by S. E. Jakes
When he went down, I walked over to Carlton. “Car or no?”
He sneered. “Give me the goddamned car. No money until Noah shows.”
“How about half, asshole. Because you’ll still sell this one.”
I guess he figured he wouldn’t get rid of me. He paid me and I checked the money, then gave him the directions to find the car and walked away. Unless I wanted to pass the men I’d taken down again, I’d have to take the long way down the docks.
Obviously, Noah playing my wingman wasn’t happening, so I was prepared to walk home.
I made it halfway through the big field that separated the docks from the rest of society when I heard the bikes. In seconds, I was surrounded. Which meant whatever was happening was part of a setup. Had to be, because I never fucking got caught, and unless Noah actually had been stupid enough to tell Edmund I was helping him . . .
It took me ten seconds to realize two things: the guys surrounding me were Havoc, and they hadn’t caught me as much as saved my ass, since Carlton’s goons were coming back for me. Or at least trying to, and currently being held by two large, black leather–wearing Havoc guys.
I turned around to face the MC guys and in no way was I prepared to see Ryker, standing calmly next to his big black bike, waiting. For me. And while there was patience in his stance, there was none in his expression when he said, “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I told him through clenched teeth. Because I was sore and fighting hadn’t helped but I’d handled it, dammit. “What’s going to happen to those two guys?”
“Let me worry about that,” Ryker told me. Hell, I would—the fewer of Edmund’s guys around, the better.
Ryker wasn’t coming toward me. I could stand in the middle like an idiot or move closer so everyone didn’t hear our conversation. So I did. The other MC members backed off a little, giving us space, which was good. Or bad, maybe. I wasn’t sure yet. Who the hell knew what Ryker told them about me? About who I was? Some random car thief he was helping, probably.
“Why were you on the docks?” I asked, and Ryker stared at me, then raised his brows. “No fucking way are you here for me.”
“If we weren’t here already, it goddamned would’ve been because of you,” he informed me. “I told you that you’d need to lay low for a while not ten hours ago.”
“You left.” It came out of my mouth before I could stop it, and he looked confused.
“What are you talking about?”
“I woke up. You were gone.”
“I told you I’d had somebody on you.”
“Yeah but . . .” Christ, I was not this needy. Pull it together, Rush. I’d just boosted a significant chunk of change in car and parts. I’d defended my country. I didn’t need to be fucking taken care of. I didn’t need a relationship, no matter how badly I suddenly thought I wanted one. “I don’t want to need you.”
Ryker tilted his head to the side, frowning slightly. “Is it really so bad?”
When you leave, and I don’t know what the fuck to do? Yeah. And I was pretty sure I didn’t say that last part out loud, but the way he looked at me . . . dammit, I didn’t have to say anything.
“You’re fucking up my meeting, Sean. Badly.”
He looked different. I’d seen him in his leathers before, but in a much different context. Here, he was primed and ready for some kind of meeting or brawl or whatever the fuck, and he wanted me the hell out of there.
“I can’t do this.” I motioned between us. “Whatever it is, I can’t do it.”
“Why’s that?”
“For one thing, I’m not good at being controlled, being told what to do. And this? You’re telling me I’m fucking up your business. I’m not going to sit at home not doing anything because it might fuck with your business.”
Ryker swore. “You’re going to have to.”
“And if I won’t, what? You’ll be done with me? Done pulling my ass from the fire?”
“You want me to do that, Sean? Why? Because that would make it easy on you?”
“Yes.”
Ryker shook his head, huffed out a breath, his anger dissipating in front of my eyes. Mine didn’t, but he didn’t seem to expect it to. His arms were crossed though, and his body language was serious.
I pushed my luck. “I didn’t ask for this. I’ll get the fuck out of here. I get how things work in your world.”
“What do you know about my world?” Ryker demanded.
“Enough to know I could ruin your image if your club knew about us,” I muttered. God, I was a fucking brat, because he’d told me I was in the middle of his work—nothing about being embarrassed to be around me—but I took it there anyway. Because I was pretty damned certain gay bikers weren’t a thing.
Once I’d said it, I couldn’t take it back, so I just turned and walked away.
Before I could get farther than two steps, his heavy hand was on the back of my neck, his other arm spinning me around so not only was I facing him again, but I was pressed against his body.
There was dead silence all around us.
Then he leaned in and kissed the shit out of me, one of those tongue-fucking, I’m going to fuck you blind promises of a kiss kisses.
I surged against him, because my body always turned goddamned traitor for Ryker, and he chuckled into my mouth when I groaned.
Then he pulled back, his eyes dark and serious. “Got it, Sean? I don’t give a fuck who knows you’re mine, but I do give a fuck when you disrespect me by not fucking listening to me in front of my club. Clear?”
It was. But I was stuck on the mine thing, especially when he said, “Let’s go,” straddled his bike and jerked his head toward the back. Like I was supposed to get on behind him. Like he hadn’t heard a goddamned word I said about not being able to sit at home and not wanting to worry about fucking up his business. He was ignoring my whole we can’t do this speech.
But my car was an hour away, and I had no other way out of here. I couldn’t hang out at the docks alone after this display, and it’s not like there were waiting cabs.
