by Debra Kayn
“Fuck.” He threw back his head and thrust his hips in short bursts.
She sucked, licked, and caressed him, until he rose on his toes and arched his back. He groaned and shuddered against her. His come hit the back of her palate, and she splurged on the salty taste of his pleasure.
He lowered her arms and gently removed himself. “Left me weak, lady.”
She moaned over the loss of him. He’d come to mean so much to her, and she feared that she was falling in love. Every night she talked herself out of expressing her feelings, because they were moving too fast and she had a mess of a personal life that she was nowhere near fixing. She'd half convinced herself that what they had was a hell of a love affair going on, and everything was spontaneous and freeing. They enjoyed each other's bodies, but these feelings controlling her were more than a good time and a memory. She cared about him, and she wanted him to stay because the thought of not having him in her daily life left her anxious and lonely.
“My turn." He put his hands under her armpits, lifted her onto the workbench, straightened her legs, and peeled her shorts off.
She propped herself on her hands, lifting her ass. "But, you don't have time."
"I have time," he said, and she loved how his rough voice rolled through her.
Within seconds, he had her bare. He squeezed her aching breasts. She lowered herself to her elbows, half hanging off the bench, knowing he wouldn’t stop and leave her unfulfilled. He was a demanding lover, going beyond his ability to make sure she was satisfied every day, sometimes multiple times a day.
Her self-esteem rebounded more each day and the healing was in part because of him. The other part came from her, because he gave her the confidence to dare and be happy.
He rolled and tugged her nipples. Her head lolled against the floor, pleasure rushing into her body.
“God, please,” she begged.
He settled himself between her legs. His tongue swept her slit, licking the wetness from her labia. She spread her knees more, making room for his shoulders. Two fingers entered her, shocking her body in the most delightful and excruciating way. When he scissored his fingers, hitting her sweet spot, her pelvis thrust off the hard surface. He refused to let her move away, and cupped her ass, dragging her forward and supporting her weight
He worked inside her, stroking, rubbing at her sensitive clit until she writhed on weak arms, eager for what he could do for her.
“Remmy.” She bit down on her lip, straining for the release that hovered just out of reach.
He rose, kissing her tattoo. "Damn, that's sexy."
He lifted his head. She grabbed for him, panicked that they'd taken too long. “No, please don't go.”
He straightened and slid his cock into her pussy. “Never.”
His recovery surprised her. His gaze met hers. She straightened, wrapping her arms around his neck.
His eyes glazed over. Riding high and floating on emotions, she locked herself around him. Pleasure, so potent and real thrummed through her at having him inside of her. She couldn't look away from his eyes. They were fevered and untamed, yet stable and sane. Only when his thirst for her raged out of control did she see what she craved more than her next breath.
An absolute lack of control. That point where he lost the ability to stop fate and gave himself completely to her.
Through his eyes, she saw the possessive prowess that she was feeling.
“That's it, lady.” He plunged, withdrew, plunged, withdrew.
His cock stroked the inner spot that drove her wild. She clutched his shoulders, arching against him. She quivered and tensed. Her climax came hard and fast, leaving her gasping and screaming his name. She shuddered as the pleasure rippled through her sex, milking him until he grunted and thrust into her.
He rode her steady and hard, back and forth, back and forth. She thrashed and grabbed for him, loving the feel of him taking his own need from her again. Giving to her again. Coming again, until she thought she was going to die of intense ecstasy.
With a violent eruption, he ground his hips against her. She hung on to him, wanting to keep him forever, and knowing that she'd have to say goodbye.
"Are you trying to kill me, lady?" He kissed her temple and exhaled in contentment. "Not sure my legs are strong enough to carry me to my Harley.
"Maybe you should stay." She stretched and grabbed her panties and shorts off the bench. "We could—"
"Get a move on, brother," Ink shouted from outside.
She clutched Remmy, and he lifted her off the workbench. On wobbly legs, she hurried and dressed.
"Yo, Remmy." Ink strolled into the warehouse. "Everyone's looking...hell, man, we're doing all the work out there, and you're in here slapping ass."
Remmy stone-faced him. "Get out."
Ink shoved his hands in his front pockets, rocked back on his heels, and eyed Natalie. "I'll wait for you."
Remmy grabbed his pistol off the table. "Get the fuck out."
Ink backed out of the warehouse, hands up, laughing and unafraid. Natalie zipped up her shorts, straightened her tank, and watched Remmy put the pistol in the back of his jeans. She shivered, goosebumps breaking out over her arms. He'd talked about the precautions of staying at the clubhouse, having two members with her if she had to run into town, and not letting her attorney know where she was staying, because he did not want Will around while he was gone.
Yet, he was going to be riding across the panhandle of Idaho and clear across Washington state. The dangers were higher for him. Los Li was a huge threat and reality to him. The things he'd seen and done were what she saw on television and unbelievable without seeing them for herself. But, she'd seen the damage Los Li had done to Risa, and felt the tension and seen the exchange of concerned looks between the members when they'd talked about the trip.
