Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series

by Melissa Devenport

  The machines beside the bed registered it at the same time she did. A shrill screeching filled up the room. The door burst open and three nurses rushed in. Kayla was torn away from her mother’s side by one while two others worked over her.

  She was gone. She was really, truly gone. Her mother, her rock, her strength, her foundation, her entire world, was no more.

  “Kayla…. Kayla…”

  Her name, over and over, out of the darkness. Her father? Kayla struggled against the black tide sucking her under. Her father. It had to be her father. He was going to hate her. He’d hate her because he hadn’t been there. It was just her, and her mother was gone and she was going to have to tell him. She was going to have to lose her all over again when she saw the pain and grief in his eyes. From that minute, they were going to be forever adrift, forever alone. There was no more hope. There was just endless grief. Grief and pain and death and loss.

  “Kayla, wake up.”

  The deep voice finally cut through her dreams and Kayla opened her eyes, shaking the last vestiges of a deep sleep. The nightmare. She hadn’t had a dream about her mother in months. Why now?

  She glanced to the side, expecting to see her father’s worried face, but instead, a much younger, harder, chiseled one swam into view. Eyes as blue as a frozen lake or the sky on a lazy summer afternoon met hers. Thick lashes blinked. The face was beautiful, if rugged. A high forehead, strong brows and a stronger nose, bent wrong in two spots, like it had been broken more than once or twice. His cheekbones were hard and high and his jaw was just a little too sharp and hard, but it was softened by the black growth of a fresh beard. Midnight black, just like the short cropped hair on his head.

  He was naked from the waist up, her foggy brain registered. Black ink swirled over his broad shoulder, over the rippling muscle and tapered off down near his wrist. The ink sprawled over one pec, a continuation from the arm. A hard pec. His chest was solid rock, miles of chiseled muscle. A smattering of dark hair grazed skin that looked like it would be surprisingly soft over the hard muscle below. The weak light overhead cast a golden glow over the broad expanse and a few jagged ridges and lines stood out silver, souvenirs from a past very different than her own.

  “What are you doing in here?” she snapped when it finally clued in on her that the guy, Shawn, didn’t belong there. He didn’t belong in that room with her. They were in some little godforsaken house after her own place was shot up.

  Because sometime between the time she’d first begun to lose her mother, she’d lost her father too. Now she didn’t have a mother. And her father was no more than a stranger. A loving stranger, but a stranger all the same.

  “You were moaning, then you cried out. Woke me out of a dead sleep in the other room. I thought someone had busted their way in here and got past me.”

  Kayla backed up on the bed, away from Shawn. She glanced at the door to the bedroom, which was hanging from its hinges. The frame around it was splintered. “You kicked in the door,” she said stupidly.

  “Of course. If something happens to you, it’s my ass on the line.”

  “Right. You’re just worried about me because I’m another one of your jobs.” She curled in on herself. She’d fallen asleep on the bare mattress fully clothed, since there were no blankets to be found. She didn’t even have a pillow.

  “Of course. I lose you, I lose my nuts.”

  “How very poetic.”

  Shawn stood so abruptly the mattress dipped violently and almost tossed her like a see saw off the other end. She let out a low growl in her throat to let him know just how much she appreciated it. He swept a hand over his short hair.

  “What did you expect? I’m not exactly prince fucking charming. Think you can keep it down in here long enough for me to get some rest? You were moaning loud enough to wake the dead.”

  Her mouth fell open. She wanted to retort something back, but pressed her lips shut. There was no point. The guy was a Neanderthal.

  “If it wasn’t a nightmare, it was one hell of a dream. Next time invite me in here. I like a woman who isn’t afraid to make a little noise.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Kayla snarled.

  Recalling the details of the nightmare, she drew her knees up to her chest. She placed her face on the tops of them and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she could just disappear. At least disappear from the disgusting house she was in, away from the beast beside her. She was scared and she’d never felt more alone. Tears stung her eyes and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from sobbing. She wasn’t going to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing her break down like the princess he thought she was.

