Temper: Road Roses MC

by Ada Stone

  I clenched my teeth tightly as I felt my release wash through me like an unstoppable wave. I emptied myself inside of her, jerking uncontrollably for long moments. Finally, as I came back to myself, I slipped out of her warm center and fell back on the bench in the dressing room. I felt like I needed a nap and about five steaks.

  Lia didn’t look like she was in much better shape. She slumped against the mirror, her eyes hooded, her legs shaking.

  Eventually, she straightened herself up. She pulled out the panties that I’d shoved in her mouth and shot me a look, letting them dangle from her forefinger. “Really?” she asked, but I could tell by the little smile playing on her lips that she wasn’t mad about it.

  I shrugged. “I like ’em. We’re definitely getting them.”

  At this, she let out a soft laugh. “Get out of here before the sales woman comes back,” she told me, pretending to be stern. “And find something for me to clean off with.”

  My eyes glanced between her legs where I knew I’d made a mess. It made me smirk. I shot her a satisfied smile. “Just put on your panties. We can clean up at home.”

  She made a face at me, but did as I suggested. Then she pointed to a pile. “That’s what I think I’m getting.” There were several different pairs of pants, a dress, and several blouses in addition to what looked like a single t-shirt, but I wasn’t sure. As an afterthought, she pointed to the lingerie that was still hanging on the hooks. “And those, too.”

  I knew it wasn’t going to be cheap, but I didn’t really care. The business was good—both sides of it—and I knew I could cover it. And if the rest of what she picked out looked anything like what she’d shown me so far, it would be worth every penny.

  “Fine. Let’s check out and get home. You need to get cleaned up.” I winked at her and she stuck her tongue out at me.

  Chapter Nine

  Amelia

  I stretched out my limbs, enjoying the cushy bed beneath me. A cushy bed which wasn’t mine. It took me a moment to blink away the surprise before I remembered all over again. I had gone to Luke’s home, asked him for help with taking care of the baby, then was derailed unceremoniously by the way he looked at me and the way he touched my body. Damn sexy man, I thought without the least bit of venom.

  Now I was lounging around in his bed, naked and sated. Mostly. I could probably be talked into another round if he were so inclined. Except that when I looked over at the space next to me, I noticed that Luke wasn’t there.

  I frowned. Did he have work or something?

  Getting up, I decided I should shower and dress. Despite having done incredibly dirty things in the dressing room—a no-no that was hotter than anything I’d done to date—I had managed to pick out some new clothes to wear around here for the next week. Which was good, because it really wasn’t a good idea to go back to my dad’s place. If I did, he’d catch me and just somehow know that something was up. I didn’t know how, but he was always like that. Maybe it was his perfectionist nature, maybe it was just karma coming back to bite me in the ass. Either way, I hadn’t wanted to risk it.

  I smiled as I considered how little clothing I’d been wearing the first day. We’d fucked in the dressing room and we’d fucked again when we got back to his place. It was how I’d ended up in his bed instead of the guest bedroom he’d given to me use.

  Since this was the master bedroom, there was an attached bathroom. I was a little hesitant to use it. Was he just a total slob? Completely gross? Did I want to find out? But ultimately I braved it and was pleased to discover that it was pretty damn clean. The counters were wiped down, the shower had the smallest amount of soap scum you could have with a plastic shower curtain, and the place didn’t smell disgusting. Hell, even the toilet was clean, though the seat was up.

  I suppose I can’t ask for everything, I thought mildly. There was a cupboard on the wall opposite the sink. I checked to find several towels and washcloths there. Picking out one of each, I set them aside, then started the water. When it was a nice and steaming hot, I got in.

  As I began to wash, grateful that we’d ignored our seemingly insatiable lust long enough to stop for toiletries, I considered the arrangements here.

  Am I really staying with a virtual stranger for a week?

  It seemed pretty far out, even for little rebellious me. I mean, I was all about pissing off my father, but I didn’t want to go so far as to endanger myself. But then, I didn’t really feel as though I was in danger. Not with Luke.

  Maybe that was stupid of me. Maybe it was wholly unreasonable to feel perfectly safe in his house and in his bed, but I did.

  Must be the great sex, I thought, slightly amused. It’s got me all relaxed and sedated.

  I washed my hair and shaved, making sure to catch all the difficult spots and that there wasn’t any lingering stubble. Since I was staying in his house and he seemed to be just as horny as I was, I thought I would try to look my best at the least.

  When I finished getting washed up, I toweled off my hair. Then I went downstairs wrapped up in a towel. I’d left all of my bags there in a hurry to get my clothes off and let Luke have his wicked way with me. As a result, everything was downstairs, tag still on.

  I padded downstairs and went to my purse first. I rummaged around until I found my cell phone. After agreeing to stay for a week, it seemed prudent to exchange numbers. I checked for messages. There were two.

