Hard Rider (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance)

by Wild, Nikki

  “Don’t fight it,” he muttered against my ear. I answered with a gasp and he dipped his thumb down near his cock, gathering more of my lust to smear across my clit. “Just let go, baby. Let go for me. It’ll be all right.”

  I knew it would be. And yet some part of me was scared. Scared that if I let down my guard, my stepbrother would hurt me again. Abandon me. I couldn’t bear to watch him walk away again.

  As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, Gunner groaned into my neck, “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, Tanya. Just let go. Cum for me, my sweet, beautiful...”

  I couldn’t fight it anymore. Couldn’t fight him anymore. It was all too good. Too perfect. Too much.

  With a shuddering breath that swelled into a cry, I ceded control to my stepbrother—to the one man I told myself I’d never let get close to me again.

  And then I came around his cock, a flood of rapture that spread through my every limb, igniting my soul.

  I burned for Gunner. I flat-out immolated. I clawed and bit, kicked and flailed, sang his praises at the tops of my lungs. Through it all he held me still, humming a low chuckle in my ear, one that spurred my pleasure all the more with the vibration of his dulcet tones.

  “That’s my girl.”

  He drove me wild. Insane. Pushed me to the brink of beautiful despair and then made me surrender. I was nothing and everything all at once. I was a goddess beneath him, ruler of ecstasy, worshipped by his lips, his tongue, his fingers, his arms...

  “I need to let go, too,” Gunner told me, exhaling a sweltering breath again my hair. I felt the tide of his dick swell up inside me, the dam that held back the pinnacle of his desire threatening to burst. “God, you’re so perfect. I can’t...”

  “Cum with me,” I begged him. “Please, Gunner. Cum...”

  For the first time in his life, the sweet bastard obeyed me.

  Gunner pressed his forehead to mine, crying out as his orgasm overtook him. I felt that shudder run from his toes up his spine, finally culminating in his shoulders and biceps. He squeezed me tightly and dropped his face to my chest, eyes shut tight, burying himself inside of me until there was nothing left for him to give. I felt those hot torrents of his desire stream into me, filling me to the brim with his essence—his soul.

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. Neither of us could. We just wrapped around each other, naked and wet, and floated into oblivion—together.

  Chapter 15

  Gunner

  I sat up in bed I’d made love to my stepsister in, watching her curl up against me in the soft, cotton sheets. I couldn’t remember ever being so satisfied after having sex—not with anyone before her.

  That thought weighed on me as I sat there in the quiet of the late evening, the lights dimmed down throughout our entire suite. Everything seemed so calm, so peaceful, even though I felt like something should feel utterly wrong after what I’d just done. I felt like someone should have burst through the door and pointed an accusing finger at me, declaring my shame—but there was nothing. Everything seemed right with the world.

  I watched the lines of her body shift as she squirmed underneath the sheets. I felt her hand brush over my hip ever so softly before she turned over, facing away.

  I never would have thought for a moment back when we were younger that we’d end up here, sharing a bed together, making love. There were times back in those days where I wished she’d just disappear. But no, I’d been the one who disappeared—leaving her all alone with that monster of a father. My father.

  I breathed a sigh, eyes closed as I thought about what we had done. I hadn’t used a condom. I’d taken her virginity and I’d done so much more… I turned in place, opening my eyes and staring at her beautiful figure. She was so calm… I hoped she was dreaming of comforting things.

  Shit, I thought with a little, self-indulgent smile, maybe she’s dreaming of me.

  I’d run away once, and now she was the only family I had left—the only person in my life I could say that I held any love for in all the world. She wasn’t some booty call or bar girl. Tanya was the only one who would be worth protecting—and I knew that I had to keep her safe, no matter what it took.

  “No one’s going to hurt you, Tanya,” I whispered as I lay back down beside her. I stroked her hair away from her face and she gave a little grumble, but leaned into my palm. “I’m going to make sure that bastard doesn’t ever hurt you again. I promise.”

