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

by Raven Dark

  Once we’re in the stairwell, I flick on the light bulb hanging from the ceiling and shut the door to the basement, just in case. Badger is nosy, after all.

  “Problem, sweet thing?” Riot says. Then he sets his hands on my hips and pulls me slowly against him. “Or did you just want an excuse to be alone with me?”

  Warmth spreads through me at his touch. God, I missed this.

  I tamp down the longing that fills me and shove his hands off. “No, you don’t get to call me that anymore. Look, Riot, remember that pic I sent to you? The one of me?”

  “Sure.” His lips quirk.

  “Well, I know why you didn’t get it. I…”

  He cocks his head.

  I lick my lips, my cheeks hot. “Devil got it by mistake.”

  Riot’s head rolls back and a laugh shakes out of him. His eyes twinkle. “Oops.”

  I glare at him, putting my hands on my hips. “Oops? I spent twenty minutes in that office being ripped into for sending you that pic, Devil’s ready to kill you, and that’s all you have to say—oops?”

  He shrugs. “You should know by now, I don’t scare easily. Besides, you’re worth dying for.”

  Worth dying for? My teeth clench. Why is it that arrogant guys like him know exactly what to say when a girl’s pissed off? How am I supposed to be mad at him when he talks like that?

  “Oh my God, you are insane.” I snarl.

  “Take it easy, sweetness.” He touches me under the chin. “He’s not going to kill you’re man.”

  My fists ball up. “You are not my man.”

  “We’ll see. I told you I’d get him on board, and I will eventually.”

  He pushes the door open and I watch in something between wonder and annoyance as he walks off, his long strides eating up the floor between the stairs and Devil’s office.

  Ugh. What the hell have I gotten myself into? The easy solution to this whole thing would be to march myself over to Devil right now and tell my brother to make him back off. That would end this mess right quick. So why aren’t I doing it?

  Why?

  Worse, he must know I wouldn’t do that, or he wouldn’t be pushing my buttons.

  Riot steps into Devil’s office and the door closes.

  I’m not even back in the kitchen ten feet away when it starts.

  Devil’s voice bellows through the door.

  “What the fuck man… My sister…. My fucking sister… Do you have any idea what you’ve done…” I catch something about a nude pic, and Riot’s age, my being too young to know what I want, and then several death threats.

  I shake myself violently, hating the empathy I feel for Riot. I’m supposed to be glad he’s getting what’s coming to him, so why the hell do I feel so bad?

  Anne whistles, her eyes wide as she passes me a cupcake to decorate. Sandra winces. Barbie glares at Badger and the guys, who are all chuckling quietly.

  Riot’s calm voice rumbles something in the middle of Devil’s tirade, but I can’t make it out. Whatever it is, it makes Devil madder, because he’s almost hollering now.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, coming into my fucking club… You’ve got some balls, Nicky, if you think you can mess with her.”

  I don’t miss the emphasis on the word Nicky. I give Badger a look and he comes over. “Why is he calling him Nicky? That’s not his real name, is it?” If it is, he’s going to lose some major man points.

  Badger shakes his head, his voice low. “Naw. His real name is Nick. Devil just calls him that to get under his skin.”

  Well, it doesn’t seem to be working. I still can’t make out a word Riot says, but his voice is the same calm, even, rational tone as it started with. If I know Devil, that’s only going to piss him off more.

  There’s a loud thump that sounds as if Devil slammed his fist on his desk.

  “Just stay the fuck away from my sister, Riot. You hear me? Stay away from her, or I’ll put you in the ground. Get the fuck out of my office, before I throw you out of this clubhouse and out of this club.”

  I let out a long breath and lean on the table with my head in my hands. Barbie and Sandra rub my back soothingly. Man, I love these women.

  If anything, Devil’s ordering Riot to stay away should make me feel better. Now he can’t fuck with my life and interfere with my plans for the future.