  The first was a voicemail from my father, which I promptly ignored. He probably hadn’t even called himself, but rather had his secretary do it. What a jerk. I deleted it without listening to the message, though I knew I wouldn’t avoid him for much longer. I was going to have to give him some reason for why I was going to be out of the house for the next week. He wasn’t all that invested in me most of the time, but he would notice this. Especially since this was an election year, as he so frequently liked to remind me. He couldn’t afford to have me gallivanting around like a loose cannon. Which meant he was going to keep slightly closer tabs on me until the summer, at the very least, was over.

  Which is why I can’t go home, I thought, feeling a weight on my shoulders all of a sudden. If my father figured out I was pregnant, there was no telling what he’d do to avoid that scandal.

  The second message was actually a text and it was from Luke.

  Went to the shop. Back in a while. Food in the fridge.

  It was the equivalent of a note left on the fridge, which I hated, and all it was missing was “stay out of trouble.” It shouldn’t have irked me. The note was just being considerate, letting me know what was going on, but it reminded me so much of my father always being absentee, treating me like a child in the attic, that I felt miffed. And when I got miffed, I got rebellious.

  Tossing my phone on the couch, I checked to make sure that my car keys were still in my bag. They were. Then I went to the bags I had hastily left on the floor by the door. I rummaged through them to find clothes to wear, then yanked off the tags.

  I dressed right there in the living room, still annoyed about the text message, even though I knew it was unreasonable. I tossed the towel on the couch, making a mental note not to leave it there. It was still wet. Then I grabbed the red panties—the only ones that weren’t thongs—and slipped them up over my legs. I settled on the matching bra which had black roses on the red fabric, then grabbed the jeans. They were tight enough that I had to wiggle a little to get them on, but it was well worth it. They made my ass look like a million dollars and the black was slimming. I went with a red shirt that was halfway to sheer, but you only noticed it if you really looked. It was sleeveless and button down.

  When I was dressed, I realized I didn’t have any socks to go with the pair of boots I’d picked up, so I decided to go with the black heels instead. I’d have rather had the boots, but I wasn’t about to have sweaty feet. Gross.

  Fully dressed, I grabbed my bag and my phone. I was out the door when I remembered the towel. Cursing, I doubled back and hung it up in the downs
tairs bathroom.

  My hair was still damp when I left the house, but there wasn’t much I could do about that and I wasn’t going to wait for it to dry. So I’d settled for a toweled dry messy look in the hopes that it would look wild and deliberate, then did my make up a little dark and smoky so that I hopefully just looked like I was going for carelessly sexy instead of like I was living out of someone else’s house.

  I slid into the front seat of my car and started her up. I was pulling out of the driveway before I realized that I’d already decided where I was going. Did Luke honestly think I was going to play little housewife for him and wait at home until he got back?

  No way, bub, I’m coming to you.

  …

  The Wicked Rose had some parking in the back, and if that was full, you could park across the street in the lot that was available for the strip mall. A lot of people parked there just so that no one knew they were going to the tattoo parlor, but it was mostly just for overflow parking.

  I parked there because I remembered as I was pulling in that I was driving the new BMW that my dad had bought me for my last birthday. Not a huge deal, there were plenty of BMWs in the area, but if dad was looking for me, he would definitely notice the car here. I didn’t want him to know which shop I was in, so parking in the general lot afforded me a little bit of anonymity. Just enough anyway.

  I did a quick glance around the area to see if there was anyone I knew walking around. I didn’t see one. Deeming it safe, I left the place and headed across the street to the Wicked Rose. When I pushed open the door, the little bell overhead chimed. My heels clicked as I walked across the checkerboard-tiled flooring. Tossing my wild hair over on shoulder, I scanned the area quickly in search of Luke. I didn’t see him, but there was a younger man, maybe younger than me even, behind the rounded counter. He was staring at me curiously.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, sounding friendly, if a little uncertain.

  I smiled at him, then sauntered up to the counter. I settled my elbows on it, then leaned over towards him. “Maybe. I’m looking for someone.”

  The kid’s eyes darted down and I knew he was looking at my breasts. The shirt didn’t have a lot of cleavage, but thanks to its see through consistency, my bra was likely visible through it and that meant so were the outlines of my breasts. “Uh, right. Who are you looking for?”

  “Luke? Maybe you’ve heard of him?” I asked coyly, batting my eyes.

  The guy lifted his eyebrows in surprise, then looked me over completely just once. This time it wasn’t so much checking me out as considering me, weighing the likelihood that I might know someone like Luke. After a moment, he said, “Yeah, uh, he’s in the back. He’s working on a guy, but they should be done soon.” He hesitated. “Are you…? I mean, I’m Sorenson. Jamie Sorenson.” He offered his hand politely. I noticed that there was a curling tattoo across his knuckles.

  Smiling sweetly at him, I took his hand. We shook, his grip light. “Pleasure. I’m…” I hesitated. If I gave my last name, everyone would recognize it immediately. Rice wasn’t the most common name in these parts, and even if he didn’t recognize me, he’d recognize the name that is usually attached to mayor. Recovering quickly, I finished, “Lia. I’m Lia.”

  “Lia…?” he prompted, clearly looking for a last name.

