a hot mess, the sexiest hot mess he’d ever seen. Before she caught on that he was nothing more than a dirty old man, he dropped his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth. By the time he shifted to her other tit, her legs were shaking, and her breath was sawing inside her chest. Steele could tell she’d had enough when she began to teeter on her heels.

  Releasing her tit, he gave her leg a quick squeeze, and ordered, “Panties off.”

  “What?” she gasped, as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. He didn’t know brows could raise that high. Apparently, she’d never been asked to remove her panties before.

  “I said panties off. I’ve been waiting all night to fuck you in that dress.” Her jaw nearly hit the floor. Uncomfortable didn’t even begin to describe the look on her face. And to think, he was going easy on her. When she made no move to comply, he said, “You’re a knockout, sweetheart. Way too fucking classy for a guy like me, but before you figure that out and call it quits, I’m going to take as much as I can get. That means looking, touching, licking, and filling you up with my cock whenever and however I want. If this doesn’t work for you, let me know. It’ll suck, but I’ll walk away.” He wasn’t lying; he would walk away. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to. Still looking unsure, she opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. “Say it,” he urged.

  “Fine. I was going to call you blunt and bossy, but as we both want the same thing, what would be the point?”

  Damn, she was funny. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “I’m still reserving judgment.” She took a step back and began to kick off her heels.

  “Leave them.”

  “Leave the tits out. Leave the heels on,” she mimicked. Her eyes flashed with humor as she mouthed the word, “Bossy.” Christ—gorgeous, smart, funny, and a temper—she was killing him. Her gaze narrowed on his twitching lips as she yanked up her dress, latched onto her panties, and ripped them down her legs, her gorgeous tits swaying back and forth with the movement. Straightening back up, she gave him a challenging look that said, now what?

  Chapter Three

  STEELE POUNCED ON Luciana. A gasp of surprise shot from her mouth, followed by a screech of laughter as he lifted her off her feet and carried her across the living room. In a gentle move, he deposited her onto the sofa and followed her down to his knees. She barely got her thighs spread and her dress up before his mouth was on her. Other than a well-groomed landing strip, she was completely bare. Her scent wrapped around him, and he knew what it reminded him of. She smelled like the beach, like coconuts and vanilla, or spiced rum. Whatever it was, he wanted to bury himself in it, to bury himself in her.

  “Please,” she breathed.

  He liked hearing her beg. Adding a finger to the mix, he was rewarded with a loud, drawn-out groan of appreciation. When she nearly tore the skin from his scalp, her hips rocking in short, quick bursts against his mouth, he knew she was close. Keeping his finger in play, he doubled down with a nipple pinch, and finished her off with a good hard suck. Christ, just the sound of her coming was enough to drive him over the edge.

  “God, I really needed that,” she murmured.

  Officially done fucking around, he pushed to his feet, stripped off his cut, unzipped his fly, and jerked down his pants. He had the condom from his wallet out and was in the middle of tearing it open with his teeth when he noticed her watching him. “Don’t say it,” he warned. Like a hawk, her eyes followed his hand down to his cock, surprise flickering in their depths as he grasped the base and began rolling on the condom. Her expression was priceless. Wait till I stick it in you, he thought as he moved between her thighs and sunk to his knees. Hinging forward, he reached for her hips and pulled her to the edge of the sofa before shifting into a half-crouch and lining himself up to her entrance. Their gazes locked. Their mouths touched and he thrust inside her body, their lips quickly parting with her gasp and his groan. He didn’t know whether to be proud or concerned by how tight her pussy gripped his cock.

  As much as he tried to slow it down, he couldn’t. Luciana Ferina pushed all of his buttons in all the right ways. She was a head-to-toe class act, way too good for a man like him, but he didn’t give a damn. All he cared about were those long, tan legs wrapped around his waist and the sexy as fuck heels digging into his back. Measured strokes turned fast and jerky as her golden-brown gaze ripped through his armor, stripping him layer by layer with each thrust. She begged for more, and he gave it to her. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that the classy beauty with the face of a goddess and the body to match would give as good as she got. Her body seized beneath him, her pussy gripping him like a tight fist as she came. His orgasm roared through him, his cock pulsing with the beat of his heart, as he tipped over the edge on a loud shout.

  As they lay there trying to catch their breath, he didn’t know whether to apologize or give her a high-five.

  “I’m pretty sure you just broke my vag,” she mumbled.

  Surprised laughter shot from his lips. “Give me a minute and I’ll make it up to her.”

  “A minute?” she laughed.

  He lifted up and slowly pulled out. “Okay, maybe ten.”

  Her arm flopped over her head and a finger shot out, pointing him toward the back of the room. “The bathroom’s that way.”

  Steele pushed to his feet, pulled up his pants, and paused, his gaze glued to the woman below him. Her eyes were closed, and her hair was all over the place. She was practically hanging off the sofa with one shoe on, her dress jacked up, her pussy on full display, and her tits hanging out. Her eyes slowly opened, and her lips split into a lazy smile. She clearly didn’t give a damn that he was standing there ogling her.

