by Brogan Riley
Good, she’s getting sober.
My eyes roam over her frame. She’s of medium height and the pyjama set she’s wearing shows off her lovely curves.
“We should talk,” I say.
“Okay. Let’s talk.”
“Tomorrow, when you’re in better shape.”
“I’m fine. I’ve had only three bottles of beer. That’s nothing.”
“You don’t tolerate alcohol, I guess.”
“I’ve never tried alcoholic drinks before, that’s all.”
“You wanted to be a rebel, huh?”
She says something but it’s too quiet to know the meaning. A swear word I suspect.
My eyes slide down the front of her white vest. Her black bra is visible through the fabric. Her black knickers are visible through the pink fabric of her shorts.
“I don’t need a nanny,” she says.
“I’m staying. End of discussion.”
She salutes me and turns her back towards me. My eyes roam over her round ass seated on a pair of perfect curvy legs. My dick awakes.
I haven’t been with a woman for a while and Rose is a young woman. Why would I not react to her delicious curves?
I clear my throat. “Ready for our vacation?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She turns to face me.
“Rose, I will say that only once. You are going. You are not moving out. You are going to med school.” I wink at her.
I see her grit her teeth and then she drops her head. Her body shakes.
“Rose, baby, what is it?”
It’s probably me. She’s always hated me. Why would she not? I wanted to date her mother when she needed her the most and then I killed her mother.
Rose was very quiet after the funeral. Tara told me that. I was too drunk for too long. When I got sober, Rose was detached and polite to me. Until tonight. She’s never disobeyed me, never provoked us into any argument, but again never looked at me like I was a nice person not her enemy. Not to mention that we haven’t spent much time together. That’s going to change.
I want to spend more time with her, to get to know her better.
I want…
Driven by my primal instincts, I move closer to her and pull her into my arms. She shudders against my chest and that wakes something inside me. It’s a dark and possessive entity. No, it’s an unstoppable beast.
“We’ll have fun, Rose. There’ll be fishing and hiking.”
“All the stuff that’s good for you and Lucas,” she mumbles into my chest.
Her body stiffens against mine and that pisses me off. I want her to relax and be happy. I realise I want her to cling to me. I want her to touch me. I want her to rub her chest up mine as a wife would rub her body up her husband’s and that sends excitement to my veins. Sends more heat to my hard dick.
I stroke her back up and down with my palm. “We could go for a walk or something. Walking is a girly activity, right?” I lower my head and inhale the aura of her hair. It smells divine—lilies, oranges and her own musk. She feels divine, enclosed in my arms, pressed to me. “You like walking in the woods.”
“I do indeed.” She tries to wiggle out of my embrace, but I immobilise her against my chest.
“Rose, look at me.”
“I want to go to bed.”
Why is she not looking at me? “I said look at me.”
Her blazing eyes lock onto mine. Her iris has a unique green colour with grey flecks like she’s a wolf. Its coldness contradicts the red flame of her wavy hair.
Now, her eyes are as fierce as a hell fire though—two flares against the porcelain glow of her skin. I notice a few freckles on her cheeks. I’ve never seen them before or maybe I haven’t paid enough attention. Everything feels so new about her in this moment.
I stifle the urge to run my thumb down her cheek.
I stifle the urge to kiss her full shiny lips.
Fuck, I want to slap her firm ass.
“Talk to me, Rose.”
I know deep down she should go to bed or something bad will happen.
“Why are you trying to humiliate me even more?” she shrieks.
“Humiliate? Rose, I just want to help.”
I draw her even closer to me and kiss her on the top of her head. I just want to help, don’t I?
Chapter 4
Rose
I try to wiggle out of his embrace, but my attempt is futile. My heart pounds in my chest and sweat trickles down between my breasts.
Fifteen minutes ago, he saw me throw up, and I want to die of embarrassment.
I want to hide in my bedroom and mummify in there.
