Joyride: (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series)

by DD Prince

  He was sitting on his motorcycle, waiting for me, a helmet in his hand. An unreadable expression on his face.

  Shit. I was afraid of this.

  His motorcycle. My chariot. My chariot awaited me, to take me to… where? The pits of Hell?

  He got off the bike and put my helmet on me, buckling it up, looking into my eyes with a smug smirk that was evident even though it was dark out.

  Rob, Uncle Lou, and Jase stumbled off into the night, saying their goodnights as they headed somewhere on foot. Rob’s buds both lived in the neighborhood, so I guessed they were going to one of their houses.

  I glanced at my parents’ house and all the lights were off, only Mom’s car in the driveway. It was after midnight. Had Dad already moved out? Wait. Was he giving up the house? This was his childhood home. He couldn’t move out! I felt even more panicked. She’d sell it in a heartbeat. I had visions of catching my kids at the bottom of that big wide polished painted white wood banister, letting them slide down it as much as they wanted. Once they were old enough to do it safely, of course.

  “Get on,” Rider said, no growled.

  I hadn’t told him about my folks, so maybe he thought my increased registering horror was only about him.

  I climbed on and he started up the bike and then he rocketed away, making me grab him and hold on for dear life.

  He drove back to my place too dangerously for my tastes, and I didn’t enjoy that ride. At all. In fact, it was scary!

  When he parked, and I got off, I started shouting.

  “You trying to get us killed?”

  He had a scowl on his face as he got off the bike.

  “You’re an asshole, Rider Valentine!” I stormed up the stairs to my apartment.

  “Yeah, well, you’re bein’ a bitch, Genevieve Maybelle Murdoch.”

  “God, you’re such a jerk,” I hissed and slammed my bedroom door in his face.

  He opened it and was in there with me. “Don’t forget, Genevieve, you have a debt to pay. Get undressed.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “You’re gonna make me do this?”

  “A bet’s a bet.”

  I glared at him. “You can’t be serious. Making a girl who can barely stand you, fuck you?”

  “A bet’s a bet. My rules. And serious as a heart attack.” He undid his pants and pulled his belt out of the loops. He held the halved belt in his hand. I stared at it in horror.

  “Get undressed.”

  Oh my God. What was he gonna do with that belt?

  This was it. I’d pay my debt tonight. Fine. All right then.

  And, that would work Rider Valentine straight out of my system. Like the flush of a toilet. Whoosh. Gone.

  Asshole!

  I was wearing a cute cornflower blue babydoll tee, faded boyfriend jeans, and my baby blue Converse slip-ons, no socks. I kicked my shoes off and then undid and dropped my jeans. I threw my shirt off angrily, momentarily getting stuck in it. I was wearing a baby blue thong and a white lacy bra. I stared at him and blew my hair out of my eyes.

  He took in my body hungrily with his gaze and then he threw his brown Henley over his head and dropped it, then dropped his dark blue button fly jeans. I noticed that the pile of clean clothes on my dresser had shrunk and realized the brown Henley was one I’d folded after laundering it the day before.

  He took a step toward me and grabbed for my ass cheeks, pulling me to him.

  I looked up at him, holding my elbows with opposite hands, not looking down at his nakedness.

  “You wanna go do anything to get ready for bed, do it now.” His voice was husky. He gave my ass a squeeze and let go.

  I backed away from him and went into my bathroom and shakily washed my makeup off and brushed my teeth.

  I was so shaky. What was I in for tonight? What would I endure before flushing the rest of him out of my mind forever? I heard Luke “Lick” Hanson’s voice in my head.

  “Yeah, you fuckin’ whore, we’re gonna fuck all your holes until they bleed.”

  I finally went back into my room, not able to procrastinate further. The lights were out, and he was in my bed. I left the bathroom light on and closed the door half way. It was probably too bright, but I needed to see. I needed to make sure that I got the full affect of his anger so that I would be able to flush these feelings away.

  He threw the blanket over and patted my side.

  I climbed in, still in my bra and panties, not knowing for how long.

  He tossed the corner so that the blanket floated down on top of me, then he pulled me to him and kissed me. I braced, but it was slow, sweet, gentle. I was stiff at first, but eventually melted into it.

  And then I pulled back to catch my breath.

  “First rule,” he whispered, “No pulling back.”

  “What other rules do I have?” I asked, haughtily.

  “No other rules,” he whispered, and his mouth was on mine again.

  He kissed me briefly this time and then pulled me close. My head was on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around my waist.

  And… nothing.

  He was just lying there.

  My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I stayed put. He pulled me closer. Okay, I was braced for whatever was about to happen.

  He sifted his hand through my hair and kissed the top of my head and pulled me over more so that my head was on his heart.

  And there was that sound again. The sound of his heart beating.

  A minute went by.

  Two.

  Three.

  “Rider?” I asked.

  “Hm?”

  “What… what is this?”

  “Go to sleep, gorgeous.”

  I blinked.

  “What kind of game is this?” My voice was barely a croak.

  “No game,” he said.

