by Raven Dark
“Oh, he isn’t worth worrying about. He just thinks he’s all big and bad.” Still. I turn and open the back door. “Anne, maybe you’d better come with us after all. I don’t want you sitting out here by yourself with Clutch here when he’s being a pissy little bitch.”
I’ve seen him key a person’s van for bumping his precious car before, and he’s threatened people for less than what I just said. That was two years ago, and I’d thought he’d straightened himself out, but since he still steals cars, there’s no way of knowing how much of the old Clutch is still in there. I’m probably overreacting, but I’m not taking chances with a woman in Anne’s condition.
We go into the store to see if the staff has the toys ready. One of the loading boys at the back sends us around to the loading dock to collect them. Sandra and I leave Anne at the dock with the staff so she can sit and rest while we go and get the car.
We don’t see any sign of Clutch on the way back to the lot. It bothers me that I keep looking around for him.
At the front entrance of the store, I notice a flyer on the window with an image of Santa on a Harley, not unlike the one in the clubhouse. The flyer reads:
In partnership with Hell’s Heathens Motorcycle Club, Toys and Stuff is donating to local hospitals, homeless shelters, and other venues to support children in need. To donate toys and give a child a better Christmas this year, contact the number below.
Toys and Stuff sends our many thanks to all the riders of the Hell’s Heathens.
The last line has my phone number as a contact.
“That’s so cool,” Sandra says, smiling at the flyer on our way out.
“I know. It’s nice to know that not everyone in this town thinks we’re lowlife scum.”
At the car, I catch sight of something sitting on the front windshield. “What the hell is this?”
I bend over, peering at a small teddy bear with a heart in its paws and a Santa hat on its head. Both the bear and a note are pinned under the windshield wiper, the bear held there by a ribbon tied around its neck.
Sorry, the note reads. Don’t be a stranger.
“Seriously?” I snarl, glancing around the lot.
“Clutch?” Sandra drawls, looking unsettled. “Wow, he’s starting to creep me out.”
I crumple the note up and throw it and the bear into the nearest trash can. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just an immature little idiot.”
“Want me to tell Gar?” she asks. “He’ll straighten Clutch out.”
“Fuck, no. Don’t bother the boys with this. They have enough shit to deal with right now. Clutch is just a pissy little shit, and he’s my problem. I’ll handle it.”
The last thing I need is to give Devil another reason to keep me here and watch me like a damned hawk until I leave.
Snatching another look around the lot, I don’t see Clutch anywhere.
I get into the car with Sandra, suppressing a shudder.
A couple of hours later, we pull into the clubhouse garage. Anne groans as she gets out of the car and knuckles her back. Sandra helps her toward the door that leads to the inside of the clubhouse.
“Here, Sandra, give me the keys,” I tell her. “I’ll get the toys and lock up.”
“Thanks.” She tosses me her car keys and helps Anne inside.
I grab a few of the boxes out of the trunk.
A bike engine growls behind me and I turn. Riot pulls his motorbike in behind Sandra’s car and cuts the engine.
“And here we are alone again, sweetness,” he says.
His rich voice washes over me, smooth as fine wine and heating my blood. Why does he have to look so good in all that black leather? Sitting astride the bike, he looks like wickedness on wheels, the big motorbike a living, breathing extension of him.
It’s funny how if Clutch had said exactly the same thing, it would have made me sick to my stomach, but coming from Riot, the words have me imagining us sneaking hot, passionate kisses in dark corners and long, slow fucking in his bed.
God help me, the man is like crack. One hit, and I’ll be hooked on him all over again. It’s worse that we’re the only ones in the garage, and no one is on the drive leading up to it. I can hear the voices of some of the guys in the distance. They’re coming from the front porch, and none of the men are close enough to see us and run to Devil.
It’s the perfect opportunity to…
I force myself to say nothing and march for the door.
“Let me help you with these.” He heads toward me.
