Riot: A Hell's Heathens MC Christmas Story (Older Man, Younger Woman MC Romance)

by Raven Dark

“That’s why I’m here,” he adds now. “I left the Daytona Chapter to get away.”

  “A fresh start.”

  He nods and clears his throat. “The point I’m trying to make is that I see where Devil is coming from. When you’re close to someone, it makes you crazy sometimes.”

  I sigh. “Well, when you put it that way, I get it too, I guess. But with Devil, it’s more than that. He won’t let me live my own life. He has to know everyone I hang out with. Seriously, sometimes he checks my phone. Or he did before I left. It’s like he thinks he’s my father or something.”

  Riot gives a pitiless snort of amusement. I can see it in his eyes, he’s all with Devil on that one.

  I slap his shoulder. “It’s not funny. He’s a control freak.”

  “But how old were you at the time?”

  I look away, feeling awkward.

  “Come on. How old?”

  “Sixteen,” I mutter.

  “See, yeah, if I was him, I’d do the same thing. Hell, considering your record for trouble, I would do it if you were mine now.”

  I gape at him. “Seriously? If I was your old lady, you’d…”

  He nods, and there’s a wicked twist to his mouth.

  “Oh my God. You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  “Riot, that’s…” My face flushes as an ache starts in my pussy.

  “What?” he presses, his eyes gleaming. “That’s what?”

  “Hot,” I mutter, unable to lie.

  He throws back his head and laughs. It’s a rich, full laugh that makes my stomach quiver.

  “But seriously, he has to loosen up,” I insist. “I’m not sixteen anymore.”

  Riot twines his fingers with mine. “He will. When he sees that you’re okay and you don’t need him to take care of you.”

  Maybe it’s just me, but I swear I can hear the words, “I’m here to take care of you now,” hanging between us. I shut the thought down.

  Riot rolls over onto his back and glances at the clock. I follow his eyes. It’s almost five in the morning. Sadness pulls at my heart. Less time with him.

  “Go to sleep now, sweet thing. I’ll take you home tomorrow. And don’t worry about Devil. I’ll bring him around.”

  It’s crazy, but I believe him.

  As I once more drift toward sleep in the warmth of Riot’s arms, I find myself clinging to him tighter than I ever have. Hearing what happened to his sister makes me feel all the more connected to him. I could see it in his eyes how much he loved her, feel the pain pounding off of him, the pain that compelled him to come out here to Ohio.

  I want to sooth his pain, fill the hole left in his heart by her death. My heart aches for him. It aches with something dangerously close to an emotion I shouldn’t be feeling.

  Tomorrow, we’ll be going back home. I only hope that when we have to go back to our lives, I’ll be able to walk away.

  6

  Run, Red, Run

  Sunlight stabs at my eyelids sometime later. I blink my eyes open and glare at the window. Muted daylight floods in, and I moan and roll over, burrowing under the covers. I pat the bed beside me, but find it empty.

  “Riot?” I lift my head, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he went to get a coffee from the hotel kitchen or something. Then I look at the clock. It’s going on twelve. He’s let me sleep until almost noon? I never sleep this late.

  Outside the window, the snow is higher than ever. The roads don’t look plowed. The wind howls, rattling the windowpane, and if anything, the storm is worse. Snow still blows, obscuring the hotel lot. We won’t be making the three hour trip to the clubhouse today.

  Which means I still have another whole day to enjoy with Riot. I hum in satisfaction and bury my face in his pillow, enjoying the spicy, smoky smell of him.

  Sitting up, I check my phone.

  There’s a message from Riot, sent a few minutes ago. Curious, I open the message.

  Rise and shine, sweet thing.

  I grin, sending back a response.

  Go away. The princess is sleeping.

  A minute later, his reply pops up. His response makes my brows shoot up.

  Are you still naked, brat?

  Heat floods my cheeks. I’m as naked as I was when we went to sleep last night. The question, and the dominance with which he asks it, has my pussy clenching. What am I going to do with that man? A few texts and he already has me aching for him.