  So why am I almost as mad at Devil now as I was with Riot a minute ago? And why does Devil’s laying down the law only make me feel like I’ve lost something that was never really mine?

  The door opens and Riot walks out of the office. When I see him, I almost drop my jaw, following him with my eyes. These guys are too manly to show real fear around my brother, but Riot should be sweating or something. Instead, when no one is looking, he winks at me and ambles off as if nothing has happened.

  Shit, I could kill him. Especially when I can’t take my eyes off of him.

  Devil follows him out, and his glare makes it clear he’s aware I was staring at Riot as if my eyes were glued to him.

  “You’re not going to make me kill that guy, are you?” Devil growls at me.

  My brother doesn’t wait for me to respond before he storms into his office and slams his door.

  Fuck, I need to get the hell out of this town. January can’t come soon enough.

  The next week passes by in a blur of activity and holiday hubbub.

  The last two weeks before Christmas are always hectic in an MC, and Hell’s Heathens is no exception. A number of the guys who stay at the clubhouse most of the year prepare to leave for the holidays on visits with family abroad, and a few of the others make preparations to leave on holidays to warmer climates, eager to get out of the cold weather that makes life on the back of a Harley all but impossible. They’ll stay with other Chapters while they’re away.

  Only the members who have to stay behind because of club business are remaining in the clubhouse over Christmas, which is less than a quarter of them. On top of that, the preparations for the toy drive and other charity events have everyone’s hands full.

  The craziness of the holidays has several bright sides for me.

  One, Devil’s made sure to keep me too busy to think about much else, including Riot. Anne and Sandra and I spend most of the time either rushing around picking up donations from Whiskey’s stores, or baking goods for the local shelters, and for the huge party that takes place a few days before Christmas. And two, as usual, Devil is almost never around.

  I feel like a shit for not wanting to be around my brother during Christmas, but he’s never easy to get along with, and this whole mess with Riot has made him positively unbearable. The rare times he does see me, he only growls at me in passing or grumbles under his breath, rarely saying two words to me.

  I’m starting to wonder if he heard a word I said that day we argued. Maybe he’s feeling betrayed at my having been with Riot, or maybe I’ve hurt him by telling him he didn’t care. Whatever the case, if anything, he’s been more distant than ever since our row.

  Which brings me to another silver lining. Riot isn’t around much either, especially since half the time, when Devil goes out on club business, he conveniently finds a reason for Riot to go with him. I’d have to be a fool not to see what he’s doing. He’s making sure Riot and I cross paths as little as possible.

  All of this makes it easy to avoid Riot, but it’s not as if I never see him. When I do, I always find some reason to go elsewhere. Unfortunately, I think my ignoring him is pissing him off.

  He’s tried to corner me or get me alone several times in the last week, and I’ve been lucky enough to always find some reason to get away. The thing is, every time he sees me, he seems more determined. The way he stares at me across a room, like he’d devour me the moment he’s given the chance, the way he makes sure to stand near me when we’re in the same room, always makes my skin hum with awareness of him, even when he isn’t touching me. There’s an intensity that pounds off him when gets close, so that sometimes the tensio
n between us feels like a powder keg about to go off.

  Sometimes, I swear if he touches me, we’ll both go up in flames.

  It’s gotten so bad that I’ve spent entire nights tossing and turning in my room at the back of the clubhouse with my whole body aching to feel his hands on me. I’ve gotten off almost every night just to keep myself from going to his room on the other side of the clubhouse and riding him until we both come apart.

  And there in lies the downside. If Devil’s ordering us to stay away from each other was supposed to be a deterrent, it’s having the opposite affect. At least for me, it makes me want him more.

  Isn’t it funny how, when you can’t have something, it’s being off limits only makes the need for it worse?

  One morning in the middle of December, I go down to use the guy’s shower, since all this damned snow and ice has frozen the pipes in the women’s bathroom. I scurry to the bathroom before one of the guys can snag it, and who should be coming out of it but the man I’ve been trying my level best to avoid for over a week.

