Bound by Ravage

by Ryan Michele

  I can’t believe I’m doing this again. After the pain from last time, it still doesn’t stop me from driving the hour or so to meet Cooper the next Saturday in Cottondale.

  I stop at the restaurant and see him sitting on his bike, waiting for me. His nice ass is resting on the seat while his legs are extended out, crossed at the ankles. Damn, he’s hot. He’s wearing those mirrored shades that look so gorgeous on him, like they were made specifically for him. His jeans fit him perfectly, along with his T-shirt and leather. His long hair glistens in the slight breeze. He is a concoction that dampens panties around the world.

  And he’s here for me.

  I stop the car, turn off the engine, and before my hand touches the door handle, he’s there to do it for me. I rise out of the car, feeling his body heat from a few feet away, craving that close connection.

  Talking on the phone, learning about each other in a way that’s so new to me, having him this close is overwhelming as so many emotions filter through my body. Each one of those—the fear, the lust, the attraction—leads me to the conclusion that I want to see more of Cooper.

  Wishing upon a star has never been my thing, but I may have to give it a shot.

  “Hi.” Why is it that I feel stupid with that one little word? If something cooler would come to mind, that would be great.

  He says nothing, just wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush to his body. Then his lips attack mine, and I’m lost. Lost in him. Lost in the moment. Just lost. Everything in my brain stops, and my only focus is the man in front of me.

  This goes on for long moments, and I suck each one like a starving woman. When Cooper pulls away on a chuckle, I catch myself leaning into him, trying to follow his lips. How embarrassing, but I don’t care.

  He reaches over and grabs a helmet. “Put this on.”

  “You know that Florida doesn’t have a law on helmets,” I tell him.

  He quirks his brow. “And you know this how?”

  “Just the guys around here don’t wear one often.”

  “In Georgia, it’s law. You on my bike is law. Precious cargo,” he says with that sexy smile while my heart warms.

  I put it on without any retorts. After all, I’m precious cargo.

  It’s not my first time on a bike, but it will be my first time on a bike with a hot guy that I’m not related to.

  He moves to straddle the steel machine. “Get on.”

  I swing my leg over, thankful I have my chucks on and not flip flops. Cooper pulls my arms around him, and I hold on tight as he takes off like a shot. Having him so close to my body and the rumble of the bike wakes my girly bits up from a way too long nap.

  I want to ask him how he can ride again already after he rode such a long time here, but I can’t because of the wind in our faces. Instead, I hang on tight and enjoy the ride, letting the cool breeze wash away everything but him and me.

  Riding with a man is so much different than with my father or brothers. With Cooper, it’s an erotic feeling. The way the bike glides and turns, our bodies following. The way the curve of his back fits perfectly against my front, pressing into my breasts. Everything is so much better being on the back of his bike.

  Riding with Sinisters, I always craved to belong. Riding with Coop, I just do. There’s no trying involved.

  Cooper pulls back into the restaurant we originally came to and comes to a stop. While I loved being on his bike, it’s been a while and my legs feel a little jellied when I get off. He reaches out and steadies me, though, and once I have my shit together, he lets go, but laces his fingers with mine.

  “Let me feed you.”

  I can think of a lot of things I want to eat right now, but food isn’t one of them. Everything I want revolves around this man in front of me as he leads me into the very brightly lit place. Windows line the walls and florescent lights glare everywhere. This place is definitely not as cozy as the place before, but it is what it is. All I care about is spending time with Cooper.

  Cooper finds us a spot in the back, sitting with his back to the wall. He does the exact same thing my father and brothers do. I’ve been told they have to have eyes on the room at all times.

  “Like to sit by the wall?” I tease.

  “Nah, I just like to know what’s goin’ on.” He reaches over and grabs my hands. “You’re welcome to come over here and sit with me.”

  My body screams yes! but I stay where I am, knowing if I’m sitting that close to him, I won’t be able to not touch him. He’s too delicious not to, and after that kiss earlier, I want more. So much more. My body craves him with a need so deep it presses against my soul.