  With that thought, he motioned to his cock and took off for the bathroom, which he eventually found in a hallway off the back of the living room. He also found her office and a spare bedroom. He’d just flushed the condom and was in the middle of trying to lock his shit down, when his phone rang. Loco’s name scrolled across the screen. Loco was one of the club’s enforcers. Unlike Jake, he wouldn’t call unless it was important.

  “Talk to me,” Steele answered. The call was brief. Apparently, there was a fire at Spur’s. The club owned several businesses, two of which were local bars. Spur’s was the most lucrative. Loco didn’t give much information, other than to say there’d been a fire, the fire department was there, and the police were on their way.

  He found Luciana in the kitchen. She took one look at his face and called it. “You have to go.”

  He moved toward her and didn’t stop until he had her backed against the pantry door. His fingers slid to her jaw, his thumbs brushing across her delicate face. “I received a call while I was in the bathroom. It’s an emergency.” H
e knew he should leave it there and walk away, but now that he’d had her, he wanted more. He lowered his mouth to hers, intending the kiss to be brief, but the moment their lips touched, they were all over each other. The ringing of his phone interrupted them, and he took a step back.

  “Go,” she said.

  “I’ll call you,” he replied, and walked out the door.

  It took him a week to make good on that promise—a hellacious week of cleaning up the mess left by the fire—which they’d discovered was arson. A week of trying to figure out who set the fucking thing and why. If that wasn’t bad enough, their road captain, Ax, who was also his cousin, discovered his gun missing from his room. Overall, it had been a shitty week where eating and sleeping were the only breaks he got. That didn’t mean he’d forgotten about Luciana. He woke up hard for her and went to sleep jacking his cock to the thought of being with her again. He had it bad. Bad enough to make him wary, but not bad enough to walk away.

  When the end of the week arrived, and they were no closer to figuring shit out, Steele took a moment to call her. He told her he wanted to see her, and she invited him to her house for dinner the next night, after which they argued over what type of alcohol he would bring. Finally, he told her what he was bringing and hung up with a smile on his face. It was the first time he’d smiled all week.

  The next night she answered her door in a Rolling Stone’s t-shirt and jeans. Her hair was up, her feet were bare, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing any makeup. He’d called it. Makeup or no makeup, dress or jeans, heels or bare feet, she was classy to the core.

  “I made lasagna,” she announced with a smile. Steele moved through the door and didn’t stop until his tongue was in her mouth and her legs were wrapped around his waist. He carried her into the kitchen, where he deposited the booze on the counter. He thought about taking her on the table but opted for the cushy living room carpet instead. Evidently, she liked that idea, because the moment her feet hit the ground, she started stripping. He was right behind her. Her top, his jeans, his shirt, her jeans, off they flew. She beat him to the finish line, and he paused to take in her long legs, full hips, slim waist, and gorgeous tits.

  “Don’t stop now,” she urged, eyeballing the condom in his hand.

  “Someone’s in a hurry,” he teased.

  “Someone’s taking too long,” she shot back. Christ, she had a mouth on her. Smiling, he rolled on the condom and tackled her to the ground. Fifteen minutes later, after giving her an orgasm with his fingers and mouth, he buried his cock inside her sweet pussy.

  “You do know I have a bedroom,” she said later, while eating a bite of lasagna. Steele had already finished his and was lounging on the carpet in front of the fire.

  “I don’t do beds,” he told her.

  Her fork paused mid-bite. “What do you mean you don’t do beds? Where do you sleep?”

  “I sleep in my bed . . . alone.” The words hung between them; their meaning crystal clear. He could tell by the look on her face that she was mulling it over, probably trying to find a loophole.

  “Ever?” she finally asked, swallowing her bite.

  “Ever,” he replied in a tone that told her the conversation was over.

  A little while later, he stood behind her at the sink while she did the dishes. His chin was on her shoulder, his hands on her tits, and his hard cock rubbing against her luscious ass, when his phone rang.

  “Hold that thought; I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll hold that one and many more,” she murmured.

  Chuckling, he made his way to the living room, and his phone. When he saw Buck’s name, he picked up. Buck was the club’s Sgt. at Arms and a good friend of his. Steele was not pleased when Buck informed him that the little fuck Petey Salvatore was at Spur’s. Apparently, he was wasted and looking for trouble. Steele had been so busy this past week that he’d completely forgotten about Petey. He told Buck to hold him until he got there.

  Luciana stood in the doorway. “Let me guess; you have to go.” The disappointment in her voice bothered him. It also pissed him off. The fact that she didn’t, couldn’t understand his responsibilities, kept him from snapping at her.

  “Sorry, babe, but I’m gonna have to get my shirt back.” His eyes lit on her gorgeous tits as she stripped it from her body. Silence stretched between them as she handed it over and grabbed hers from the pile on the floor. He could tell she had something to say.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing.”

