“No,” she replied, her grip tightening on the neck of the unopened bottle.
“Okay, wanna share why you’re about to lose your shit?”
“Look, you can like that woman all you want. Personally, she’s not a bad person. I’m trying to not hate her, but she brought him back.”
“Clive?”
“I don’t know if he saw me, but if he did—” Porsche’s eyes shut tight and her lips pursed.
“He’s not going to hurt you. You know you’re safe here.”
“But I’m not free, not anymore.” Her head turned to him. “It’s not the fresh open space that lets me breathe here. He’ll keep coming. We can’t stop him. Why the hell would she go to him? I was trying to get her away.”
“You were?”
“Yeah, when I saw you beating his ass I was trying to get Meadow to leave. And what does she do?” Porsche’s voice changed to a whine as she mimicked Meadow, “No, I’ve got to stop Freaky. I need to help Clive. I have to end it the right way.”
Freaky’s jaw tightened.
“There is only one right way with Clive.” Porsche’s eyes burned with the need for vengeance. “I don’t want to hate Meadow, but right now—” Porsche’s hand shifted on the bottle.
Freaky pulled hard on her fingers to release her grip. Would Red let the women go at it in the boxing ring like he did with the men? “All right Porsche,” he said tugging the bottle and passing it off to the first person who walked by them. “How about you and I take a few steps outside?”
“Where he could be watching?”
“Dreamer ain’t exactly my favorite person right now either. I need to not be here.” He stood and held out his hand to Porsche. “Besides, you know there is no way that man makes it on the property, let alone all the way here.”
Porsche took his hand and they made their way outside to where the party had spilled on the grass.
“All these years and you’re still this upset?” he asked.
“I can’t use GPS,” she said. “Unless it’s someone else’s phone. I’ve switched numbers, carriers… maybe I can now, but I swear the moment I pop up anywhere, I get an email, text, something. My money is tucked away in my drawer because I can’t get an account.”
“Why not have Hack get you a new identity?”
“I’ve thought about it,” she said. “But something about still being me and living good is my best fuck you to him.”
A New Mexico charter member came up to the two of them.
Porsche instantly ran into his arms. “When did you get here?” she gushed.
“In time for the wedding,” the man replied.
Porsche turned to Freaky. “Sorry, Freaky this is Sting.”
“Good to meet you,” Freaky said as he extended his hand for a shake.
“Are you two?” Sting asked.
Porsche shook her head no.
“Cool, wanna dance, maybe catch up?”
“Have fun, and Porsche, you are safe.” Freaky nodded.
“I know,” she beamed, the fear melting from her. “I’ve got Sting.”
“Did I miss something?” Sting asked as he brushed his shoulder length hair from his eyes.
“Clive,” she replied solemnly.
The man’s face shifted to one Freaky wouldn’t want to cross.
Heading out a bit further from the party, he needed to clear his mind. Kicking at the gravel road they’d laid back to the club house, he made his way toward his bike only to find Dreamer was sitting sideways on it. The closer he got it was obvious she was in her own world as usual, only this time as she stared straight ahead she wasn’t getting lost in the beauty of the night. This time, tears were staining her cheeks, but didn’t have the hard sobs he’d expect.
“Meadow,” he said softly as he approached. “Hey Dreamer, whatcha doing?”
She turned enough to see him then stood, wiping at her cheeks as if that could make the pain go away. “I’m so tired from the day,” she said as she hugged herself, her hands rubbing up and down along her arms. “But I’m petrified of being in the trailer alone.”
“I could stay.”
“No,” she replied. “It’s too close to the road— God, I have to think of these things now.” Turning toward him, her face looked utterly defeated. The glow along with the promise of beauty and goodness completely gone from her eyes.
He wrapped her in his arms and held tight. Her tears staining his shirt as he stroked her head.
“He said I can’t function without him,” she said. “That I’m his. I’ll always be his.”
“You believe him?” Freaky asked, every muscle in his body tense waiting for her to say No. Of course not, I’m yours.
“Like a bad nightmare,” she replied. “One I can’t escape, no matter how hard I try to wake myself.”
Freaky kissed the crown of her head, stroking her long hair. “And here I thought you only had sweet dreams.”
“Does gone, gone, mean what I think it does?” she asked speaking directly into his chest.
“Yes, did you ask for that?” he prayed she had. Porsche’s fear alone should be enough, he couldn’t see having Dreamer being the same for the next decade.
“No.” She pulled away. “If it comes to that, I don’t know—how could I?” She shook her head.
“If it’s you or him—”
“But I can’t stop it, I just have to—”
“What?” he said halting her. “Go with him. Make him a sandwich. Dreamer, you came here wearing strategically placed clothes. Especially your scarf. If being part of the Hard Road rescuing women has taught me anything, a man that can choke is a second away from killing. Trust me, I know the amount of pressure needed to end a life. What I don’t understand is how someone could ever touch you that way.”
Meadow started to walk away.
