I stepped into his arms as the music began to play, and my heart leaped at his touch and raced at being so close to him. He pulled me closer and my nipples hardened as they encountered the leather of his vest with only the thin black fabric of my dress separating them. My eyes closed, and I took a deep breath, attempting to collect myself, but that was a big mistake. Because when I did, I breathed in his cologne, and I felt my face and chest flush with the pleasure of just inhaling his scent. Spicy, exotic, and leather… Why did he have to smell so damn good? Hell, if my hooha didn’t clench just from that and his touch.
“So, congratulations on the bouquet. I guess that means you and Trevor will probably be next.” His voice was strained and snide. My eyes flashed open in hurt and annoyance to see him looking down at me with a blank expression.
Why was he being so hateful? God, he was such an ass.
“Doubtful.” My voice snapped out. I just couldn’t get any other words out at that point. I knew I would sound breathless and shaky if I did. My body was screaming for him just by being this close to his. It was as if my very soul sensed his was close and put every cell in my body on high alert. Traitorous damn body. I looked away so I didn’t drown in the green that had taken over his beautiful hazel eyes. It wasn’t fair that he was so freaking cute but such a damn jerk.
As he spun me at the corner of the dance floor, his hand gripped my hip tighter to keep us together through the turn. He was an amazing dancer, I hated to admit. When his hand slid down across the curve of my ass, I jumped and my shaken gaze collided with his. His nostrils flared, and the muscle in his jaw jumped as he pulled me even closer so that we were nearly touching head to toe. His erection was enough to be felt through his black denim, and I was completely stunned. My ego started to feel a boost knowing, even with the contempt he felt for me, he still desired me. Without meaning to, my lips curved into a satisfied smirk.
I swear he growled. Yes, growled. Guess he didn’t like being turned on by me.
Too damn bad, asswipe.
When we turned at the next corner, he spun us off the dance floor and proceeded to drag me along by my hand down the hall that led to the bathrooms. I protested to no avail. He kept pulling me along, past the bathrooms and entered a door at the end of the hall.
“Ummm, it’s a storage closet? Is there something you needed, Hollywood? Perhaps you wanted to mop the dance floor? Need more toilet paper?” Yeah, the sarcasm was rolling off my tongue. I was such a bitch. Oh well, if he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t have been such an ass to me. The door closed with a sharp click.
“Yes,” he said as he grabbed me by the waist, setting me on top of a table along the wall. “Dammit all to hell. I fucking hate myself for it, but I need you.” His lips crashed to mine with a ferocity that took my breath away. Our tongues battled and tangled as he slid my dress up my thighs to spread my legs and step in between my knees. His hands grabbed my ass and roughly slid me closer until my hot core was flush with his encased erection. With a satisfied moan slipping from my lips into his mouth, my hands threaded through his hair. Fuck it. Despite my mind’s resolve to snub him, my heart and body craved him. The kiss was like none other I had ever experienced. Wild, passionate, and consuming.
His warm, calloused fingers slid up my inner thigh to cup my throbbing core. My panties were soaked, so there was no denying my arousal. His small groan told me he noticed. When a single finger slid them to the side and dipped in and out of the moisture pooling there, my hands clutched tight to the back of his neck and shoulder. In desperation, my hips tilted, trying to pull his probing fingers deeper inside me.
Without warning, he pulled away from me. His eyes were wide, and his hands fisted before he banged them on his head.
“Shit! I can’t fucking do this! What are you doing to me?” He turned to slam out the door. My arms, which had remained outstretched and suspended in my shock, fell helplessly to my side. For the second time that day, he left me sitting with my mouth hanging open and panting in sexual frustration like I had run a marathon.
SLAMMING INTO MY ROOM, I pulled out the small duffle I had brought and stuffed my few belongings into it. I dug out my cell phone and sent off a text to Reaper, apologizing for ditching out early from the reception. Then I called Snow and told him I had to take care of a few things and I would meet everyone at the hotel in Gallup, NM.