Why is he holding me in his arms like this? I’m trapped, enslaved within the citadel of his body, too weak to escape him.
He hugs me only on my birthdays. He squeezes my shoulder when he drops me off to school. I’m like a shadow in the background to him.
He’s never looked at me like I am a person, a girl. I’m the unpleasant mirage he wants to disappear.
So, I’m plastered to him and something causes my breath to stop in my throat. Something hard. Something dangerous and unexpected. Heat rushes up my chest and pours over my cheeks. Blood pumps in my ears.
His cock is rock-hard and it’s digging into my tummy.
I raise my head and my eyes shift towards his.
Why is he doing this to me? I’m not her. She’s dead.
I only look like her.
No, I don’t. My hair is darker and my eyes are different.
Everyone knows she’s been haunting Seke since the accident.
Anger wells up in my chest.
I’m not my mother.
“Let go of me,” I gasp.
“I want to help.”
His husky voice makes me shiver. I see the lust burning in his eyes.
No.
Not like this.
I’m not some bar trash. I’m not some replacement.
“She’s in the cemetery, Seke.”
“Who?”
“My mother. Maybe you should go visit her.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
His grip loosens and that’s my chance to wiggle out.
“Goodnight,” I say, pulling away from him.
His rigid glance immobilises me for an instant. “I want you to be seated in my car at seven in the morning.”
I salute him and notice that my gesture pisses him off. I grab a glass of water and rush over to the stairs. It seems like we both need solitude.
Thoughts tumble in my head.
I don’t want to remember her, to remember them together. My mother is the thorn in my heart, the suffocating piece of rope around my throat. Seke is the wound that’s been bleeding and burning since I met him.
I try to kill my thoughts, but they don’t want to die.
Seke
I watch her disappear into the dimness of the staircase and then I walk over to the living room. My phone rings as I drop onto the sofa. I take it out of the pocket in my jeans and look at the screen. It’s Lucas.
“You okay, buddy?” I ask.
“Prez,” he says in a drunken voice. “There’s a situation.”
“I’m all ears.” He’s never been that drunk or is it my wishful thinking? “Talk to me, Lucas.”
“There’s a girl.”
Right. I’ve seen him flirting with a petite blonde twice.
“You’re not going on our vacation, right, Lucas?”
“You know, Prez, this is kind of important.”
“Go have fun. I’ll take care of Rose.”
“Thanks, Prez.”
So, just me and her. My bike instead of the car.
Excitement rushes through my veins.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and put my elbows on my thighs. My head drops.
I should go by car. I should take a chaperone with us.
I should stop thinking about her. But I can’t.
I want to show her my world. I want to learn her worl
d. I want to wrap her up in my respect for her and touch her soul.
I want to own her body.
That’s my most important need now.
Rose
My eyes are dry and red from the lack of sleep. My head throbs. My stomach feels as small as a dried plum. I step out of the house and see Seke sitting on his bike. The morning sun’s rays illuminate the droplets of condensation on the lawns, chasing off the streaks of delicate mist. The leaves of the tree rustle and glitter like emeralds. The air is still a bit chilly, the last exhalation of the forgotten night, but the day’s brightness licks my skin with pleasant heat.
“Where is the car?” I mumble, blinking a few times in a row.
“In the garage. Jump on the bike.”
“Where’s Lucas?”
“In his new girlfriend’s bed?”
What a surprise.
I don’t know whether I’m more scared or more angry. Lucas has always had a lot of freedom. I’ve always been treated like a precious gem—no dates, no alcohol and no freedom. Yes, a little ruby incapable of making any kind of decisions.
Tara is the best sister I could wish for, but she’s always followed Seke’s rules for my brother and me. It’s a motorcycle club after all. Prez orders—his people obey. Everyone has respect for Seke. He’s a good leader and the boys would do anything for him.
Seke jumps off and tears my bag away from my hand. He secures it at the back of his bike and shoves me forward.
