Riding Steele: Aftershock

by Opal Carew

  He seemed to fill the place with his big, broad-shouldered frame. He glanced around, taking in her feminine paraphernalia. “Nice place.”

  She glanced up at him with a smile. “You don’t find it too girly?”

  He drew her close, holding her tight to his hard, masculine planes. “I find it sweet and pretty, just like you.”

  His hands glided down her sides, and over her hips, then his mouth swooped down and captured hers. She melted against him, feeling soft and feminine against his hardness.

  Then she felt another hardness, pressing against her belly. His arms suddenly felt like ropes coiled around her, and his body big and menacing. She stiffened, her heart suddenly racing.

  This isn’t Donovan. I’m not trapped.

  She tried to calm her erratic breathing, but she needed space. She pressed him back and he easily yielded, releasing her.

  She pasted a smile on her face and gazed up at him. “I just want to get in and settled. I think I’ll go shower and change. Why don’t you grab a cold drink from the kitchen, then I’ll take you on a tour?”

  She escaped to the bathroom, then closed the door and leaned against it. What had come over her? Steele had been protective and caring of her ever since he met her. He was not Donovan.

  She stripped off the biker chick clothing she’d borrowed from Raven and stepped into the shower stall. As the water ran over her, she heard the bathroom door open.

  “I could use a shower, too,” Steele said from outside the foggy glass door.

  She heard his jeans hit the floor, then his other clothes follow. She turned as he opened the glass door.

  “Room for one more?”

  The sight of him … big, tattooed, and muscular … took her breath away. All she could do was nod. He dwarfed any space, so it would be a tight squeeze with both of them in such a small shower stall, but she wanted him here. She wanted to feel his body close to hers. To feel him stroke and hold her.

  He closed the glass door behind him and picked up the soap, his dark gaze gliding over her naked body. He lathered up his hands, then stroked them over her shoulders, then down to her breasts. His big hands covered her, and her nipples puckered to hard nubs. She turned her back to him and he cupped her breasts, caressing them, then drew her back against his body.

  The water careened down on them and her heart beat rapidly as he stroked her breasts, then glided his hands along her hips. She wanted to grind her behind back against his growing erection, to open her legs and lean forward in open invitation. She wanted him to make love to her. Now. Here.

  She ached for him.

  Steele drew her back against him, his lips nuzzling her neck, his arm coming around her waist. Drawing her back against his hard body.

  But the space was small and memories of being locked in the small cage Donovan had trapped her in flashed through her. Memories of Donovan’s arm around her waist, pulling her tight against the cage. Her stomach clenched.

  I’m going to fuck you. So hard you won’t be able to stand for a week. Then I’m going to do it again. And again.

  Donovan’s words ripped through her brain and she froze. Panic welled in her.

  She shoved away Steele’s arm and pushed past him, scurrying from the shower. She grabbed a towel as she hurried out the door and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  *

  Steele’s gut clenched as the door closed behind Laurie.

  Fuck, he was pushing too much. But he had been careful with her for days, treating her like a fragile doll. Loving, sensitive, and understanding.

  He had only been trying to ease them gently into what he knew they both wanted. And needed.

  When she looked at him, he could see the hunger in her eyes. She wanted physical intimacy just as much as he did. Maybe even more. But she was frightened. And traumatized by that bastard.

  He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know what to do.

  He washed his hair and scrubbed his body, then stepped out of the shower and dried off. With a towel casually draped around his waist, he went into the living room and pulled out some clean clothes from his bag and donned them.

  He could definitely use come coffee. He walked into her kitchen and found coffee and filters in the cupboard then put on a pot. As he waited for the pot to fill, he leaned against the counter and glanced around. A flowery picture was on the wall and a silk flower arrangement on the small rectangular table in the corner. A shelf about a foot down from the ceiling held delicate teacups on saucers, and a bookshelf of cookbooks was adorned with little plaques with homey-type sayings.

  This was definitely a woman’s home. Very feminine and it gave him a very different view of Laurie than the striking woman in the stilettos and short club-style dress—that her asshole ex had picked out for her—and then the jeans and biker-girl Tshirts, which she’d borrowed from Raven.

  He lifted the edge of a frilly, lace-edged pot holder that hung from a hook on the wall and it struck him. He really didn’t know anything about Laurie. When she’d been riding with them, she’d been outside her element. Fleeing from an abusive ex, and the law. Living on the edge and just coping the best she could.

  This—he took the pot holder in his hand, staring at the words HOME SWEET HOME embroidered in a delicate script—was who she was. She wasn’t a woman like Raven who would be willing to give up her life and ride around with a band of bikers, living from day to day. Laurie wanted stability. She wanted a home.

  She wanted to be safe.

  His heart compressed.

  She couldn’t find that with him. He was a nomad. Always moving. Never wanting to stay in one place. When he was younger, he’d stayed in Chicago to look out for his sister, to give her a sense of home, but once Chrissy was gone …

  He shook his head. He wouldn’t have changed those years trying to help her, but they’d done no good. And Laurie was a totally different situation. He was sure she’d learned from her mistakes and wouldn’t get into a relationship with a man like Donovan again. A man who would abuse her.

