Enough

by Jade Chandler

  I noticed men leaving the club, but Dare wasn’t among them.

  “Yeah, sounds great, I’m parched.”

  “Imagine so, after all that screaming.”

  We both broke out in laughter. I could do this, especially if there were more like Suzie.

  Zayn worked the bar, which had definite possibilities. Suzie stopped to chat with a guy I didn’t know, but I kept going to the bar. I cajoled Zayn into making me a virgin Captain and Coke and giving the alcohol version to anyone asking what I drank. After my ear-catching entrance, I wanted to avoid attention. I had a feeling my no-alcohol policy would stand out here.

  I followed Suzie back to a picnic table, where we joined six other ladies, including the two old ladies I’d just met, Sarah and Andi, both looking more like the girl next door than an old lady. The other four had hard eyes and baked brown tans with cigarette lines around their lips. These women screamed old lady and proud of it. Most were close to MJ’s age, I guessed. I sat between Suzie and Sarah and sipped my drink, listening a lot and saying little. Already I’d tripled my understanding of the club.

  I shifted in my seat and the glass balls inside me moved. It wasn’t bad, not like on the bike, but it distracted me.

  “Lila’s in a category all her own.” The sharp-nosed old lady peered at me. I couldn’t remember her name.

  I kept my face blank.

  “Being the only biker’s girl. The rest are sheep or old ladies.” Her cold smile chilled me.

  “Jayna and Frankie might disagree.” Andi’s voice held definite snark.

  And the conversation sped away. Apparently those two girls were hot gossip material. Listening to the conversation, I learned even more about the tricky middle ground of being a girlfriend. The table gave me a list of dos and don’ts while maligning the girls. I almost felt sorry for those two, based on the way these women talked about them.

  Do be loyal to one biker at a time—a definite problem and one the two girls were the worst at.

  Do show respect and help your guy.

  Do serve the club.

  The prohibitions were longer.

  Don’t act like sheep—again a problem for the two girls.

  Don’t act like an old lady. The same lady who started the topic glared at me.

  Don’t get too drunk, like vomiting drunk. Specific stories followed.

  Don’t do drugs.

  Don’t pit bikers against each other.

  Don’t stick your nose in Brotherhood business.

  Don’t pressure your guy to miss club duties.

  Don’t stay in the shadows.

  I missed a few, but already the rules stacked up in my mind, so I stood to refill my drink. This sounded like my old life where the men I wanted only wanted me if I followed all the rules. And I’d never been good enough for them. I got the definite impression some of these women didn’t think I’d be good enough for Dare.

  But then I remembered Suzie and MJ and most of all, Dare. They made it sound simple. I’d be myself and that had to be good enough or not.

  What a liar I am. I’ll kill myself trying to live up to every one of those standards.

  Dare headed my way. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. I needed to escape. He stormed toward me frowning at my cup, and I sighed. Apparently, he’d asked Zayn what I drank.

  “Red—” His voice low and rumbly did something to me.

  I jumped up. “Hey.” I planted a big kiss on him. “Help me out.” I whispered the words.

  He swept me away from the table in seconds and headed for the back entrance we’d used earlier. I stopped him at the swing MJ and I had used.

  “I thought—”

  “I can wait, a bit.” The balls did have my juices flowing. “You had questions?”

  “How did you know?” He scowled at me. “You should’ve told me you don’t drink. Do you want to go home? While I can drive?”

  What? Why? “I thought you knew I didn’t drink.”

  “Hunh?”

  “From Blue’s, I didn’t drink there.” I dug fingernails in my palms. “I’ll go, if you want me to?”

  He tipped up my chin. “I’ll be fucked up before the night’s over.”

  “Yeah.” I hoped to see him a bit out of control.

  “But it’s not fun being the sober one.”

  Now I understood. I kissed his cheek and put my mouth to his ear. “I’m batshit crazy sober, bring it, Dare. I can hang.”

