Rebellious

by Gillian Archer

  “Why the fuck would you trust my place with a fucking prospect?” Every word left Reb like a bullet. “Aren’t you thinking? We don’t trust prospects with things like guard duty. They haven’t been tested. Especially when it comes to my house.”

  “Because it was Bam Bam. I didn’t think any of those fucking Tramps could get the upper hand with him. The guy’s built like a tank.”

  “Then you should’ve put Tank on duty. Fucking hell, man.” Reb shouldered through the group of men and made his way through the shards of glass and into his house.

  What he found there didn’t make him feel any better. Every window in the living room was either busted out or busted in. His boots crunched over pieces of glass that littered the walkway as he walked to the far wall where some asshole had spray painted “Property of Tramps” in huge, wavy letters. Not fucking funny. Neither were the destroyed picture frames scattered everywhere. He bent down and picked one up. Tucker’s image stared back at him from behind splintered glass.

  The rage inside Reb boiled. He needed an outlet, but those fucking Tramps were long gone. Instead he turned to his leather couches and kicked the end as hard as he fucking could. The muffled thump didn’t lessen his anger. But neither did the sight of the deep gouges in the leather. His buttery soft couches were a clusterfuck of torn leather and stuffing. That one was Tucker’s favorite spot. He’d lie there and play videogames or read a book. And now it was gone. Ripped from him by those fucking Tramps. Reb’s rage multiplied.

  Turning to Zag, he unleashed. “I want every fucking member here. Now.”

  “Will do.”

  “And if it’s not too much to tax your tiny brain: Prospects. Don’t. Do. Guard. Duty. Ever. We clear?” The walls shook with his fury.

  Zag jerked his head in a tight nod as a muscle flexed in his jaw. He obviously had something he wanted to say but was too smart to unload just now. Reb wished he would. Nothing made him feel better than unleashing with his fists.

  Instead Zag turned around and lifted his phone to his ear.

  “But not Bumper or Hatchet,” Reb yelled at his back. “I’ve got them on something more important.”

  Zag froze for a second, then walked out the door.

  Reb turned, eager for a fight. Somewhere. Anywhere. But no one would meet his eyes.

  Instead Reb gave his former sofa one last, brutal kick. The arm of the sofa gave way and collapsed inside the body of the couch, but it still didn’t help that rage inside him. Nothing would do that until he got some of his own back from the Tramps. His shoulders heaved with his billowing breath. For now he’d have to suck it up and bury his anger. Like a fucking grown-up.

  “Don’t just stand there.” Reb glared at the five men who were standing around fiddling with their thumbs. “Get to cleaning. I’ve got Tucker this weekend and he’s not coming back to this shit. So move!”

  His living room was a sudden hive of activity as the men cleared away all the broken furniture and knickknacks. Reb watched for a few minutes while he waited for his rage to ebb. Eventually he pitched in and helped move the ripped sofas.

  An hour later, he was standing over a pile of photos that had been removed from their ruined frames. Tucker as a baby. Reb and Zag standing arm in arm next to Zag’s first repaired bike at Dirty Side Down. Christ, they looked so young. Especially Zag. He had to’ve been only seventeen in that picture. All baby-faced and proud as fuck.

  “Some of the guys are gonna hit the garage for plywood for the windows. You need anything, Reb?”

  Reb looked up and into the eyes of the man who felt more like his first son than a friend. “Nah, but I’d appreciate it if you hung back so we can talk.”

  Zag’s face took on a blank expression. “Yes, sir.”

  “In here.” Reb led him over to the kitchen. On the way, they exchanged head nods with the guys who were leaving for the shop and stepped around those busy painting over the Tramps’ tagged wall.

  In the kitchen, Reb cleaned out the dregs from the coffeemaker and started a new pot. The grumbling percolation noises filled the tense silence. Reb grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, then turned to Zag. He set the cups on the counter between them. “How’s Bam?”

  A steely quality entered Zag’s golden brown eyes. “Doc says he’ll be fine. He’s monitoring him for signs of a concussion, but nothing looks broken. Just a few gashes and bruises.”

  “Good. He might be a Brother after all if he’s got such a hard fucking head.”