They obviously loved going to Pitnam and visiting their MC family. For how much she sensed their excitement, she couldn't miss the seriousness of the situation or the extra precautions they took. Remmy's bag had extra pistols and ammunition. There were phone calls made to learn about any surprises that might crop up during their ride, and other riders notified to keep watch as they rolled through Spokane, and traveled down I-5.
"Come here," he said.
She walked into his embrace, holding him tight. "Be careful."
"Always," he said.
She squeezed her eyes closed, overcome with the thought of being without him. She'd suffered through too many losses, and though she'd see him again in four days, his leaving hit her hard. He'd become so much more than a friend, and she didn't want to send him off without telling him how much he meant to her.
"Remmy, I need to tell—"
"Put your dick away and get your ass out here," Cutter yelled from outside.
"I'm going to kill them." Remmy kissed her hard and deep. "I need to hit the road."
She groaned, frustrated at the urgency. "But, I—"
"Slip your shoes back on and I'll walk you over to the club," he said.
"Stop. Just stop." She lowered her voice. "This is important, and I promise to hurry. You need to hear what I have to say."
He stood in front of her, his gaze softening. "Go on and say it then."
She placed her hands on his chest. "I want you to know that being with you every minute of the day, I've grown to like our time together."
"I know." He stepped forward, obviously thinking the conversation was over. "Me, too."
She pushed against him. "And, I'm going to miss you."
"Yeah." He kissed her. "Four days. I'll be back."
"Right." She inhaled deeply. "It's just that..."
"Spit it out, lady. We're leaving and as the V.P., I need to roll them out," he said.
Her spine stiffened, because she always hated how she had to obey Robert, to do whatever he wanted, to put herself last so that she could help him. "Do you ever get tired of answering to someone else?"
He moved in and got in her face. "I'm Bantorus unti
l the day I die, lady, and that counts for every member here, clear down to Big Dawg. I'd lay my life down for my brothers."
She swallowed hard, wishing she'd never started the conversation. Nothing was coming out right. She admired his position, and if she was honest, she was jealous of the commitment, love, and security he had within the club. She was alone, and she was aware that he would never understand what she'd lived through and continued to go through all alone.
"I'm sorry," she said, stretching on her tiptoes and kissing him softly. "Go, and have a safe trip. I'll see you when you get back."
He hooked her neck, holding her in place. "Your head's not filled with me."
He wasn't asking, he was stating a fact, and the surprise in his tone let her know he finally heard her. She whispered, "I care about you, more than I planned to when I came back to the club with you. This should be the worst time of my life, and because of you, it's the best time. That's a sad fact, and I hate admitting it, but I want you to know how important you've been to me."
"Been?" His hand tightened possessively on her. "I'm coming back."
"I know." She braved a smile. "I'm scared of losing another person in my life and not speaking up. I'm truly worried about never having you in my life again and it's kicking my butt."
"Jesus," he mumbled, pulling her in and holding his lips against her forehead. "We need to talk, but I can't. Hold those feelings, lady. I'll call you, and you can text me if you want to get something off your chest, but I swear, I'm coming back."
She nodded against him. He kissed her one more time, and guided her out of the warehouse with his hand still on the back of her neck, massaging the tension out of her. She walked in silence to the club, gave him another kiss goodbye, glanced at the members waiting on their bikes, and let Remmy direct her inside the door.
"Stay with the members and hang out with the girls. Do not go anywhere by yourself," he said, staring intently at her.
"I won't." She laid her hand on her chest. "Be safe."
She shut the door before he'd see her cry and reminded herself it was only four days. Four days of sleeping by herself without his hard body beside her, four days of missing the hand that always went to the back of her neck and reminded her that she wasn't alone.
Her heart pounded, and the thrum echoed inside of her. Being with him filled her in a way that outweighed everything bad happening, and now that he'd left, she was hollow.
Chapter Thirteen
Interstate 90 stretched out before Remmy, riding beside Kurt, leading Ink, Cutter, and Germ. The others, Stripper, Crain, Muff, Tim, Sawyer, and Big Dawg, along with two other prospects—Wyatt and Beckett, stayed at the club to take care of business and the women.
Including Natalie, who wasn't okay with him leaving.
His whole life he'd avoided the responsibilities of having a woman. He enjoyed taking off, knowing when he came back from a ride any one of the hangers would be there to take the stiffness out of his body and set him right again. Then he'd be good to go until the next offer from one of the bitches came around to ease his body. He had his choice every night, every morning, and hooking up for a few hours never required any hard thoughts from him. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and walked away with a smile on his face and his dick content in his jeans.
He preferred the open road, the danger that came from living on the edge over staying one place and having to answer to someone. A woman at home only left a man half as sharp and aware, because his mind was on the soft body he'd added to his list of distractions.
Except, he couldn't forget the sight of Natalie's brave front when she was telling him goodbye or the tremor she couldn't hide from him. Her reaction came from how she was feeling toward him, not the past. He was in her head, and that's where he wanted to stay and he couldn't do that a state away. He cussed into the wind, damning himself, because he cared. He cared a damn lot, and having her suffer a minute when he was the cause wasn't something he was willing to do. No matter how much he enjoyed his freedom.