  I wanted to say one more thing. I wanted to say I love you. I’d said it before. Just not like this.

  When it came to things like this, I’d never said it to anyone. How in the hell could I find it in me to start now?

  Chapter 16

  Tanya

  “I’m sorry, baby. I gotta go.”

  Sleep was still in my eyes when Gunner woke me, and my whole body was sore. Not sore in a bad way. Just aching all over. And I had sex hair. I smiled sleepily at that.

  Shit. Last night, I fucked my stepbrother.

  Was I supposed to feel bad about that? I was sure I was. But I didn’t. Every part of me was humming, singing hallelujah. I felt alive in a way I never had before. And lighter, too, like Gunner’s cock had fucked away every ounce of anger and misery and hatred inside of me.

  All that darkness, all that black, sickly shit. Gone. Just like that. All because I’d let myself fall into my stepbrother’s arms.

  “Where’re you going?” I asked him, and he replied with a heavy sigh.

  “Duty calls.”

  “You said you were taking a vacation!” I protested.

  “I’m meeting with the Detective. I want to see what they’ve come up with… Maybe I can help. We need to find this guy and get him off the streets.”

  I could see his silhouette via the moonlight streaming in through the hotel drapes. He looked like one of those Greek statues, all hard, smooth planes cast from the finest marble. His eyes glittered, and I watched them trail over me, half-covered in the sheets. His teeth gleamed like pearls when he smiled.

  Damn. That smile.

  “Let me hold you before you go,” I said, and with a soft chuckle, Gunner obliged me. He came to my side of the bed wearing only his jeans and I wrapped my arms around him, nuzzling into his Adonis lines.

  Gunner smelled like cookies and milk. Like fresh-baked bread and lazy summer days. He smelled like the childhood I’d lost when my mother died. And he smelled like sex, dark and deep, a current of spices and musk and man that made my stomach turn to butterflies.

  Gunner smelled like home.

  “I’ll be back soon, baby,” he whispered in the dark. I dipped my head just a little lower, using my teeth to pull at his jeans, and he laughed again, so melodic. Like a symphony. “We can do more of this when I get back. Wait for me.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, looking up into his eyes. I could’ve gotten lost in them forever. “I’ll wait.”

  Gunner slipped a finger beneath my chin and leaned close to me. “I mean it, baby. Wait. I want you aching for me while I’m gone.”

  He placed a long, tender kiss on my lips, one that set my heart on fire all over again. I tried to cling to him but easily disengaged, setting my hands in my lap. He smiled.

  “If you’re a good girl, I’ll make it worth your while when I get back,” he promised me.

  I grunted and threw myself onto the bed, pouting as I watched him go. As he slipped on his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair in the bedroom mirror, my stepbrother never lost that cocky smirk on his face. He met my gaze in the reflection for just a moment, and his smirk softened, became something different.

  If I didn’t know my stepbrother better, I’d have said it was a look of longing. Of love.

  Then he headed to the door, slinging his jacket over his shoulder like a modern-day James Dean. The swagger in his step wasn’t lost on me. He was basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking just as much as I was.

  I buried my face in his pillow and took a big whiff of his scent. Our scent. The f
ragrance of our sex was all over the bed, woven right into the sheets. No matter how many times the cleaning staff washed them, I knew it was never coming off. I wondered if I could take them home with me like some sort of souvenir, evidence of the way Gunner had fucked me last night. My stepbrother was a god.

  Right now, though, he was an absent one.

  I sighed and stroked his side of the bed. It was already growing cold, the little hollow he’d slept in slowly rising into form again. I knew he’d be back soon. I trusted him. But there was a part of me that felt like every time he turned away, it would be the last I ever saw of him.

  Tucking the sheets between my knees, I let sleep take me then. With the bundle between my thighs and the pillow beneath my head, I could almost fool myself into believing that Gunner was still in bed, my head on his chest, his arm wrapped around me. The only thing missing was the beating of his heart, that soft lullaby that had put me to sleep the first time around, and the only thing I wanted to hear before bed from now until forever.