  A flirty waitress comes and takes our order. Before I know it, the food is in front of us, and I’m sad this is almost over. A few hours isn’t enough time. Even eating slow and having a great conversation isn’t long enough. It’s just not. It royally sucks.

  Cooper pays the check, and then we walk solemnly out to my car and his bike where he turns me and presses my body against the car, attacking me with his lips in the most delectable way.

  I pull away abruptly. “Stay with me tonight. Don’t go back. We can find a place, just you and me, and leave first thing in the morning.”

  He rocks back on his boots, hands still touching me. For a moment, I can’t believe those words just came from my lips, but I want it badly. From his expression, he doesn’t, which baffles me. He is a red-blooded male, and the way his lips attacked mine … He has to want this, too, right?

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. I need to get going.” I try to move away, feeling so damn stupid for even suggesting it. The foot in mouth syndrome hits yet again. I really should stick to text messages or just avoid people altogether.

  His grip gets tighter on my hips, stilling me. When I look into his eyes, they burn with an intensity that he’s kept from me in our brief encounters. Something devilish and intriguing that makes my knees weak.

  “Bristyl, if we go someplace private, I can’t guarantee I’ll keep my hands off you. It’s fuckin’ killin’ me to leave you as it is.”

  “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands off?” I rise up on my tiptoes and place a soft kiss against his mouth. “I want this, Cooper. Do you?”

  “Hell yeah.” He crashes his lips back down on mine and takes my breath away. Excitement and anticipation flood my system. “Follow close.”

  He hops on his bike, and I get in my car. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but it’s Cooper. The guy who stays up with me all night, talking about stupid shit he shouldn’t care about. I want this with him.

  I have nothing with me, which makes it all the more exciting. This impulsiveness to take what I want and not sit around, just thinking about it over and over like a movie reel.

  We stop at a hotel I didn’t see on the way. Cooper gets off his bike and waves for me to stay inside the car.

  Once he comes out of the office, I open the door and follow him. It’s a nice place. One of those hotel chains you see everywhere and on television.

  Cooper closes the door to the room, his focus on me. It makes me feel sexy and desirable, something I haven’t really felt before. Sex has always been a means to an end for me. Especially with my brothers acting the way they do. This feels different. It feels real, honest, caring.

  Then I remember. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  His lip rise. He better not say I’m cute. I just need to freshen up. Hell, I was on a bike for hours and need to make sure everything is good.

  He says nothing, so I slip into the all-white bathroom that holds the normal things—tub, sink, toilet. Lifting my arms, I smell myself. The deodorant is holding its own. Then I go pee and check everything down there. How embarrassing would it be if I sweat or something down there? Oh God.

  After a quick clean up with a damp washrag, I flush, wash, look at myself in the mirror, and jump back. My hair is everywhere. I didn’t even think to put it back before the ride, and this is the thanks I get for that o
ne.

  Running my fingers through the knots, it takes a while before I see the light at the end of the tunnel. My face is just going to have to work. No zits, so that’s a good thing.

  I’m such a dork. Only I would run into the bathroom when a hot guy looks at me like I’m his meal and worry about sweat. I’d bang my head against the door, but then he’d hear how big of a fool I am.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I open the door. The sight before me is compelling. Cooper is lying back on the bed, T-shirt and jeans on, boots and socks off, arms locked behind his head, looking as cool as a cucumber. Or, I should say, as hot as the desert. My mouth suddenly feels really dry.

  “Come here, beautiful.” He taps the bed next to him in invitation.

  I kick off my shoes and climb in. He positions me so my head is on his chest and arm around my body before he strokes my hair. I’m thankful I took the few minutes to get the knots out of it.

  His heart thumps in my ear at a rhythmic pace, calming me. This isn’t what I planned, but it’s nice. Relaxing almost to the point my eyes want to droop. Who knew he’d be such a great, warm pillow?