We had taken the longer ride down across I40 instead of the more direct route through Denver due to the temperatures and weather in early October. We had brought trailers with the SUV and truck, so if we got tired or the weather got bad, we could take turns riding, driving, and hauling. Two days and nearly 1800 miles is a long time on a bike, even if you love the hell out of it.
Snow asked if I wanted someone to ride with me, and I told him no, I was good, and to let everyone enjoy the reception. I would stow my cut to avoid any issues on the road since I would be riding solo. You just don’t go flashing your colors around in another MC’s territory. Snow told me to be careful, which I always was. After tapping out a quick text to Joker and Hacker, I stuffed my phone into my inner pocket of my jacket.
With careless regard for my shit, I shoved the bag and my cut in the saddle bags and climbed on. I had always ridden a soft tail, but decided to spoil myself after returning home from the Army, and bought a black Street Glide. I fucking loved this bike.
Damn, I was so pissed at myself and her, I was shaking. Searching my pockets, I found the stub of a joint, stuck it between my lips and lit the end. A couple of puffs and I felt my tension ease. A couple more and it was pretty much used up. Far from high, but feeling calmer, I tossed it to the ground and exhaled the last breath I had held.
Jerking on my helmet, I settled in and zipped my jacket up all the way. Clutch, brake, and then I was putting her in neutral before flipping the engine switch and hitting the start button. She purred to life with a deep rumble, and I gunned the throttle to blow out the dust. Shit, I loved the Rinehart true duel pipes I had added. Best sound, ever… next to the little sighs and moans Becca made as our bodies collided…
What the hell? Fuck me.
Let’s go, baby. We need some asphalt under our wheels.
There would be about six hours to think on the way to Gallup. As I eased on the throttle, I left the situation tearing at my heart and dick behind me. Too bad it didn’t flush this fucked-up situation from my mind as well.
It was late and the roads had been nearly deserted most of the night. At about two in the morning, I pulled off the interstate and up to the hotel we stopped at on the way down. Of course, I had made good time, and let’s just say I was lucky I hadn’t encountered any damn cops. Habit had me backing my bike into a spot in front of the hotel. My head was screaming, and I had hoped to have a drink at the bar before I hit the sack, but I didn’t make it before closing time. Oh well, I walked over to the 24-hour convenience store across from the hotel and picked up a fifth of Jack. Yeah, I may not drink much anymore, but tonight was definitely a Jack night.
After checking in, I dropped my bags in my room and walked to the chair in front of the open curtains without turning on the lights. Restless, I sat staring out the window at the night lights, tipped the bottle up, and tried to forget her.
Damn, she’d lured me like a siren and woven her very essence through my veins. Her face flashed like a strobe light in my mind with all her beautiful expressions a kaleidoscope in my head. Visions of her laughing with her eyes twinkling, angry with eyes dark and gleaming, and painfully clear was the expression on her beautiful face as she was lost in passion, on the brink of imploding. That was when her lips were full and red, her mouth parted with her gasping breaths, and her lashes casting shadows over her glazed jade eyes.
She was under my skin, and I couldn’t stand it. Never had I been so hung up on a woman. And of course, I had to become obsessed with an unfaithful bitch. The problem was, she had her claws in me after one night, and I was on the verge of throwing away all my morals and promises fo
r her sweet, addictive pussy. That was why I had to leave. The only cure I could think of was to find someone else to bury my cock in until the memories of her were nothing but hazy photographs in my mind. If I could lock her away with the memories of all the shit from my deployments, including the accident in Afghanistan, I knew I would be okay. Yeah, just lock it all away—easier said than done.
It didn’t take me long to polish off the bottle in the mood I was in. Good thing I hadn’t bought a bigger bottle, because I could have kept going. When I stood up, the alcohol hit me like lightning, and I swayed on my feet.
Whoa. This was why I quit drinking so much of that shit.
Boots kicked off, I flipped back the bedspread and crashed face down on the bed. My heavy eyes drifted closed, and I fell asleep with green eyes, red lips, and deep auburn hair racing through my mind. I could have sworn I even smelled her perfume.