  As soon as he sees me, he gives the briefest glance down the hall, which, much to my misfortune, is otherwise empty. Somehow, I get the feeling he’s not going to stay away, whatever Devil said. And, that he’s not scared of my brother, but rather that he’s choosing his time out of respect for the shit Devil’s dealing with, waiting to press the issue of us when the time is right.

  There are a handful of guys still staying here over the holidays, all of them usually needing the washroom or carousing in the halls at any given time, and not one of them is anywhere near the bathroom now?

  “See, sweet thing, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” Riot says with a wicked smile, blocking the door to the bathroom.

  Heaven help me, why, oh why does he have to look so good? Wrapped in a towel with his hair darkened with moisture and all his tatted muscles on perfect display, he looks like a fucking underwear model.

  Or an angel. A wet, hot as hell, arrogant angel.

  I hold my pile of clothes and a bag full of toiletries to my chest like a shield. “Go away, Riot.”

  He chuckles and touches my chin. “Missed you too, Red.”

  My belly quivers, my skin tingling.

  “I hope you didn’t use all the hot water, Nicky.” I put a heavy dose of emphasis on the name.

  His eyes dance. “Make fun of my name if it makes you feel better, Red, but you won’t be doing that the next time I fuck you. You’ll be screaming it.”

  Damn it, does nothing faze this man? Why does he have to be so comfortable in his own skin? I can’t even piss him off properly.

  “There isn’t going to be a next time. Devil will kill you if you try.”

  “I told you, I’ll bring him on board. You’ll see.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “Still hiding behind your brother, I see.”

  That ticks me off. I am not a coward who would ever use Devil as a shield. “I need the shower. Get out of my way.”

  He chuckles and steps aside to let me pass, but barely allows enough room. When I march past him, my hand brushes his abs and I feel the hardness of his muscles against my fingers, making my heart skip.

  As soon as I’m inside, he steps in and stalks over to me. My back hits the shower door, rattling the glass.

  Again, Riot gives the barest hint of a look at the empty hall.

  Then he reaches up, gripping the top of the shower’s sliding door, positioning his huge frame so that it’s a wall of power and heat that surrounds me.

  “Riot, what are you doing?” The pleading in my voice is annoying. So is the way it’s hushed, as if part of me doesn’t want anything to interrupt us. “Just go.”

  He bends, running the tip of his nose along the side of my neck. “You still smell good, Red. Like apples and cinnamon or something. I like it.”

  My chest rises and falls on ragged breaths. Throat dry, I put my head back and swallow, waiting him out.

  He draws back and twines a lock of my red hair around his finger. “You can’t avoid me forever sweetness.”

  “Yes I can.”

  His teeth flash in a smile. “We’ll see. I’ll be thinking of you tonight.”

  He walks out, shutting the door behind him and leaving me standing there with my sex aching.

  My eyes close. How in the hell am I supposed to resist that man for two more weeks?

  9

  Creep

  I see little of Riot over the next few days, but when I do, I say as few words to him as possible, and always quickly find an excuse to leave. I hate that I’m ignoring him, but being around him is too painful when all I want to do is feel his arms around me. I’m being a coward, I know, but it’s either stay away from him or risk caving and giving in to what we both want.

  Devil’s insistence on putting me to work might be irritating, but it keeps me occupied and leaves little time to worry about Riot. It’s a week until Christmas, so there’s plenty to do.

  On the Saturday afternoon after that encounter with Riot in the bathroom, Sandra and I head out to Toys and Stuff, a store in Whiskey that always gives lots of donations for the yearly drives. Eager for a chance to get out and about for a while, Anne comes along with a reluctant promise not to overwork herself and to let us do all the heavy lifting.

  The storms have finally backed off, the temperature high enough that the snow has started to melt. The roads are slushy, but not too bad if we go slow.

