Throttle MC: A Stepbrother Romance

by Loveling, Daphne

  He moved closer. “So, you’d stay, if... this... wasn’t a problem?” His face was so near mine now, I could see the stubble of his beard, imagine the roughness of his cheek if I reached out to touch it.

  “Yes,” I whispered, reddening. “Of course I would.”

  “Then stay,” he murmured. His lips came down on mine. What was he saying? My mind reeled as I dizzily returned his kiss for a few moments, then finally broke away.

  “Ryker...”

  “Your dad told me Randi talked to him. About us. Seems she figured out a while ago that there was something going on between us.”

  I stared at him. “She asked me about it,” I said, stunned. “I had to tell her – it was clear she knew anyway, somehow.”

  He chuckled. “She asked me about it, too. I told her to go to hell, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer.” He leaned down and brushed my lips with his. “My ma’s nobody’s fool. Anyway, I guess she told Lon, and somehow, he hasn’t decided to fuckin’ kill me. If you can believe this, he actually gave us his blessing.”

  This was too much to take in. I stared at him, my eyes wide, and shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “It is happening, though,” he murmured. “Hadley. I love you, babe.” He kissed me again, and my body felt like it was melting under him. “You’ve had me around your little finger since the first day I saw you. You need to fucking stay, because if you leave, I’m coming with you.”

  He pulled me close and leaned me back against the couch until our bodies were pressed against each other. For the first time, when his mouth came down onto mine, I let myself think, “He’s what I want. He’s the one. He’s mine.” His lips pressed mine open, and I eagerly returned his kiss as our tongues probed and danced together.

  When he pulled away, we were both breathing hard. “Ryker,” I gasped.

  “Fuck, I love it when you say my name,” he growled.

  “Ryker,” I repeated, more urgently now.

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “Take me to bed.”

  Epilogue

  Ryker

  Hadley started working at the clinic again a couple of weeks after she had officially quit. I convinced her to take a little time off before she started back, and her boss was so happy to have her back that she didn’t argue one bit. We decided to take a little vacation, so we loaded up the bike and took it around some of the scenic byways of Colorado for a week, ending up at Estes Park. It was... well, fuck, it was amazing. Since Hadley was already packed up and ready to leave Lon and Randi’s place, I convinced her to move in with me. When we got back from the trip, we loaded up her car with stuff and drove it over to my place.

  Correction: our place.

  Eventually, at Barbara Hensley’s suggestion, Hadley did decide to go back to school to become a substance abuse counselor. She liked the idea of both of us working on cleaning up Cheyenne. And I think it made her happy to feel like she’d finally found something of her own. An identity of her own, apart from who she was to the club.

  The Throttle seemed to accept Hadley and me as a couple with very little difficulty. Hardly anyone even blinked. They just started referring to her as “Ryker’s old woman” now, instead of “Lon’s daughter,” and that was that. Except for Jimmy, of course. He didn’t say anything about it, but it was easy to tell it ate him up inside. He never did do very well with the idea that someone else had gotten something he wanted, especially me. First I got the VP position, and then I ended up with the girl. I wish I could say I felt bad about that... but I didn’t.

  How could I feel bad about it? I was happier than I’d been in my whole goddamn life. Hadley... well, she was a revelation. I could sit around and watch her doing the most miniscule things, and it was like I’d never seen anything so amazing. I couldn’t get enough of her. And the truly amazing thing was, she felt the same way about me.

  The night we got back from our trip, I took Hadley into our bedroom and made love to her. I realized that night that before I met her, I had never made love to any woman. Hell, it would never have occurred to me before Hadley. But this... this was different. She was in a playful mood, and we sparred for control, laughing, until eventually she ended up on top of me. I watched her ride me, climbing higher and higher, and thought how she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Just when I knew I couldn’t hold out any longer, Hadley threw back her head and called my name, and I emptied myself inside her with a shudder as she came crashing down around me.