  Zag didn’t so much as crack a smile.

  Okay. Reb cleared his throat and stopped beating around the bush. “We’ve got a situation with Rhonda that I want to bring you in on.” Reb quickly filled him in on his visit with his lawyer and the intel Emily had given him about Tucker’s living arrangements. “I want someone on that apartment complex anytime Tucker is there. Right now I’ve got Hatchet watching the place. But he’ll need a relief in ten hours or so. And not a fucking prospect.”

  A muscle in Zag’s cheek flexed but he nodded. “I don’t get why you just don’t force her to agree to custody. You say the word and we can get a few of the guys on it. Hell, most of the old ladies would be fucking thrilled to lend a hand if we asked. The only reason she didn’t get a knife to the back years ago was because she’s your old lady.”

  “Was.”

  Zag tipped his head in acknowledgment of the verb tense.

  “I’ve thought about it. Fuck, it’s practically become my wet dream of late.” Reb laughed sadly. “But I just can’t do that to Tuck. She’s his mom. He loves her. I can’t be the one who roughs her up or makes her disappear. Or even the one who orders it. I couldn’t face my kid after that.”

  Zag gave a slow nod. “How much longer can that bitch draw out your fucking divorce?”

  “Until she milks everything from me that she thinks she can. Christ, this is ridiculous. Hopefully this latest fuckup will speed things up. I’m not giving one inch on custody. Tucker belongs here. He’s mine.”

  Silence stretched between them at his unintentional reference to the words Rhonda had thrown at him last Labor Day. Let me know when you figure out who his father is, because it sure as fuck isn’t you. But neither man spoke of it. Zag knew more than anyone that blood didn’t make a father. Plus they both knew Rhonda was a fucking liar.

  Needing to do something to keep his hands busy, Reb got up and poured them both coffee.

  “And I also got Bumper watching Emily.” Even though he was pissed about the clusterfuck that was his life lately, Reb couldn’t hold back the smile that spread over his face when he said her name. He was practically twitterpated. (And he really needed to stop watching so many cartoons with Tuck. If he said that word out loud, he’d lose his street cred.) “Her stalker is back. I’ve had a few words with the punk, so I don’t think he’ll be a problem anymore, but between him and Rhonda, better safe than sorry.”

  Zag looked at his mug of coffee. “That bitch wouldn’t hesitate to screw with Emily if she thought it would get to you.”

  Reb grunted in reply.

  “So would it? Get to you?” Zag pushed back from the counter and met Reb’s eyes straight on. “That girl’s had a hard life. She doesn’t need someone like you in it unless you’re serious about her.”

  “I don’t need any lectures from you about how to take care of my woman.”

  Zag smirked. “Man, I’d love to throw your own words back at ya from when you found out about me and Jessica, but I’m just too fucking happy to see you like this.”

  “What? Plotting ways to get rid of my bitch of an ex-wife and Emily’s stalker? That’s not anything out of the norm. Maybe we should go with quicklime this time—I hear it does a great job getting rid of the evidence.”

  “No. I mean it’s good to see you happy, content even.”

  Zag’s simple words took all the wind from Reb’s sails. Reb opened and closed his mouth a couple times. He couldn’t think of what to say in the face of Zag’s observation.

  “It’
s a great change. You were so fucked up a year ago after Rhonda left. Don’t get me wrong, none of us were sad to see her go—but I know it took a toll on you and Tucker. It’s only been two days with Emily, and you’re fucking smiling.” Zag cleared his throat awkwardly, then took a slurp of his coffee. “It looks good on you. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Reb took a bracing gulp of coffee. “Yeah, well, thanks. I guess.”

  The guys sat in somewhat uncomfortable silence until the coffeemaker beeped, signaling its warming cycle was over. Finally Reb turned to Zag. “I need you to work out some guard duty rotations for the next while.”

  “So we’re watching here, the clubhouse, Tucker, and Emily. We’re gonna be spread pretty thin for the next while.”

  “Don’t care. It’s important. And—”

  “No prospects guarding. Gotcha. I heard ya the first twenty times. Asshole.”