He caught her hand. Not her wrist, her hand. Not pulling or yanking, but a gentle hold to a delicate hand. That alone should have shown her the difference between a man who saw her as nothing more than a means to his own end and one who saw her as his world. “Meadow, Clive claims you’re his, but you’re not.”
“Why? Because you want to claim me like the men do around here?” she cried. “I know I’m not good on m-m-my own, but that doesn’t mean that-that—”
“Claim in the MC is a two way street. Why the hell you think our women have cuts that say owner and operator?” He brought his hand to her cheek and cradled her face, his thumb sliding along her bottom lip as her mouth opened slightly. “I want you Dreamer, but not unless you want me right back. You drive me crazy and you get distracted at all the wrong times and all I can think when I see you is I want her in my arms and on the back of my bike.” He tilted her head up slightly, hoping, beyond hope a sound or shooting star wouldn’t distract her like a squirrel running wild. “I don’t call you Dreamer just because you drift into your own world,” he said knowing he had to lay it all on the table. This was his one chance to show her what she meant to him. “I call you that because for the first time in my life, I actually have a dream. And every part of it revolves around your smile.”
13
Meadow had never kissed a man so deeply. Especially one who wasn’t pawing her body. Freaky’s mouth on her as his hands held her face was the most sensual moment of her life. She was his focus. Discovering who she was. Feeling her as their tongues met and melded. Standing in the middle of a ranch as music blared in the background, when the rain started, she wondered if she had truly fallen asleep.
A light misty rain at first. Wetting their skin, but even the coolness didn’t quell the heat between the two of them. Neither broke from the embrace until there was a crack of thunder and the clouds opened up, bringing about a heavy spring storm.
Meadow pulled back just in time for the second lightly crack to light up the sky and Freaky’s face. She stroked his cheek, the light framing him perfectly as his hair flopped forward. Raindrops catching on his long lashes as he dipped down and captured her lips agai
n.
What she wouldn’t have given for her camera in that moment. How did one live seeing a handsome man lit up by the night and know they’d only have it in their memory?
When his hand slipped into hers, they moved quickly toward the clubhouse where almost everyone was on the porch watching as Hack and Preacher Girl danced in the rain. She was barefoot in the mud with a brilliant smile on her face.
“I have to get my camera!” Meadow exclaimed.
Freaky captured her lips. His hand so strong as he cradled her cheek. “People have camera’s on their phone,” he reasoned, walking her backward to the clubhouse.
“Just two minutes,” she begged.
He shook his head. “Fuck, I must love you,” he exclaimed and let her go.
She ran to her SUV and grabbed her camera. Adjusting the settings for the low light and snapping the couple, lost in the moment and each other. Meadow’s camera hand dropped to her side. She turned to Freaky, standing just under the covered porch waiting for her. What was she doing? Tossing the camera back on the seat of her car, she approached Freaky who was laughing as others joined into the muddy mess of a dance.
“Distract me Christopher,” she said as she stepped on the porch. “Make me focus on only you.”
Taking the challenge with a broad grin, her fingers intertwined with his as they moved through the partygoers and up to the third floor. The hallway was a mix of closed and open doors. Freaky turned the handle to one near the end of the hall.
Meadow was surprised at the size of the room. In a way, it looked similar to a hotel room. No bath, just a shower stall and toilet, but still it was his own bathroom. She was surprised clothes weren’t strewn about and the bed was made, but then again, that could have been the Hoez taking care of the men. A pang of jealousy shot through her, thinking of another woman caring for him.
Freaky hung his coat on a hook on the back of his door as he locked them in and turned to her. He removed his slightly wet shirt.
The sinewy muscles of a man who worked manual labor made her heart skip. Surprisingly, he had a bit of a V by his waist and light dusting of dark hair from his belly button that disappeared under his jeans.
“How badly do you want to go back downstairs?” he asked as his finger fought through the tangles of her wet hair. Coming to rest on the back of her head and turning it slightly upward.
“Very, but then again, there’s quite a bit I want to shoot in here,” she replied honestly as her hand trailed down his chest. Her head tilted to the side, her gaze taking in the cuts in his muscles. As if her eyes had their own zoom to focus on areas. She trailed her hand around his body as she circled him. His skin rose and she couldn’t help kissing him between his shoulder blades before stepping back and taking in his tattoo.
The skull and lightning bolts of the Steel MC covered his back. Shading on the skull reminded her of charcoal sketches she did. Her fingers outlined the artwork.
His shoulders straightened and he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I have an idea,” he said moving from her reach and to his nightstand. The slight pull on a drawer as his fingers deftly retrieved a long, black silken strip of fabric. “It’s not my bowtie,” he explained. “But I can get it if you prefer.”
“When did you change?” she wondered.
“Before the cake,” he replied coming behind her and turning the bright room into darkness.
Her breath instantly hitched at the sudden lack of visual stimulation. Meadow’s hand reached backward to find his wet jeans as an anchor point to hold onto.
With a light touch, her hair was brushed to one side of her neck as his lips trailed along the other. “Who did you want to distract you?” he purred against her ear.
“You,” she breathed.
