Melt My Heart: A Valentine's Day Collection

by Rachel Cross

  It made no sense why he’d ignore her after having sex with her. It wasn’t like anyone knew they’d done the dirty, and she had no plans to make it club business. She knew the rules.

  Ah, hell. She waved to Taylor, who was on waitress duty tonight, but Bruce steered the girl towards one of the tables on the floor and headed Kristen’s way himself. Her heart beat accelerated and she forced herself to meet his gaze.

  He slid behind the counter and stood in front of her. “Yeah?”

  Her gut clenched, and she struggled to inhale. She wanted to tell him off, let him know he was an asshole, but she held her tongue. She’d ranted and raved at him plenty in the past when she’d caught him alone, and it hadn’t made a difference. He simply turned and walked away from her.

  Instead, she pulled back her shoulders and hoped the new Harley Davidson long-scooped Tee would grab his attention, because nothing else she’d tried in the past twelve months had succeeded. “A shot of Bailey’s with extra whiskey … please.”

  He eyed her before moving away and grabbing another glass.

  She sank forward, propping her elbows on the counter of the bar. God, he was hot.

  Unlike most of the bikers, he shaved his head and wore his flame tattoo–which was popular with all the Bantorus riders—going up his neck and over his left ear. His blond goatee, the exact shade of honey, gave him a touch of badass to balance out his almost too-gorgeous looks. She trailed her gaze over his broad shoulders, black leather vest, and landed on his lean hips. His Levi’s were loose enough to hint at what she knew was a tight ass underneath the denim.

  Bruce turned around, glass in hand, and put the drink in front of her. She ran her finger over the rim. Tonight officially sucked.

  It was stupid to think anything was going to change just because Valentine’s Day had come around again. Whatever they’d experienced together last year at this time was a one-shot deal.

  “You plan on drinking that,” Bruce asked.

  She snapped her gaze to his face and an ache hammered in her chest. “Excuse me?”

  Bruce leaned onto the counter with a frown. “Just asking, because you ordered it, and now you’re not drinking.”

  Warmth flooded her face and out of pure rebellion, she lifted her arm and swigged back the alcohol. She stared into his eyes and the most devastating and yet amazing thing happened. His mouth softened in amusement and the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. It was the closest thing to a smile she’d gotten from him in ages and it made her feel overwhelmed.

  What was she doing here? She sucked in her bottom lip and clamped her teeth down as her vision fogged and warmth flooded her whole body. She hated how she responded to him. He breathed, and her panties dampened.

  “I need to go.” She twirled on the bar stool and jumped down.

  The heel of her boot turned, and she caught herself from falling. Mortified over making a fool of herself, she hurried toward the door and nearly made it out, when Tori hooked her elbow, swinging her around.

  “You’re not leaving already, are you?” The president of the MC’s wife, a beautiful blonde-haired woman with a heart bigger than most, had befriended her after inviting Kristen to the once-a-week coffee hour she hosted in the parking lot at her coffee shack for the Bantorus women. Tori rubbed Kristen’s bare arms, keeping her from escaping. “Our babysitter was late and I decided to wait until Lilly fell asleep for the night before coming in.”

  Whether it was the alcohol or frustration, she decided to be honest. Tori’s friendship meant the world to her.

  “Valentine’s Day sucks.” She groaned. “I mean, I only came to the party because I’d hoped this year would be special, but I have something to do at home. As much as I would love to spend time with you and catch up on what’s been happening this week…I need to go.”

  “Honey—”

  “No, really. I’m fine. I just changed my mind about hanging out with everyone tonight.” She fanned her face, unable to cool down. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

  “Kristen…” Tori’s smile faded and she reached out to stop her.

  Kristen held up her hands and backed away, shaking her head, before rushing through the door. Outside, she stopped and leaned against the brick, letting the cool night air cool down her overheated skin. Her chest ached, and she wished she knew how to get rid of the frustration and desperation Bruce sparked inside of her.

  For one night, she’d experienced something so wonderful and mind-blowing with a man that it had ruined her for anybody else. Compared to Bruce, the other two boys her age she’d had sex with were immature and clumsy. While briefly satisfying, they lacked the excitement and thrill she craved. It sucked, because he obviously hadn’t felt the same connection. He could’ve at least let her down gently, and talked to her. They could’ve stayed friends. Maybe.

  She pushed off the wall, swiping her hair out of her eyes. Tomorrow, the stupid holiday would come and go, and then she could go back to working at her dad’s garage. At least then, seven hours of the day would be Bruce-free.

  Kristen followed the sidewalk to the back of the building where she crossed the gravel lot to cabin E. Usually, she loved staying in one of the cabins the club kept for members. She enjoyed having the freedom to come and go, which she didn’t have at her dad’s house, and her dad eased up on her, knowing she was protected by the motorcycle club.

  Tonight, the one-bedroom home looked dark and lonely. She stepped up onto the porch, and suddenly an arm circled her waist, dragging her back against a solid body.

  She opened her mouth to scream and caught a hint of clove and nutmeg, shutting down her panic. She knew that scent in the most intimate way. “What are you doing?”