  “Bullshit,” I snapped.

  “No bullshit, Jenna.”

  My chest was burning. There was this searing pain in my shoulders, this… aching. It ached so much.

  Don’t cry, Jenna. No tears!

  His hand sifted sweetly through my hair again.

  I lifted up on an elbow and looked down at his face, which I could see well due to that bathroom light.

  “Are you serious?”

  “A hundred per cent.”

  I blinked.

  But…

  How could I get him out of my head if he wasn’t going to hate fuck these feelings right away… if he wasn’t going to make me actually hate him?

  “You won the bet,” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “And you’re not gonna make me actually…” I let that hang.

  “I get what I want tonight from you. This is what I want.”

  I didn’t know how to decode this.

  What the fudge was he playing at?

  I scratched my head and gave my head a shake.

  “You wouldn’t have really taken my Harley if you’d won, would ya?”

  “Fuck yeah!” I said without hesitation.

  Laughter burst out of him. Hard, unabashed, and fucking beautiful. He rolled me and pinned me. He was he was kissing me breathless.

  I started kissing him back. And then I couldn’t take it anymore. I rolled him and climbed onto him and thrust my hands into his hair.

  “We don’t have to do this tonight,” he said.

  “I want to,” I said and undid the clasp at the front of my bra and threw it off. His eyes went right to my boobs.

  I climbed off, peeled my panties off, and then climbed back on, lined him up and slowly lowered myself until he was all the way inside.

  He threw his hands over his head and watched, eyes heated.

  I ran my hands up and down his chest, played with his nipple piercing, and then I started to pick up the pace. And then I slowed, going slow, deep, circling.

  “You gonna take yourself there?” he asked, his voice almost guttural.

  I nodded enthusiastically and put my hand at our connection and began to rub bo
th of us. My other hand went to his nipple and toyed with it. I started going faster, circling with my hips, throwing my head back as I absorbed the sensations, how good he felt. I took myself, with my fingers, to the edge. I looked down at him and he was watching, looking possessed with lust, his knuckles braced against my mauve headboard, his biceps straining, like he was fighting against taking over, the way he wanted to do.

  I grabbed his hands and weaved his fingers with mine, and started rocking harder, faster, bigger circles, tightening my inner walls, and he let out an almost roar as we rocked so hard my headboard started thudding against the wall.

  We came together.

  I finished with my face buried in his throat.

  My eyes were shut tight, my heart hammering with a threat to fly right out of my chest, and his hands sweetly ran up and down my back.

  He kissed my throat and gently moved my hair, which was all over his face, out of the way, getting it into a ponytail in his fist and tugging so that I had to look at his face.

  Rider likes it rough. But, he can also be incredibly sweet. You could say that he pulls my hair. And my heart strings, too.

  I was smiling, I think. Blissed out.

  “Had a feeling this was how it’d go down.”

  “Hm?” I asked, still recovering from a definite top 3 orgasm ever.

  “You. This. You wanted it. You played your little game pretending you didn’t. But you wanted me. As soon as I backed off, I knew this’d happen.”

  My heart dropped.

  Another game.

  My expression must’ve dropped, too.

  “It’s okay, however we got here, gorgeous. It’s all okay by me.”

  Well, it wasn’t okay by me.

  “Everything is a game to you,” I choked out.

  He shook his head. “No.” He let go of my hair.

  “It is. It’s all a fucking joke.” I started to pull away.

  “Get back here…” he sounded angry.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Listen to me…”

  “No. Screw off.”

  “Jenna! Fuckin’ listen to me!”

  I stopped and waited to see what he was going to say.

  This game we were playing? I didn’t know how would end. He was systematically breaking down my walls. On one hand I wanted him to stop. Go away. Dirty rotten scoundrel. On the other, everyone gives up on me, eventually, and part of me doesn't want him to give up on me, ever. His ‘no matter how hard you fight, I don’t give up until you submit” was kind of endearing.

  But this? Did this guy take anything seriously? Jojo said he used humor to deflect. But, come on. This was ridiculous.

  He was just staring. Smiling.

  I shook my head in disgust.

  “Go find your next conquest. I’m not playing games anymore, Rider.”

  “Me neither, Jenna. Stopped bein’ fun. No more games that aren’t fun. Let’s shake on that.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been playing your games, too. Pushing me away, I let you think it’s workin’ and then you panic and try to reel me in again. Keep me hooked, right?”

  “I’m not playing games.”

  “Maybe you don’t think you are, baby, but you are. And you’re getting really predictable.”

  “Monogamy, monotony?” I challenged, pulling the blanket up to cover my nakedness.

  “Nothing even remotely monotonous about you, beautiful. Even when I can predict your next move.”

  I sighed.

  “No more games. How ‘bout we both agree to that. You give this an actual honest chance.”

  “I gave it a chance, but…”

  “You gave up at the first sign of trouble, babe. You were lookin’ for a reason to give up from the start and I wasn’t even close to lookin’ for an out. Not once. I was getting deeper by the minute. Any idea how much that hurt?”

