by Karen Renee
I shook my head and gave Dad a double-take. “Um, it’s…uh. What?”
Dad chuckled. “You heard me, little girl. Homer’s been by twice this week.”
“Really?” I asked, my tone dubious.
“Yep. Tried to tell him to ditch the cigarettes, but he ain’t listening.”
Roll chuckled. “But I am keepin’ my cigarettes in my saddlebag when I’m here.” He looked at me. “Your pop’s as sneaky as you, Trixie. Caught him tryin’ to steal one.”
My eyes bulged, and I almost didn’t know who to start with, but I went with Roll because he shouldn’t have been with my Dad anyway.
My glare was shortened by my father. “Thought we were keepin’ that secret,” he grouched.
“No secrets with me and my woman, Patrick.”
I ignored Roll’s remark, and took in my father’s appearance. He didn’t look very healthy, but he also didn’t look any sicker than the last time I visited. His shaking was minimal, which would indicate his meds were working, but his earlier confusion made me think he needed to visit the doctor‒ soon.
Dad smiled at Roll. “You young’uns. A man should always have a secret. My brother-in-law Derrick taught me that.”
My blood ran cold. Dad hadn’t mentioned Uncle Derrick in the last seven years, and he’d mentioned him twice in last twenty minutes. Why he was doing it now beat the hell outta me.
“You need me to cook for you, Dad?”
“Nah, honey. Homer made all kinds of stuff for me yesterday.”
“Oh-kay.” My eyes slid to Roll and I struggled to stay mad at him.
“You want some brisket? Almost as good as yours, dear.”
Dad was right. Roll’s brisket was almost as good, but like so many other things he never listened to me.
“She keeps tryin’ to tell me how to improve. Looks like I’m gonna have to listen,” Roll said.
A few minutes later, Roll excused himself to use the bathroom. Dad pounced on the opportunity to talk to me privately. “Don’t know why, but I like him, Patricka. Always saw you with a man who looked like he could keep you safe.”
I didn’t want to burst Dad’s bubble that Roll had in fact failed to keep me safe, but that was one of the upsides to dying my hair. It gave me the excuse to stay away, and more time for my face to heal.
Dad kept talking. “Though, I do not know why you didn’t bring him by yourself. He told me you’d been banged up in an accident coupla weeks ago.”
This was going from bad to worse. I had thought Roll was leaving me be the last two weeks, but instead he’d ingratiated himself with my dad. A big part of me wanted to love it, but it was a step too far and all too late.
Leave it to Roll to turn a cliché on its head. Rather than give me too little, too late, he was doing too much, just too damn late.
***
Roll and I were leaving my Dad’s place. Unfortunately, he didn’t amble over to his bike, he was waiting by my driver’s side door.
“What now?” I asked. I hadn’t meant to be snippy, but it had been a long day and I was tired of being railroaded by the men in my life.
“Now we go home.”
I jerked my head toward his bike. “Yep. Your wheels are over there, sport.”
“Ha-ha, Trix. Hand me the keys. We’ll come back for my bike in the morning.”
The hell we would! I wanted to say that out loud, but no way I could do that without yelling, and Dad didn’t need to hear it.
Roll noticed the conflict on my face. “You might not have realized this yet, but I will wear your ass down, Trixie.” After a heavy pause, he added, “And then I’ll wear your ass out.”
A warm thrill radiated from my belly up to my heart and down to my snatch. I held my hand up in front of us to emphasize my words. “That is not gonna happen.”
Problem was, I forgot my keys were held loosely in the hand I held up.
Roll deftly nabbed the keys from me, unlocked the door and crammed his big body behind the wheel of my car.
“Goddammit, Roll! Nobody drives my baby but me and my mechanic, now get the fuck out,” I said in my lowest holler possible.
“You wanna cause a scene for your father to watch, that’s on you, baby. He told me last week you were hell on wheels, but of course, I told him I figured that out about you the third time we met. Now, get in on the other side. I’ll show you how this bitchin’ car should really be driven when you’re tryin’ to get away from somebody.”
