Hard Rider (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance)

by Wild, Nikki

  But I like being alone. I like not relying on anyone but me. It’s better that way. Safer.

  “You’re trying to be good to me, Gunner,” I whispered. “But I can’t take it. It’s too much for me.”

  He reached over then, drawing a strand of my hair behind my ear. I shook my head but he slipped his fingers around the back of it, bringing my skull against his.

  “I need to make it up to you,” he said. “Not just want, Tanya. Need. I’ve been running from this for so long. Throwing up whatever hurdles I could just to numb the pain. So I wouldn’t have to think about you, and what I’d done. You think I’m doing you a favor, but really, I’m being as selfish as ever. I need you to be here so I can forgive myself. So I can say I’m nothing like...”

  Gunner trailed off, but I knew exactly who he meant. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “Your father.”

  He nodded, fingers wrapped tight around the beer bottle in his hand. His knuckles were white. Slowly, he set it down on his coffee table. “My old man.”

  “So don’t,” I said. “Don’t be like him. Start over. Be better. Try.”

  “Don’t you get it, baby?” Gunner asked, replacing his grip on the bottle with a grip on the nape of my neck. “I am trying to start over. With you.”

  There was so much darkness inside me. So much pain and hate. So much rage. Too much for just one person to handle. And in Gunner’s eyes, I saw that reflected back at me. We were both carrying a load that was too heavy for either of us to bear. But how was I supposed to forget everything that had happened? I’d been holding onto this anger for so long I wasn’t sure I knew how to let go.

  I was about to pull away and tell him as much when the parting of his lips caught my eye. They looked so soft. So... enticing. His gaze was on my lips, as well, searching their slopes and curves, memorizing every inch. I wet them with my tongue.

  The way he dragged his teeth over his lower lip when he did that sent a surge of adrenaline right into my belly. I breathed in deep through my nose, inhaling the heavy scent of Gunner’s beer, and something else, too.

  I’d kissed men before. I’d touched them. I’d let them touch me. Just because I hadn’t gone all the way didn’t mean I hadn’t done some things.

  So I knew what lust smelled like—hot, hard, masculine lust. I knew the fragrance of a man’s desire. It was heady. Intoxicating. Even if he was my stepbrother.

  I started to say something. I’m not sure what. It was a reflex, you know? Like when a silence gets awkward, or when you know something’s about to happen, but waiting to find out is just... murder.

  When Gunner kissed me, that was what it felt like: murder. Like he was killing everything bad that was inside me. His mouth flooded my body with a heat I’d never felt. Not even when I’d been dying in the fire he’d pulled me out of.

  Safe and sound. That was how I’d felt then, and how I’d felt now. I closed my eyes and let myself, for just a second, feel like I was home again. Like I was where I belonged.

  I kissed my stepbrother back. Sweetly. Passionately.

  And then jumped away from him at the sound of breaking glass and Jax’s bark.

  Gunner was already up and at the door. “What the fuck?”

  I followed after him, my lips still numb from our kiss. My heart was hammering a million miles a minute and the world seemed to spin. What were we thinking? What had we just done?

  What had I just done?

  And then my gaze settled on his Mustang. His pride and joy. Specifically, the busted-in back window.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered. Jax was at Gunner’s side, ears pricked, tail out straight, staring at the dark road. Gunner was reaching in through the glass and cussing up a storm as he pulled out a piece of paper lying beneath a brick—the brick that someone had put through his baby.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, his wild eyes darting over the text. I could see it even from the stoop. Someone had scrawled all over the other side of that paper, big and in Sharpie. Gunner looked up at him, his face pale. “Tanya, do you know anything about this?”

  I walked over to him as if in a dream, my legs quaking all the way. Once I reached him, Gunner pushed the note into my hands. My fingers trembled as I read it.

  “THERE IS A SMILE OF LOVE

  AND THERE IS A SMILE OF DECEIT”

  BUT MY SMILE IS DIFFERENT

  MY SMILE IS A KNOWING ONE

  I KNOW WHAT YOU DID

  AND I WILL DO MUCH WORSE

  “Tanya?” my stepbrother prompted. But I couldn’t speak. I was too busy looking at the brick in his hand. At the black scorch marks up and down its sides.

  That brick that had almost certainly come from my apartment building—the one that had just burned to the ground.

  Chapter 9

  Gunner

  “You have any angry ex-boyfriends I should know about?” I asked, setting the brick down on the kitchen counter. I felt like I could have crushed the damn thing into dust with how tightly my fist was clenched around it.

  “No, I don’t have any exes,” she said, her eyes locked on the dirty red thing occupying my counter space. “None that’re this... crazy.”

  “Then what the fuck is going on, Tanya?” I asked, breathing hard through my nose. I knew I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out on her—none of this was her fault—but the fact that someone had smashed up my damn car—had seen what we’d done—what I’d done with Tanya...

  My stepsister turned her gaze away from me, looking off toward the window. Her weight shifted from foot to foot as she bit down on her lip.

  I frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “A while back,” she began, looking back into my eyes with a pained expression on her face, “there was this guy who came into the club.”

