by Debra Kayn
Knowing it was because of her that Rod and her dad were staying away from each other, she wandered away to let Rod enjoy his dinner, and she could wipe off the empty tables and keep the floor open for any late-night customers who wanted a drink before heading home for the night. At times, she forgot Rod came to the bar to sit out in the open, where he was attacked, and that his reasons for coming had everything to do with catching the man who'd stabbed him.
With something so big hanging over everyone's head, her dad and Rod needed to make peace with each other.
An hour later, Raelyn shouted back to the kitchen for Penny to shut everything down, announced the bar was closed, and everyone needed to drive home safely.
The women went through cleaning and putting the chairs up for the morning's crew that came in to clean in record time before the bar opened. Heather grabbed her purse and stood by Rod without waiting to see if he would ask her to come home with him again. Not that he ever asked for anything in her presence. He ordered or at least stated what would happen or what he needed, and she willingly agreed with him.
Rod looped his arm around her shoulders. "Ready?"
She nodded.
"We're walking out alone and going without an escort," said Rod.
She looked up at him in shock at the lack of security. He'd had all night while he hung at the bar to tell her he planned to get rid of his escorts. They really needed to talk about communicating better.
"It's too soon. Too risky," said her dad, retaining his position in front of the hallway. Unless Rod pushed through her dad, they weren't going anywhere until her dad gave his permission.
"I'm giving Heather the phone. One sign of anyone following us and she'll call for backup." Rod removed his arm and slipped his phone into the back pocket of Heather's shorts. "If you haven't heard from us in fifteen minutes, go ahead and head on home, knowing we're at the house."
Her dad's squint intensified, and he remained silent, backing his vice president out of loyalty, not agreement. Heather only had a chance to squeeze her dad's hand in reassurance that she'd be okay as Rod ushered her past him and out the back door.
Outside, Rod put his hand on her lower back. She whispered, "Is this safe?"
"I can protect you." He stopped beside his bike. "Put the helmet on and let's go."
Her adrenaline at an all-time high, she could only do what he asked and hope they made it to his house without anyone hurting them.
Chapter Eighteen
"Are you coming out?" Rod peered underneath the bed at Girl. "You've been wandering the house, eating, drinking, and having a hell of a time with my boots all day. You might as well come out and meet Heather."
Girl kept her head flat on the floor and gazed up at him with her black eyes. Rod reached underneath the bed and laid a Milk Bone in front of her. "Suit yourself."
He left the spare room, leaving the door open. Whatever caused the dog to be leery of strangers exceeded anything he could do to put her at ease. Why she clung to him in every other way escaped him. He was the last person the dog should depend on.
Heather turned to him when he entered the living room. "Is Girl okay?"
"Yeah, I gave her a treat. She'll probably stay in the rest of the night." Rod plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion. "Come sit. Get off your feet."
She sat beside him. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. Instead of taking her right to bed, he'd let her relax. The ride home alone upset her. When she'd gotten off his motorcycle, and he'd taken her hand, her hands continued to tremor.
It'd been three weeks since the attack and not one sign that there would be another attempt on his life. Every morning, he ran through the security cameras around his house and not once had there been proof of anyone snooping around. The same results came from the cameras at the bar.
"What do you usually do when the bar closes." She kicked off her shoes and added her feet to the coffee table beside his.
"Either come home or go to the clubhouse." He curled a piece of her hair around his finger.
"Ah," she said, knowingly.
He chuckled. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"
"No, and what I don't know my imagination makes up."
"Was that what you did when you came to Haugan?" He tugged the strand around his finger. "I've been a member of Ronacks almost as long as Swiss, and you were never around the club growing up. Our way of living life must seem strange to you."
She leaned her head back against his arm and gazed up at the ceiling. "I had a couple of years to wrap my head around the fact that my dad was a biker before meeting him. Though all the rules and regulations that came with wearing a Ronacks patch came as a surprise. I also had no idea how close he was to everyone in the club. He never remarried or even got into a long-term relationship between my mom and Gia, but he did have a family of a sort."
"Was Swiss never in your life?" he asked before thinking. She had a right to her privacy, and he'd sworn on the patch to respect his MC brother's life, no matter his past decisions. Not once since Swiss informed the club about his daughter only a few short months ago had he ever hinted at having a daughter. "Never mind. It's none of my business."
"It's okay."
He shook his head. "It's your dad's story to share."
"No, he lost that right. It's my story." She paused. "My mother took me away from my dad when I was four years old. I lived with my mom and my stepdad, Brad—who was really my uncle, my dad's brother. Brad died when I was a teenager and then a few years later, I went to college. As far as I knew that whole time, my dad was the typical absentee father who wanted nothing to do with me. My mom never talked about him. I actually found out who he was and some of the reasons why they got divorced by reading the paperwork I found at my mom's house after she died."
"Ah, Jesus," he said, confused at the picture she created. That wasn't the Swiss he knew. Whatever he expected her to say, hearing Swiss walked out of her life when she was four years old wasn't it. He knew Swiss well enough to know Swiss not caring about his daughter wasn't part of the story. "Swiss loves you."
