Ride Hard (Raven Riders #1)

by Laura Kaye

  What would it be like to give such blunt honesty in return? Goose bumps erupted over her warm skin the moment she decided to find out. “What if I don’t want you to stay away?”

  He looked away for a long moment, and Haven worried she’d said the wrong thing, but when he looked back, the battle playing out on his expression told her he’d liked what she’d said. A lot.

  “There’s a lake on the compound not too far from here,” he said, his voice like gravel, his gaze running over her body. Then his eyes returned to hers. “Any chance you’d like to go for a swim?”

  She grinned. “Really? That would be awesome.” She pushed up to sit on folded legs. “Oh, except I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  “You could wear what you have on,” he said, his gaze dragging over her again. “And take other clothes to change into.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that,” Haven said. “Let me just grab some things.” Up in her room, her gaze snagged on her notebook while she grabbed other clothes. Going skinny dipping was on her list, but no way she could do that in broad daylight with Dare. Could she? No. No, she wasn’t that brave. Not yet. Maybe never. She grabbed some clothes and a towel from the bathroom and met Dare out in front, where he was waiting for her on his bike.

  He stuffed her things in a compartment on the side of his bike and gave her a hand on. “Put this on,” he said, handing her a helmet.

  “Why don’t you wear one?” she asked as she slipped it on and put down the visor.

  He grinned over his shoulder. “I do on longer trips, but, you know, I like to flaunt the rules and live dangerously, too.”

  The words were innocent enough, but the echo of what she’d written in her notebook made her stomach flip-flop.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She wrapped her arms around his stomach and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes.”

  Haven hadn’t been sure she’d get to ride with Dare again, so being on the back of his bike made her almost giddy with happiness. They left the clubhouse heading in a different direction than they’d ridden the other day, and within a few minutes arrived at an appealingly rugged cabin nestled in the woods. Clouds blocked the sun, casting the house in shade, but it didn’t detract from the secluded peacefulness of the wooded lot.

  Dare eased the bike to a stop in the driveway and kicked out his boots to steady them. “Just need to grab some things,” he said, helping her off the bike. “Come on in.”

  “This is your place?” she asked, her eyes drinking in the almost picturesque setting, the rustic log façade, the separate garage that sat at the back of the lot.

  “Yeah,” he said, leading them up onto the small porch. He unlocked the door and gestured for her to go first.

  Haven wasn’t sure what to expect of the place where Dare lived. She so associated him with the clubhouse that she’d never imagined him in his own space. The interior was all warm, rough-hewn wood, limestone accents, and earth tones. It was masculine but inviting, even though there wasn’t a lot that personalized the space. “This is really nice,” she said. Much of the first floor was open, and her gaze went right to the kitchen. Drawn by the granite counters, she headed there, her hands smoothing over the cool surface.

  Turning, she found Dare watching her take in his place, and it brought heat to her cheeks.

  “Make yourself at home,” he said, pointing to the stairs. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  She nodded and watched him jog up the steps. And good God did he do all kinds of justice to a pair of jeans.

  With furniture situated around the big stone fireplace, the living room drew her in next. An overstuffed recliner sat next to the front window, an old fleece throw draped over the back. It looked like the kind of thing you could curl up in with a book or for a nap, and Haven couldn’t help but try it out.

  Sitting down, she reached for the reclining mechanism that had her laying back and stretching out. Despite the fact that it wasn’t much to look at, it was quite possibly the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat on in her life. She burrowed into the soft fabric and turned her body to peer out the window, the position giving her the most relaxing view of swaying trees and graying sky.

  God, why did she feel so comfortable here? And why couldn’t she have found this fundamental sense of rightness with someone she could keep—or who would keep her?

  The question made her think of her list, and that made her wonder if she’d find another man with whom she could imagine making all those experiences come true. What if she never found someone like Dare again? What if this—he—was her chance to really live?