Fool that I was, I obeyed.
Ten minutes later, and I couldn’t shake my discomfort. I had never been a passenger in my own vehicle. With anyone else at the wheel, I knew I would despise it, but with Roll behind the wheel I was uncertain. It hit me hard that this was the first time I’d ever seen him in a cage. He was always on his bike; even in the worst of weather, he was on his bike.
“You never drive cages.”
He chuckled ominously. “Never say never, babe. Now, Hardee’s-slash-Red Burrito, McDonald’s, or Burger King?”
“What? What’re you talkin’ about?”
He looked me up and down, then back to the road. “Curves like yours don’t take care of themselves. Rage said that asshole ordered a fuckin’ appetizer for y’all, which I know you didn’t get to eat, and you may or may not have eaten the rest of your sandwich while drivin’ down here. It’s nearly eight o’clock. You need some damn food, woman.”
I hated that he knew me so damn well. While I slipped through a few yellow-lights, I still hit my fair share of reds, and while stopped I did polish off my cheesesteak. Before I could argue that I was fine, my damn growling stomach betrayed me.
Roll’s chuckle told me he heard it.
“I don’t care. Whatever you want.”
He pulled into the Hardee’s drive-through, and I thought we’d leave after we received our order, but no. He motored through the parking lot to the far side of the strip mall behind the Hardee’s. There was a liquor store, and Roll executed a wide turn to pull into their drive-through.
“What are you doin’ now?” I asked.
“Woman, I don’t do Natty Light. It’s Friday, and neither of us have anywhere to be tomorrow. Don’t know when I’ll be able to let my hair down like this again, so I’ll take full advantage while I can.”
My eyebrows furrowed and I opened and closed my mouth three times. How did he know I had Natty Light at home? It wasn’t something kept at the clubhouse, and I didn’t order it when we were out and about. Those thoughts were trivial compared to the fact that he knew I had nowhere to be tomorrow. I really didn’t know how he could possibly know that.
As I geared up to ask him, the window to the liquor store opened and Roll placed his order. “Bottle of Crown. Largest one you got. A fifth of 1800, fifth of Disaronno, two-liter of Coke, two-liter of Sprite, and the largest bottle of margarita mixer you got.”
The clerk gave him his total and slid the window shut while he retrieved the liquor.
Looking at Roll askance, I asked, “Are you tryin’ to kill me?”
“Course not. I don’t drink the same shit you do, you know that. Plus, I just ordered you three soft tacos, and Red Burrito may not be top-quality, but hell if you’re havin’ ‘em without a margarita in hand.”
My stupid heart fluttered at that. We had spent plenty of time together over the years, but Roll never indicated that he gave the first fuck about my likes and dislikes. Maybe he’d been paying more attention than I gave him credit for. He shoved the first of two cellophane bags at me, which prevented me from contemplating his actions any further.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Trixie
“You really need to move out of here,” Roll said as he sat down across from me with his huge chicken tender meal.
I had my first taco midway to my mouth and paused to give him a disbelieving look. It was a toss-up as to whether it was the excellent margarita he’d made for me that kept my temper from flaring or if it was the way he set up my food and insisted that I would be eati
ng first. Any other time over the years, Roll let me fend for myself where food or drinks were concerned. He didn’t do gentlemanly behavior, but of course, I was always one to take care of myself. This undiscovered sweet side to him had me thoroughly off my game.
He was chowing down on chicken, but shot me an expectant look, so I answered. “Not movin’ right now. I get an A.M. position, I’ll get a raise, and I’ll move closer to whichever store they put me at.”
He pointed a french fry at me. “Make more sense you stay at the clubhouse instead. You could save all manner of cake that way, and then you could even buy a house close to wherever you land.”
My head tilted. “Blood and Abby need somewhere to crash occasionally, you know.”