“That’s not what you said,” he replied. “Say my name.”
“Christopher.” The letters teased her lips as they formed his name. Setting off visions of him shirtless.
Other senses heightened as she heard his belt unlatch and fall to the floor. She turned, blindly toward him, but he captured her wrists and held them in front of her. A stiffer fabric wrapped around them. Not tight, barely binding, but enough she knew what he was doing. Her clothes, still wet were now becoming colder, she needed that to counter act the heat of her skin.
Holding her hands forward, she could make out his chest then, neck and finally his head passing by her as if he were dropping to his knees. When his fingers slid around the waist of her leggings and brought them past her thighs, she curled her fingers in his hair. One hand lifted her right foot, removing her shoe, then her left and soon, her leggings were gone completely.
The arousal warmed her apex as he bit the top of her panties, then tugged them down. Every part of her was focused on the man licking his way up her inner thigh and when his tongue flicked her clit, she nearly came. With a swirl, her head fell back and he buried his face in her pussy. His tongue going in and out of her core and her unable to do anything but hold onto his hair. She wanted to pull off the blindfold and take in the man on his knees before her. Find his dark eyes and fall completely into them. Her knees trembled and he dug is fingers into her thighs to keep her from falling as she rode the orgasmic wave to its pinnacle, crying out his name as every nerve of her body exploded at once.
“Fuck me, Christopher,” she begged. Needing to be filled by more than the thrusts of his skillful tongue.
He moved, back up her body, pulling her shirt with him as he went and she held her hands above her head. Still bound there was no way to remove her shirt and he used that to bind her more. Damn she wanted to touch him. Feel him. Claw at his back and now her hands were fists. Tied off inside her shirt. He moved her to the bed. Laying her down gently before locking her wrist on what she assumed was a bedpost. She needed her eyes she wanted to know and yet, there was the not knowing. The mystery of it all had every vessel pumping through her body.
A chill trickled over her body as Meadow had to listen for signs of where he was in the room. What was he going to do to her next? The only thing she knew was there would be no pain. Not with Christopher. Her Christopher.
Left, right? Was he near? Her head turned sharply to the right when the sound of boots hitting the floor made a hard thud. She’d been able to block out the noise from downstairs and it was almost as if she could hear him breathing. The sound of his zipper made her twist her hips as heat scaled her now swollen nether lips. “Oh Jesus,” she moaned and arched her back. The man wasn’t even touching her and the thought alone had her core clenching as a softer thump let her know he was now naked.
“Crying out another man’s name,” he teased when his lips grazed her nipple. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”
“Oh fuck,” she cried out not realizing he was so close. Pulling on her arms out of instinct, she wanted to touch him. Her palms burned as every part of her wanted more.
Sensations ran through her body as her legs spread and relief the torture of waiting would soon be over. At this point, she wondered if her pussy had its own heart beat when he slid the blindfold from her eyes and kissed her deeply. The flash of light gone in an instant when she closed them and fell into his embrace.
Between her legs, she could feel his hard cock, the head poking at her entrance, but he didn’t push in. Instead, he stroked her face with one hand and placed his other on her forearm above her head. “Touch me,” he commanded. “Touch me Meadow.”
She became confused. “I can’t—my hands—”
“What about your hands?” he said as his slid higher, toward her wrist. His calloused fingers slipping under the fabric currently restraining her.
Or were they?
His palm touched hers as the slight binding fell from around her wrist and her shirt disappeared.
Her hands had barely been bound. She had been completely at his will, and free all at the same time. Instantly, her fingers tangled in his hair and he rolled on his back taking her with him. Their bodies joining in one swift motion as she
impaled herself on his thick cock. Stretching her core wide, as she took him with every part of herself.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“With you,” she replied. Completely lost in the feel of him inside her with his hands guiding her hips on the ride of a lifetime.
Finding her breast with his mouth, he suckled her as she rode his hips. Then she pushed up, her legs wrapping around his back as she sat on him. Still connected. His lips kissing along the column of her neck as they both held tight and experiencing a climax unlike any she’d ever known.
“Do you understand now what it is to belong to someone and still be free?”
Christopher’s words trickled down her spine and wrapped around her belly.
“I want you to be mine, but by your choice, not a threat. You are not bound to me by anything more than your heart.”
“That’s a very strong binding,” she said, her lips caressing his.
“With a hold as tight I just had around your wrist, all in your mind. And only restraining because you wanted it to be.” Christopher’s eyes bore into hers, joining them in the most intimate conversation said without words as his cock throbbed against her convulsing walls and clearing her mind of everything as if he’d hit the reset button.
All she knew and wanted was now held in her arms, staring in her eyes and letting her know for the first time that she was perfect.
14
Freaky woke with Meadow’s legs and arms completely wrapped around him. He loved the feel of her nakedness next to him. Her soft, smooth skin, warm and welcoming like a pool, surrounding him and taking him away.
Sadly, he had too much to do to stay in bed the entire day which is what he wanted to do.
Dreamer: Book 7 of The Steel MC Montana Charter Page 14