Don't Say It: Ronacks Motorcycle Club

by Debra Kayn

  He put the cigarette out on the thigh of his jeans.

  There was no way he'd put himself through that shit again. Sex was sex. Gia would have to figure that out on her own so he could go back to having his quiet life back with no responsibilities once he made her world safe again.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chilled to the bone after riding home from the clubhouse in the cool night air, Gia snuggled down underneath the covers seeking warmth while Swiss finished talking outside to the two Ronacks members patrolling the duplex for the night.

  A shiver rolled over her spine. She brought her knees up to her chest. Riding the motorcycle, especially at night, always made her nervous that someone would shoot her. An open target to anyone driving by, she'd clung to Swiss's back and kept her eyes closed.

  As if no warning of her demise would be better than knowing what would happen a few seconds later if she found a gun raised in her direction, she willingly tried to live in the moment and take her cue from Swiss.

  The wait for something awful to happen was driving her crazy and yet Swiss's calmness and experience at protecting others helped her. Just as sex with him helped her calm down and find enough strength to stand her ground.

  He'd assured her he had her covered, and the riders in front of them and behind them provided that added security. At night, alone with him, he assured her again with sex that he would take care of her. Never before had she been needy to the point of desperation, but she found herself looking forward to letting Swiss take care of her.

  Maybe sex with Swiss let her have an excuse not to think too deeply. She exhaled harshly. She was so full of it. Since coming here, she'd reevaluated her whole life. From her dissatisfaction continuing in the same kind of work she'd done in Seattle to what she wanted for her future, including what type of man she wished she had.

  Swiss fit everywhere in her life. In bed and out of bed. She wanted him.

  The front door shut. She moistened her lips. Today, while talking to Bree and Raelyn, she realized that she envied what they both had in their lives. Not the hardships, but the sense of family they each found within Ronacks Motorcycle Club. While she imagined they both struggled with outside stresses—Raelyn being a single mother and Bree being the wife of the president—they were strong women. Much stronger than her.

  How many times in the past had she wanted to step out of her comfort zone and enjoy the sexual side of her, but something always held her back. First, taking care of her parents had put any kind of sex life on the back burner. Then lately, she looked for a relationship and refused to settle for one night stands. Here she was in Haugan, out of her area, scared of being killed, and the sexiest man she'd ever met is offering her exactly what she'd always wanted.

  She'd be a fool to turn him down and waste the energy to fight her attraction to him.

  He was perfect for her. No obligations and free to leave at any time.

  Their sexual chemistry was mind-blowing and wonderful, and to deny them both would only make her more miserable.

  Swiss walked into the bedroom and stopped at the sight of her already in bed. A smile tugged at her lips. Was he really surprised?

  On the way home, when they hit Main Street, he'd reached back and rubbed her thigh. She'd propped her chin on the back of his shoulder and enjoyed the way he drew circles on her leg as he cruised down the street.

  That one finger touching her was enough to get her blood pumping. By the time she walked into the duplex, she was ready to strip and have sex. Until two Ronacks members stopped by and wanted to speak with Swiss alone, and the chill in the air permeated her skin.

  "Tired?" Swiss took off his vest and set it on the dresser.

  She watched him from her pillow. "Not really. I was cold."

  He grunted, bent at the waist, and took off his boots. She removed her arm out from under the blanket and propped her head up with her hand to watch him. Age wise, he was older than her by at least ten or fifteen years, but he was in better shape. Her stomach warmed. If only she could eat the same diet as him and look so good.

  "How old are you?" she asked.

  Swiss's gaze went to the ceiling before he answered. "Forty-five."

  Swiss removed his clothes without any modesty, almost proud of his body. She moved her gaze up to his face and caught him looking at her. That same intense expression aimed at her melted her insides because she now recognized his interest. The same one that made him squint.

  He stalked to the bed, crawled under the covers, and his cold hands found her hip. She yipped, jerking away, and he pulled her back along his length.

  His fingers kneaded her curve. "Warm me up."

  She willingly rolled with him until she was on top, her legs sprawled alongside his hips, and her breasts pressed against his chest.

  "The rest of you is warm," she whispered.

  "Bet your mouth is hotter." He lifted his right eyebrow.

  Her breath hitched on a reply, knowing she had nothing to say because she was open to anything he suggested. Instead of answering, she squirmed down his body until her head disappeared underneath the blanket.

  She kissed his chest, his abdomen, each hip, and settle between his legs. In the dark, blind to his body, she had to use her hand to find his cock. The moment she wrapped her fingers around his girth, his dick pulsed harder. The heady masculine scent she concluded as musk, outdoors, and leather filled her nose.

  She moistened her lips and then lowered her head and licked the underside of his cock, from balls to head, and then circled around the rim of his dick.

  Swiss's thighs hardened against her. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from smiling in satisfaction. He'd done more to her last night with his mouth, and if she gave Swiss half the pleasure she'd received, he was happy.

  Opening her mouth, she encompassed his cock. A soft moan escaped her throat, and she slid down on him. His legs flexed, and she slowly pulled back, sucking harder until she reached the head of his dick and went down again.