“Was talkin’ about my room, woman,” he growled.
I just managed to not roll my eyes at him, and finished eating my taco.
“What’s with you, Blood, and Abs anyway? You been in a threesome with them or somethin’?”
My laughter filled the room. Blood and Abby were sexually adventurous in the extreme, but that was not the sort of relationship I had with the two of them, not even a little bit, but I got perverse pleasure in hearing that hint of jealousy in Roll’s question. I gave him a coy look. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Take that as a no, then. So, why’re you so tight with them?”
“Do you not know how your own MC works, Roll? What kind of question is that? I’m tight with lots of people in the club.”
“Yeah, I do know that.”
Speaking of knowing things, I remembered my qualms about things he said in the car outside the liquor store. “How’d you know I have Natty Light?”
Roll kept his head bent to his food. “Rage saw you heft the case into your ride. Neither one of us knows how you can stand the shit. He figures it’s a case of beer math. I figure you need to move to the compound.”
I couldn’t stop my snort. “My choice of beer means I need to be at the compound? That’s a stretch, Roll and I know you know it.”
He grinned and shook his head. “Not a stretch, baby. Not at all. You live in the compound you got beer on fuckin’ draft, and that’s light years better than what you bought.”
“Such a beer snob.”
A hungry gleam entered his eyes. “Know what I’m not snobby about?”
Damn him and his rhetorical questions. I didn’t want to know.
“You and your choice pussy.”
Shaking my head, I finished my margarita so my other two tacos could absorb some of the alcohol.
“Another cocktail?” he asked.
“No. Soon as you’re done, I’m takin’ you to your bike.”
His lips pursed for a moment. “Nuh-unh. I’m stayin’.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Baby. I. Am.”
“Why?” I asked, sounding exasperated because I had to wonder how many times I’d asked it today alone.
“Because I love you, that’s why.”
I tossed my napkin on the table. “You do not.”
“Why would you say that?”
Urgh! My hands tore into my hair. I glared at him. “Do you know why I was sobbing at the clubhouse when you assholes sent Mallory to console me? I was listening to the song ‘Broken’ by Lifehouse. You’ve broken me! I know that song’s religious, but it’s fuckin’ true. I should be able to find meaning in your name, but that’s never going to happen.”
His index finger slid along my cheek. “I’m broken, too, Trixie.”
I saw red. “Bullshit! Bull. Shit! You’re not broken. You’ve never been broken!”
If he’d put his cut on me, I’d have been defined as his. Roll’s. Him thinking he could be broken, let alone actually being broken was sheer craziness!
“Not talkin’ about the same song you’re talkin’ about, even if they got the same title. That new one. I’ve always met you late night at parties. First one, I saved you; second one, I snubbed you; and the third one, I fuckin’ missed you…much to Har and Brute’s satisfaction.”
“Will I ever live that down in your eyes?” I blurted, and wished I hadn’t.
“Wasn’t tryin’ to make you feel bad,” he said in an achingly gentle tone. A wry smile twisted his lips. “Hell, if anything it made me question my assumptions.”
He was baiting me, but even if I knew I shouldn’t take the bait, I couldn’t help myself. “What assumptions?”
“Assumed a perfect woman didn’t exist. When you didn’t come back I figured I was right, but looking back, I fucked that up, because you’re the perfect woman for me.”
“Did you find some Valentine’s shit on clearance or somethin’? ‘Cause, legit, I don’t know about all this hearts-and-flowers bullshit you’re spoutin’ at me.”
He looked at me in a strange way. “I’d entertain the idea of a threesome, but I’m too damn possessive of you.”
“You are not possessive of me.”
He nodded. “I am. You just never made me prove it. Least, not until today.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
His chin lifted. “Which was why I let Rage do my dirty work. Wouldn’t want your friend to soil himself.”
“He didn’t do that, but he damn sure showed his ass.”