“Suit yourself.” I’m not going to be petty and stop him, especially when I know I couldn’t.
“Still the silent treatment, huh?” Riot grabs the boxes from me.
Shaking my head and saying nothing, I grab the rest of the toys from the trunk and lock it.
Behind me, I hear him set his boxes down. Next instant, he seizes my arm and spins me around.
“Riot.” I meant to snap at him and push him off, really I did, but instead, my voice comes out low and shaky. The electricity shooting up my arm seems to have fused us together, because I can’t move.
Hell, I can’t even breathe.
One of those sexy smirks plays with his mouth as he takes the boxes from me. He sets them down. Then he puts his finger to his lips and stalks to the wall by the garage door.
“Riot, don’t.” Again, there’s no voice in it. Need threads through that single word like fire.
He presses the button on the garage door and it winds down.
“Shut the door.” He nods at the door to the inside.
That single command has an incredible amount of power. It sends a bolt of pure heat through me, making my legs so weak I’m sure they’ll fold on me. My heart hammers in my ears, and every inch of my sex flames.
Somehow, I have the wherewithal to shake my head. “You don’t get to threaten to keep me from leaving the MC against my will and try to control my life, and then act like we’re the happy couple, Riot.”
“Against you’re will?” he growls under his breath. “Don’t make me sound like such an ogre. If at least part of you didn’t want to stay with me, I wouldn’t have said I was keeping you.”
“Yes you would have.”
“Shut the fucking door, Red.”
I close my eyes. I should be running far away from him. I glance at the door. I’ve never felt so torn in all my life. Everything in me burns to feel his hands, his mouth on me.
I walk to the door and I hear him cross the room behind me, his footsteps closing in.
Standing there, the choice looms. Here and now, I could leave him behind and disappear into the clubhouse, or I could shut the door and give us both what we’ve been longing for.
I draw a sad sort of breath and push the door shut.
It’s barely closed when Riot reaches out, flips the lock over, then grabs my arm and spins me around to face him.
My gaze collides with his. The dark, hungry lust in his eyes makes me swallow hard.
“Just because we do this now doesn’t mean I’m yours, Riot. It’s just—”
Just what? I thought I could say it, tell him that it would mean nothing, but I know it isn’t true. Cheapening this wild need between us feels more painful than I’ll ever admit.
“A good time?” he rumbles, using the words I labeled him with at the motel.
“That’s right.” Damn it, that came out a lot more shaky than I meant it to.
“Don’t play the wild girl with me, Red. That’s not the game we’re going to play right now.”
“Riot—”
Without warning, he pushes me against the door, pinning me there with his frame. His head swoops in, and his lips find mine, devouring them.
I swear, I meant to shove at his chest, but instead, my fists seize the front of his cut, and the next moment, my tongue is tangling with his. Riot crushes me against him with a hungry growl and pries my mouth open with his.
The kiss it bruising and hot and instantly electrifying. The power thi
s man has over me is infuriating. Furious at him for making me want him, I bite his lip.
A soft laugh rumbles from him. Riot kisses me harder and hoists me onto his hips easily, jerking my legs around him. His lips and tongue leave a trail of wicked fire along my neck before he pulls my jacket and shirt from my shoulder. His teeth scrape the skin, the same place he bit before. Somehow, I swallow the cry that might send the club members running and banging on the door.
“Do you even care that Devil would kill you if he came in here right now?” I rasp, nipping his ear.
“I told you, you’re worth dying for.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.” He sucks on my neck it makes me wetter.
I cling to him with my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, wrapping myself up in him. He’s such a control freak, and yet this man has never made me feel freer. It’s a kind of freedom I can’t put into words, the kind it feels like I’ve been longing for it forever.
Right now, there is no Devil, no club rules that keep us apart. There are no plans to go to Cali that make being with him impossible, no decisions to make. Right now, Riot rules me, and I want him to.
“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He licks my ear.