  I missed him already.

  I was going to go crazy sitting here like this. I grabbed my cellphone.

  Heya, Chel.

  Chelsea didn’t respond right away and I grumbled, sinking into the couch cushions in nothing but a tank top and sweat pants. It was a lazy day for me. I had nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and no one to look nice for. Gunner was working and Chelsea was probably still sleeping. The only thing I could find on TV were daytime soaps, and now that I’d finished the brunch room service had brought up, I was going nuts.

  I looked at the clock. How long would Gunner be gone?

  My phone buzzed against my hip and I grabbed at it excitedly. Finally, Chel had texted me back.

  SWEETS! where r u?????

  I started to reply, then realized what a long fucking story this all was. Instead I called, turning down the volume on the Real Housewives of Someplace or Another and eagerly waiting for her to pick up.

  When she did, the sound of her squeal about blew my eardrum out.

  “Tanya! Where the hell have you been, sweets?!”

  “I...” Shit. Now that I had her on the phone, I didn’t know where to start. “Did... did you hear about what happened at my stepbrother’s house?”

  “No,” she said more quietly, “they’ve been keepin’ all that pretty hush-hush. I just saw the cops were there and the bomb squad and—oh, God, Tanya. It’s not that creep again, is it?”

  I sighed. “Afraid so. Warn the girls, just in case he tries to come back to the club.”

  I told her about the painting on the wall. About what the bastard had done to Jax, and how he’d more or less tried to blow me up. I told her about the picture he’d taken from Gunner’s drawer of me as a kid, and we both made gagging noises at the thought of what that psycho was doing with it now.

  “Jesus, sweets. He must be one of them real crazies. He’s goin’ all Biblical on you. Are you sure you’re all right there all by yourself?”

  “I think so,” I said, warily looking around. “The hotel’s pretty nice, so they’ve got good security. We managed to snag a honeymoon suite. It’s got a great view, plus all the amenities, and...”

  And I couldn’t tell her more than that. Not without revealing our secret.

  The thought hit me all at once. Gunner and I would never be normal. Even if we got through this little mess, we’d never be able to tell people the truth. We’d always be hiding from something or someone. Either we were siblings, or lovers. The world was pretty clear on the fact that we couldn’t be both.

  Yet we were both. Fuck. What a mess. Maybe it was a good thing he’d kept me a secret…

  “Ooh, sounds ritzy,” Chel said, sounding none the wiser. “So, when’re you gonna ditch the nice digs and come back to work in this shithole?”

  “Never,” I told her. The sound of the word surprised even me. We both took a breath at the exact same time. “I’m... I’m not coming back, Chel. Not to the Domino, and not to any other strip club. Not ever.”

  Tears of realization welled in my eyes. I wiped them with the back of my hand, and then laughed a little. “I’m out. I’m done. Really done.”

  Chel took a moment to respond. She started to say several things at once, the high, squeaky pitch of her voice coming out in staccato bursts of nonsense. And then she laughed too, even though she sounded sad.

  “Good for you, sweets. Good for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For leaving you—”

  “Oh, Tanya,” Chel said, “don’t be stupid. Every girl in that club dreams of gettin’ out. Gettin’ away. Finding something, and someone, better than that fuckin’ death trap. We all dream of lives that aren’t dead ends.

  “And you get to live it. How the hell could I not be proud of you?

  “Just...” She paused. “Do you think we’ll still be friends? Y’know, after you’re gone? Are we gonna have anything to talk about?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Chel,” I said softly, hoping she could hear the love I had for her in my voice. “Of course we will. You’re still my bestie. It’s not like the only thing we had in common was the pole.”

  I could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end. “Get some rest, sweets. With everything you’ve been through, you’ve earned it. And don’t go lettin’ in any strangers!”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I teased. A pang of regret stole my breath away. Shit, how I wished my mom was here. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, sweets,” Chel said. “Be a good girl, huh?” Then she hung up the phone.

