We Belong: MC Romance (Rattler Romance Book 1)

by Evie Bennet

  “Oh really? I think I feel some inspiration coming on right now.” He grinned, tilting his face until it fit against mine. We kissed languidly, teasingly, enough that I almost wanted to put off the whole ‘figuring things out’ bit until after our bodies were buzzing with the pleasure of fingers and mouths.

  I pulled back just enough to rest my head on his shoulder. “Is there any potentially creepy behavior you’d like to share with me? Or knowledge of such behavior in myself? I feel like we need to even the playing field or look through old photo albums so I can get a play-by-play of your life.”

  “Mom took most of them when she took Michelle.” The planes of his face were so strangely elegant that it was hard to imagine anyone leaving him.

  “Michelle?”

  “My sister.” He cleared his throat in a way that made me wonder if the snapshot by the Spotlight was the only photo of her he had left. “She’s younger. Um, most likely Mom tossed a lot of the albums, but I’ll ask. Might be something that you’ll find cute.”

  “Anything else you want to share?”

  His hand snaked around my waist, tilting our bodies horizontal. “Nothing that would particularly inspire you to keep kissing me.”

  “I doubt anything you share would make me want to stop.”

  Rocking his neck back in a sigh, Reed shifted above me. “Is this position okay?”

  “Move off to the side a little.”

  “Are we gonna talk about that, too?”

  No, I recoiled.

  My throat filled with liquid. The urge to spit or swallow it bubbled up in my chest. It was probably bile. I could choke on that spit like I always had.

  Quickly shifting to the side, Reed stroked my loose hair from my forehead. “Hey, I just want to make sure I take care of you. Figuring this stuff out is part of it. You can talk to me about anything. You know that, Betty? Anything.”

  He’d still love me. I would still love him. It was okay. It was something that happened.

  I swallowed against the rising tide of emotion within me. “We will talk about that sometime, but right now we’re talking about you. What is it that you’re nervous about?”

  His mouth twitched in a frown. “Are you sure you want to know everything about me? Because not everything is good.”

  I nodded. “I said I wanted all of you, Reedsy, and I meant it.”

  Licking his lips, Reed seemed to study me with more attention than usual, like he was memorizing me for later. Finally, after a few moments, he stroked my face and admitted, “The Rattlers. We’re not just a motorcycle club.” I made a strangled, chortling noise. Reed quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, you knew that, huh?”

  I plucked at the scooped neck of his undershirt for a distraction, for the comfort of cotton and his skin. “Educated guess.”

  “Okay, well, I do things for them. Not exactly things I’d want someone I’m in love with to know about.”

  “Like what?”

  He studied my face, still hesitant.

  “What, Reed?”

  “I’m the Rattler’s Judge.”

  I bit down a nervous laugh, molars digging into my tongue.

  Like a TV show? Judge Reed?

  “That basically means if anyone in our ‘club’ gets out of line, I have to deal with it.”

  A vague muscle ache started in my forehead. His fingers lightly danced along my skin as if he knew, as if he could sneak under my veins and untangle all my knots.

  “Which means I’ve had to be investigator, judge, jury, and…”

  Executioner, my mind filled in.

  My smile vanished. He was almost terrifyingly focused on my gaze, reading me. Maybe he was waiting for me to scream and fall apart and push him away—or maybe I was supposed to kiss and fuck him like some crazed fangirl. But I couldn’t muster any of those reactions because they weren’t right.

  “You’re not a murderer, Reed.”

  “No.” His throat bobbed. “But it’s probably not much better.”

  I didn’t pry. We needed to let it sit for a minute.

  He hurt people. But not like I’d been hurt, right? No, that wasn’t even possible. He was probably more like the Rattler Police.

  My fingers migrated to other parts of him, twisting his thick hair to test his roots, tracing his jaw for any sign of scars, examining his fingernails for the crusts I’d seen below my own, and even exploring the vertical lines on his undershirt for some kind of pattern. He took a deep breath and I looked up, prepared for him to elaborate.