  Lying there in his home, Haven had the wildest notion to grab onto Dare while she had him, even if she couldn’t keep him, even if she had to leave him behind.

  Maybe she could have him now. And it seemed to her that sometimes now was all that mattered.

  Footsteps sounded out from the staircase, drawing her from her thoughts.

  “You look comfortable,” Dare said, humor playing around his mouth. He carried a rolled-up bundle of clothing in his hand.

  “I am,” she said. “I don’t know if I’d ever leave this chair if I lived here.”

  That drew a real smile out of him as he crossed the room. Bracing his hands on both armrests, he leaned over her. “Would you rather stay here?” His dark brown gaze was intense and observing, making her feel like he could see inside her. Where once the thought of that scared her, now she almost wished he could see her darkest desires. Then he’d know, and maybe he’d act on them, too. It would save her from having to say all kinds of impossible words, wouldn’t it? Even if that was the chicken’s way out . . .

  Haven shook her head. No way was she giving up the chance to see more of Dare’s body. “Nope. I’m still happy to go.”

  Boxing her in, Dare leaned down and got right up in her space. “Whatever you want,” he said, his lips just inches from hers.

  I want you. Her brain taunted her to say it, to just put it out there and see how he’d react. To maybe even tell him she’d like him to help her make a whole list of to-dos come true before she had to go. While she knew she was safe and that he would treat her right. The thought made goose bumps spring up all over her skin.

  She tipped up her chin, offering her lips. “You sure about that?” she asked, the brazenness of the question nearly stealing her breath.

  “Oh, Haven,” he said, “you have no idea what I’d be willing to do for you if you wanted me to.”

  Her heart was suddenly flying, his words filled with so much seductive promise that Haven could barely believe she’d heard him right. She grappled for how to respond and wondered if this was her moment to just lay everything out there.

  “Do you want my confession now, or do you want to just hang for now and talk later?” he asked.

  The question threatened to ground her in reality, and she didn’t want that yet. She didn’t want problems or reasons why wanting Dare was a risk she shouldn’t—couldn’t—take. She still wanted the fantasy, the heady promise she felt when she was with him, the feeling that being with him was so right there was no way it could ever end. “Talk later,” she said.

  Dare nodded. “Then let’s ride.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Dare wasn’t sure what he was doing right now, only that he didn’t want to be doing anything else.

  Giving in to this attraction for Haven was probably going to make things even harder when it was time for her to leave—harder for both of them. But she didn’t seem to be resisting, either. In fact, her lack of resistance was fucking with his head—making him think, making him want, making him regret. Toss into the mix the sexual tension that always seemed to be crackling in the air between them, and Dare felt like he was holding on to the end of a rope that was fraying at the middle and sure to give way.

  With Haven wrapped tight around his back on his ride—something that felt more goddamned right than it should—Dare pulled out of his driveway and headed toward the lake. Luckily it was a warm afte
rnoon, because the sky had grown overcast while they’d been in the house. It was probably good that she still wanted to swim, though, because watching her make herself comfortable in his space did things to him he didn’t want to think too closely about.

  He’d liked seeing her there.

  Somehow, her presence had brought the house to life, had made it feel less solitary. Dare didn’t think that was because she was one of the few women he’d ever brought there—and the only one whom he had any personal interest in. It was something about Haven herself, and the way she made him feel.

  Fuck, you are so screwed. Dare pulled a right onto the road that headed out by Ike’s place and the lake. As he leaned into the turn, Haven’s arms tightened around him, and he reveled in the touch.

  “Faster?” he yelled over his shoulder.

  “Yes!” she shouted back, her arms tightening even more.

  His girl liked it fast, and he loved the hell out of that. Refusing to analyze the thought too closely, Dare twisted the throttle. They roared up the mountain road, freedom and wind rushing over their skin. He liked it fast, too. It was easier to forget your problems with your knees and fists in the breeze.