  Reb smiled and slapped Zag on the back. Sometimes words just weren’t necessary. But fuck, he loved this guy.

  “What are we gonna do about our little Tramp problem?” Zag tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “This shit is fucked up. Striking our prez’s home? Those fuckers need to learn a lesson. A painful one.”

  All the levity leached from Reb’s body. They’d hit his home. The place where, above all else, his son was supposed to feel safe. “Oh, those fuckers will pay.”

  Chapter 13

  Emily

  JULY 23

  I bit back a moan as Reb’s lips blazed a trail down my neck to my throbbing nipple. Every so often he’d pause and nip or lick my skin, which drew the moment out to an agonizing degree.

  And made me want him even more.

  I’d only known the man this way for two days, and he already knew my body better than I did. Yes, I was aware of him all those weeks Jessica was in the hospital a year ago. We had nodded politely to each other from opposite sides of the waiting room. But there was knowing, and then there was knowing. And Reb knew every inch of me.

  We’d spent the better part of Friday night in bed. That was after Tucker went to sleep, of course. Then Reb had turned his TV to a random channel and dared me to keep my moans quieter than the volume of whatever show was playing. I lost every time.

  But I took comfort in Reb’s surety that Tucker slept like a rock. Plus there hadn’t been any awkward questions over breakfast this morning. Thank God.

  I thought it might be strange to date someone with a kid, especially given how fast Reb and I got to sleepover dates, but it wasn’t strange. If anything it felt…right, like somehow I fit into Reb and Tucker’s life. Helping make dinner last night, I slid right into a compatible rhythm with Reb in the kitchen.

  And there was no question we were compatible in the bedroom.

  “Oh my God, Reb.” I moaned as he finally drew my nipple into his mouth. His tongue teased my aching bud until I felt an answering throb between my legs. I grabbed the back of his head, silently urging him for more.

  Instead he pulled out of my grasp and my nipple left his mouth with an audible pop. I moaned as the cold air-conditioned air wafted across the wet tip of my breast.

  “I told you, baby. No hands. If you can’t keep them at your sides, I’ll find a more strategic position for you.” He said it in an almost teasing way, but there was a bite to his words that had my skin prickling. And yet his threat didn’t stop my sex from throbbing. Something about him being all controlling in bed got me excited. Go figure.

  I must’ve moved or something, because the next thing I knew Reb pulled away and glared down at me. His narrowed eyes and the stern set to his lips made my heart thump louder than before.

  “I told you. Hands. To. Yourself.”

  Before I could open my mouth to refute his claim, he flipped me over, and I found myself on my hands and knees on his bed.

  I felt so exposed. I could feel his breath on my thigh and I just knew that he was looking at me there. My shoulders hunched, and I slumped toward the bed. This time I moaned for a totally different reason—mortification. “Oh God, Reb.”

  “Nuh-uh. Up!” Reb tapped the back of my leg with his palm a little lighter than a slap.

  But still I flinched.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s still me. We only go as far or as fast as you’re good with.” Reb’s hand gentled as he petted my flank much like one might a spooked horse. He caressed my leg softly and innocently for a minute until his lips joined his hand on my thigh. His voice grew husky as his mouth moved over my leg. “Nuthin’ wrong with seeing things from a different angle.”

  “Can’t really see much from this angle other than your sheets. Ooooh!” I jerked in surprise. His lingering caresses had moved farther north and tickled at the opening of my sex. Reb’s throaty laughter warmed me, even though it was at my expense. The soft prickle of his buzzed head brushed my butt, and I shivered. The sensation combined with my vulnerability had me groaning into his sheets. I bit down on my fist to muffle the sound.

  “How’s this angle, baby?” Reb’s stubble rasped against the delicate skin of my sex as he spoke.

  I wondered what he meant, and then I felt his tongue. That was the last coherent thought I was capable of for God knows how long.

  His tongue moved lightly over the outer edge of my sex. He groaned deeply and the rumble vibrated deep within me. He smacked his lips, and his tongue left me briefly before dancing over my pussy again. He took his time moving slowly over my outer lips, delving in deeper here and there but never lingering over the spots I really wanted him to explore. His hands stayed on my fleshy outer thighs as they held me open for his hungry tongue.