  “It can be violent, involve switchblades or regular bare-fisted fighting. Most times we don’t have to do anything, just a run or investigation. Supplies. Books. Check up on people. Make sure things are going the way they’re supposed to, I guess.”

  “Sounds messy. Stressful.” My mind half-wandered like a tethered balloon, dancing across visions of blood welling up, of skin slicing to the floor like an orange peel.

  He’d probably have to hold them down.

  My stomach lurched.

  “Betty?”

  “Hold on.”

  Slaps recoiled against the cold floor as I skidded to a stop in front of the toilet. My knees fell to the bathroom tiles hard enough to hurt and I emptied the contents of my stomach with a violent heave that took part of me with it.

  “Jesus, Betty, I’m sorry,” I heard beyond the dull thrumming between my ears. “I knew I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry. I can go, but I-I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “No. No, stay.” Spitting, I wiped my mouth just in time to feel him start to rub my back. Worry lingered in his expression. “I love you. I’m just—the skin…and blood.” I looked away, trying not to imagine it. My fingers curled around his leg, grounding me. “I wasn't expecting it.”

  “No. Why would you?” He sounded bitter and remorseful, of all things.

  We sat quietly for a minute, my shoulder leaning against his chest while he rubbed slow circles into my back.

  “You never… have you done anything like that to a woman?”

  His lips thinned and he nodded. Swallowing against an upchuck, I shuddered into myself.

  If I didn’t do what he wanted, he could hurt me, too.

  No, he wouldn’t. That was a Rattler thing.

  He was a Rattler. The Rattler Law. The Rattler Judge.

  But he was Reed, too. He’d already gathered all the evidence and decided that he loved me.

  He had every chance to and he hadn’t hurt me.

  He was a good person. He loved me. I loved him.

  Agitated, he pushed his hair from his forehead and tugged. I watched the gesture with lost fascination because I tugged my hair, too. “I’m… I guess I’m kind of a bad person. I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to describe what I do, to reconcile what gets done. Once I’ve investigated, once I’m sure, we vote and follow the Rattler code. Sometimes it isn’t black and white. There are a lot of people we let live, people who hurt us, who hate us, and I keep waiting for them to come back and try to wreak their revenge. That’s why I kept looking for them and for my mess of a dad to finally sober up. Until one day, I just kept looking for you.”

  I raised my chin, eyes glossy with tears, trembling in his arms. He was so quiet and gentle that it was impossible to think of him as anything but the amazing man I knew and loved.

  He stalled as if there were a million more things he wanted to say and not enough room or words to say them.

  I needed him to tell me he was just bad like me and we could get through this.

  I knew we could get through this.

  “I’ve never had a reason to look for something good in my life, Betts. Not until you came in with your Pat Benatar and cotton swabs. The messages on my screen. I asked the woman at the café if she’d seen anything and she smiled and said something about a pretty girl asking about me earlier. At first, I didn’t even… I could barely even entertain the idea it was you. I wanted it to be, but I didn’t... I don’t deserve you. If it’d been someone from my past, th
ey would’ve messed with my work or taken my laptop. Destroyed it. But you didn’t. You encouraged me. You helped me. And then you were everywhere, like some guardian angel in the cereal aisle, and I had to– I don’t know, I had to push further, see if what I thought was happening was even close to reality. All I see when I’m with you is strength. Adoration. Acceptance. Pride. Please tell me you still see that in me. That you still see something other than what I am.”

  Then I remembered what Frank had told me. “See someone for who they are, not for what they could be.”

  Swallowing whatever harshness was building up in my throat, I caressed Reed’s cheek until we were drawn to looking into each other’s eyes. My thumb smoothed his quivering frown. I could do this. His mouth and eyes reflected all the fear inside of him.

  That fear was about us.

  “I love you for everything you are.”

  Despite everything, we embraced, my face tucked against his shoulder while we pressed so tightly together that nothing else could come between us.