  Challenge burned in his blue eyes. “Sounds like a dare.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You know I got my name because I can’t turn down a dare.” His lips twisted in a sensual smile.

  “That has possibilities.”

  Then we were in the same room again. This time I had enough wits to notice my surroundings. Paneling hung on the wall. Dare backed me onto a full bed with a tired green spread. A dented and scraped dresser stood in a corner across from me. A closet stood half ajar with nothing inside.

  He untied my red halter and jerked it down to my waist. His mouth on my breasts, we fell back onto the bed and he moved beside me, biting my nipple while he lifted my skirt. All too soon he’d pushed me over again, relieving the pressure the balls had created.

  Eventually we made it back to the party and grabbed food. Ten tables of food made it impossible to try everything. Even so, my plate overflowed, though nothing like Dare’s two heaping plates. We sat down next to bikers I didn’t know. Seats opened up and Gimp and Suzie sat down with us. Gimp’s gaze raked over me and he smirked.

  No doubt I had a just-been-fucked look, but at least this time I’d managed not to shout.

  “You sure you did it right?” Gimp asked Dare. “She didn’t scream.”

  I shoved my mouth full of food to avoid commenting.

  Dare chuckled. “I did it right, old man. You need a hearing aid.”

  And then they were off in a discussion about ink and guns. Then the conversation switched to drinks. And Dare admitted he was behind.

  “Boy, you better do shots with me, and catch the hell up.”

  Dare glanced at me so quickly I almost missed it.

  “Sounds like a dare to me. Go do me proud.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss.

  Laughing, they wandered off to the bar. Suzie scooted next to me. She smelled like cheap perfume and menthol, but her eyes crinkled with laugh lines.

  “Why don’t you drink?” Her words were quick and quiet.

  I blew out a breath. “It’s not a secret, I’m trying to stay off the radar, at least after my entrance. Don’t you think enough people are talking about me?”

  “You pregnant?” she accused me.

  “No.” My voice squeaked at the idea. One day, but not at twenty-four with a guy who didn’t even want to commit to me. “Never been a drinker. I got daddy issues, good enough?” It better be, because I wouldn’t share my baggage with her or anyone.

  Chapter Twelve: Lila

  A bit later, Dare laughed with his hand on Gimp’s back as they walked toward us. He glanced at me with soft eyes, like when he gave me his special smile—relaxed, happy or just chill. He and Gimp wandered off to visit with more bikers, so I followed Suzie back to the table where we’d sat earlier.

  Two of the old ladies, Andi and Sarah, talked about when their guys, who worked with the club’s security company, would be home again. I sensed both missed their husbands, but they didn’t complain. I would if my man left for three months at a time, and wondered how they survived it. A few hours without Dare created a hole too large to fill.

  The time passed easily in the company of the three ladies. Around nine Andi and Sarah stood to go. According to Sarah, after dark wasn’t fun without their men.

  The women quieted, and their gazes fixed beyond my b
ack, so I glanced over my shoulder. A lithe biker with russet hair swaggered toward our table and sat down next to me.

  “You, me, lots of orgasms equals happiness beyond imagination.” He spoke the horrible line with a straight face. Normally I would’ve laughed, but the stillness of the others told me this was serious.

  “I’m Rebel, the best—and I mean best—at fucking you senseless.” His hand moved toward mine, but I moved it away. His heavy beer breath wafted across my face.

  “Sorry, I’m Dare’s property.”

  “For how long?” He spread his legs wide like he owned the world. Or to give me a view of his award-winning crotch.

  “Ask Dare, not his property.”

  He laughed loudly and stared at me with this intense expression while I held my breath. Finally, he stood with a slight sway and strolled away.

  “He and Dare have this competition thing.” Suzie spoke with a clipped quietness.

  “You did great, girl, but you better find your man. Safest way in the dark.” Andi glanced at Sarah.

  Were old ladies not safe in the dark without their biker next to them?