  “Sandra, you don’t have to drive this slooow,” Anne complains from the back seat as we drove down the street toward the store in quiet, boring downtown Whiskey. Her playful smile takes all the bite out of her words. “The speed limit out here is thirty, not five.”

  “I’m trying not to hit every bump on this damned road,” Sandra grumbles, giving her pregnant friend a worried look when the car hits a pothole and bounces. “That baby must be miserable with the way we keep jostling around.”

  “Ugh. I can’t wait to have this baby. Then everyone can stop mollycoddling me.”

  I snicker at their friendly bickering. “You do drive slower than an old lady,” I tell Sandra.

  “Get offa my lawn!” Sandra makes her voice high and squeaky and shakes an imaginary cane.

  We erupt into a fit of giggles.

  “Besides, I am an ol’ lady,” she adds with a smirk at me.

  “That’s lame.” But I laugh.

  Someone behind us honks impatiently.

  “See?” Anne says. “Move it, Sandra.”

  She sighs and speeds up. The driver squeaks past us with a glare, and Sandra shakes her head. “I’m supposed to be a biker chick now. Does that mean I should give him the finger or something?”

  “Sure,” I half tease, just to be a shit.

  “Red,” Anne squeaks. “Don’t you dare.”

  “You guys are such wet blankets,” I joke. When they both look at me worriedly, I hold up my hands. “Relax, I’ll be a good girl.”

  We pull up at the store and into the lot a few minutes later. A black SUV, one of those fancy foreign ones like Dave’s dad drives, follows in behind us. The driver toots his horn, and I look back. As soon as I see who’s behind the wheel, my gut clenches.

  “Shit.”

  “What?” Following my gaze, Anne looks over her shoulder at the vehicle.

  “Clutch.”

  He gives me a too-wide smile and waves as if we’re old friends. As if he didn’t almost land me in jail.

  I mask an unsettled shiver with a glare of annoyance. “Really?”

  Sandra’s head snaps around to me. “Wait, is that the guy who stole that car and got you into shit with the cops?”

  “Yeah.”

  She glances back at him, then at me. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  “It doesn’t matter, just ignore him and keep going.”

  I’d rather throttle him, but he’s not worth making trouble over. I’ve seen him draw his rich dad and the law into things when someone crosses him, and since his famil
y has money, the cops tend to do what his dad wants.

  We grab a parking space at the back of the lot. It’s is filled with cars, Christmas shoppers rushing to snap up the holiday sales. As soon as we park, Clutch’s SUV slides in beside us.

  “Red.” Sandra nods to him as he gets out.

  “Yeah, I see. Fuck.”

  Sandra shuts off the car, watching him. Clutch makes a big production of shutting his door and activating the vehicle’s alarm, then pocketing his keys.

  Is he waiting for me? How in the hell had I considered him a friend?

  “He’s sort of annoying, isn’t he?” Anne says.

  “Just a little,” I reply.

  “Anne, we’ll be back in a few minutes.” Sandra climbs out of the car.

  “Hey, beautiful.” Clutch comes over to me as soon as I shut my door.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Clutch?” I snap.

  “I came to get something for my niece for Christmas. Look, I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted that day, and for getting you mixed up in that shit with the car.”

  Unfortunately, he has every right to be there, so I can’t say much about it. This is the shitty thing about living in an area where the towns are all so small that there’s only one of everything within several hours of each other. This is the best toy store within five towns. He lives in Whiskey, so running into him eventually was inevitable.

  Devil just had to give me this town, didn’t he?

  “Fine, you apologized. Get out of my face.”

  “Aw, come on, sweetheart, don’t be such a tightass. I said I was sorry. Let me take you out for coffee to make up for it.”

  “You don’t take hints well, do you? Let’s go, Sandra.”

  The slow smile that stretches Clutch’s lips makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “Right.” He backs away too slowly. “I guess I’m not biker enough for you.”

  Seriously?

  Sandra comes around to my side, her eyes locked on him as he takes his time heading for the front of the store. “I don’t like him, Red,” she says quietly.