  “Fuck me, sunshine. You taste like a fucking angel.”

  My body burned as his words washed over me. But soon I lost myself as his tongue began teasing me again. This time he went deeper, thrusting slightly into me before withdrawing to tease over my delicate skin. Thrust. Retreat and tease. Thrust. Retreat and tease. Just when I could predict his rhythm he’d change and thrust longer or tease me longer with his soft tongue and the rasp of his stubble.

  I was out of my mind with lust. He teased me with his tongue until I could hardly feel it on my skin due to the amount of arousal pouring from me. Not that Reb complained. His groans rumbled against my pussy and I craved the vibrations. But they weren’t what I truly wanted.

  I wanted him inside me. Thrusting hard until his pelvis grinded against my clitoris. Until I could feel his piercing nudging deep inside me. Until I couldn’t remember my own name.

  Reb pulled back and ran his wet lips over my right butt cheek. The combination of my moisture and his left their mark on my skin. My right side broke out in goosebumps. Before I could open my mouth and demand that he fuck me already, he dove back in, but this time his hand joined his lips and tongue in driving me crazy.

  His tongue flicked delicately at the seam of my pussy, pushing in and retreating as his finger gathered moisture so close to my clit. So close and yet not touching. I could feel his finger dancing over my outer lips but not inside where my clit pulsed with need.

  Instead, after driving me insane with lust, his teasing finger disappeared. I bit off a muffled moan around my fist and thrust my hips back at him. Reb chuckled darkly.

  “Gotcha where I want you. Now I’m gonna make your body dance.”

  Before I could process his enigmatic words, I felt something brush against my asshole.

  “Reb!” I sat up with a shriek and glared over my shoulder. But what I found there didn’t make me feel any better. Instead of embarrassment or explanation, Reb just stared steadily back at me. Not mad, exactly. Just…measuring? His eyes flickered with an expression of something, but it was gone before I could label it.

  “Back in position.” His voice wasn’t angry. He continued to stare at me.

  “Reb, I think—”

  “Back. In. Position.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his firm tone didn’t leave room for discussion, either.

  Somehow I found myself back on my hands and kn
ees without another word spoken between us. And Reb hadn’t moved. Now I could feel his breath puffing against my thigh once more.

  I tried again. “Reb, I don’t think—”

  His hand popped me lightly on my thigh. This time I didn’t jump. I sighed and dropped my head onto my hands. Why’d I pick such a bossy man?

  “Don’t want you to think. Right now your only job is to feel. And if you feel something you don’t like, then you can let me know.”

  I gulped. Was I going to let him do this? I hadn’t thought anyone did anal outside of pornos. My friends had never talked about it, and honestly it’d never appealed.

  Until now.

  Maybe.

  God, I was so horny I’d be hard-pressed to deny him anything as long as it led me to an orgasm. Besides, it hadn’t hurt. Just felt different, so…

  “As long as I don’t feel your piercing anywhere near me there.”

  “We’ll slow it down, then. I promise you, baby. No PA near your A.”

  I choked back my laughter and tried to relax. But I couldn’t. All I could think was that he wanted to touch me there. Would I like it? Would it hurt? Oh God, what if I liked it?

  “I can hear you thinking.” Reb’s stubble chafed against my thigh.

  I heard some rustling behind me but had no clue what it was from. I had to stay in position. Even through all this back-and-forth, I was still turned on. But then, that was always true when I was close to him. Especially when we were both naked.

  Something sharp scraped over my thigh. His fingernail? But Reb didn’t have any long enough to scratch. Then his tongue joined the sensation and I had my answer—his teeth. He nipped the back of my legs here and there as he traveled closer to then away from my aching pussy.

  The void inside me felt bottomless. A gnawing hunger that only grew as his touches teased me and didn’t give any release. Or come close to where I really wanted him. He went back to teasing the seam of my pussy with his tongue as he ran it close to but never touching my clit, then back, but nowhere near either opening of my body. He just teased me until I was out of my mind with need. Until I wanted to clasp his head between my thighs and make him do what I wanted. Until I wanted to beg him to touch me where I wanted.