  I lift my head and rest my chin on his chest, not wanting to fall asleep and miss a moment of our time together. “Are you tired?”

  He pulls me completely on top of him, taking all my weight. “No.”

  Cooper kisses me, moving his hand around the back of my head and filtering his fingers through my hair. That one move is so damn sexy it spikes my arousal into overdrive. My legs spread wide, straddling him, while he brings his other hand to the side of my face.

  “The whole way here, I kept tellin’ myself I need to go slow.” This declaration shocks me. “Can’t, beautiful. I’ve had a raging hard-on since I saw you in that laundromat. There’s no waiting and no being gentle.”

  My heart thumps hard as it pumps blood throughout my body.

  “I just want you,” I whisper as he presses his lips to mine.

  14

  Cooper

  Going slow isn’t an option. I thought I could pull it off, but I was kidding myself. I have wanted this woman for weeks now. She’s all I think about, dream about, and long to talk to. She has a beauty that is unprecedented. Combined with her quirkiness and the way she makes me laugh, she’s an intoxicating woman.

  I flip her so she lies beneath me, and she moves her hands to the back of my shirt, sliding under the fabric. My body trembles at the contact.

  She’s never looked more beautiful than this moment, splayed beneath me with desire bright in her eyes. Lucky doesn’t even cut it. The fact that I’m here and not some other schmuck is a godsend. She’s too damn good to be true, but feeling her beneath me, she is.

  When I trail kisses down her jaw and neck, Bristyl’s hips grind up into me, only making my already painfully hard cock jump and twitch to get out. Then I reach down and pull her T-shirt up, exposing just a patch of skin, then more and more, until it’s off her body completely. The light pink lace bra is sexy as fuck and makes me wonder if Bristyl is innocent. She seems shy, but not to the point I’d call her a virgin. If she is, I hope she says something.

  Reaching behind her, I unclasp the bra and pull it from her plump breasts. The light pink tips of her areolas beg for me. Leaning down and taking a pebbled tip in my mouth, her back bows as she gasps. With my other hand, I massage her other breast, squeezing and pinching the tip, alternating my mouth on each of them. The softness of her skin makes my dick turn to stone.

  She threads her hands through my hair, gripping it tightly. I fucking love that. It’s one of my biggest turn-ons.

  I move to unbuckle her jean shorts, but she beats me to it, tugging them off roughly and tossing them, along with her panties, to the floor. I fully admit, one hundred and ten percent, I’m a pussy man. I can feast on one for hours and never get enough. With Bristyl’s pink lips staring back at me, there is nothing stopping me.

  Her taste explodes on my tongue, sweet and tangy, a drug. Yes, one taste, and it should be classified as an illegal substance to everyone, but me.

  “Oh, Cooper!” she yells, her hands back in my hair as I grip her thighs and eat—licking, nipping, and sucking.

  Her nub calls to me, and I wrap my lips around the hard flesh, sucking hard as she screams and explodes on my face. I don’t stop, not even when her hips buck so hard it threatens to knock me back. Working her down, I then lift my head to watch her pant for breaths, her eyes closed with ecstasy written all over her. Fucking beautiful.

  Standing up, I strip and grab the condom out of my wallet. It’s the only one I have, which really sucks, but now is not the time to focus on that.

  I put it on quickly before climbing back on the bed and pulling her up to straddle me, her eyes flashing open.

  “I want you to ride me. Show me what my bike did for you.”

  A sexy as hell smirk spreads across her lips. “You sure you want that,” she teases, tracing my pec with her finger, and then down my abs.

  “Fuck yeah.”

  “You asked for it.” She lifts then ever so slowly wraps her warmth around my cock, squeezing the very breath from me. Tight. No, she’s a fucking vice. Maybe I should have loosened her up some more so it doesn’t hurt.

  Somehow, she seats herself all the way on my shaft. I wait for her to say it’s painful, yet she doesn’t.

  “You’re so big. I feel you everywhere.”

  I buck my hips in an aroused response.