  The urge to tell him what he wants to know leaps up. Christ, what the hell has happened to the tough, take no shit girl who eats men for breakfast?

  I’m not about to pass up the chance to toy with my bossy biker.

  Wouldn’t you like to know. Where are you?

  His reply is instant.

  None of your business, woman. I asked you a question.

  My skin flushes with the threat that seems to ooze from those words. I let the phone drop to my lap and put my head back against the headboard as my mind fills with all the crazy, wild things he might do to me if I don’t tell him what he wants to know.

  Feeling daring, I bite my lip. What would he do if I showed him instead?

  Wow, this man’s affect on me is insane. I’ve always had a wild streak, but this?

  Picking up the phone, I throw back the blankets, spread out on the bed in all my glory, hold the phone above me, and snap a pic. I send it off, then type out a quick message.

  For your eyes only, Florida.

  Then I toss the phone aside as if it’s on fire, my face flaming.

  Seconds tick by. A reply doesn’t come back. A few more seconds pass, and still no reply. Nervousness makes my stomach tighten. Shit. Did I freak him out?

  Last night, he’d shamelessly fucked me in front of a window with that guy in his van watching. Still, maybe a nude pic sent to his phone where who knows who can see was going a little too far.

  Getting up and heading for the shower, I put my hand against my belly, but it does nothing about the butterflies going batshit in there. I try to tell myself that the message probably didn’t go through because of the storm, but it doesn’t help.

  A short time later, I come out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Steam rolls out around me as I rub my curls dry.

  There’s a knock on the door. “You decent in there?” Riot’s deep voice washes over me.

  “Come in.”

  The door opens and he steps in, balancing a tray with two cups of coffee from a shop, and a paper bag between them on his palm. He pushes the door shut and the lock clicks home.

  “Hi,” I say nervously.

  He smiles and bends down, snatching a kiss. “Morning, gorgeous.”

  “Aw, baby, did you bring me breakfast?” My stomach rumbles, and I reach for the tray, but he holds it out of reach.

  “Nope. You have to earn this.”

  “Pardon?”

  His eyes sparkle. “I brought you a present, little girl, but you’re not getting it until you make it up to me.”

  Oh, no. The only assumption I can make about his odd behavior is that it’s a reaction to the naughty pic. Except that doesn’t feel right somehow.

  “Riot, what are you talking about?”

  He puts the tray down and crosses his arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What?”

  “The text I sent you. I asked if you were naked.”

  “But I did answer.” My cheeks flare again at the memory of what I sent.

  “Huh.” He looks puzzled as he takes his phone from his pocket and checks it. “There’s no reply here.”

  I roll my eyes. “Figures. It probably didn’t go through.”

  He gives me a shrewd look.

  “Seriously. Honest, I did reply.”

  “It probably didn’t go through because of the storm.” He shrugs. “What did you say?”

  “Um.” I lick my lips, unable to meet his eyes.

  He crosses his arms again, cocking his head with a slow smirk that tells me he’s seen my flush.
“What did you do?”

  “I…” My eyes go to the ceiling, mortification rushing over me. “I sent you a pic.”

  His smile widens, the light in his eyes making it clear he can tell what kind of photo I sent. “Let me see.” He holds out his palm for my phone.

  I sigh, shake my head and grab my phone, opening the text exchange between us. The sexting that had been going on between us appears there, but there’s no pic. I furrow my brow.

  “What the fuck? It’s not here.”

  “Here, let me see.” He comes to stand beside me, his brows knitted. After we go through the messages and can’t find the photo, I drop my arms.

  “Nope, it’s not there. I guess you missed out.” I give him a shit eating grin.

  “That’s just cruel,” he grumbles. Then he grabs the takeout and sits on the bed.

  “I did send it, I swear.”

  “I believe you.” He chuckles. “You’re off the hook.” Riot hands me the paper bag. “Breakfast for you. Merry Christmas.”

  I open the bag and pull out a heavy, thick brick of Christmas cake. “Oh, I love this stuff! Thank you, baby.” I lean over, giving him a kiss.