  She started when the warmth of his hand grazed her upper back. “Hey. I’m sorry. I’ve told you before I’m a dick. I’m not good with any of this. Normally I’m out on the street, riding my bike or doing dumb shit with the guys or shooting my mouth off with them. We don’t do soft. If you’re soft, you’re weak and weakness has no fucking place in my world. I- I haven’t babysat a woman before. Especially not one raised like you were.”

  Kayla slowly raised her head. Her tears had managed to dry up- for the moment. It was the one small mercy the entire shit day afforded. “You think I had some scary dream about my window getting shot in? Think again. There are so many things worse than a trigger happy piece of shit or a guy with a grudge.”

  Shawn straightened. He carefully retracted his hand and for some reason, Kayla felt colder without it there. She shivered and convinced herself it was just because she was soaking wet, her skin clammy with sweat and her clothes damp, and the night had begun to cool off and the temperature in the house had dropped.

  “Still. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Kayla raised a brow. She wanted to be pissed off. She wanted to be full of steam and boiling over with anger. She wanted to take her rage out at everything that happened on the man in front of her. Instead, she eyed the door, hanging shredded off its hinges. There was a hole through the bottom of it that she hadn’t noticed before. This man kicked in a door for her, while she was screaming in terror as the memories from the worst day of her life had returned to haunt her. This man had thrown her down and protected her with his body while bullets rained through her house. He’d taken the glass shower for her.

  It might have been just a job for him. He might get in trouble if something happened to her. He might be an asshole at heart. He was certainly rough and not just around the edges. He was dangerous and she shouldn’t be attracted to that. She told herself she wasn’t attracted to that. It was just…

  Without warning, the flood of words left her mouth. “I’ve been alone for a very long time. No one, not one single person, has looked at me like I matter. Like they wanted to really get to know me. Like they cared about what was going on- uh- inside. I had friends once, but when my mom got sick- or after- they just… got tired of trying to figure out the right thing to say, I guess. They didn’t know what to do or say, so it was easier not to do or say anything. Even my dad hasn’t been there. Him most of all. I know he loves me. He’s supported me and paid for- for everything, but he’s just not really… there. No one is. I’m so tired… of always being alone.”

  Shawn blinked and those wild blue eyes lit her up from the inside out. That was what was so different about him. Ever since he’d pulled her out of that dream, he’d stood there, staring at her like he actually saw her. Like she was a real person with real thoughts and emotions and feelings. Like he saw her, saw straight through the blackness inside of her and wasn’t afraid. He didn’t look away. He didn’t blink.

  “Yeah?” He cleared his throat loudly. “It’s hard to be alone. That’s why- why people end up where I’m at. Because we get tired of trying to make it alone too. Of people not getting us. So we form up in clubs with brothers- people just like us. We might do bad things, but at least there, we have a place to just be…”

  She wanted to ask if he’d ever said those words before in his life, they were so
awkward coming out of him, but instead she shocked herself with something else. The words just kind of tumbled out. “Do you- do you ever just- want to forget? Everything?”

  Those startlingly blue eyes ripped through to her soul. Shawn blinked once. Again. “Yeah,” he finally said in his deep, gravelly baritone. It was a little soft underneath, surprisingly velvet. Kayla’s stomach dropped down to her toes and her whole body went rigid. “Of course I do. I’d say that god knows I do, but I can’t bring him into any of the shit I’ve done.”

  She stared at Shawn. He stared back. Slowly, something filtered into his eyes. Something dark and feral. Something that should have frightened the hell out of her, but it didn’t. Because it was echoed in the darkest recess of her soul. Something primal and far too natural.

  The desire to be human. The desire to be wanted. The desire to be desired. Above all, it was the want to connect. To not feel so fucking horribly alone.

  Shawn’s brow slowly lifted. “You want me to make you forget?”

  Kayla’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. Her breath hitched for a fraction of a second. “Can you?” she asked in a voice that was astoundingly firm.

  Shawn didn’t hesitate. “Yes, but you really must be near rock bottom to ask me to be the one.”