I nod, panting.
Riot turns and strides effortlessly toward the car. He sets me on the still warm hood.
“Someone could come in here at any second. Devil has the key to that door.” My words come out breathless. Somehow the thought of getting caught makes me want him more. I start to undo his belt with trembling fingers.
His eyes twinkle. “Does that excite you, Red?” He flicks my hands away, and then his palm shoves me down until I’m lying across the hood, spread out for him.
Oh, fuck, does it ever. I can practically hear the lock turning, keys rattling, and my heart hammers, pumping fire through my veins.
In answer, I let my arms fall on the hood above my head. Riot makes a hungry sound.
“Shit. You’re so goddamned sexy.” He spreads my legs, jerks me closer to him, and rubs himself shamelessly against me. His hard cock rubs my sex through his leather pants just right, grinding against my clit and making me squirm into him. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think about me.” His thumb traces my lips.
“I didn’t think about you,” I say half to be a shit, half because I wish the hell it was true.
“You’re a fucking liar, Red.” He grinds harder into me, possessive and hungry.
“Sue me.”
The sound that leaves him is somehow both threatening and hotly erotic.
“I’ve been as hard as a rock for you the last two fucking weeks.” He jerks my shirt and bra up so that my breasts spill out, palms them and sucks each nipple until my back bows. “Jerking off every night, and then I’m hard again five minutes later.”
“Fuck, Riot.” The confession and the boldness with which he gives it makes me wild for him. I rake my hands through his hair, bringing his mouth closer.
He grabs my wrists and flattens my arms out across the car to either side of me.
“Don’t touch me,” he growls. He’s still grinding mercilessly into me.
I make a helpless sound, but leave my hands on the hood.
“Good girl. Fuck, I missed you.”
Everything in me screams to tell him that I missed him too. That I’ve been aching for him almost non stop, going crazy every time I see him. I bite my lip to keep from saying a word.
Riot makes quick work of my pants, tugging them and my panties off. I’m so wet he can probably see it. He pushes my legs to his hips and I hear his belt buckle clink, his zipper go down.
Then he stops and his hands shackle my wrists.
“Tell me you want me, Red.”
But saying that would feel too much like giving up the life I’ve been working so hard for, the dreams I can’t let him take from me. It’s too much like admitting he has control of me. I meet his eyes, my jaw tight.
Riot’s cock teases my entrance and I moan softly.
“Tell me you want me.”
“Never.”
He growls and thrusts into me hilt deep. I cry out, and my heart threatens to beat its way out of my chest.
“Riot, damn it.”
He clamps his hand over my mouth. The sudden aggression of such a threatening action sends a crazy mix of delicious fear and need through me that I make a wild keening sound against his palm.
He fucks me slowly at first, sliding in and out. My pussy clenches around him, and I whimper. Every stroke takes me higher. His hand clamps tighter, and he pushes my head back, stripping me of further control. I growl against his palm, and it’s a small, helpless, muted sound that makes me hotter.
Keeping his hand in place, he jerks each of my legs up onto his shoulders, bringing my pussy to a better angle for him. Taking any last hope of control from me. In the half-darkness of the garage, Riot’s eyes blaze, pure possession and lust. He moans in that sexy way of his, driving in and out.
“Mine, Red. All mine. Always.”
Damn it, I don’t want to be right there with him, feeling what he’s feeling, needing to be his, but I do. I can see forever in his eyes. I want it so bad it hurts.
“You’re never leaving me, Red. Never.”
I howl into his hand, half in effort to deny his claim, half in need. He grunts and his pace turns savage. Riot pounds me fast and hard, and the car rocks violently.
Fuck, he is so. Fucking. Hot.
I pant, flying apart with a long, helpless moan, thrashing.
“Fuck, yeah. Come for me. Show me you want it.”
He keeps pounding, and I come again, my hips bucking wildly.