Shit, I was so fucked.
TREVOR FOLLOWED ME THROUGH the door and tossed his keys to the table. Shit, I wish he would have let me take a cab home from the airport. What the hell was I thinking telling him when I was flying in? The silent ride home was tortuous. It made me just want to crawl in bed and pretend the trip to Vegas never happened.
Couldn’t I just go upstairs and pack my bags? The furniture that was mine didn’t even seem to matter. He could keep it, or I could get it another time. Of course, he wanted to talk right fricking now. Damn him. What had I ever seen in him, other than he was good looking, had a good job, and seemed so respectable? Which sure as hell didn’t really seem so important now.
“You shouldn’t wear so much makeup, Becca. It makes you look cheap. What would your students and their parents say if they saw you looking like that? Appearances are important, baby. I’ve told you this before. No one wants their child being taught by a loose and easy woman. Right?” My teeth gritted in frustration as I looked in the mirror over the hall table to make sure I hadn’t gone heavy with my face this morning. After all, I did have to cover the dark circles I woke with after a fitful night.
Wait. What did my makeup have to do with being easy or not? And why in the holy hell did I look right away, intent on fixing whatever he said was wrong? Sheesh, he really was an idiot, or maybe I was the idiot. How did I let myself fall into his controlling manner? It was like I never even saw it, or more likely, I inadvertently allowed it because I was trying so hard for “respectability.” I was really beginning to hate that word… Respectability. What I had lost sight of was the simple fact that I couldn’t expect other people to respect me if I didn’t respect myself.
“You know what, Trevor? Newsflash: I’m not really wearing that much makeup, and I was still told I looked good today.” His eyes widened in shock at my uncharacteristic response. He had some issues if he thought I had a lot of makeup on, especially now that most of it had worn off since I put it on this morning. God, he was starting to piss me off. He had me feeling like a completely different person than I was before him, and not in a good way. Then, I was carefree, bubbly, and happy. The last time I felt happy with him was… hell, I hardly ever felt happy anymore. In Vegas was the happiest I had been in forever.
Trevor always seemed so boring but… safe. There was never a concern that he would pull me back into my former wild behavior. What I hadn’t realized was that he had molded and manipulated me into what he wanted me to be, and I completely and totally drank the Kool-Aid where he was concerned. I’d lost sight of myself and the fact that I could mature and still have fun. It didn’t mean I would go insanely crazy just because I had a few drinks or went dancing. God, I needed to get away from him already. Just being back here, I could feel the tension creeping in, constricting my skin and the very air I was breathing.
“Hey, you know what? I think I’ll go wash my face, swing by my mom’s real quick, and then head to the gym. I really slacked on working out while I was gone, and I ate way too many carbs.” A false smile plastered on my face, I rushed upstairs to the bathroom. When I got there, I scrubbed the makeup off, pulled my hair up in a tight, high ponytail, and threw on a work out T-shirt and some yoga pants. Grabbing my car keys from my dresser and a light jacket from my closet, I quickly descended the stairs, each step a staccato echo of my heartbeat.
There was no sign of Trevor when I grabbed my purse from the table. He must have been in his office. Good, because I didn’t really want to talk to him anymore. I needed to get some fresh air and see my mom. Maybe she would have some of her homemade coconut cake waiting for me. Of course, that would mean extra miles on the treadmill, but it would so be worth it. The thought brought a genuine smile to my face.
I took the long way around, taking Shore Drive around the lake to East Manawa Drive and then to Navajo Street. Driving on the curving road bordering Lake Manawa never failed to calm me and bring back memories of my childhood growing up on “Lake Manaswamp.” It had been dubbed that for as long as anyone could remember. My friends and I used to party on the beach, and, of course, we made out and drank in the park and in the random parking lots that surrounded the lake.