"I've learned he does since being here." She glanced at Rod before looking back at the ceiling. "I mean, I understand why he stayed out of my life. I do. I'm sure if I was younger, I would take the explanation without questioning everything. But, my mom is dead, my dad takes all responsibility for everything, and there are times I have questions."
"Then, ask your dad the questions," he said.
She rolled her head against the back of the couch and looked at him. "It serves no purpose, and I am happy to finally have him in my life now. I'm grateful. I wouldn't want to disappoint him or regret inviting me back into his life."
He slipped his hand into hers. "Don't compromise yourself for others."
Heather raised her brows. "I'm not."
A lifetime of experience taught him to put himself first and push away those who fucked with his head because it was the only way to survive. He lived his life protecting what he'd built and making sure nobody took anything from him, including the truth as he knew it.
"How did your mom die?" He brought his arm up and kissed the back of her hand.
"Domestic violence." She sighed. "I was at college when she met a new man. From the phone calls and the few times I came home to spend a weekend with her, he seemed nice. It wasn't until I was notified of her murder that I found out about the abuse she'd suffered. It's what made me start working at the woman's shelter in Seattle after I graduated. Helping others made me feel like I was making up for not being there to save my mom."
"You can't believe that knowing about the abuse your mom went through would've saved her," he said. "Motherfuckers who abuse women never stop. They just get better at hiding it."
"I know, and that's what I told all the women who came to me for help." She shifted and turned toward him. "Enough about me. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Tell me about your family," she asked.
; "They're supportive." He opened up her hand and laid his palm against hers, taking in the size difference. "No matter when I call, they jump to come and help me. Once in a while, we get into trouble, but somehow, we always make it right again. Best of all, we have lots of parties and genuinely enjoy being around each other."
"I'm not asking about the club because if you think they're your real family, you'd have to start calling me your honorary sister, or maybe your niece, and that's pushing some boundaries I'm not going to cross." Heather laughed. "I'd have to go home without sleeping with you."
He grinned. "Since I plan on spending the night between your legs, forget I said anything."
"What about your mom? Dad? Siblings?"
He yawned and put his feet on the floor. "It's just me."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She stood with him. "How long have they been gone."
"It seems like my whole life." He led her to the bedroom. "I need to take a shower."
She stopped beside the bed. "Do you want company?"
His balls tightened, and he undid his belt. "Will you wash my back?"
"Only if you wash mine first." She slipped her shirt over her head.
Not wanting to waste any more time talking, he slipped out of his boots, jeans, vest, and shirt and left the clothes on the floor. Even in his hurry, Heather still beat him into the bathroom.
The drone of water created a flush of warmth over him, and his cock hardened imagining the droplets rolling over her breasts, her ass. He moistened his lips and entered the bathroom.
The glass shower doors gave him a clear view of Heather. He stopped and enjoyed the unobstructed view. Heather tipped her head back under the showerhead and let the water plaster her long hair against her back. He lowered his gaze to her upturned breasts and whistled softly under his breath.
He'd never seen anything so beautiful. Opening the drawer beside the sink, he removed a condom and set it on the rail of the sliding door.
Heather stretched her arms above her head. He slid the door open and stepped inside the shower stall.
She ogled his hardness, got down on her knees and took the head of his cock in her mouth. The splash of water trickling off his body landed on her, and her nipples hardened shooting pleasure through him.
He caressed her cheek with his hand before grasping the base of his cock and removing it from her mouth. She leaned forward to suck him again, but he rubbed the head of his dick over her lips, teasing her.
Sticking her lower lip into a pout, she sat back on her heels.
He held his hand out to help her up. "I want to taste you. All of you."
Switching places, she stood under the water and rubbed her thighs together. "You're impatient."
Trailing his hand down her arm, he lifted her wrist above her head and placed her fingers around the showerhead pipe. "Only with you." He repeated the same thing with her other arm. Glancing down at her breasts, he swallowed the desire choking him. 'Fuck, you're a sight to look at, all wet and sexy."
He dropped to his knees. His hands roamed the length of her thighs, her hips, and urged her to spread her legs. He leaned forward and licked her lower lips. Her hips bucked against his mouth.
She hissed. "More."
He sucked, nibbled, licked, and warmed her pussy with every swipe of his tongue over her swollen clit.
Her leg came up and wrapped around his shoulder. Rod pressed his mouth around her nub, drawing the bundle of nerves between his lips. The sensation of her curled around his upper body was so intense, he forced himself to slow down and draw both their pleasure out longer.
He slid a finger along her pussy.
"Oh..." she said with a long moan.
She lurched at the added pressure. Over and over he thrust until he finally added a second digit inside her and her pussy squeezed around him.
Her body exploded out of control. Her limbs shook with the orgasm moving through her lower body and spread through his head. Riding a high, he gave her pussy another kiss and stood, letting the water hit him in the face, tapping down his need to take her roughly to please himself.