“We’re going on a vacation, Rose. Smile. It’ll be fun.”
Dread fills my veins.
Seke leans over his bike, straightens, and I see a red rose in his hand. Droplets of sparkly moisture adorn the petals. I step back. He moves closer to me and hands me the flower.
“A red rose for the reddest Rose in the world,” he says. “We’re going to have a lovely vacation, I promise.”
I’m speechless. He must have woken Sam so that she would open the little shop with toys, flowers, and souvenirs for him.
My fingers close around the rose and the thorns pierce my skin. My head drops as a hiss escapes my mouth. A strong grip around my wrist causes my eyes to shift up. Seke takes the rose away from my hand.
“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks with genuine concern as he takes a closer look at my palm.
“No.” I decide to be honest. Seke has the ability to know whether a person lies or not. My eyes sweep over three red marks on my skin. They’re not bleeding. “Maybe that was because of the alcohol.”
“Tara said you suffered from occasional insomnia.”
“It’s not that bad.” I huff out. “Thank you for the rose. It’s beautiful.”
He massages my palm with his thumb. “You are beautiful.”
It’s like lightning has struck me.
I jerk my hand away from his. My face starts to burn. My heart stops beating.
He didn’t just say that. I must have imagined him saying that. He never says things like that, not to me at least. Maybe he says such things to his women, but I’m not his woman.
The last night’s incident meant nothing, just a man reacting to the random pair of big tits topping an even bigger ass. That’s men.
“Jump on the bike, Rose.”
I feel like something has kicked me. With my limbs stiff, I settle myself on his bike. I’m moving with the grace of an average slug. My eyes are glued to the ground. I want to evaporate.
Seke
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. She’s only eighteen. I’m forty-one. I feel like a teen. It’s been like this since yesterday.
No, it’s been like this for a while. I didn’t realise this until now.
I can’t get her out of my head.
I didn’t sleep much last night. My thoughts circled around her—her lips, her hair, her full tits. Her round ass.
Maybe it’s just her perfect body.
A mature man shouldn’t yearn for such a young woman, right?
I put the rose into the bag and settle myself on my bike. As I start the engine, Rose wraps her arms around my chest and clings to me. It feels so fucking good.
I know I shouldn’t even think about her.
I killed her mother.
I should take care of her and give her away to the world.
I will.
No, I won’t. I want to keep her only for myself.
“Hold on to me, baby girl,” I say.
Rose shifts on her seat, her hands clutching the edges of my cut. It feels right. It feels like she belongs on my bike and with me.
Martha didn’t feel like this.
Martha felt like a nice woman that could do perfect as both my friend and my lay.
Rose feels like part of me. Like my present and future. I want to own her, lock her up in my bedroom, tie her naked body to my bed. She makes a bad possessive man out of me.
I rev up and Rose shudders against me. What would it feel like if she shuddered like this, naked, beneath me, with my cock buried inside her to the root? My desire rises and forms a bulge in my jeans. Fucking hell. Like a teen.
My bike shoots forward, and I focus on riding it.
Martha’s face flashes through my mind. The memory of her death has been haunting me like a malicious ghost.
A sense of shame surges through me.
Rose is untouchable. Sacred.
Off limits to me.
Rose
We ride along narrow village roads, walls of greenery sheltering us. His cut smells of leather and tobacco. Of him. He’s like the primal exhale of the forest and like the roughness of a mountain.
But he can be gentle.
I remember how gentle he was with my mother. Bitterness fills my heart. She was a perfect woman for him, smart, elegant, and hard working. I’m her caricature. I kill off my thoughts, my feelings, but a flame of anger follows.
My brother?
He has the right to live happily, fall in love, and choose his own path.
We kind of became strangers to each other after my mother’s funeral, but we started to talk more when he went to university. It seems like he wants to be my brother again. Well, I never stopped being his sister.