  “Okay,” I said, biting back a comment about how this was exactly why she should never have started working as a damn stripper in the first place. “What happened?”

  “He paid for a lap dance in the champagne room. I thought everything was on the level—he paid cash and had asked for me specifically, which isn’t unusual—until I walked into the room.” Tanya paused, closing her eyes tight for a moment before forcing herself to continue. “He was wearing this weird drama mask—the tragedy one, with the sad face and shit.

  “It was weird, but I figured it was some kind of kink or something, and as long as he didn’t get freaky I’d do the dance and get the fuck out of there. But that’s not what happened. He started talking, and he had one of those fucking voice machines, that make you sound like that damn puppet from Saw. He was telling me about how his mother had been a whore, and how he’d stuffed her panties in her mouth and killed her. Then he asked how I’d sound when I was choking—if I’d sound just like his mother did.”

  I watched Tanya’s eyes well up with tears, her chest heaving as her words turned to sobs.

  “I told him not to fucking touch me, but he started choking me. I screamed, and one of the bouncers came in and pulled him off and threw him out of the club. God, I was so fucking scared. I hadn’t done a private show since then—not until you showed up.”

  I watched her for a long moment, my thoughts churning in my head like a brewing storm at sea. The thought of someone almost killing my baby sister making my blood boil in my veins as I imagined that fucking psycho hurting her.

  “You think that it’s the same guy?” I asked, glancing out at my car through the kitchen window. Would any of this have happened if Tanya had never given me that dance? If I’d never made her?

  “I don’t know who else it could be, Gunner,” she said, her voice faint and breathy as she brought herself back under control. “I don’t have any other enemies, none that would throw a fuckin’ brick at your car. I mean, Jesus—this is some Lifetime-special bullshit.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face, resting my elbows on the kitchen counter. I’d done something horrible to my own stepsister, let her grind on me like that—I could have stopped her. The more
I thought about it, the more the images of her ass rubbing against my groin filled my mind. My heart started to race and I could feel my cock stirring in my pants again.

  For Christ’s sakes. Not now.

  “We’re going to lock all the doors,” I said, my face in my hands as I tried to muster the nerve to look at her without giving in to all the shameful thoughts crossing through my mind. I could only imagine what it would be like to bend her over the couch and take her as she worked her hips back against me. “And Jax’s dumb ass can stay with you tonight.”

  I looked over at the lazy mound of fur laying sprawled out on the couch and shook my head. Jax was a good dog, but probably the worst when it came to actually protecting the damn house. Sure, he barked at everything that came within a football field of the door, but the moment you got inside he was all tail-wags and kisses. What a sorry excuse for a Belgian Malinois. I almost wanted my money back for the fortune I’d paid for him.

  But then I’d look into his stupid, brown eyes and he’d give me that doggy smile, and I’d forget all about the money and his utter incompetence and stuff him full of treats. Yeah, I had a soft side. Women and dogs—what guy can resist ‘em?

  “But what about when you’re not home?” Tanya asked, patting her leg and whistling for Jax to come over.

  “He doesn’t come when you call—” I began, but stopped as I watched my dog excitedly get up from the couch and trot over to my sister’s side. “You’re the worst dog ever.”

  I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose before answering her question. “I don’t know. We’ll figure that out tomorrow, I suppose. In the meantime you and I need to get ready for bed. I have to be out early to go to work.”

  “How long are you going to be gone, though?” she asked, bent over as she scratched behind Jax’s ears. I could see straight down her blouse.

  “Until the next day,” I said, trying hard to turn my eyes away. I could feel my cock hardening as more unclean thoughts filled my head. “We have twenty-four-hour shifts, then have the next two days off.”

  “All right,” Tanya said, taking a deep breath and letting it out in the sigh. “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone, though?”

  “I’ll give you my card before I leave, I guess, and you can go do some shopping or something.” I was desperate to be out of the same room as her, I’d have told her she could empty my damn bank account if it meant that I could escape from the unbearable temptation of her gorgeous body.

  “If that’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me,” she said, and I couldn’t help but notice a bit of a smile returning to her face. Maybe some times shopping was just what she needed to get her mind off of what happened that night. “Goodnight, Gun.”

  “Goodnight, baby,” I said, watching her walk to the spare room and shut the door, Jax in tow. Despite being a terrible guard dog, I felt a little safer knowing he’d be at her side for the night. But I wished it could be me.

  I went into my room and shut the door, turning the lock before heaving a sigh of relief. My pants were tight from my still-present erection, straining to be free of its denim prison. I had to find an outlet for this frustration—the thoughts of Tanya’s lap dance still fresh in my mind.

  I had to find some way to get the memory of her body against mine out of my head, the sensation of her pussy sliding up and down my shaft, and especially the way she’d argued with me. Fuck, that filthy mouth was so. Damn. Hot.

  I pulled off my shirt, tossing it aside before undoing my pants. I sighed in relief as I freed myself from the constraints of my clothes, my cock rock hard in the open air of my bedroom. It was begging to be appeased, to feel the relief that it so eagerly craved. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d actually jacked myself off—normally I could always pick up a girl at the bar, with just the mention of being a fireman I could get a woman wet and ready to go. What I wouldn’t give for someone to make me forget about the way my stepsister made me feel—but what kind of brother would I be if I just left her to get score some piece of ass?