  “Need to talk.” Bruce walked to the door without letting her go. “Where’s the key?”

  “If you let go of me—”

  His lips brushed the side of her head. “Where’s the key?” he asked, his voice low and vibrating through her.

  “My front, left pocket of my skirt.” She trembled from his touch.

  His chest expanded and he slid his hand into her pocket. “Damn tight skirt,” he mumbled.

  “Well, if I thought some overbearing dickhead was going to try and reach in there, I would’ve dressed differently.” She rolled her eyes, wishing he could see her in the dark because she had some serious bitch ready to come out and it was all directed at him.

  “You’re an asshole,” she said, through clenched teeth. She wiggled, trying to dislodge him.

  His upper body pressed against her, forcing her to lean forward when he dug deeper in her pocket. A familiar hardness pressed against her ass and her nipples peaked at the sexual position. Kristen swallowed hard, all thoughts of fighting with him disappeared, and she could only stand there and enjoy having him close to her.

  “That hard-on is your fault, sweetheart,” he whispered, grabbing the key and removing his hand from her skirt. “You and your damn ass, walking in front of me all the time, just throwing your hips back and forth to fucking tease me. Nose in the air, long hair swinging, and those perky tits all pressing against your tight shirts,”

  He moved her forward, opened the door, and she stumbled inside when he let go of her and locked the door. She whirled around and planted her hands on her hips. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Bruce’s mouth tightened and he gazed up at the ceiling before looking her in the eyes. “You need to stop strutting around me.”

  “Wha…?” Her jaw dropped before she could catch herself. “Me? You come into the garage every day. I work there, you don’t. I’m not strutting anywhere. Besides, I’m not your woman, so who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

  “Right.” He stepped closer, a hint of a smile softening his mouth and his eyes, so striking blue they paralyzed her at close range. “I can’t help but look when the only thing I want is you on your back and me between your legs every fucking minute of the day.”

  The air went out of the room.
She pressed her hand to her stomach, suddenly lightheaded. “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do.” He inhaled swiftly. “But taking what I want is going to get me killed.”

  Still reeling from his confession, she blinked up at him in confusion. None of it made any sense. Tomorrow was Bruce-Rocked-Her-World Day. He ignored her for a year.

  He still wanted her?

  Chapter Two

  Kristen flew across the few steps separating her from Bruce. He caught her, and her body melted. She took his words to heart, and wasn’t going to give him a chance to take them back.

  “Fuck, sweetheart. We can’t—”

  “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t make me beg.”

  He hooked his hand behind her neck, lifting her head toward him as he lowered his. His fingers sank into her hair, holding her in place and her eyelids fought to close.

  He tightened his grip, forcing her to look at him. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

  Then, he kissed her.

  No, he kissed her.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he walked until he backed her against the wall. His tongue tangled with hers, and his cock pressed against her sex. She went over every reason why she should put a stop to what they were doing, but she could no longer deny herself the pleasure of being with him again.

  Her breasts peaked and she ran her hand over the roughness of his shaved head. She matched each stroke of his tongue, each nibble on her lip, and when he pushed his hand through her thick hair, she moaned at giving him control. He gave her hard and fast, and she loved that he knew exactly what she needed without her asking.

  His lips molded to hers perfectly. Delicious goosebumps broke out along her arms as his whiskers caressed her sensitive lips, heightening her arousal. It was only her and him, and every fantastic feeling that came with them being together.

  The memories of their night together had been bittersweet. She’d clung to them, because it was all she had, even as they made her life hell because he refused to be a part of it anymore.

  No matter where she was, in the garage, at Cactus Cove, or hanging with her Bantorus sisters, he remained there, a haunting reminder of what she craved. She’d enter the same room as him, her body would prickle, and she’d find Bruce watching her. It didn’t matter if other bikers were around. He was there with her even though they never spoke to each other or touched. The attention confused her.

  Nothing in her life compared to touching him, being with him, smelling him, and having him sink deep inside of her body. Nothing. Not her job at the garage, her friends, or any other man had ever made her feel so utterly complete.

  He moved his other hand to her ass and slid her down his body. Her heat rested on his crotch, eliciting a groan from him and a whine for more from her. She was going to explode in a flurry of pleasure if he kept touching her.

  When he lifted his head a fraction of an inch, he placed his forehead against hers. She breathed deep, feeling the tingle of her sensitized lips after the kiss, and knew he felt it too.

  Finally, he spoke. “Bedroom?”

  “Yes.” She lowered her mouth to his neck, sucking, licking, and creating a pulse deep in his body that played over her tongue, letting her know he enjoyed what she was doing.

  He carried her across the main floor and through the door to her room where she’d left the lamp on beside the bed before she’d walked over to the bar. He’d never been here with her before, but it felt like he had. Every night of the past year, she’d lain in bed, imagining him here, being with her, spending time in her bed, making love to her all night long.

  His arm curled around her and he fell back on the bed, taking her weight. She planted her hands on his chest and that sleepy, tousled look of his settled right between her legs.