I’ve seen him with some blonde skunk a few times. She won’t last for long. As didn’t all the others before her.
He loves only one woman and she’s off limits.
What a comedy.
The sun rises to its peak and rules over the world in full bloom, but then a transient drizzle spoils the nice weather.
We stop by a café. My ass is sore from the ride. I flop from the bike with the support of Seke’s hand.
“Hungry?” Seke asks.
“A bit.”
He flashes me a genuine smile. My God, he’s such a beautiful man. How many nights have I dreamed about him? Countless. Ever since I can remember. I’ve always been in love with him.
He leads me over to the café. We go through the roofed door with two wooden pillars. The interior greets us with rustic details and a homey atmosphere. We settle ourselves at a table and a waitress walks over to us. My hands start to shake. I don’t feel good in such places. I’m always scared that I’ll drop the fork or splash the food against the table.
“Rose?” Seke glances at me, his face stripped of emotions.
He’s always so composed, so mysterious, like he’s not a human being. Angels must be like him.
“Can you order for me?” I mumble. “The same as yours.”
He nods. “Sure.”
The waitress takes our order and walks off.
“You’re tired, huh?” he says.
I bob my head at him. My eyes flick over my thighs as my hands start sweating. I’m sitting in the café with the most gorgeous man on the face of the earth, and I’ll do something stupid at any moment, I’m certain.
A strong hand clasps mine and my foot jerks aside, nudging a leg of the table. I raise my eyes to Seke’s.
“Rose, what’s wrong?”
Your hand holding my sweaty one is wrong
. I’m disgusting, can’t you see?
The waitress delivers the drinks to our table and flashes Seke a flirty smile. My heart sinks. She’s an intense brunette and radiates a good sense of humour. I can’t chat. I can’t tell jokes. I’m fat and she’s slim.
My mother could tell jokes.
Nikusha sometimes tells me about her lovely sense of humour. I’m like her distortion—clumsy, weird, and mute. She was slim and fit. I’m a slug.
“A family vacation?” the waitress asks with a Spanish sounding accent.
“A honeymoon,” Seke says as he brings my hand up to his lips and plants a kiss on my knuckles. He winks at me. “We’ve been married for two weeks.”
The waitress’s eyes flutter as though she’s confused, but then she beams at us. “Congratulations on your marriage then.” She sounds genuine, her hands folded as if praying.
I watch her walk off as Seke moves his chair closer to mine.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I chuckle. “I don’t know. You want me to pretend to be your wife. That’s… interesting.”
“I want you to feel comfortable. We don’t need any distractions.”
I don’t know whether I should be thrilled or angry. He’s saying strange things. He’s doing strange things. He’s acting like I’m important to him.
Like I’m a woman to him.
I was a woman to him last night even though today it all seems like a fading dream.
I was throwing up and he was watching me. A shooting pain courses through my heart as embarrassment burns through my veins.
“Rose, baby?”
“Sorry for the last night. I was behaving like an average pig.”
Seke chuckles as he throws his arm over my back and pulls me to him. He kisses me on the top of my head. “You can get drunk with me if you want to. With me, so that I could take care of you.”
It sounds somehow dangerous, but strangely tempting.
“I’ve had enough for now.” My voice falters. “I don’t need alcohol in life. I don’t even like the taste.”
He looks contented. “When your med school starts there’ll always be someone to watch over you.”
“Like a chaperone?”
He nods. “I want you to study not to party.”
I don’t like the roughness in his voice. “I’m a good girl, don’t worry.”
My catholic school comprised only fifty girls. I had a single room. I got the best grades in my year group. The nuns that run the school were always strict and dry—no boys, no naughty thoughts, and no freedom. Instead, I had books, simple meals, prayers, lessons on good manners and dreams. And a greenery maze. I loved it. I could spend hours walking along its high aromatic walls, getting lost, finding a way out. Imagining Seke to be there with me.