  I sighed, lying down on my bed as I took my cock in my hand and closed my eyes. It throbbed in my hand, my thick girth swelling as I began to work my way up the shaft them all the way back down.

  I tried to conjure thoughts of some of the women I’d slept with before, recalling all the ways I’d driven my cock into them while they screamed for more. I loved making women beg to be plowed by their big, strong fireman. It made me feel special. Needed. The big damn hero.

  Fuck. There was Tanya’s voice in my head again. Quit it. Think of someone else. Anyone else.

  I worked my shaft slowly at first, relaxing into the sensation that rippled out from the base of my dick. I saw myself slipping my dick inside of a hot little redhead I’d bagged a few weeks ago, her arms tied above her head—just the way she liked it. I reveled in the memory of my shaft buried in her cunt, pounding into her again and again as she squirmed against her restraints.

  But the longer I let my mind replay that glorious conquest, the further I felt from cumming. I quickened my pace, working my cock faster as I tried remembering another one of my previous sexual partners.

  I saw a tight little blonde I’d met at a club only a month before. She was so petite and perfectly proportioned, and had practically jumped on my dick the moment I mentioned what I did for a living. I remembered the way she bounced up and down on me, riding my prick like she was a cowgirl at the rodeo. But still, my release stubbornly eluded me.

  In my mind’s eye, I watched myself bend that pretty blonde over against her headboard, but something changed. Instead of the barely-legal fox I’d fucked that night, I saw the one woman I was trying not to think about.

  My hot, annoying, dirty-mouthed, stripper stepsister.

  I watched as my mind conjured Tanya in the other girl’s place, my dick sheathed within her warm, wet pussy. I imagined the way she would call my name as I fucked her the way I knew that only I could, the pleasure that only I could give her. My hand worked harder and harder at my shaft as I gave in to the disgraceful fantasy that I’d been dying to fulfill from the moment I saw her coming out of the shower.

  I could feel my orgasm building, my hips growing tighter and tighter the faster I stroked myself. I gasped, opening my eyes halfway, picturing my sweet stepsister writhing on my cock and moaning my name as she teased at her clit. It felt so good, touching myself to the thought of Tanya fucking me, ready to feel my hot load gushing into her cunt.

  I threw my head back, my hips bucking against my hand as I felt the sudden and unexpected rush of my climax washing over my. My cock pulsed hard, a gush of my warm, sticky cum exploding from the tip. With every twinge of my throbbing member, another gout poured over my hand, leaving me breathless and sweating. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cum so much. Or this hard.

  My mind whirled in the heady twilight that settled over me, where the only thing that stirred around me was the sound of my own breathing. I felt like I was lying on a cloud, weightless and free of all my woes.

  But then I felt the shame.

  I’d just cum thinking about my own stepsister. What kind of person does that? I sighed, rubbing my clean hand over my face as I let the horror of my own depravity sink in.

  You pulled her out of the frying pan, Gunner. But now she’s stuck in this fire. Here. With you.

  And I was starting to think that was way more dangerous than any three-alarm fire could be. If Tanya stuck around, if we kept playing games like this, one of us was going to get burned.

  Chapter 10

  Tanya

  A grease bubble burst, nearly catching me in the face. I yelped, then immediately clamped my hand over my mouth. Shit. I hope I didn’t wake Gunner up.

  I was up at the ass-crack of dawn, cooking breakfast for my stepbrother—something I never did. The cooking part, I mean. I was a master chef only in the realm of microwaveable meals and flavor packets. But Gunner had bacon and eggs in his fridge, and I figured how the hell could tha
t possibly go wrong?

  The kitchen hadn’t burst into flames yet, so I guessed that was a pretty good sign. I just hadn’t expected bacon to be so damn... volatile. Made me wonder how Mom could stand it.

  Shit... Mom.

  Mom had been the breakfast champion since as far back as I could remember. She insisted we all eat something every morning, even if it was just a slice of toast. It was hardly ever just that, though. She’d whip up omelets, sausage, breakfast burritos from scratch, French toast—you name it, my mom could make it.

  But then she’d died, and I hadn’t had a homemade breakfast since.

  And the more I thought about that, I realized: neither had Gunner.

  So, I thought I’d do something nice. Take some steps in the right direction. He was trying to mend fences between us. No reason why I couldn’t pitch in. I just hoped I wouldn’t give myself another second-degree burn in the process.

  Though if I did, Gunner might have to save me again...

  No. I needed to stop that. I needed to stop thinking about my stepbrother in... the wrong way.

  That was just it, though. When I thought about Gunner, about our kiss, none of it felt wrong. It felt... destined. Right. Like when he touched me, I was right where I was supposed to be.

  I sighed, closed my eyes, and clenched my spatula so hard I was sure it would snap. He’s your family. The only one you’ve got. Stop making this weird, Tanya.

  But Gunner had kissed me. That meant the feelings were mutual. Right?

  “What’s this?” I heard him ask from behind me.