  He didn’t have time for this, but still, he gave it to her. “It doesn’t look like nothing.

  Jeans clutched in her hands, she said, “I don’t do this. I mean, I’ve never done this.”

  She now had his full attention. “Done what exactly?”

  “Asked a man out. Brought him to my house. Slept with him without even knowing his last name. What is your last name, by the way?” Shit, if he told her, she’d put two and two together. He wasn’t ready for that.

  “It’s just Arlan.”

  She gave him a look. “Well, Just Arlan with no last name, this is a first for me. It’s also way outside of my comfort zone.”

  He tensed. “Do you want to stop?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I—” His phone rang and cut her off. He pulled it from his pocket. Shit, this time it was Ax. He had to go.

  “I hate to cut you short, babe, but I’ve got to go. Can we finish this later?”

  “Sure.” He could tell she was pissed.

  He gave her a quick kiss. “I promise to make it up to you. I’ll call tomorrow, okay?” To his relief, the anger melted from her eyes. She followed him to the door, and he kissed her again before taking off.

  He didn’t call her the next day. In fact, he didn’t call her at all. He stopped in at Salvatore’s on Thursday night, hoping to catch a quick drink with her. They ended up fucking in the women’s bathroom before he got a call and had to go.

  Another week passed before he saw her again. Another week of shit that ended with his brother Sledge’s Ol’ lady getting jumped in a parking lot and him discovering that his Sgt. at Arms had some sick obsession with a chick from his past and had been lying to him about it for years.

  It was four in the morning when he rolled up to her house. He needed a refuge, a place to land for a few hours. A place that had nothing to do with the club or its fucking problems. Over the past month, Luciana had become that for him. He needed her. He needed to see her face, to hear her voice, to bury his cock inside her. He needed to forget about Steele and be Just Arlan for a few fucking moments.

  The door swung open on the third ring of the doorbell. “Arlan, are you okay?” The look of concern on her face turned him inside out. He didn’t respond. If he did, it would poison the moment. “Do you know what time it is? What are you doing here?” He took her hand and started down the hall. “Wait!” she called out, tugging on his hand.

  “Jesus, woman, does everything have to be a full-blown conversation with you? Can’t we just fuck?” His words hit, and she dropped his hand. Taking a step back, she crossed her arms defensively over her chest. Shit, he shouldn’t have said anything. He sure as hell shouldn’t have snapped at her. “Sorry, I’ve had a bad few weeks.”

  Her brows shot up. “Seriously? Can’t we just . . . fuck? Are we talking like last week when you walked into the restaurant and barely said two words to me, before following me to the bathroom, screwing me against the sink, and leaving me with my panties at my ankles? Because if that’s what you want, then no, we can’t just fuck.” Jesus, he didn’t need this shit right now. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my answer? Well, here’s what I don’t like. I don’t like that I’m falling for a man whose name I don’t even know. I don’t like that you want my body, but not me.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “And I sure as hell don’t like that you’ve had one foot out the door since you stepped through it.” She pointed at the door. “There it is, now go.”

  “Babe—
”

  “Please, go.”

  He didn’t know what to do, or better yet what to say. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to take back his harsh words, to start over again, but he could see it in her eyes. She was done.

  “If you ever need anything, call me.” He could tell she wasn’t listening. “Tell me you hear me, Luciana.”

  “I hear you,” she said through her tears.

  With his heart in his throat, he kissed the side of her head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, before walking out the door.

  Chapter Four

  Three months later. . .

  LULU WAS WORRIED. Tadeo hadn’t been in school all week. If it were any other student, she wouldn’t think much about it, but Tad was special. He was that rare gem, a straight-A student in all AP classes, a kid who was determined to succeed despite his socioeconomic circumstances. By her records, he couldn’t miss anymore school, or he would have to make up hours, and she knew the score on that. His mother wouldn’t pay for those hours. Marta was selfish to the core, and being that Tad was eighteen and considered an adult, she would pull him from school before letting the state take action. She didn’t care about his grades or that LuLu had paid for all seven of his college applications. Nor did she care that he would probably receive a free ride to the college of his choice. All she cared about was her next fix. With graduation only seven months away, LuLu was going to make damn sure that Tad made it to the finish line, even if it meant going to battle with Marta Peña to get him there.

  Her heels clicked against the linoleum as she made her way down the hall to the front office. She waved at several students along the way. Normally, she would stop and chat, but as her first session was in less than fifteen minutes, and it was urgent that she speak with Meg, she was pressed for time.

  LuLu’s life forever changed the day she discovered her dad had stage four cancer. She was fresh out of grad school and had just landed a counseling job at one of the most prestigious high schools in Dallas when she found out. She dropped everything—the great job, the fancy apartment, and the gorgeous boyfriend—to move back to Austin and take care of him. The doctors wanted to operate. If he made it through the surgery, they would follow up with intensive chemotherapy. He made it through, only to die from pneumonia less than a year later.