  Dare stomped toward me. “Goddammit, Lila. You fixed cherry cheesecake and didn’t tell me. Now it’s gone.”

  The ladies melted away. I grabbed his T-shirt and pulled him down for a kiss.

  “Follow me if you want cheesecake.”

  His frown became a lopsided smile. While we walked to the club kitchen, he pulled me into his side, resting his hand on my ass. I opened the fridge to show him the pan with his name on top.

  “All for you, MJ said you liked it.”

  “Son of a bitch, you cooked me both my favorites.” He kissed my nose before he grabbed the container. “Shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  “I take care of my man.” I jumped up on the stainless steel counter of the industrial-grade kitchen. I definitely had kitchen envy.

  He ate almost a third of the cheesecake from the pan before he fastened the lid and returned it to the fridge. “Thanks, Red. Stay with me now.”

  I sighed in relief. After Rebel, I didn’t want to be on my own. We walked out through the club. An odd assortment of tables were being pushed back, and a band set up on a stage.

  “Will you dance with me? I love it.” I did a little hop of joy.

  “Damn straight.” He glanced at me out of the side of his eye. “You doing okay?”

  I nodded. Playing wasn’t helping. “Let’s go for broke. Let it build, dance until I can’t stand it and then have you fuck me until I scream.”

  He stopped midstep and turned to me. “Perfect. Can you make it two or three hours?”

  I scoffed at his question. “Can you?”

  He grinned and grabbed my hand, and warmth spread through me as we wandered the party hand in hand. He intoxicated me. Dare’s public claiming tripped forever fantasies in my lust-soaked brain while my body quivered from the way those glass balls moved inside me. Three hours? I’d be so horny a stiff breeze might send me off.

  Finally, we settled next to Jericho and a few other guys.

  “This the screamer?” An exotically handsome guy with mocha skin and dark brown hair gave me the once-over. He didn’t have a beard either. Then I remembered him because he’d come to my place to get Veronica. What had Dare said his name was?

  “Otherwise known as Lila.” Dare drew me onto his lap where his stiff cock poked my ass. “Lila, this son of a bitch is Bear. Fair warning, he runs the porn business and liked your scream a bit too much.” Dare scowled at him but didn’t seem truly pissed, after all, he’d told me they were close.

  “You’re wasted at the shop. Come work for me. I can have you rolling in money. That body. That voice.”

  I laughed, but no one else did. “You’re serious?”

  “As a fucking heart attack.” Bear trapped me with his scary amber stare.

  My pulse raced and I started to freak out. Then I remembered what Dare told me, it was all my choice. I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to.

  “Thanks, Bear, for the compliment. But it’s not my thing.” I took deep breaths and tried to calm myself.

  The guy who looked entirely too small to be called Bear shrugged. I’d heard several veiled comments about him, but I hadn’t paid enough attention. I leaned into Dare and he relaxed.

  Had he been worried about what I’d say?

  Conversation swirled around me, and I soaked in the warm glow of being with him. He laughed, talked and drank half a bottle of Crown whiskey. But only his eyes showed his inebriation. He held his liquor well. When the sounds of the band warming drifted our way, I was ready to dance. Squirming on his lap, I tried to find a place that eased the movement of the damn balls. I ached from the stimulation, but I refused to give in.

  Dare bent to my ear. “Will you make it?”

  My gaze found his, and desire flashed between us. He grew harder under my ass. I reached up and dragged his head to mine, kissing him with all the pent-up frustration inside me. His hands moved to my breasts, but I leaned away. “Will you?”

  Someone, maybe Bear, muttered about waste, but I didn’t agree. We were about passion and connection so raw it consumed us. Dare’s chest tightened and his hand gripped my leg.

  “Dare, I want another crack at the title.” Rebel’s voice cracked in the night air.

  “Tomorrow’s a better race day,” Jericho said into the silence.

  “I bet old Lefty you’d be too wrapped up to race tonight,” Rebel sneered.

  What did he mean? I shifted, ignoring the pressure on my leg.