I was trapped, but hell, that’s not the reason I was considering getting on his bike.
Around us, the other bikers were still silent. I felt like an idiot, and, as if he knew, he cupped my chin and winked at me, then smiled.
But I couldn’t. Still, I kept my voice down so no one could hear when I told him, “I’m not riding in the bitch seat.”
He was trying not to grin, but failing. “Why not?”
“I know exactly what it means when you ride on the back of a guy’s bike.”
“Really?”
“It means you fucking own me, Ryker.”
“Don’t I?”
His words were a low rumble that shot straight to my dick and holy fuck . . . I had no answer. Well, obviously I did, but I refused to put voice to it.
I was out—that wasn’t the issue. And obviously being out wasn’t an issue for him either. But the MC shit, we’d never talked about it, what it meant for us. All these men knew about our relationship, knew he was looking out for me. Knew he considered me his.
I swear I had to remind myself to breathe.
“Get on the bike, Sean.”
This time, Ryker’s tone left no room for argument. If anything, it made me harder. I stopped thinking—par for the course when I was around Ryker—and I got on the bike behind him.
yker’s bike was sleek and silent. He powered through the darkness, and I leaned into the curves with him. I’d ridden before, bought a bike when I was sixteen, but I’d given it up quickly, because a car thief who rode a motorcycle was too damned visible.
Now, I wondered why I had given it up so easily. The ride was awesome, the freedom a blast of energy. Or maybe that was because I’d cheated death, at this point, more times than I cared to count.
I lost track of how long we were on the road, because really, what the hell did it matter? I had nowhere to be, no job, no one to report to. No one except the man sitting
in front of me, if I was to believe what he said.
I know he thoroughly believed it.
Eventually, he pulled off the road and guided the bike uphill along a narrow path, going deeper into the woods. Finally, he stopped in a clearing that was off even that path, shielded and private, although there was light filtering softly into the area.
“Where are we?” I asked as I got off the bike and took off the borrowed helmet.
“Havoc land.” He did the same, then tugged me to him. He was hard, so that was a consolation, like I might have a bit of control in this situation. “You’re staying with me.”
“I don’t think those guys from the docks will bother me anymore.”
“Wasn’t a question.”
I stared at him, starting to wonder if it was worth arguing over. But he wasn’t even going to let me get that far, because he was guiding my head to his chest, cradling it. I hadn’t even realized the tension making it pound. Whether the pain was physical or emotional, I couldn’t pull them apart.
“’S’all right, Sean. I’ll take care of everything.”
“I can take care of myself.” My broken record.
“You don’t have to.” And that was his. His hand was big and warm as his fingertips rubbed my scalp, then moved to my neck. His cock was rigid against mine through our jeans. I just closed my eyes and tried to imagine being taken care of all the goddamned time. “But you do have to start listening.”
“I’m not a goddamned dog you’re teaching to heel.” I pushed back, but his arms banded like steel around me. “And I’m not fucking you so . . .”
Ryker rolled his hips against mine, said, “Ah, sugar, don’t be like that.”
Shit. He used the drawl that went up and down my spine like his touch. The sex drawl. “Ryker . . .”
“Yeah, that’s the sound.” He wasn’t making fun of me at all. If I wasn’t reading that wrong, I’d think he was . . . worried about me. Like, beyond the possessive crap. “I wasn’t there when you had your accident. I should’ve been. You should’ve had my number in your phone. I should’ve been your first call. Beyond that, I should’ve been keeping a better eye on you, so you didn’t get into that position in the first place. You should’ve been able to come to me the second Edmund called you.”
The guilt in his voice was so apparent, I ached. I put a hand on his chest, keeping our bodies separate for a moment so I could think. “None of that’s your fault, Ryker. I don’t blame you for it. I’m really okay. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. But suppose I want to do it?”
“Why?”
“Sean, you really still have to ask?”
“Obviously, yes.”
He pushed my hand away and turned me around, pulled me so my back was to his chest. Licked the spot behind my ear as his hand went to my zipper. “How about I show, then tell?”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“Good. See, I’m really a reasonable guy.”
I laughed. “Next you’ll tell me that you don’t bite.”
“Oh, I definitely bite. I’ve been tame so far.”
“Tame?” I managed as he pulled my jeans open and down, and his hand circled my cock. My breath hitched, and he chuckled against my skin, stroking me, running a finger between my ass cheeks, fingering me open. My jeans were around my ankles. My hands were on the heavy leather seat of the bike. “Ryker . . .”
“Got you,” he said as his free hand trailed along my hip.
“I don’t know . . .”
“I do.”
His tongue ran down my spine. He sank to his knees behind me. Spread me. Ran his tongue down my ass crack, then buried his face in my ass, rimming me. That had been pretty new to me before Ryker started invading my bed, but he seemed to love it. His tongue circled my hole, and then he speared it, fucked me with it, thrusting in and out as I struggled to hang on to any last shred of dignity I had before I whimpered his name.
Ryker had complete control. The one thing I never told him to do was stop, because I didn’t want that at all.