  The warmth of his mouth against my skin made me shiver, tempted to press my own lips against him. We weaved closer together until I was nearly in his lap, able to hear his pulse steadily against my ear.

  “Betty Miller, will you marry me?”

  For a moment, that short-circuited everything. Earlier that day he’d said he loved me. And then… then everything. He offered me forever and asked for devotion everlasting.

  I giggled and nestled my face against his warmth, nodding.

  We huddled on the bathroom floor, crying and laughing, and I wasn’t sure if it was in relief or joy or both because I was completely overwhelmed. Reciprocal kisses trailed across our cheeks, pausing when we got to lips. I did just throw up, so I expected a peck on the nose. And that was okay. Because I loved him. All of him. He loved all of me. With a wide smile, Reed leaned forward and kissed me squarely on the mouth. Scrambling to bury my flaming face, I locked my legs around his waist.

  “Reedsy.” My protest was muffled, even as he tickled my sides in an attempt to lure me back out again.

  “I want to see my fianceé,” he teased, kissing my forehead.

  Moaning, I shoved my body against him harder. He laughed, hands settling somewhere on my waist. It wasn’t fair. I loved him so much and I wanted to celebrate right.

  I used his shoulders for leverage to stand up, cognizant of the way I brushed my breasts against his face. The way his eyes glazed over reminded me that I could have him like this forever.

  Twisting on the faucet, I quickly scraped together some toothpaste and started to brush, amazed that Reed was still curled around my leg instead of standing and groping me from behind.

  “Can I have you?” His voice came out gruff.

  “Yes, Reedsy, you can have me,” I said through a mouthful of toothpaste, spitting and rinsing before having another go just to make sure I’d be minty fresh.

  Reed dug into his pocket, procuring his cell phone and setting it on the sink beside me.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think we should capture another moment,” he said, fingers gently trailing up the inside of my thigh.

  He wanted to see us and capture this love.

  “Can you put it–” I gasped as he rubbed his thumb against the seam of my shorts. “On the... on the soap dispenser,” I gestured.

  “I trust you. Put it wherever you want it,” he murmured, his lips skimming the backs of my knees. The surprising sensuality of the spot nearly made my legs buckle.

  Spitting and rinsing one last time, I moved the phone to where I thought it’d be a good, flattering angle. I felt him rise behind me, hands wandering across my breasts, gripping me through my tank top.

  A slap on my ass sent me flying forward to brace myself against the counter. “Reed.” I gasped, pushing back into him. I needed relief. To be filled with him.

  He nipped at my ear, leaving a wet trail behind with his tongue. “You wanted to be in here with me that first night, didn’t you? We just weren’t ready.” His breath sent a shock of heat against the saliva trail. Goosebumps rippled across my flesh to the point I almost wanted to rip my skin off and wrap it around him.

  “Yes. We’re so ready. Please.”

  “You said you recorded the sounds I made while I came thinking of your pretty face looking up at me. What kind of sounds should we add to our symphony?”

  He really did understand me.

  Relieved, I held his hand against my chest. “We belong together, Reedsy.”

  With a grunt of affirmation muffled only by sinking his teeth into my shoulder, Reed tightened his grip. “Yes. What happened when I got out of the bathroom, Betty?” He kissed my neck and moved forward, reminding me of the heat of his chest pressed against my back that first night we spent together in person.

  “You took care of me. You stayed with me.” I turned to nuzzle against his cheek.

  “Mmm hmm. We took a picture in the morning. We look good now, too, don’t we?”

  He smirked at our reflection in the mirror. My eyes widened as I realized we could watch each other the whole time. We could play it back later.

  What a sexy, brilliant man.

  He palmed my breast, squeezing and rolling the flesh through my thin tank top until my nipples hardened against his fingertips. “When I was in here that first night I slept over, I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do with you.”

  “What did you want to do?”

  His eyes flashed. “Everything.”

  Love was everything. It could be. We could be.