  She pushed to a sitting position on top of him and removed her shirt, wanting to feel his skin on hers. He pushed her jean skirt up her thighs with impatient hands, and she lifted her ass, helping him.

  A slow smile came to his lips. “Damn, sweetheart.”

  He gazed down where her body sat on top of his. Her stomach quivered at his pleasure. Never had she been so thankful that she’d gone without panties for the evening. It was one less piece of material between them.

  She leaned over him, rubbing against his hardness through his Levi’s. “For the last three hundred and sixty five days, I’ve dressed with the hope that something I’d wear would grab your attention and nothing ever worked.”

  “It worked,” he said.

  She moistened her lips. “I left the cabin tonight with the promise to myself that this was it. If you ignored me on Bruce-Rocked-My-World Day, I’d forget about you. I’d have to face the truth that I’d never be able to recapture what we had last year. I half-convinced myself that what happened between us, I’d imagined in my head.” She paused, taking a breath and meeting his eyes. Kristen had to make sure they were on the same page here. She couldn’t wake up tomorrow and find him gone again. “I want you and if that freaks you out, I don’t care anymore. I need you. So, either stay here and give me more… or leave.”

  He closed his eyes for an extra beat, and she gave him the time to absorb what she’d said. She deserved more than a quick fuck. If he was all about the sex and planned to ignore her again, she’d get off him and see him to the door.

  “There’s shit going on that you don’t know about,” Bruce said, blue eyes nearly pleading with her.

  Kristen shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. For me, it’s as simple as us wanting each other. You can deal with Bantorus or work or whatever it is that kept you away from me later. Right now, I need to know when our bodies separate and tomorrow arrives, I don’t lose you too.” She tapped her finger against his chest. “Don’t hurt me again.”

  He watched transfixed as she met his gaze. She moistened her lips, and because he wasn’t stopping her, she unclipped her bra and tossed it to the floor. He cupped the weight of her breasts. He had the ability to crush her heart, and she realized how vulnerable she was giving him that power over her.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered back.

  “Okay.” She blinked to focus her eyes. “I can’t take it if you go.”

  “Said I wasn’t going, sweetheart.” He ignored what they were getting ready to do and hooked her neck, bringing her down on his chest. “I fucked with your head for a year, and I’m sorry.”

  She swallowed hard. She’d thought for too long that he hated her. That she’d failed to measure up to every other girl who hung around the MC. It was hard to believe this was really happening.

  “You hear me? I’m not leaving you.” He stroked her back.

  She closed her eyes and nodded. His promise penetrated her heart.

  “Talk to me, Kristen.” His hands stopped moving. “What did I just say?”

  She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me.”

  “Right.” He inhaled deeply. “Keep repeating that to yourself. I’m done hurting both of us.”

  “I’m okay now.” She kissed him softly.

  He studied her. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” She pushed on his chest to sit back up and continue what they were doing, and found herself tossed in the air and tucked under Bruce’s body, his weight settled between her legs. Exactly like the way he took her the one and only time.

  He shrugged out of his vest, reached behind his neck, and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Her breath, already fast, left her completely. He was magnificent, all hard angles and muscles in a body to-die-for.

  Bruce removed a condom from the wallet hooked to the chain on his belt, then pushed his jeans down to his hips while she lay there taking in the sight of him. His arousal stood proud and hard, like its owner.

  Bruce settled between her legs, his cock pressed against her sex, and stilled above her. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m claiming you. You got a problem with that?”

  Krist
en’s heart skipped a beat. Claim her?

  There was a procedure to bringing a woman into the club and although she was a family member, Bruce’s position as a Bantorus would bring up a lot of questions on why he’d go out and claim another member’s daughter. Her dad would flip.

  Besides, everyone knew Bantorus men never claimed a woman unless it meant forever. She inhaled deeply. Yet, she believed him, because she couldn’t remember a time without him in her life. All her doubts fled, and she trusted him completely. Words escaped her, so she merely nodded.

  “Good.” He pressed forward and entered her, with a smooth thrust, his eyes staying locked on hers.

  She spread her hands across his chest, tracing the intricate tattoo at the base of his throat and curling around his neck. Flames beating back trouble, he’d explained to her before when she asked why he shaved and tatted the side of his head when the other members kept the flames to their neck and down farther. She’d teased him that he must have more trouble in his life than the average biker. He’d only gazed at her without refuting her remark.

  He moved and all thoughts to take her time and look at his body escaped her. She pulled him down, taking his lips to hers, and accepted his tongue. She needed more of him. He stroked her mouth, her sex, and the two similar sensations flowed through her body, making her skin vibrate.

  She took every inch, arching up, pushing against him, touching him everywhere, grabbing for traction, and meeting him halfway. Desperate, needy, and unashamed to let him know that only he created these impulses inside of her, she greedily accepted everything he gave to her.

  He pulled her legs apart and positioned her ass higher, holding her hips off the bed.

  She panted, knowing in this position; she’d have every inch of him inside of her. He stared down at their bodies linked together with the same hunger she was feeling.

  “Want this,” he said, which came out more like a grunt of approval. “Every fucking night.”