Riot lets out a last moan and gives me a handful of thrusts then buries his face in my neck, grunting softly in release.
His hand slides away and his hot mouth sweeps over mine. “So damn perfect.”
Without him driving me wild, it hits me what we’ve done. I feel like a drug addict that’s taken the first hit after being sober for months. I feel as if he’s handed me the syringe.
Riot does up his pants and steps away, smirking.
That smile is so full of triumph and possession, so full of satisfaction that it infuriates me to no end. I jerk upright, yanking my clothes into place. “This changes nothing, Riot,” I say tightly.
“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, sweet thing. You’re already mine. The sooner you admit it, the happier an old lady you will be.”
“Old…Oh my God. Get. Out.”
“Only the formality is missing, sweet thing. All I have to do is bring your brother around.”
“Out!” I kick my foot out at him. He snorts and backs out of reach.
“Enjoy the rest of you’re day. Try not to think of me too much.”
He opens the garage door and ambles out across the snow-covered front lawn toward the porch as if this is the best day of his life.
Jesus Christ, I need to get the fuck out of this town!
Halfway to the porch, Riot stops and watches the dirt road as a black SUV drives up and stops in front of the clubhouse.
That’s Dave’s jeep, but what’s he doing here?
I start out of the garage toward him and Dave gets out with a wave to me.
“Hey there, Red. Got something for you.”
“Oh, you gotta be shitting me,” Riot snarls.
Then before I know it, he’s marching, back tight, huge fists clenched, across the lawn, right toward Dave.
“What the hell, Riot—”
“Whoa, what the fuck man?” Dave says, stepping back.
Riot’s arm swings back, and his fist slams right into Dave’s face.
10
Toys and Guns
The impact of Riot’s fist hitting Dave’s face head-on echoes with a loud, meaty thud. Disbelief and horror seize me, but since I’m still over ten feet away, there’s nothing I can do but watch it happen. As I close in, much too slow even though I’m running toward them, I see it as
if it’s on one of those slow-motion replays on TV. Riot’s fist collides, and Dave goes sprawling on the clubhouse lawn.
“What the fuck?” Dave shouts, getting to his feet. He holds his nose, and blood squirts between his fingers. “What’s you’re damage, man?”
“Riot!” I scream, rushing at him as he grabs Dave by the collar. “Riot, stop!”
What the hell has gotten into him, I have no idea, but half the clubhouse is gathered on the lawn now, watching the fight. My brother is there too, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He’s glaring at Riot, his eyes burning with such anger that I half expect Riot to go up in flames.
“Riot, what the hell are you doing?” I grab at his shoulder, trying to pull him away.
Riot shakes me off. “Clutch, right?” he growls. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t take your head off, boy.”
Clutch? Ohhhh no...
Dave shoves him off. “Wait, you think I’m—”
“Riot, he’s not—”
“Stay out of this, Red.” Riot holds me off with one arm out, his other fist around Dave’s collar. “Come near her again, you little shit, and I’ll put you in the ground.”
“Riot,” I shout. When he won’t let go, I grab him with all my strength and yank him back. When he finally looks at me, his eyes dark and blazing with possessive anger, I get between him and Dave and shove Riot backward. He barely staggers, but he’s let go of Dave.
“Red, get out of my way. He deserves everything he gets for what he did to you—”
“This isn’t Clutch, asshole.”
Riot goes very still, looking between Dave and me. “What?”
I turn to Dave, meaning to make sure he’s okay, but he just shakes me off. Blood has run from his nose down his mouth and chin. It splatters his nice white shirt with crimson. Keeping at a distance from Riot, he reaches into a back pocket of his jeans and pulls out my wallet. He slaps it into my hand.
Shit.
“Fuck,” Riot drawls.
“You might want to consider getting a better guard dog, Red,” Dave says. “See you.”
Then he turns and stomps off to his car, tearing off down the road before I can reply. As soon as Dave is gone, anger with Riot slams into me.