  Fuck, a man who would dominate her.

  What the hell had he been thinking? She didn’t want a man in her life who would try to control her. She found it exciting, sure, but who was he kidding?

  She couldn’t be in a relationship with a dominant man. Not now. Not after what that bastard had done to her.

  He opened the door to the cupboard and stared at the cups. They were all pretty, adorned with flowers, butterflies, kittens. He grabbed one with a fluffy kitten staring out a window, with another staring in. It was adorable.

  It was totally Laurie.

  He poured a cup of coffee and walked into the living room and sat down.

  *

  Laurie drew in a deep breath and opened the door to her bedroom. She had to face Steele, and explain what had happened.

  She walked into the living room, dressed in her own jeans for the first time in over a week, and a floral halter top. Steele sat on the couch, looking totally incongruous sitting in her distinctly feminine living room, holding her favorite cat mug.

  He was too big for this room. Too masculine. To rough and ready.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

  There was no point asking what. They both knew.

  She nodded as she sank into the chair in front of him.

  “I’m sorry. I just … I keep reliving what happened with Donovan.”

  He put down his cup and leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “I’m not Donovan. I’m not going to hurt you like he did.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

  Guilt washed through her. She did know, but she’d been treating him as if she didn’t. She stood up and walked toward him, then perched beside him on the couch.

  “I’m sorry, Steele.” She took his hand and locked gazes with him. “It’s not you. You know that. I just have to … get past this.” She drew his hand to her lips and kissed his rough k
nuckles. “I know you can help me do that.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his raspy chin. “Will you help me?”

  *

  Steele watched as she reached behind her neck and untied the halter, then lowered it, revealing her naked breasts. His heart clenched and his cock stirred. For days he’d held back, wanting her, but knowing he had to give her time. And every time she pulled back from him, he had died a little inside. He knew she didn’t mean to reject him, but that didn’t change how it made him feel.

  She took his hand again and pressed it to one mound. He groaned softly.

  Fuck, he wanted her so bad.

  He felt a tug on his jeans as she pulled down his zipper, then her hand slid inside. His heart raced as her delicate fingers wrapped around him.

  God, he needed to be inside her. His body ached with the overwhelming need.

  He had to fight the compelling drive to shove her back on the couch, tear her clothes away, then drive into her. Hard and fast.

  He kept tight control on himself, but what if he got carried away? What if he acted on that need? Would she ever trust him again?

  Her fingers glided his length and he moaned, his hand tightening on her soft breast.

  He should stop her.

  But he couldn’t. Her tender touch met a need deep inside him. Made him feel special and loved. She was like a drug he couldn’t shake.

  She stroked his cock until it was so stiff he couldn’t think straight. Then she stood up and pushed off her jeans, then climbed onto his lap. Her fingers wrapped around him again and she pressed his tip to her hot, melting core.

  He grasped her waist. “Oh, God, Laurie, you feel so good.”

  She stroked his hair back, then smiled as she lowered herself onto him. He almost gasped at the feel of her warmth surrounding him. Being buried inside her was the most exquisite feeling he’d ever experienced.

  She lifted and lowered herself, gliding on him in a sweet, passionate caress. His cock ached at the sublime sensations. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in her.

  He filled her again and again as she made love to him, gliding up and down, her loving hands stroking his chest. He groaned as she squeezed him inside and she moaned softly at her own pleasure.

  She sped up and the pleasure heightened. She squeezed again and his groin tightened, then he erupted inside her, the pleasure blossoming to pure joy.

  She gasped, rocking her hips on him, then moaned as she found her own release.

  He held her close as she rested against his chest, all soft and feminine in his arms.

  The experience had been incredible. Loving and soft and exciting. It was exactly what she’d needed, and he was happy about that. She’d been in control and set the pace. She’d kept everything exactly the way she needed it.

  And he had no problem giving her control. Sometimes.

  But could he hold back all the time? Could he stop himself from doing something that would emotionally throw her right back in that cage Donovan had put her in?

  *

  Laurie listened to Steele’s heartbeat, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. She’d taken a first step and she knew now that they could move forward. Feeling Steele inside her … his big cock filling her as she moved on him … had been heaven.

  And he’d been so patient with her. So loving.

  She knew she could trust him to be there for her. To give her what she needed.

  She gazed up at him and smiled, but he seemed distracted. Distant.

  She stroked his cheek. “Is there something wrong?”

  “What, baby?” He met her gaze. “No, of course not.” He kissed her, a gentle brush of his lips. “Just tired.”

  He stroked her hair back, and his gentle touch made her feel warm and protected. “Are you okay? I mean, was that okay?”

  She smiled, warmed by his concern. She leaned in and kissed him again. “It was wonderful,” she murmured.

  He nodded, but she could tell he was unsettled. Well, she had freaked out every time he’d touched her for the past few days. He was definitely still gun-shy.