  By the time they reached the lake, the sky was spitting raindrops at them. Dare pulled into the dirt parking lot nearest the little beach everybody in the club used for swimming. He killed the engine and turned in his seat to face her. “What d’ya think about—”

  The question died in his throat.

  Because under the helmet’s clear visor, Haven wore the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen in his life.

  “God, I love riding,” she said. She lifted the helmet from her head, shaking out her new brown hair. The movement made him hard. “What do I think about what?” She grinned up at the sky as a few fat drops landed on her face.

  “The weather,” Dare said distractedly, just struck stupid by her declaration, her beauty, the knowledge that riding with him made her so damn happy.

  She shrugged, her expression entirely untroubled. “I’m gonna get wet anyway.”

  He swallowed around the desire stalking through his body. “Are you now?” he asked, purposely playing on the innuendo of her words when he knew she hadn’t meant anything by them. Just to see if she’d take the bait.

  Lips pressed together in a mischievous smirk, she looked him right in the eyes. “Sure hope so.”

  Game. Fucking. On.

  He took the helmet from her and hung it on a handlebar. Then he turned back to her and ran his fingers teasingly over her lips. Rain droplets came a little more frequently, not enough to be a shower, but enough to promise that one was on the way. “I do love you wet,” he said, his cock jerking in his jeans as her mouth dropped open and her tongue tentatively licked the tip of his middle finger.

  “Well, that’s good,” she said, the words breathy.

  He couldn’t fucking believe she was playing along with this. Damn if she hadn’t come a long way since they first met. It made him proud of her. It made him protective of her. It made him want to see how much braver she could be if she felt safe enough to really let herself go. “Why’s that?” he asked, leaning in and stroking his nose along the bridge of hers.

  Her head tilted back, offering her mouth up for a kiss. “Because . . . I’m . . .” She swallowed thickly. “. . . getting wet now.” She’d spoken the words so quietly that it was clear they’d been hard for her to admit, but she’d still found the courage to say them.

  And, man, hearing her admit that she was wet slayed him.

  “Fuck, Haven,” he said, his mouth coming down hard on hers.

  She moaned into the kiss, her hands grasping his neck, his hair. The kiss was immediately urgent, frenzied, and the arousal slingshotting through Dare’s body had his imagination running away with him. He pictured himself pulling her off the bike, shoving her jeans down, bending her over the seat . . .

  A long, low rumble of thunder, and the skies opened up for real.

  Haven gasped and flinched, pulling her lips away from the kiss. Her gaze flickered to the sky as all the playfulness bled from her expression. She tried to mask the anxiety the storm caused her, but it was crystal clear in her eyes when she looked at him again.

  He wanted nothing more in that moment than to make her feel safe.

  “Let’s save swimming for another day,” he said, stroking his fingers down her wet face. Even as it soaked her hair, the rain did nothing to detract from how fucking gorgeous she was.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He kissed her. “No need for that,” he said. “Now hold on tight.”

  Between the wet roads, the force of the downpour, and having a novice rider in his saddle, the ride home took a little longer than the way there. He regretted that only because every time it thundered, Haven flinched against him, her face burrowing against his shoulders, her embrace tightening around his chest. She’d done the same thing that night he’d found her asleep on the porch, and it made a place deep inside of him ache with satisfaction that she sought solace in his body—and it equally made him need to know what had caused her fear of storms in the first place.

  Home again, they ran up to the front porch, absolutely soaked to the bone. “Let me grab some towels,” Dare said, turning to her after he shut the door and flicked on the light. And that was when he noticed that her pale pink tank top had gone totally sheer in the rain, the white lace pattern on her bra completely visible through the fabric, and the dark pink of her erect nipples apparent, too. Jesus.

  “Okay,” she said, shivering.

  “Right.” He made for the second-floor full bath.

  Thunder crashed loud enough to make the windows rattle.