He wanted Natalie's presence in his life and he wanted her at the top of his list of responsibilities. He sped up ahead of his president, making the resolution that'd change his life. Damn the freedom, he wanted Natalie warming his back and tied to him for the rest of his life.
Kurt glanced at him in question. Remmy swung his arm out and motioned for everyone to take the next exit. Now that he'd made his decision, he fought turning his bike around.
He led the riders off exit 51, rolled through the stop sign and turned right into the vacate lot that went under the off-ramp. He cut the engine.
Kurt took off his helmet and glanced behind him at Risa before meeting Remmy's gaze. "What's going on?"
"Change of plans. I'm riding back to the club and I'll catch up with you. A meals on me if you want to wait the hour it'll take me." He looked at each of the riders. "I'm going back for Natalie."
"Yes," Risa said, squeezing Kurt. "I knew it."
He winked at his president's old lady and spoke to Kurt. "Let me know which way you want to work the changes."
Kurt grinned. "I don't know about anyone else, but I'm hungry."
"I could eat," Ink added.
Cutter laughed. "I'm good."
"That's because you've ate a bag of sunflower seeds and we're only fifteen miles out." Germ flicked an empty shell off his shoulder. "From here on out, you ride end man position. You're worse than the fucking bugs in spring hitting me. You and your damn sunflowers."
Cutter reached for his knife, flicked it open, and got off his bike. "Take it back."
"Brothers." Kurt shook his head. "Everyone ride out. There's a pancake house down the street."
Remmy stretched across the empty space and knuckle bumped Kurt. "Thanks, man."
"Go get your woman," Kurt said. "Watch your back."
He wasted no time. Backing up his motorcycle, he turned, and gunned the throttle. Oldest member in the Federal Charter and he felt young and rode the biggest high of his life. Natalie needed time to let go of the past and embrace the future, more time than he was comfortable giving her, but in the meantime, she was going to be his woman in the true sense of the position.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to the fence of the clubhouse and spotted Sawyer, who ran over to open the gate. Remmy waited until Sawyer unlocked the padlock and gave him admittance, then said, "Natalie?"
"In your bedroom." Sawyer jogged up the steps behind Remmy. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah." He pushed through the steel door and ignored the curious looks coming from everyone in the main room, knowing Sawyer would appease everyone's worry about his return.
At the top of the stairs, he opened the first door on the right and let it bang against the wall. His adrenaline raced.
Natalie sat cross-legged in the middle of the unmade bed, a tub of vanilla ice cream on her lap, and a loaded spoon near her mouth. He drank her in, trying to absorb the sight of his woman with ice cream shining on her upper lip. Every time they ate downstairs, she spent more time pushing her food around her plate rather than putting it in her mouth.
He leaned against the door. "Is this how you're going to entertain yourself while I'm away?"
Dark smudges from her makeup tinted her upper cheeks. He sucked in his breath and swallowed. He'd made her cry.
"It sounded like a good plan when I came inside." She frowned, sitting the ice cream carton beside her and dropping the spoon inside the container. "The ice cream was an afterthought, but I planned to stay in the room tonight and read, until I realized I don't have any books and the club members don't seem to be readers."
"The girls have books. All you have to do is ask," he said.
"Oh." She gazed around the room, avoiding his eyes.
He shoved his hands in his front pockets. He spent all his time avoiding relationships, but that didn't mean he was an asshole toward women. He always went out of his way to make them feel better, sometimes even at his own expense. Natalie wasn't one of those wom
en, she was his soul. "I hurt you."
"No." Her gaze came back to him, and she untangled her legs and moved off the bed to approach him. "Okay, that's not entirely true. Originally, I was upset, but I'm not anymore."
He shook his head in confusion. "I'm not following you."
"This is craziness, and that's why I was upset. From the moment you put me on the back of your bike to right now when I'm standing in front of you and feel like I'm drunk on you." She slipped her hands inside of his vest and laid her palms on his chest. "I thought it would be safe to explore my attraction to you and still keep my distance. You're different from what I'm used to, and you're bossy. I'd convinced myself that I was spending time with you, because it was easier to have a tough guy to back me up and I enjoyed that you were here if I wanted to talk. You kept telling me to let you inside and trust you. I thought I was. I thought about you when I went to sleep, even before we were having sex. In the mornings, I'd become overwhelmed with how I was feeling. You invaded every aspect of my life, but you were wrong too."
"I'm not wrong," he mumbled.
She smiled and damned if he didn't want to lick the sheen of ice cream off her lip. "You were, because it wasn't my thoughts that you needed to be in. You were already taking up every conscious moment. I know to everyone else, that's wrong, because I'm supposed to be mourning and going through the five stages of grief and all that shit."
"Lady," he said. "Please get to the point."
She inhaled deeply. "The point is somehow, and I'm not sure how it happened, you turned out to be my ideal man. You have to understand that my married life wasn't good, Remmy, and there were many nights and days where I'd imagine how I'd want to be treated and loved. I idolized my personal thoughts and knew that no matter what the future brought, I'd set myself up for disappointment, because there was no way I'd ever have a man that made me feel special. That was until you walked into my life. Today, after you left, I realized you'd not only gotten into my head—she patted her chest—you're here, and that's more important."