  “Welcome. The kitchen in this place didn’t have much selection since most of the staff were sent home because of the storm, so I went out to a shop near here.”

  “What about you? Aren’t you hungry?”

  He shrugs. “I scarfed down a sandwich already.” He sets one of the coffees down for me and then opens his. The smell of fresh java hits my nose and I inhale deeply as I unwrap the Christmas cake.

  I break off a piece and pop it into my mouth, savoring the moist sweetness.

  I check for other messages and roll my eyes when I find an old picture of Clutch and I. It’s from before I left for Cali, taken when I was sixteen. In the image, we’re sitting on a swing on the front porch at his dad’s cabin on Tanner Lake. We’re both smiling, and Clutch has his arm around me in what at the time felt like a brotherly embrace.

  The memory of that incident with the car floats through my mind, souring the memory of the day that pic was taken, and making my fists tighten. “I need to get rid of that,” I say, glaring at the photo.

  “Get rid of what, babe?” Riot leans over for a look.

  I show him the image. “Clutch and me,” I explain.

  He takes the phone, looks at the screen and snorts. “Is that the little shit that got you in trouble with that car?”

  I smile at the protective venom in his voice as he looks over the image. A nervous amusement hits me. He seems to be committing Clutch’s dark hair and eyes, the slender shape of his youthful face and slim frame to memory. “He’s a scrawny little fucker, isn’t he?” He tears off a piece of Christmas cake and slips it into his mouth.

  I laugh. “He’s bigger now. He bulked up. And not every guy can be built like an Adonis like you, can they?” I give his impressive arms and chest an admiring caress.

  “An Adonis, huh?” His eyes sparkle as he steals another chunk of cake and slips it into his mouth.

  “Hey! Don’t eat my present!”

  He tosses my phone aside, grabs the cake and sets it and his coffee down on the nightstand. “I’d rather eat something else. Come here.”

  Riot grabs me around the waist and pushes me down across the bed, crushing me under his powerful frame.

  “Ah! Riot!” I giggle, swatting playfully at his shoulders and chest.

  He growls and bites my neck.

  I snatch a breath, my whole body clenching with need for him. Riot lifts his head and cups my jaw, turning my face to his. He steals a long, lingering kiss, and I moan into his mouth, kissing him back. When he lifts his head, the adoration, the completely lost look in his eyes floors me.

  Oh, God, he can’t be falling for me. He can’t. Not now. Not. Now.

  “Riot—”

  “Stay with me.”

  The words hit like a battering ram to my chest. My heart does a wild flip.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Don’t leave. Don’t go back to California.”

  For the umpteenth time since I met him, I feel my own life turning on its ear, my plans trying to shift themselves to fit him somewhere in a life that can’t have him.

  “Riot.” I draw his name out slowly.

  “No, come on, hear me out.” He taps my chest with his fingers. “We—”

  “No.” I push his hand away and shoot up from the bed. “You know what we agreed to. This was a temporary thing. No expectations, remember?”

  “I know.” His big shoulders drop. “I never had any intention of taking this further, but…” He rises to his feet, and when his eyes lock onto mine, they’re deep, hazel pools of an emotion I can’t place. “Something’s happened between us. You got under my skin, Red. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did.”

  He reaches for my face as if to push my hair back or touch my cheek. The tenderness in his eyes spears through me. That look frightens me more than anything this badass, seriously powerful biker could ever do to me.

  It frightens me because I want so badly to be with him, and I know that I can’t be with him and still be me. I can’t be with him without giving up my dreams.

  “I want this,” Riot says huskily, pushing my hair back from my face. “You can’t tell me I’m the only one that feels what’s between us. This, what we have, is bigger than one night. It’s bigger than us. It’s crazy, but I woke up this morning and looked at you in my arms, and… I don’t know.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “It’s fucking nuts, but I want to wake up with you every morning like that.”

  Oh, God, help me. My heart swells until I think it’s going to burst.

  “I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you, Red.”

  My eyes slide closed. “Riot, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He can’t be. He can’t.