  Haven’s gasp reached him on the stairs, and he turned on a dime and went back to her. Taking her hand, he said, “Come on.”

  “I’ll drip water everywhere,” she said, following him despite the protest.

  He turned just before the bottom step. “You think I care about getting the floor wet over taking care of you?”

  Her eyes went wide. “I . . . I don’t . . .”

  Dare silenced her with a kiss, needing her to know, needing her to believe. “The answer’s no, Haven.” He led her upstairs to the bathroom that sat in the center of the hall between the house’s two bedrooms.

  “Wow,” she said, taking in the room. “This bathroom is amazing.”

  Dare handed her a towel from the corner linen closet and grabbed one for himself. He followed her gaze around the room, over the large all-glass stall shower, over the spa tub beneath the big picture window overlooking the woods, over all the marble, granite, and steel surfaces. When he’d built the place, he’d wanted to do the kitchen and bathroom right, even if he wasn’t sure he’d use all the bells and whistles.

  “Thanks,” Dare said, watching her run the towel over her face, her hair, her arms. She shivered again. “Let me find you some dry clothes.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking down at herself. “I brought extra clothes. Are they still out in the bike?”

  “Yeah,” Dare said, looking at the hard rain blurring his view of the trees out the window. “You can borrow something of mine, though. Save me from getting wet again.”

  When she nodded, he disappeared into his bedroom, debating what to give her. He settled quickly on an old, soft, black Harley T-shirt. Unsure what she’d be most comfortable in for bottoms, he took a pair of old blue sweatpants that would likely be miles too big on her and a pair of gray boxers. The thought of seeing her in any of this—any of his clothes—flooded all kinds of satisfaction through his blood. Because despite the myriad reasons why it wasn’t gonna happen, with every moment he spent with Haven an increasingly bigger part of him wanted to claim her for himself—in every and any way he could.

  Back in the bathroom, he found Haven sitting on the tub’s wide edge, staring out at the rain, the towel tight around her shoulders. “Hey,” he said.

  She whipped around and rose, like he’d caught her doing some
thing she shouldn’t. “Hey.”

  He wasn’t having that. Walking up to her, he held out the clothes, but he didn’t release them when she grabbed for them. “We might as well wait out the rain here, so make yourself at home, Haven. Sit where you want. Open doors and cabinets. Help yourself to anything I have. Got it?”

  A small smile. “Okay.”

  Finally, he let go of the clothing, but he didn’t back away—because he couldn’t back away. Arousal still surged through his blood from their flirtation at the lake, from her looking so fucking perfect in his space, from the way her soaked shirt revealed just a hint of the porcelain of her skin beneath.

  A low, drawn-out rumble of thunder, and Haven’s eyes widened, just a little.

  He cupped his hand around her neck and adored the way she leaned into the touch. “Tell me why you’re scared of storms,” Dare said, protectiveness rising up inside him. If he understood her fears, maybe he could help her battle them. For however long they had together.

  Haven’s eyes skittered away from his, and her cheeks paled. “I used to love them,” she said, her voice going distant. “The raw power and sound of them. But when I was fifteen, I had my first serious boyfriend. His name was Zach, and he . . . he was my first,” she said quietly, “and only.”

  Something deep inside Dare disliked hearing about another man having known her in ways Dare didn’t, but the admission that she hadn’t been with anyone since sucker-punched him with such raw sadness for her that it outweighed the jealousy that threatened.

  “I don’t know how, but my father found us together”—she made a face that made it clear exactly what kind of together that’d been—“and he . . . he was furious. Said I’d ruined myself, and that if I wanted to act like a b-bitch in heat, he’d treat me like one.” Her shoulders curled in as her chin dropped, and it reminded Dare so much of the way she’d acted during their first conversation that it just about broke his fucking heart—and made him want to rage.

  His hand slid up to cup her cheek, his thumb lazily stroking the soft skin under her eye. “You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to.”