His brain concentrated on one thing. He wanted inside of her.
"Condom?" she asked.
"Always." He reached up and grabbed the protection, rolling it on his dick.
She lowered her hands from the showerhead and hooked her arms around his neck, laying her head against his chest. He held her quivering body against his.
"Up you go, sassy." He lifted her higher.
She wrapped her legs around his waist. He relaxed his hold. Her body slid down his wet, hot body until his cock was fully engulfed by her. Then, he gyrated back and forth, a slow, sensual move. Her pussy, so tight and still constricting after her orgasm, squeezed his cock.
Rod pulled her tight against him, his fingers digging into her ass. His legs shook beneath him, and his balls throbbed in pleasure. He came deep and hard, taking her softly. "Fucking good," he muttered, lost for words
She let her legs slide off him, and he helped her stand and gain her balance. He grabbed the dry washcloth she had hung on the soap rack and proceeded to lather her whole body.
"You're incredible." She ran her hand over his chest and lightly skimmed the scar below his ribs.
"Yeah?" He switched places with her and used the soap to wash off.
"Absolutely." She yawned. "Wasn't it good for you?"
He washed his face before answering her question. "I have one complaint."
"Something I did?" She frowned. "What?"
He lifted her hand and placed the soap in her grasp. "You never washed my back like you promised."
"You jerk. I panicked thinking you were serious." She laughed softly. "Turn around. I'll wash your back."
He pivoted, put his hands on the wall, and let his head fall forward. The water ran down his back. She rubbed the soap over him, then he felt the smooth, tender caress of her hands roaming over the width of his back. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, content and powerfully submissive to her touch.
When she stopped, pressed her body along his back, and laid her head on him, he turned and helped her out of the shower. He dried them both off and led her to bed. She was practically walking in her sleep.
She crawled up on the bed and snuggled against the wall. He laid down and curled around her body.
"Night," she whispered.
He kissed the back of her head and cupped her breast. "Night."
She sighed and whispered, "Your bed is still too small."
"Big enough for us," he whispered back.
Chapter Nineteen
Rod backed his Harley until the rear tire hit the curb in front of the grocery store. Heather slipped off the motorcycle and removed her helmet. At nine o'clock on a Sunday night, only a few cars were parked in the lot.
The last few days had gone by in a whirlwind of working and spending her off-time with Rod. In the mornings, he'd drop her off at the duplex where she'd nap while doing laundry until it was time to head to the bar again. Her new schedule exhausted her, but she ran on adrenaline and the newness of her relationship with Rod.
Today was her first full day off work after a long week, and she looked forward to going to the clubhouse and seeing everyone. High security within the club had lowered to low security since there had been no sign of trouble or danger for Rod. Her stress had fled with regaining her freedom.
Rod grabbed her hand and slipped his fingers between hers. She hurried to keep up with his longer stride.
"What does Raelyn need us to get again?" he asked.
"A can of dried onions. She needs it for the casserole she's bringing tonight, and I told her we'd go, so she doesn't have to drag Dukie through the store." Heather stepped in front of him to walk through the automatic door. "Dukie's at the age where it's a chore to take him anywhere. Besides, she's had a tough week at work. At least at the clubhouse, she can put her feet up, and there's a ton of people to watch over Dukie."
Rod stopped walking. She glanced behi
nd her. "What's wrong?"
He gazed around the store, tense and highly alert. She stepped back to his side when it dawned on her that he wasn't tense because something was wrong. He appeared more like a startled deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car.
She laughed.
His gaze whipped to her.
She kissed him softly. "Don't tell me I'm taking your shopping virginity."
"Cute," he said, pulling her deeper into the store. "I'll have you know, it's not my first time here."
She read the signs above the aisles. "When was the last time you've gone shopping?"
"Ten years or so." He picked up a bottle of barbecue sauce, studied the label, and put it back on the shelf. "The women who hang around the club usually get my groceries if I ask."
"Lucky you," she mumbled.
Rod grinned. "Are you jealous?"
"Absolutely not." She found the item Raelyn needed and together, they walked up to the cashier.
Jealousy was an ugly word. What she felt was uncomfortable. She was too old to worry about other women around Rod or in his past, and if he chose to go to someone else while seeing her, well...she deserved better and would step away. Life was too short to play games with her happiness.
The female cashier slid the can of dried onions over the scanner. "That'll be three dollars and ninety-seven cents."
Rod paid for the item.
"Thanks." Heather picked up the can and walked toward the exit.
Rod grabbed her wrist before she could take a step out of the store. "What's your hurry?"
"I'm not in...I guess I'm excited to see everyone outside of work." She slid her arms around him and looked up into his eyes. "And, to be with you."
"Yeah?"
She tilted her head, second guessing herself. "Unless you'd like to keep what we're doing to ourselves."
"Nah." He walked her outside. "Everyone knows about us."
"Everyone?"
He took the can of dried onions from her and slipped it into the saddlebag. "You've been sleeping at my place all week."
"Oh," she said. "Good point."