While there were a lot of really nice houses around the lake, my parents’ house was a little rambler that was now squeezed in between two big fancy houses. We weren’t directly on the lake, but close enough. It was much older than many of the houses around us, having been built years and years before they were, but it was home.
I parked in the driveway, in front of the chipped “Semi Parking Only” sign I had bought my dad for Christmas my sophomore year of high school. Just the memory of his face as he nailed it up on the side of the house where the driveway was had me grinning. He had been so proud and tickled. Since the spot was open, he obviously was out on a run. Dang, that had me more than a little bummed, because I loved seeing my dad and hearing his booming laugh.
The rust-colored red paint on the house was peeling in spots, and I made a mental note to offer to help repaint it next summer. Dad didn’t always get around to repairs on the house because he was gone so much. Mom tried, but she wasn’t super handy, having come from a family where she was the only girl who really never had to do anything for herself. She was spoiled growing up. One thing my mom could do, however, was grow beautiful flowers and bake. She was also incredibly creative and had, at one time, aspirations of doing graphic design.
Honestly, I couldn’t believe I didn’t end up around 500 pounds with all the delicious baked goods that poured out of her oven over the years. It never ceased to amaze me how she and my dad had hooked up, because they were so totally opposite. My mom was like me, artistic, maybe a little of a flower child. Dad was gruff, a work-with-his-hands type of guy. He drove a truck, fixed shit when he was home, and tinkered in his shop on God knows what when he had free time. They loved each other though, there was no doubt about it. The love in their eyes when they looked at each other warmed my heart. That was what I wanted someday. I just didn’t know if I would ever be that lucky. Maybe luck had nothing to do with it. Maybe my own fear of losing control over my newer “good girl reputation” was actually what was holding me back.
As if I had conjured it with my thoughts, I walked in the house and the aroma of my mother’s baking engulfed me. Ahhh, home. How was it that a simple smell could have nostalgia flood back over you and leave you feeling like a kid again… safe… with no worries, just the stress of school work or how you would respond to an invite to the SnoBall dance? It was as if stepping through the doorway was like stepping into a time warp.
“Becca, honey? Is that you?” My mom peeked around the doorway from the kitchen to the living room. Her smile was wide and bright as she blew a stray strand of blonde hair from her face. Despite not seeing eye to eye with my mom, I loved her. She was still beautiful to me, and I hurried over to hug her and kiss her cheek as she continued to stir what looked like frosting in a mixing bowl. Her green eyes lit with laughter when I told her how beautiful she was.
“Girl, you’re so crazy. You know I’m old and out of shape and the wrinkles are ta
king over! What do you want?” She winked at me and tipped her head over to the counter where I noted a cake resting on a cooling rack. This had me clapping my hands and jumping up and down just like the child I felt take over as I entered the house. My mom continued to laugh at me as she told me to sit down and tell her all about Las Vegas.
“It was fun. Steph was gorgeous, as always. The wedding was sweet, and the food at the reception was good. Steph’s husband is so incredibly hot, and you can just tell he loves her so much. It reminded me of you and dad.” I knew I had a wistful look on my face. Jealousy was creeping in again, and I fought down the green-eyed monster that was clawing up my throat. It didn’t seem fair because I had always wanted what my parents had, and now my best friend seemed to have it too. Not that I begrudged Steph and Colton one iota.
“I’m just still so shocked! A biker! I would never have thought that sweet studious little girl would hook up with someone like that.” Mom tsked in slight disapproval.
“Oh, Mom, he’s nice. And he used to be a soldier in the Army. He’s a war hero with a purple heart and everything.” How I wished my mom wasn’t so hung up on occupations, income, and appearances. For crying out loud, my dad did a short stint in the Army before he got out and became a truck driver. He wasn’t a Wall Street tycoon, and that had done them just fine.
“Oh really? Hmm, I didn’t know that. But a biker mechanic… surely he could have found a better job than that after the Army. Now Trevor, he got a good job after he got out of the Air Force. Surely, that boy of Steph’s could have found something like Trevor did.”
Ugh! Mom, please!
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