  Up.

  Down.

  She slipped her hands under his ass, holding him in place while she lavished him with her tongue. The power and confidence she craved from Swiss was given to her freely. He let her have her freedom to play with him. Anything she wanted to do to him, he'd allow.

  The blanket slid down her body, and a rush of cool air flowed over her. She opened her eyes and gazed up Swiss's body to find him holding his head up with his hands and peering down at her.

  His oak brown eyes appeared almost black with arousal.

  "Get on your hands and knees." His deep voice rolled over her, and she gently let go of his cock and crawled over his legs and assumed the position he wanted.

  The sheet under her knees warmed from his body only heightened her arousal. Swiss got behind her and pulled her back until her feet hung off the edge of the bed. She widened her knees and laid her head on the blanket.

  Propped up, open to his view, turned her on.

  He ran his finger over her slit, spreading her wetness. She sucked in her breath, electrified by his touch. He made everything seem simple. One touch, one look, one word, and she practically orgasmed.

  "Hard," she said with a gasp.

  "You want me to fuck you hard?"

  "Yes." She fisted the blanket and hissed. "Please..."

  His hand at her hip disappeared. She turned her head and found him grabbing a condom off the dresser and rolling it on his cock. Her legs shook in need.

  He returned to her with his hand wrapped around his hardness and positioned himself at the opening of her pussy. "Hold on, sweet."

  She turned her head, facing the headboard, and stretched her arms above her on the bed, grabbing the sheet when he plunged inside her. The fullness took her breath away, and her eyes rolled back behind her lids.

  "God, yes." She held her body stiff as he withdrew, plunged, and owned her.

  He took everything away from her and controlled how she thought, felt, and even how she accepted him
. Free from constraints and worries, she soared.

  Each stroke took her higher. She pushed back against him, rocking on her hands and knees, and arching her neck. He held her hip and grabbed a fistful of her hair, holding her in front of him, banging against her.

  His balls slapped her clit. She bucked, panting for the ultimate pleasure that hovered at the edges of her senses.

  "That's it," he said, groaning.

  Her pussy constricted, and deep inside of her tightened until she let go with a muffled scream. Then her release hit her, flooding her body with pleasure. Her thighs quivered. Her breath whooshed out of her. Her head fell forward as he released her hair.

  Swiss grabbed her hips, made three more thrusts, and he planted himself fully inside of her and shuddered with his climax.

  Weak and semi-unconscious except for what came natural—like breathing, she closed her eyes. Glad that Swiss held her hips or she'd flop down on the bed spent and ungraceful.

  Suddenly, he slapped her ass. She jolted and sprung forward on the bed, turning to land on her butt.

  She spotted his grin and gaped at him. "I can't believe you did that."

  He chuckled and removed the condom, putting it in the small wastebasket at the side of the bed. "It was a good fuck, Gia."

  She raised her brows and reached for the blanket to cover her body and her shock. "Wow, I can't say anyone has ever told me that before, Swiss. At least, not using such delightful terms."

  He flung himself down on the bed, pulled her to his side, and covered them both. "Just telling you what I'm thinking."

  She lay stiffly beside him. Fine, he wanted to prove a point. He'd succeeded. She heard him loud and clear.

  "It was good, but..." She turned to her side, facing away from him. "I've had better."

  Dead silence filled the room. She sighed quietly, already feeling guilty for being rude. She couldn't even remember all the times she'd had sex or her previous relationships. Swiss had wiped her mind of everything, except what happened in the last half hour.

  The light beside Swiss's side of the bed went out. He rolled closer and spooned her. "You're so full of shit," he mumbled against her ear.

  With cold reality swiftly sinking in came their agreement and the reason why she was sleeping next to a man who'd used her for sex.

  She stared into the darkness of the room. A terrible flood of homesickness hit her.

  She missed her bed, her home, her job.

  She missed her coworkers who she'd called friends.

  She missed going to sleep every night looking forward to tomorrow.

  "Stop thinking, sweet," whispered Swiss. "I'll stay right here with you, and you can sleep."

  At least she had Swiss.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Gia woke with a start. The pitch dark room greeted her. It wasn't morning waking her up but a dream that the killers had broken in and stood beside the bed.

  She reached out for Swiss seeking his comfort, found his side of the bed empty, and sat up fully awake. It wasn't the first night or the second that she'd found Swiss gone from the bed. He had a habit of getting up after she fell asleep.

  She grabbed the throw blanket from the floor, wrapped it around her chilled body, and went looking for him.

  In the living room, Swiss stood in front of the partially closed window staring out into the night. She approached him from the back, opened the blanket, and wrapped them both in the warmth. His nude body hot to the touch, she kissed his back.

  "Is everything okay," she whispered, surprised that after having sex with her he'd still have the energy to stay up through the night.

  His upper body expanded with air. "Yeah, you should go back to bed, it's two in the morning."

  "Why don't you come with me?" She moved around his large body and stood in front of him.

  His muscles remained tense. She rubbed his bare sides. He made no move to leave his perch at the window.