  “Oh, Lila, you know your man holds the title racing on his back wheel?”

  The race sounded dangerous. Stupid and dangerous.

  Rebel smiled like he’d already won.

  “He’s good at everything.” I relaxed into my guy, waiting on him.

  “Be back in a flash, Red.” Dare stood and swayed as I slipped off his lap.

  Fear climbed my spine and spread its cold dread through me, but for once I didn’t show it, at least I tried not to. And since no one looked at me funny, I must have succeeded.

  “Go kick ass, Dare. I’ll be here to congratulate you.” I lounged back in the chair like I didn’t give a damn. My guy was a badass biker who scared bikers, so I couldn’t do what I really wanted—beg him not to go.

  He leaned forward and kissed me, then turned and walked toward the front of the club.

  “Better haul ass, or I’ll beat you before you even get there,” Dare called without glancing back.

  Rebel sauntered after him.

  A dull roar of murmured words spread through the party until almost all the bikers and several of the women were by the race area.

  Suzie sat next to me. “I’ve seen him race twice as drunk. But it’s good for you not to go over. Don’t want to distract him.”

  I liked Suzie. We might even become friends, but I sure as hell didn’t need her yammering in my ear now. It took all my willpower not to puke. The idea of him racing—I didn’t have words for the uneasy dread stalking me.

  Suzie followed my cue, and we sat in silence. I drank my Coke, wishing it held something stronger. My pussy throbbed, stomach churned and head pounded. A trifecta made in hell.

  While it felt like hours, my watch said thirty minutes had passed before Dare returned triumphant. The news traveled ahead of him, and I gave him a hero’s welcome. He fell into my kiss, and we didn’t surface for some time.

  He broke away. “I need whiskey and a dance with my woman,” he roared to a round of cheers. Grabbing the bottle of Crown he’d set on the ground when he’d accepted the challenge, we stood together.

  Straightening, he pulled me into him, kissing my ear. “You good?”

  We strolled toward the club. “Ready for the f
inal windup, I’m slowly going insane from the constant stimulation.”

  He turned to me, concern shadowing his face. “You don’t have to do this. You can stop anytime. It’s about what works for you.”

  Dazed, I stared at him. No one ever checked on me, gave me an out, and tears welled but I blinked them away. I thought about what I wanted, making sure before I spoke. “I want it, crazy buildup and all, and when I explode, hell, they may hear us in Ardmore.”

  He jerked me to him and bit my neck while his hands rubbed over my backside.

  “I think, with you, I’d try about anything once, and I even have these ideas, kinky ideas, that I am curious about.”

  “Dammit, woman, let’s dance before I go crazy.” He swallowed a long drink of whiskey and then another.

  The band played Southern rock, mostly covers. My body twirled and moved against Dare, then he settled my ass into his crotch. I couldn’t think. My ass ground into him, unable to stop. He closed a hand over my crotch, touching my overstimulated clit.

  “Tits.” I panted the word. His hand snaked under my halter, and I spun in a dazed dance of his making. My winding movements were about release. Dare set the timing, or maybe we danced to the music of our bodies.

  When it hit me, I turned in to him, biting my lip and burying my head in his chest as the orgasm rocked me. When the world refocused, we swayed to a slow song. I stared blankly, lost in him. He swung us around to an outside table, where his bottle sat. Three huge gulps emptied the bottle.

  “It’s quit working,” he said to me. “I’ll dance until you’re ready but, baby, I’m ready.”

  “What quit working?”

  “The booze, to dull the throb of my dick,” he growled.

  He started to kiss me, but I ducked away, already moving to the dance floor and the fast tempo of the song.

  “You made a mistake, letting me come. I got three, four more songs in me.”

  He groaned, but followed me with a smirk on his face. The whiskey hit him in the third song, his graceful movements lost timing, his eyes turned glassy, and he was almost shouting. He’d moved past lit to fucked up.

  “Red, I can go all night.” His words were a tinge messy.