  “Just Lia. You know, like Madonna?”

  He laughed at that, then winked at me. “Works for me. Tell you what, I’ll call you Lia if you call me Sorenson.”

  I grinned, deciding I liked the kid. “Deal.”

  He looked me over once more. “You look kind of familiar. Did we go to high school together or something?”

  I hesitated. I was right; this guy was definitely young. There was a chance that we did, in fact, go to school together, but I doubted it. Despite being relatively small in terms of population, Mount Rose had two high schools. One was the obligatory public school which most kids attended, but the second was a private school, complete with ridiculous schoolgirl uniforms. I still had a few, knowing that the schoolgirl fantasy was pretty prevalent with men these days.

  After a moment of thinking it, I decided that no, I probably hadn’t gone to school with him. I shook my head. “Probably not. I didn’t go to Mount Rose High,” I told him honestly. I didn’t mention that I had in fact gone to Mount Rose Prep, but that wasn’t the point.

  “Oh, okay, then. I’ve probably just seen you around or something,” Sorenson decided with a shrug of his shoulders, explaining away my familiarity. I didn’t mention that he’d probably seen me on television last week standing next to my father while he gave his press conference. But maybe this guy didn’t watch those boring old things anyway.

  “How long do you think he’ll be?” I asked, redirecting the conversation back to Luke. I didn’t want this kid to keep wondering about where he’d seen me before.

  Sorenson waved a hand. “Maybe ten minutes. If you want to wait, the bench seat really isn’t that uncomfortable. I’ll let him know you’re here as soon as he’s done.”

  I smiled gratefully at him. “Thanks.”

  I made a round looking at all the tattoos on the walls. The artwork really was remarkable. Most of the examples on the walls were roses and almost all of them included some kind of skull worked in, too. A definite theme, which made sense. This place was owned by the Road Roses and the town was called Mount Rose. Still, it seemed like an almost odd choice given the rough and tumble nature of things like motorcycle clubs.

  Eventually, after I’d looked through all of the examples, I took a seat on the bench as Sorenson had suggested. I crossed my legs and bounced the top one as I waited. There was a small table with a book of tattoo examples and a stack of tattoo magazines beside it. There were a few motorcycle ones in there, too, but I didn’t care to glance through those. Instead, I focused on the tattoo mags, flipping through them and occasionally stopping to check out an article. Mostly, they just seemed to feature a lot of barely clothed babes with huge breasts, corsets, dyed hair, and tattoos covering most of their body.

  Not that that’s a bad thing, I thought curiously. Most of them were incredibly sexy, with a sort of vintage pin up feel to them that I found very attractive. But I didn’t think I would ever want quite so many tattoos. Talk about painful.

  Still, I idly considered getting one at least. Maybe something on my hip or on my shoulder blade. On some level those places seemed almost clichéd, but I acknowledged the usefulness of getting one in either of those places. Easy enough to cover up.

  As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I felt moderately disgusted with myself. I tossed the magazine back on the table, crossing my arms over my chest. What sort of jerk was I that was so scared of others knowing that I had a tattoo? The kind that’s been playing by my father’s rules for too long, I thought bitterly. And that was what it was, too. The idea that a location should be picked for the sake of being able to cover it up was entirely my father’s doing. He was all about propriety and appearances and what you should do to fit into society.

  Things I told myself I didn’t care about. But thinking about the women in the magazines and my own personal choices, I was starting to think that maybe I wasn’t as open as I thought I was.

  Sorenson disappeared from the counter for a minute and when he came back, I noticed a tall, handsome man trailing him.

  “Luke,” I greeted, unfolding my legs and standing on the tall heels I’d picked for the day. Giving him a sultry smile, I sashayed my way over to him, making a point of swaying my hips. He seemed a little nervous at the sight of me, but then his eyes locked on to my swinging hips and I knew I had him. I went up to him and put my palms against his chest, then slid them up over his taut muscles before sliding them around his neck. Leaning up, I kept my lips millimeters from his and whispered, “I missed you.”

  I felt his muscles tense as I pressed my body against his, reaching for him. I closed the space between our mouths and gave him a slow, lingering kiss. Sorenson stared at us, I
could feel it, and part of me felt a rush of pleasure at showing off that I could just go up and kiss him like that.

  When we broke the kiss, I grinned up at him. His eyes looked hazy with lust and he had to cough to clear his throat before speaking. “Lia, what are you doing here?”

  I lifted my shoulders nonchalantly. “I came to see you, baby. You weren’t there when I woke up.”

  He tensed and I saw his eyes dart over to look at Sorenson. I looked at the kid, too, and saw that he was grinning goofily at us, like he thought we were adorable or something. It kind of made me want to laugh, making me feel like Olivia Newton John in Grease, but I resisted the urge and returned my focus to Luke.

  “Sorry. I’ll…wake you up before I go next time.” It sounded like he was trying to be mean or snarky or something, but instead he just sounded husky. It made his statement dirtier than he’d intended and this time I actually did laugh.