  She brings her hands to my chest, knees planted on the bed, and she rides. Up and down. Down and up. She circles her hips to the right, then swirls them to the left, and begins this vicious pattern, integrating it with up and down movements. The blaze inside me roars to life. I know for damn sure this isn’t her first time, but I shut that thought right down.

  I rise up, our chests flushed, and kiss her hard before rolling us over. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. My hips thrust hard over and over, and she meets me at every movement, making it feel so much better.

  “Cooper, I’m coming!” she screams.

  Her walls contract around me, making the already tight space suffocating. Her pussy sucks the come from my cock, while my legs strain as I push my cock inside her as far as humanly possible, all thoughts of breathing gone. Then we still together.

  This connection is life altering. It’s everywhere. Her. Me. Us. It’s so incredibly strong that it shakes me to my core.

  Falling to the side, my cock slips out of her. I scoop her panting body into my arms and hold her as tightly as I possibly can. Nothing in the world exists in this moment. Nothing. Only Bristyl and me. Only this connection we share. I have never felt closer to a person, not ever.

  I lightly stroke Bristyl’s hair, waiting for her to open her eyes. Once she does, I see something in there shining brightly. I’ve never had it before, so I don’t want to assume anything. Assuming things gets a man killed. Facts, one can survive on.

  “That was …” she starts, unable to form words.

  I have to agree with her. “Yeah.”

  Seeing a box of tissues on the nightstand, I remove the condom and toss it to the floor, not wanting to leave her for a minute. Then I pull her tighter to me, grab the comforter, and flip it on us so we are in a cocoon of warmth. It doesn’t take long before we fall fast asleep.

  Shots are fired in every direction. My mother goes down with a thump as I lay, covering a woman who’s bleeding out everywhere. Looking down, Bristyl’s lifeless body stares back at me.

  I jolt upright, looking around the room. A body flies off me as I take in the space. Hotel. Bristyl. Shit.

  I flip the light on to see her pulling the hair away from her groggy face, half on the bed, half off.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Grabbing her, I hold her close. She’s alive. She’s safe. She’s here. The relief is so damn overwhelming it threatens to strangle my breaths.

  “Just a bad dream.”

  I allow her warmth to heat me, taking me away from the nightmare.
Her touch pulls me away from the fear, which doesn’t hit me often. Seeing Bristyl dead … that’s a horrible fear.

  “Do you have those often?”

  “I have them quite a bit.” Admitting that is hard. No one knows about them. I’ve been able to hide them from the guys and women—no woman has ever spent the night beside me to learn of them. Weakness. That’s what I tell myself. Having the guys or anyone know about them isn’t in the cards. Yet Bristyl knowing feels right.

  “Want to tell me about them?”

  “No,” I answer immediately, not wanting to tell her that I held her lifeless body in my hands inside that cloud. “But I will tell you where they come from.”

  “I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me.”

  Inhaling the cool air, we tangle our legs together, bodies flushed. “When I was young, like, really little, a man came into the Ravage clubhouse holding a gun to my grandmother’s head. Not only that, he shot my mother. I saw it all, and the woman protecting me had to cover my mouth so I wouldn’t scream. My dreams come from that.”

  “Oh, Cooper.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want pity; that’s not why I told you. I did because I trust you with that information and to keep it right here, between you and me.”

  “Absolutely. Is your mom and grandma okay?”

  I squeeze her a little tighter. “Yeah. They are.”

  “Good. And you’re safe, so that’s all that matters.” She presses into me, her head on my chest, arms around my body. All I can think is and so are you.

  “You said that Princess isn’t really your mom? I don’t understand.” Her words are soft and comforting.

  I glide my hand up and down her back as the weight of years lays on my shoulders. “Not biologically, but in every other way possible. My incubator, as my mother calls her, was a drug addict. My father told me a few things, but both he and my mom kept a lot from me, saying they didn’t want to taint my life with my biological mother’s shit. Her name was Mel, and she didn’t love me. All the memories I have of her are bad.”