It wasn’t any kind of race to the finish, because no matter how fast, how intense things were between us, Ryker always kept me skating that edge until I couldn’t stand it. I was holding on to the bike so hard my hands would ache in the morning. He held me so tightly I’d have bruises, and I wanted that.
He’d pushed me past any boundaries I’d set for myself before, and it didn’t appear that he planned on stopping.
I wanted to grab my cock, but I needed to hang on. “Ryk, come on, touch me.”
I jutted my hips forward, looking desperately for any kind of friction. He buried his tongue deeper inside of me, and I groaned into the darkness, begging. “Please. Come on, fuck my cock. I need . . .”
He put me out of my misery, winding an arm around to jack me in time with his tongue, making the orgasm a hard, blissful blast.
After I came all over his seat, he was up, entering me from behind, driving me onto my toes.
“Sean,” Ryker murmured against my neck, and for a long moment, we were still. Staring at the sky. And then he fucked me over his bike, hard and fast, until I cried out his name, and he bit the back of my neck and then sucked it as he came, his entire body shuddering against mine.
We stayed like that for a while, the cool air like heaven on my skin. Everything was calm around us—I was finally calm. And I saw no reason not to go with him to Havoc. Because even though he acted like I didn’t have a goddamned choice, I did, and I guess I’d just made it.
And even though Ryker hadn’t asked me for an explanation about tonight’s theft, I couldn’t help but give one. “Noah was in trouble. I couldn’t leave him hanging.”
“He left you.”
Well, not really, but hell, I was too tired to explain it all. I simply said, “That’s not the way I am, Ryker.”
He put his face between my shoulders, his arms tightening around me. “I know. But this is going to kill you, babe. One way or another.”
I swallowed hard, but didn’t respond. Because I’d been thinking the same thing for as long as I’d been in this shit. But once I’d gotten sucked in, there wasn’t much I could do about it—I was good at it. I liked it. And it allowed me to keep running, from everyone and everything.
Ryker was someone I couldn’t run from—at least not for the past eight months—because he always found me. Because I wasn’t in control. And for the first time in my life, it was a fucking relief.
e got back on the bike and rode the last mile to Ryker’s place. I couldn’t get a sense of the compound in the dark, and when he ushered me inside his house, he said, “I’ll show you around in the morning.”
I stared around at the open floor plan—the first floor had a fireplace, and thanks to the spotlight off the back porch, a great view of land. A killer kitchen. I looked up and saw the second floor. The whole place was modern mixed with rustic. It was huge, capable, and surprising, just like the man himself.
He offered me a beer. I asked for a soda instead. He glanced at me and gave me a soda and Advil. I didn’t bother pretending I didn’t need them. As I drank the sugary drink, Ryker brought over a couple of sandwiches, and I ate as he made a few calls. He didn’t try to hide what he was saying, but honestly, it had to be some kind of code, because I had no idea what he was talking about.
I thought about Bertha’s, where we’d first met. The bar was mainly an after-hours club, and it was in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, kind of like this compound. And since Bertha’s was rumored to be owned by Havoc, it was constantly packed with women (and men) hoping to catch a glimpse of a real, live Havoc biker. They were like celebrities at this point, more so than any other MC I’d ever come across. There was just a level of secrecy about them, and their mystique had been built on that.
That, plus the danger, plus Ryker, all equaled a major fucking turn-on for me.
Which he also fucking knew.
“You know too much,” I grumbled, not expectin
g him to answer.
“Which is something that never bothers you when I’m fucking you,” he pointed out. He put his phone down and asked, “Nightmares this week?”
“You tell me, Superman.”
“At least two. You’ll sleep better tonight.”
He was right. On both counts. “It’s really all right that I’m here?”
“You’re with me. That makes it all right.”
I studied him. He’d taken his cut off. The black T-shirt he wore pulled tight across his chest and the tattoos stood out under the lights. “Your MC really doesn’t care that you’re gay? Because I’m just not seeing gay and biker going together.”
“No one saw gay and soldier together either,” he said. “Just as easy to be a gay outlaw as it is to be a straight one. Besides, MC world’s no place for a woman.”
“That doesn’t stop them.”
“Everyone likes bad boys.”
I smiled at the truth in that. “I just wouldn’t have expected an MC to be that enlightened.”
“Some are, some aren’t. But I grew up in this—guys know what I can do. Nothing to do with who I fuck and besides, anyone who’s got an issue with it has to come to me.”
And since he was built like a brick motherfucking wall . . . “That’s cool.”
“If you can’t trust your brothers, who can you trust?” he asked and my gut twisted, because right now I wasn’t sure if I could trust my best friend, never mind myself.
According to Ryker, I never should’ve in the first place. “You have any active duty MC members?”
He nodded. “They don’t live on the compound, though.”
His hands slid over my shoulders. He rubbed, his fingertips digging in enough for a powerful massage. I was, of course, putty in his hands. Jesus, I melted for this guy. If he’d bent me over his bike in front of those guys earlier, I’d have let him.
So what did that say about me?
“No way,” he said.
“No way what?”
“If you’re thinking this hard, I didn’t fuck you well enough. Gotta start over.”