“’Nuff ‘bout him. I’d rather you show me your ass.”
I smiled with my lips closed. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He prowled around the edge of the table and pulled me up. “Since when did either one of us ignore a bad idea?”
“This is different,” I hedged, while placing my hands against his chest to keep some distance between us.
He opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes lit as he seemed to think better of it. “You’re right. It is different, because I’m not holdin’ anything back from you any more.” With a wink‒a wink!‒he settled his lips on mine and his tongue moved into my mouth.
***
Roll had always been a big man. Never was I more aware of how big he was than when he hovered over me in the missionary position. He had his fingers entwined with mine and his hands were forcing my arms down hard, just like many other times, and I loved it, but had never told him that I loved it. That feeling that he paid more attention to me than I gave him credit for came back to niggle me.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, on an upward thrust.
A warm feeling curled through my torso, but I was determined to ignore the feeling and his words.
Another jarring thrust. “You are mine, Trixie,” he growled.
He continued, and the power behind his movements built, and I knew we were both getting close.
“You are mine. Want to hear you say it,” he demanded.
If he would have insisted on this three weeks ago, I’d have said it immediately. Tonight though, it seemed wrong. Like he was making a show of claiming me privately. I didn’t want a private show of claiming because, frankly, he couldn’t claim me since I’d given myself to him years ago. The claiming I wanted from him needed to be public, as well as loud and proud, as it were.
His eyes blazed at me, but before he could ask me to say it, I spoke in a raspy voice. “It’s always been that way, but I can’t say that right now.”
My hands were released quickly. With unexpected agility, his arms swooped under me and he rolled us so I was now on top. Those hands powered down to my hips, encouraging me to ride him.
He leaned forward with his eyes on my breasts. “I fucked up. Christ, how I fucked up.”
His lips and teeth captured the hoop ring in my nipple and he sucked harder than he ever had before, which sent me right over the edge. My moan was higher and keener than before, but then Roll released my tit and put me on my back. His bulk powered into me, and he shouted when he finally found his release. Anytime he finished, his body was exceptionally still, but rather than get off me or make moves to clean up, his head lowered to me.
Those gorgeous mahogany eyes bore into mine. “I love you, Trix.”
The w
ords were at the back of my throat, itching to escape, but I couldn’t do it. I would not put myself out there like this, only to have Roll turn tail. It may have been cowardly of me, but I preferred to think of it as self-preservation. I simply could not trust that he genuinely felt what he said. Seeing someone you cared about beaten as badly as I had been pulled a number on a person. For all I knew, Roll simply thought he loved me, and things would go back to the way they had been in a few days.
I hedged my bets. “Always felt the same way ‘bout you.”
His head turned marginally so he could look at me from the corner of his eye. I expected him to say something, but he dipped his head and put a warm, nipping kiss to the base of my neck and collar bone. That was a new way to finish things, but I wouldn’t let myself dwell on that.
When he finally pulled out in order to clean up, I bee-lined to the kitchen. He’d driven my Vixen home, and I vaguely thought he’d put the keys on the counter. I moved frantically, but quietly, about my kitchen, not seeing a sign of my keys.
“Why, why why?” I hissed to myself. I had no idea why I let that man get to me. It was worse than Superman and his damn Kryptonite.
I nearly jumped a foot when Roll’s voice crooned into the room. “Lookin’ for these?”
Looking over my shoulder, I saw he was dangling my keys from his index finger. He had pulled on his boxers and nothing else. I was wearing no clothes, and for some stupid reason I felt embarrassed for him to see me in the buff. Swallowing that down, I turned and tried to snatch my keys from his finger tip.
“Nope.” He held the keys out of my reach. “What do you need with these keys right now? Though, I’d rather know why you were asking yourself ‘Why’ instead.”
I schooled my features. “I like to know my keys are where I always leave them. You never know when an emergency will happen. I’d rather not be lookin’ for my keys like a chicken missing its head.”