  “I- maybe I am. Maybe my mom dying and my world imploding, maybe that wasn’t rock bottom. I was still trying to move on with my life. I was still trying to fight and make sense of it all. Maybe this is… maybe this is the worst of it.”

  The bed dipped as Shawn slid down beside her. He tugged her hand into his. Hers was dainty and smooth, his rough and strong. His grip was so firm that she knew he could crush every single bone in her hand. He could break her, if he wanted to. He was dangerous and experienced and she was naive and innocent in so many ways. He could have hurt her if he wanted to, but he didn’t. His touch was infinitely gentle. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles and a trail of fire spread up her arm.

  She’d never been with a man like him. A man who could look at her, right into her soul, right into her darkness, see her just the way she was, the brokenness and the pain, and know that there was worse. He’d likely lived it already. She’d never trusted another man in her life, not with the intimate parts of herself. She’d had sex before, but honestly, it was mindless. Just two bodies meeting and finding pleasure that didn’t last. That ultimately meant nothing at all and left her hollowed out and aching.

  She shivered and Shawn’s other hand swept to her back. He ran it up her spine, his rough fingertips scratchy on her soft t-shirt. His touch burned right through the thin fabric and seeped into the raw, wounded parts of herself. It was oddly comforting. When his hand settled on her shoulders, he pulled her into him. Not rough, but with enough force that she was steered easily into his chest.

  She didn’t expect the movement and her hand flew out, hitting the hard muscles of his stomach. Her fingertips brushed against soft, crisp hair and the warmest, smoothest skin she’d ever felt. Below was all hard rock and her breathing changed. Her heart sped up and her face flushed.

  “Even at rock bottom, I’m still the last person you’d ever need,” Shawn said roughly, his breath tickling the hairs of her head.

  Kayla shivered again. Heat pooled violently between her legs and she felt strange, almost dizzy. She wondered what it would be like to slip her hand just a little lower, to Shawn’s jeans, to spring the button loose and undo his fly and feel his thick cock in her hand. Her body heated up, warming to the idea. The chill of the nightmare and the ache of the memories crept away, replaced with a delicious heat she’d never really truly felt with anyone else.

  “Maybe that’s true,” she said huskily, “but you’re here now and you’re the one I want. I want to forget. All of it. Maybe I’m the last person in the world who could help you get lost, but I’m here. You’re here. Let’s just… stop thinking about all of it.”

  “You’re probably going to regret this,” Shawn informed her in his deep, rough voice, made rougher and deeper by desire. He tilted her chin up and her breath hitched again. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her, and it both scared and thrilled her.

  “Undoubtedly,” she whispered.

  The truth shimmered in the air between them. Even if it was a mistake, she wanted to forget. She wanted to erase the past, just for a short time. She wanted to forget where she was, what she’d been through, who she was. She didn’t want to remember her own name. She just wanted there to be something else. Something other than the pain she’d lived with for so long. For just a short time, she wanted to be someone else. Someone fearless. A woman who wasn’t her. If she’d didn’t take the chance, she’d probably never have it again. Even though it didn’t make any sense, she felt like she’d fade to nothing without this. Without a man she’d known for less than a few hours.

  Kayla slammed her eyes closed. She only had to wait a fraction of a second before Shawn’s lips, both impossibly soft and brutally unyielding, demanded her surrender.

  Chapter 7

  SHAWN

  Life was full of surprises. He’d had a great deal of them over the years. He’d done some real stupid shit. Other moments, his senses had been honed so sharp over the years, it was like there was someone there, watching over him, telling him to duck before a bullet lodged in his brain or the knife flashing through the dark lodged in his gut. He’d had some real close calls and the adrenaline that rushed through his veins and nearly meeting his demise felt a little like this.

  No. He was wrong. Nothing felt like this. Nothing was as surprising as the complete turn-around Kayla did in a matter of minutes.