  “How about you just relax while I make some dinner?” She stood up and pulled on her jeans, and she didn’t miss the heat of his gaze on her bare breasts as she tucked them back into her halter top and tied it behind her neck.

  He stood up. “I think I’ll go out for a ride.”

  She glanced at him in surprise, but didn’t say anything.

  “Okay. There’s a spare key in the bowl by the door.” Laurie watched him walk to the door, pick up the key, then close the door behind him.

  As hard as these past few days had been on her, they’d been hard on him, too. She thought he’d be happy that they had taken this step forward, but something was bothering him and she wished she knew what it was.

  But right now, he needed a little space.

  All she knew was, now that she’d allowed herself to open the door and share intimacy with him again, she needed more. He’d stoked the fire and it was blazing inside her.

  After dinner, she’d show him just how much she needed him all over again.

  *

  Steele mounted his bike and let out the throttle. The roar of the engine was comforting. Reliable. As he rode the bike along the road, the wind whipping at his face, it was a part of him.

  The moment he’d slid from Laurie’s body when she’d stood up, he’d ached at the loss of her warmth surrounding him. She’d become a drug he was addicted to. A need that had buried itself deep in the pit of his stomach.

  He wanted her. Emotionally. And physically. But he needed more than the sweet, delicate lovemaking they’d just shared.

  He knew she needed time. She needed tenderness and love to get past the trauma she’d endured at the hands of Donovan. And he’d give her that. He’d give her whatever she needed.

  But what if he fucked up? What if his urges—his intense desire to bend her to his will—got the best of him and he did something stupid? Something that scared her. Or traumatized her even more than what Donovan had done.

  Not that he’d do something worse. But coming from him … someone she’d learned to trust and rely on …

  Fuck.

  *

  It was close to seven and Laurie stirred the chili again, wondering where Steele was. She walked back to the living room, a glass of red wine in her hand, and sank onto the couch. Steele was used to total freedom. Keeping his own hours. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her telling him to be home for dinner at a certain time.

  The two of them were so different, lived such different lifestyles, but somehow they would find a way to make things work.

  She heard a key in the lock and Steele stepped inside.

  He glanced at her, but he seemed preoccupied. “Dinner smells good.”

  She stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “I hope you like chili. There are homemade buns, too.”

  He nodded. “That sounds great.”

  “Okay. Well, sit down and be comfortable, I’ll go serve it up.”

  He sat on the couch. “I could use a beer, too.”

  “Coming up.”

  She returned with two bowls of chili and the beer and set one bowl in front of him on the coffee table, then returned for the rolls and butter. They put on an adventure movie while they ate.

  She wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but she realized she needed to let him talk in his own time. When they were finished, she cleared away the dishes and sat beside him. She cuddled up to him, and he slid his arm around her, then drew her close. A few minutes later, he tipped up her chin and kissed her, his lips moving softly on hers.

  But then he pulled back, staring at her with eyes filled with heated need and anxiety.

  “I want to do this with you. I want …” He sat back, his hands balled into fists. “But … Fuck, I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

  “You won’t.” She rested her hand on his muscular arm. “I want this, too.” She tightened her fingers around him, gazing at
him imploringly. “Please, Steele. Make love to me.”

  A growl rumbled from deep inside him and he pulled her into a deep kiss, then he slid his arm under her knees and he scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom. Silently, he stripped off her clothes, slowly and purposefully, then he stood up and shed his own. Her gaze wandered over his glorious, muscular, tattooed body. Sculpted arms, broad shoulders, ridged abs. Everything about this man was spectacular.

  And his cock. It had grown to an impressive length, and it was so thick. He pressed her back on the bed and prowled over her, then kissed her deeply. He tested her readiness by gliding his fingers over her slit, finding slick wetness, then he pressed his cock against her. She drew in a breath as he glided into her, filling her with his thick, hard shaft. She tightened around him, embracing him in the most intimate way she knew how.

  He moaned. His lips found hers and he began to move. Drawing out, then gliding deep again. Drawing out, then gliding deep again. He set a smooth, sweet rhythm, driving her pleasure higher and higher with each stroke.

  She trembled with need, wanting him with an intensity she’d never known before. She kissed him under the chin, his whiskers raspy against her lips.

  Joyous feelings swelled within her. Feelings she couldn’t keep to herself.

  “Oh, Steele. I love you.”

  He sped up, driving deep into her. Again and again. She held tight, riding the intense waves of sensation. Then he thrust deep and groaned.

  The feel of his liquid heat filling her catapulted her over the edge. She clung to him, as rippling sensations quivered through her, then her body exploded in the sweet ecstasy of release.

  Once the shimmering orgasm waned, she collapsed against him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. She drifted into sleep, his big cock still inside her.

  *

  Laurie awoke with a start. The big warm body she expected to be in her arms was gone.

  She pushed back the covers and stood up, then grabbed her robe. Had Steele left?

  She walked into the living room and her anxiety waned when she saw him sitting on the couch, a coffee in his hand.