  "Please?" She stepped away, trying one more time, and glad when he turned and followed.

  Back in bed, she snuggled against his side and covered them both with the sheet and blanket. Swiss's body remained tight, and he stayed quiet. Normally not a talker, his silence wouldn't have bothered her if it was the middle of the day.

  At night, his lack of words and distance only made her want to get closer. He seemed to shed his loner status and welcome her closer. It was one of the reasons why they got along so well. He never demanded answers she wasn't prepared to hand him, and his quietness soothed her in her current frazzled state.

  "Swiss?" she asked.

  His hand came down to claim her hip, and she took that as a reply.

  "Do you ever wonder what it'll be like when everything is over, and we both go back to our real lives?" She rubbed her hand in a circle on his hard stomach, suspecting he wouldn't tell her what was bothering him, but she'd try her best to distract him from his solemn mood.

  "It's easier if you don't think about what will happen tomorrow," he said after a few seconds. "Just concentrate on making it through each day."

  "That's impossible," she whispered, knowing she'd never forget Swiss. Not in a month, a year, a lifetime.

  She refused to believe that he never thought of the future and what'll happen when she goes back to Seattle. The top of her head tingled, and she shivered.

  He pulled her closer. She stretched her neck, needing to know every single thing about him before she was gone. "Why does everyone call you Swiss?"

  "Short for Swiss Army knife. Got the name when I prospected for Ronacks and it stuck." He inhaled deeply and let the air out.

  "How did you get your scar?" She gazed up at him in the dark.

  "That's enough talking." His chest hardened underneath her hand.

  "One more thing." She softened her voice, lowering her head to his chest. "Can I text you? Maybe call you a couple of times once everything is over, and I go back to Seattle?"

  The seconds ticked by in silence. Gia's heartbeat echoed in her ears. Until she'd asked, she had no idea how much she worried about never hearing his gruff voice again or being able to touch him. She already missed him.

  "Yeah," he whispered. "You can call."

  Her breath whooshed out of her, and she closed her eyes in relief. She wouldn't say thank you. Not this time. She'd give him no reason to change his mind.

  The ground she'd broken and the huge step Swiss gave her, energized her. She couldn't go to sleep. The unknown time she had left with him too important to waste.

  She hovered her hand over his stomach, skimming the short trail from his navel to under his boxer shorts and let the hair tickle her palm. His body fascinated her. All hardness and bulging strength, unlike her lower stomach which was soft and bare.

  Over time, and during their nightly habit of sleeping with each other, she'd lost her hesitation on touching him. She loved to explore and find out what he enjoyed. Time worked against her, and she needed to know everything about him.

  Slipping her hand inside his boxers, she cupped his balls and marveled at the way they drew up against his body. His skin tightening and protective. She gently scratched his sack and smiled against his chest when he widened his legs and sighed in contentment.

  She'd never known a man who liked his balls scratched as much as Swiss. A delightful secret she'd found out a few nights ago when he'd softened and grunted his approval when her fingernail had scratched him. Not sure if she had read him right, she down swept her fingernails against the skin holding his balls and he practically sighed in pleasure.

  Swiss's breathing deepened and lengthened. His body relaxed. She continued lazily scratching, glad to have something to do to help him. He was getting antsy cooped up in the duplex with her, knowing the other Ronacks members worked during the day. It was the least she could do to help him adjust to the many changes she'd brought into his life.

  "What woke you up?" she whispered, unable to stay quiet.

  He yawned. "Couldn't sleep."

  "
Is it because I'm here?"

  "Just not a big sleeper." He patted her hip.

  She stopped scratching. "What about when you were married?"

  Ever since she'd spotted the picture of his daughter and him in the living room, she'd wanted to ask him questions about his family. She knew he was divorced, but he avoided any talk about marriage in general or any kind of family life.

  "Like I said, I don't need much sleep." He rolled over to his side. "I need your pussy."

  "Oh?" She laughed softly, lifting her leg and putting it on his hip. "You needed it earlier, too."

  He growled into her neck and slipped his hand between her legs. His finger slid along her wetness. "It doesn't matter if I need you, or you need me, your pussy is wet, and my dick is hard."

  She caressed his head, holding him to her, and pressed against his hand. He was right, she wanted him. She loved the connection when they had sex. Everything else ceased to exist.

  "God, that feels good." She squirmed.

  He slipped a finger inside of her and used his thumb to caress her clitoris. She shuddered at the contact, still sensitive from earlier.

  "Let me feel you come, sweet." He pressed up inside of her and her legs shook at the instant jolt of pleasure tightening inside of her.

  He stroked her G-spot and had her quivering, every nerve in her body tightening and reaching. She rolled her hips, unable to think or participate. Swiss took charge, and her body willingly bowed to him.

  "Oh, God." She panted, clutching his shoulder with one hand afraid he'd stop and holding his head in the other, holding him close.

  "That's it," he whispered through his harsh breathing.

  Her body overheated and pleasure hit her hard, throwing her into an orgasm. She fiercely rippled against him, pure joy emitting from her with her release, and she laughed softly in his ear as she curled around him.