  He wasn’t going to complain. His dick was hard as a steel rod and she was a pillar of fire in his arms. She said she wanted to get lost. Well, fuck me, I want to get lost too. She wants to forget. There isn’t much I want to remember. This wasn’t about discovery or finding oneself, but it wasn’t about straight up fucking without feeling.

  No, there was lots of feeling. The sensation creeping through his veins wasn’t anything like he’d ever felt before. It was frightening as hell, but there was no damn way he was letting her go. He pushed that shit aside and fucked her mouth with his, slipping his tongue between her parted lips, finding hers alive and ready. He devoured her, tangling their tongues together before pulling back and licking her kiss swollen lips.

  Kayla made little panting, raspy sounds. Her fingers dug into the bare skin of his shoulders, her nails biting deep. Shawn had never tasted anything as delicious as her skin. She was sweet, so fucking sweet, and salty, from the lingering sweat of the nightmare that had been the past few years of her life.

  He groaned as he licked at her neck, the salty sweetness of her skin melting over his tongue. He was so hard it fucking hurt. He wanted her hand wrapped around his dick. He wanted her mouth there, the sweet tightness of her pussy milking him, easing the pain.

  He forced himself to slow the fuck down and take a breath as he licked and suckled her neck and she moaned and dug her nails harder into his shoulder. He’d never been so fucking wound up in his life. He was so hard it actually felt like he could blow at any minute, and he wasn’t’ even out of his jeans yet. Kayla was still fully clothed in her t-shirt and jeans.

  Kayla’s hands trailed away from his shoulders as he raised his head and tucked his hands under the hem of her t-shirt. It was tight and he had to roll it upwards. She lifted her arms and he threw the thin garment away. He fumbled with her bra while she ran her hands up to his hair. He let out a hiss of pain when she inadvertently grazed the cuts along his temple.

  Her eyes flew open and she pulled back with a startled gasp. “Oh my god. I’m- I’m sorry. You’re- hurt.”

  He’d cleaned the blood away before he’d taken his shift on the couch of destiny in the living room. That bitch was a cold, lumpy, unforgiving lover. Not at all like Kayla, who was alive and vibrant, her dark eyes huge with worry.

  “I’ve had a lot worse,” he chuckled. “A few cuts aren’
t going to slow me down.”

  “What if there’s glass in them?” Kayla fretted.

  “Why would I be worried about a few pieces of glass when you’re half naked in my arms?” he asked thickly. “The only thing I’m worried about is why you’re not all the way naked.”

  Kayla shook her head. “Men are always thinking with their cocks. You probably have so much adrenaline going on right now you don’t even feel the pain.”

  “At the moment, the adrenaline feels great and there isn’t anything better to think with.” He winked at her and he had the pleasure of watching a slight pink blush creep up her neck and flush her cheeks. God, she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on and she was flawless. Ethereal. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  She was innocent and sweet and pure. None of the things that the women he was used to were. She was delicate and tender and might shatter in his hands. He had the power to ruin her. It terrified him. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to chase that fucking living nightmare right out of her head and out of her heart. He wanted to fuck her so hard that she forgot her name. He wanted to make her scream and come on his mouth, on his cock, on his tongue again. He wanted her to ride his face and let him take her from behind. He wanted her up against the wall, on the floor. He wanted her a hundred different times, a hundred different ways. He wanted to fuck her until they both hurt and ached and chaffed and were too tired to fuck anymore. Too tired to think. Too tired to remember.

  That’s what she wanted. She wasn’t asking for sweet or tender. She was asking him to help her.

  He could do that. Hell, he hoped he could do that for her and not ruin her or soil her in the process. She was… she was an angel and he was- fuck, he was him, but she wanted him. She was fucking sure, and that meant everything.

  “I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” Shawn said roughly as he caressed the soft velvet of Kayla’s cheek. His thumb was like sandpaper, she was so soft and smooth in contrast. “I’m going to say filthy things to you and you are going to like it. I’m going to taste you and worship you and fuck you and you are going to scream and pant and sweat and moan. You don’t have to be afraid. Of any of it. I won’t hurt you. It’s going to be…”