  I sat back against the couch. I felt so free. So liberated. Maybe not from my secrets, but knowing I never had to go back to that place—to the Domino, to the Dollhouse, to anywhere that exploited women—it was like someone had lifted a mess of chains off me, ones I hadn’t even realized were there in the first place.

  I ran my fingers through my hair, only to have them snag on a knot. I frowned. I needed a shower.

  Thankfully, from the glimpse I’d gotten of it last night, I knew our hotel had a pretty big one.

  I leapt off the couch at the prospect of doing anything other than twiddling my thumbs for the next eighteen hours and made a beeline right for the bathroom. I tossed my cell phone onto the counter and abandoned my sweats and tank top on the floor. No reason to pick up after myself when Gunner wasn’t around.

  The heat was exactly what I’d needed, and the massage feature on the showerhead didn’t hurt, either. Sex with Gunner had been a workout, and every muscle in my body was sore. Delightfully sore, but sore nonetheless.

  I closed my eyes and let the heat flow over me. This was bliss. Sheer, simple bliss. Right now, I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to feel. I just had to let the rising steam carry me away far from where anything mattered.

  Except Gunner kept crawling back into my mind. I couldn’t stop him. He was just... there. Invading every memory. Every personal space.

  Like how he’d invaded my pussy last night.

  It was no use. Nothing could take my mind off Gunner. I’d spent years trying to forget him, and now that I’d let him in, it was all going to be in vain. How could I forget the way he’d touched me? The way he’d looked at me last night? The hot press of his lips—his teeth on my neck—the sound of his wordless cries in my ear?

  I smiled. Things could be worse. You got a lot worse memories to look back on.

  That smile faded as soon as I’d had the thought. Was that what Gunner and I would be, in the end? A handful of memories? One or two nights of passion, and then back to the real world where people like us weren’t allowed?

  And how the hell had it come to this, anyway? I’d wanted to keep him at arm’s length. I’d wanted out of his house. I’d wanted him out of my life. Yet here we were, closer than ever before.

  You sneaky son of a bitch. How the fuck did you get into my heart?

  I shut off the shower and grabbed one of the super plush towels from the rack, then another for my hair. Once I’d
twisted it up over my scalp, I wiped down the bathroom mirror. My phone was blinking.

  I picked it up, expecting another message from Chel, or maybe a sexy text from Gunner. He’d made mention of wanting me to ache for him while he was gone. Wanted me to be a good girl and wait for him to get back before scratching that itch he’d instilled in me. He was probably busy waxing his engine or something, but hey, a girl could dream.

  Except what I saw on my screen wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare, coming from a blocked number.

  O ROSE THOU ART SICK.

  THE INVISIBLE WORM,

  THAT FLIES IN THE NIGHT

  IN THE HOWLING STORM:

  HAS FOUND OUT THY BED

  OF CRIMSON JOY:

  AND HIS DARK SECRET LOVE

  DOES THY LIFE DESTROY.

  I held my breath, as if some part of me knew there was more.

  And there was. Not a moment later, like he knew I was standing there in that bathroom reading his texts, he sent another.

  YOU CAN’T RUN FOREVER, TANYA.

  Chapter 17

  Gunner

  I pressed the new phone into Tanya’s hand, looking her right in the eye.

  “No calls. The only people you’re allowed to call from now on are the police and me.”

  I’d gone down to the convenience store on the corner and bought my stepsister one of those pre-paid burner phones you always heard about in spy movies. It was nothing glamorous, but I knew no one would be able to trace her number, so long as she wasn’t stupid.

  And she wasn’t stupid. Which begged the question of why the hell she was acting like she was.

  It still boggled my mind how that freak could have gotten a hold of her phone—the phone she’d only just bought, and with my credit card, no less—in order to clone it. That was the going theory, anyway. I’d watched enough TV to know that people only needed your phone for a second, then boom—they could read every message and hear every phone call. I hated how easy it was for creeps like this to do what they did.