  The next morning, Hadley got herself ready for work and I sat around with a cup of coffee, gazing appreciatively at her hot little ass as she padded from room to room. I realized as I watched her that somehow or other, Hadley was always going to come crashing into my life, sooner or later. I had never been one to believe in fate, but somehow, Hadley and I had been inevitable. We were always going to end up together. And once we met, there was never going to be any turning back.

  Hadley finished getting ready for work, kissed me long and deep, and then headed out the door for the clinic. I took a final swig of coffee and was starting toward the kitchen when the door swung back open. “My car won’t start,” she complained. “And there’s a puddle of something that looks like oil underneath it.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “I’ll take a look at it. You want me to take you in on the bike?” I asked.

  Hadley looked down skeptically at her outfit. “Yeah, but I’d better change out of this skirt into some pants,” she frowned.

  “My loss,” I smirked, and she swatted at me and headed into the bedroom to change.

  “Might be time to get a new car,” I said as I followed her down the hallway. “Yours is getting to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

  “Oh, no,” she shook her head, laughing. “We can never get rid of that car. It’s what brought us together, after all. Good think you know how to fix cars, because you’re stuck with it now. And me,” she added, smiling wickedly.

  Babe,” I said, “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck with.”

  THE END

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  OTHER NOVELS AND NOVELLAS

  Fugitives MC

  Los Perdidos MC

  Untamed Moon

  EXCERPT from FUGITIVES MC: THE NOVEL

  by Daphne Loveling

  Available on Amazon

  and other major e-booksellers

  I stared at my face in the mirror with a skeptical eye. The eyeliner was good, I decided, but I definitely needed more mascara. Taking the wand out, I brushed the black liquid on my lashes in thick, broad strokes. I closed the tube absently, and then scrutinized my reflection. It had to be right, I told myself fiercely. I couldn’t risk any mistakes.

  Standing up, I took a moment to straighten the tight, sequined pink tank top and short leather mini I had decided on. Good God, I could barely breathe in this getup. I felt more like a sexy lollipop ready to be unwrapped and devoured than a human being. But my physical comfort was the least of my worries. There would only be one shot to get myself in and hired by the Fugitives MC, and I
couldn’t afford to blow it.

  The hardest thing once I got there, I knew, would be to calm my nerves. Ten years had passed since I was last in Crystal Spring, and in that time I had gone from a gangly, coke-bottle glasses-wearing pre-teen to a surprisingly voluptuous twenty-two year-old. It would be almost impossible for one of the club members to recognize me as the little girl whose older brother had been a prospect once upon a time. But I knew it was very possible, even likely, that I would recognize a few of them. I had to prepare mentally for that -- to keep my cool, no matter what happened. I could not let them see the hate in my eyes. The urge to destroy. To annihilate. To shed blood.

  Looking back at the mirror, I brushed out my long blond hair until it shone and gave myself an experimental smile. No, I scolded myself. Too uncertain-looking. I tried again. Better. I practiced my slightly vacant, bimbo bombshell look. I giggled, pouting my lips and thrusting my breasts toward the mirror for effect. They were, along with my generous hips, my best potential source of distraction, I knew. I needed to remember to use them. Above all, I needed to remember to keep my real self – sarcastic remarks and all – wrapped up tight. Even tighter than this freaking skirt that was threatening to cut off my circulation.

  Satisfied that my appearance was up to snuff, I slipped on a pair of high heeled black ankle boots and grabbed my purse. It was show time, I told myself. Time to do this.

  Game on.

  mnmn

  Acknowledgements

  First, a sincere thank you to all of my readers! Without your support, independent authors would be nothing, quite literally!

  Thank you also to my wonderful, supportive husband. You have been amazing. Thank you for cooking me meals, listening to me plot out my stories, and cheering me on.

  Finally, thank you to my community of independent authors. A better, more supportive bunch of writers could never be found.