  He sighs, looks at the ceiling and then at me. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  I drag in a breath and force the words out. “So you’re asking me to…” Fuck, I can’t even say the words.

  He cups the back of my neck. He looks shocked with himself, as if the path he’s going down has left him as taken aback as it has me. “Yeah, baby, I am.”

  Fuck. My mind becomes a tangle of emotions I can barely process. What he’s asking is crazy. Do I even feel the same way? Do I? How can I?

  But all I have to do is look at him, all I have to do is remember last night, the connection I felt with him, how perfect it felt lying in his arms, and I know. I’m right there with him.

  He said I was made for this life. For him, and as frightening as it is, those words have found a home in my heart. It’s crazy, but what he’s asking feels…right.

  I shake my head. This is exactly what happened to my mother. She had a great life all set out for herself, she had plans, and she let one wild night with a biker completely derail her. I won’t let that happen to me. I won’t turn into her.

  I step back from him, from his touch. “No,” I say forcefully, tamping down the loneliness that tugs at me. “Nothing happened, Riot. Nothing.”

  As soon as I say the words, I regret them. I see the pain they cause as he cocks his head, his hand freezing in mid-air, as if my words have once more stopped time itself.

  “What?” he says, and I can barely hear him.

  God, I have to shut him down now. Somehow, this big, beautiful, perfect man has fallen for me. It’s cruel, but the only solution is to push him as far from me as fast as possible. To shatter any feelings he has for me then and there.

  I drop my shoulders and put on my coldest mask of indifference. “So, okay, Riot, what did you think would happen? We’d have a couple of nights of wild fucking and then…what? Wedding bells? You thought I’d give up my plans for you?”

  He recoils as if I’ve slapped him. “Okay. I get it. I’ve scared you.”

  The word ‘scared’ hits a nerve for some reason. “Scared? Don’t flatter yourself, Riot. It takes a lot more
to scare me.”

  “No, I don’t think so.” He crosses his arms. “You’re scared, Red. I don’t know why, but you are, and you’re trying to push me away.”

  “I’m not scared. I just…” My heart squeezes, but I force the words out. Words it kills me to say. “Riot, I think you read more into this than there is. Last night was great, but that’s all it was. You were a good time, nothing more.”

  “Bull shit.” He stalks across what little space there is between us. I don’t even realize I’ve backed up until my back hit’s the hotel room door. He sets his palms on the door, to either side of my head, his arms penning me in. “What are you afraid of, Red?”

  “I told you, I’m not afraid, Riot,” I snap.

  “Yes you are. What is it? Is it Devil?”

  “No. I don’t care what my brother thinks. He doesn’t rule my life.”

  “Then tell me.”

  Unable to meet his eyes and face the future I see in them, I look away.

  Riot jerks my chin up so that there’s nowhere to look but at him. At the determination and possession that threatens to consume me. “If you aren’t afraid of what’s between us, then look at me. Look at me and tell me you feel nothing for me.”

  I lock my eyes onto his and set my jaw. “There’s nothing between us, Riot. I feel…I feel nothing for you.” But the words come out halting and forced.

  “Liar.”

  Damn it.

  He pushes off the door and shakes his head. When he faces me again, his expression is hard and determined. “I’m not letting you leave, Red.”

  The words slam into me. I let out a disbelieving, angry sound. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You’re not going back to California.”

  Instant, white hot anger bolts through me. I let my head fall back on the door. “Wow. You sound exactly like Devil now.”

  “Well, that changes nothing. You’re not leaving.”

  “And you’ll be stopping me how, Florida?”

  “For starters, as soon as we get back to the clubhouse, your brother and I are going to have a little chat. If you want to be there when I tell him about us, fine, but either way, he’s gonna know.”

  My stomach tightens at the thought of Devil’s reaction. Yesterday, he’d said he’d handle Devil, so I’d known he was going to tell him. But I’d agreed to letting Devil know there’d been something between us out of respect. I hadn’t agreed to the kind of permanent thing Riot is implying. I hadn’t agreed I’d belong to him.