  The kisses on my neck and the heaviness of my breasts made me needy. “Show me.”

  His hips rolled into me hard enough that his pajama-bottom covered length slid right between my legs. I needed him. The constant friction combined with the visual of us in the reflection of the mirror drove me absolutely wild. I could watch him: dark eyes and a focused, heated expression. He bit and sucked my collarbone like he was going to eat me up.

  “Make yourself nice and tight for me.”

  Groaning, I repositioned my thighs to squeeze him more fully until I could feel the ridge of his head catch from the pressure.

  I kept getting distracted by the way he watched me, too. My own reflection was beautiful and wild: lips parted, breath fogging the mirror, eyes glassy with want and adoration.

  “I love you,” I said to his reflection, so powerful and passionate.

  He pulled my hair hard enough to splash color behind my eyelids. “Stay with me.”

  “Yes.” He thrust against my core, pinching my nipple. “Yes!”

  Slowing down, he kissed my shoulder and watched me carefully. He loved looking at me. He loved me. Desperate tears lined my lashes as love and desire spread a flushed stain across my chest. “You still good, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want me to keep going?”

  “I do.”

  Biting my neck like it was the only mark we needed, Reed slipped his hands under my clothes. One skimmed the round, pebbled peak of my breast. The other snaked down to my waiting wetness.

  “Reed,” I moaned, head falling forward as I tumbled towards wanton need.

  His mouth pressed into my neck, heat surging through my veins. “Don’t you want to look? Don’t you want to see how fucking sexy you are?” I shifted, anxious and eager, barely able to drag my eyes off him because he was right behind me, hair tousled, eyes blazing.

  He wanted me to see what he did.

  The image of us wrapped around each other seemed ethereal. I was fairly wrecked already, but there was a passionate glow under my skin and my eyes shifted in color up close, like pulsing, fractured raindrops reflecting a forest of vibrant leaves. We were beautiful together. Complementary and vibrant with electricity that spiked from my blood to his. Shuddering, I fell forward, not sure if I was even seeing anymore or just pulsing.

  “You’re such a good girl, coming around my fingers for me. I could watch you all day and never tire
of that fucking perfect look on your face. A lifetime, Betty.”

  The world devolved into bubbling passion, swears and encouragement pouring over us until everything started to fade away in anticipation of our continuous loving pleasure. We kissed over my shoulder, wet and sloppy and barely hanging on. I was so close, and he was with me, and it was all I could do to stay standing.

  One of Reed’s hands moved from my breast to the side of my neck, clenching before gently tilting my face upwards to lock eyes with him in the reflection. And there it was. The prism of color. Of everything a song should be. Shaking, I leaned back into his strong, lean arms, scratching his back in the effort to bring him with me.

  “I love you.”

  He sweetly kissed my neck. “I know. I love you, too.”

  Even though I was drifting down, I couldn’t stop kissing him. I was hungry, needy, lifting my arms over my head so he could swipe the flimsy material off of me. As soon as his arms went up, I returned the favor to help reveal his beautiful, bare skin.

  “Fuck me. I need all of you.”

  “You sure?” He panted, hair askew, chest scratched and panting.

  “Yes. I need all of you.” Taking my time, I leaned in close for a deep, salacious kiss. “I do.”

  Melting just a little, Reed slammed our bodies together against the vanity. It was a tangle and dance of getting rid of pants, of being hoisted up onto the counter and aligned until he filled me with the length of his heat, my soul and heart bursting at the seams.

  “God, fuck me, yes.” I moaned, digging my heels into his tailbone.

  The pressure felt so good, permeated and filled with him. Even if it was tight, we fit.

  “You okay?” he asked gruffly against my skin.

  “Yes.” Breathless, practically floating, I slid my fingers into the downy hair at the base of his neck. “I want you.”

  To my surprise, Reed’s eyes watered. Before I could kiss away the tremble of his lip, he slammed back into me, the impact shocking my senses and forcing me to hold on for dear life.