  I blinked. I was hurting him? No. I was protecting myself, so he wouldn’t hurt me. There was a lump in my throat. God, I didn’t want to hurt him.

  I shook my head, dumbfounded. “So, okay, how does this go, then? I stop letting you chase me, I let you catch me, and then you get bored?”

  He froze.

  “This still a game to you?” he clipped. “Even right now?”

  “Seems like you want games, Rider Valentine. If I wanna keep you, I have to play, keep things interesting, right?”

  He growled in my face, “This isn’t a fucking game. Not anymore. Fight, don’t fight. Either way, I’m not letting up on you, I’m not letting you slip through my fingers. Ever.”

  “Stalker,” I scoffed and jumped out of bed and headed toward the door, figuring I could grab my robe from the hook on the back of it. Go sleep on the couch or in Pippa’s bed if she wasn’t home again.

  “Not joking, Jenna.” He caught my arm and wouldn’t let me pull away.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “You know why.”

  “I do?” I looked at him bewildered.

  “You know you do.”

  “I don’t, Rider. I really, really fucking don’t.”

  He moved into my space, pinning me with his body against the door and he went from looking on the verge of rage to sweet.

  “Because I love you, gorgeous. The wild parts, the sweet parts. The bitchy parts. All your parts.” He grabbed my ass into both hands.

  He loves me? Loves me?

  I couldn’t even blink for the longest time. Until I finally did. And that was the third time that I, Genevieve “Jenna” Maybelle Murdoch, cried in front of a boy.

  “Why would you love me? I’m a materialistic biker-bigot dead lay.” Tears streamed down my cheeks.

  “No.” He shook his head and put his thumbs to my cheeks to catch the tears. “You’re high maintenance, but I’ve decided that it’s worth it. You’re generous. You give so much. And you’re getting better in bed every time I fuck you. I’m clearly an excellent fuckin’ teacher, because you’re getting seriously good at it. Though, you’re not through training yet. Got at least 1000 more lessons for ya. Then we’ll see where you’re at.”

  I closed my eyes tight and planted my face in his chest. He walked me back to the bed and we tumbled down onto it and he wrapped me up in the blanket and kept his arms around me.

  “You don’t love me,” I whispered.

  “I just said I did.”

  I shook my head. “You’re so m-mean.”

  “Mean?” He sounded amused as I was crying into his chest.

  “How am I mean?”

  “You do all these things, all these crazy sweet things after breaking my heart telling me I sucked in bed.”

  “But, you did, babe.”

  I laughed. And he laughed too, and wiped my tears.

  “But you don’t suck now, Jenna.” He kissed my mouth. “If I didn’t say anything you’d just keep taking what I give you and just fuckin’ lie there. At least when you were fighting me off, you were doing something. And you’re really fuckin’ good at it when you hate fuck me.”

  “You hate fucked me first and that wasn’t nice, either.”

  “That wasn’t even a hate fuck. I made a joke. One of these days, you’re probably gonna piss me off enough for us to have some serious angry sex, but what I’m startin’ to see from you, I could see you intentionally pissin’ me off just to get that. You’ll get off on it that much.”

  I gave him a twisted-up expression. “Uh. I doubt it.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Maybe I should make you edge and beg for it.”

  “Maybe you should.” He squeezed me tighter. “Maybe you should think up all sorts of fun sex games for us. I’m already making my list.”

  I started to laugh.

  What a crazy night. Crazy few days. No weeks.

  My laugh melted away and I was feeling all sorts of feels all through me.

  He loves me?

  He’d never been in a serious relationship before and a few weeks into this, he decides he loves
me?

  Could I trust this?

  “Jenna,” he said, sounding serious.

  I looked up at his face and then wiped the tears, which were blurring my vision, away.

  “I’m not joking. Every day I see something I seriously fuckin’ dig with you. Something new every day. Scoot’s been giving me reports, you know. All the guys. They’ve all got good things to say.”

  “Except Jesse,” I said.

  “Even Jesse. You’re a good person. A great fuckin’ person. Stuff you do for your friends. Your customers. Me.”

  “I’ve been a pain in your ass,” I muttered.

  “Yeah. But watching you push me away was entertaining. You make me laugh. You keep me warm at night. So fuckin’ sweet the way you snuggle up to me. You did my laundry even when you were pissed. I seriously dig your towels and your sheets. You clean up my messes. You defended me to your Ma, even when you were furious with me. Looked like you wanted to take my own mother on a few times to defend me. You took my sister under your wing like she was as close to you as Ella and you’d just met her. You even defended Gia just because Joelle said she was good people. The way you were there for me during the funeral? Shit. Yeah, and you’re very, very easy on the eyes.”

  I rolled my eyes, but I had a smile on my face.

  “I love you, Genevieve Maybelle Murdoch.”

  I choked on a sob.

  He smiled at me.

  “Please don’t break my heart.”

  His smile slipped.

  “Please don’t.” I was sobbing, then began rambling auctioneer-fast again. “I don’t even cry in front of guys, because I got hurt when I was seventeen and I gave him my V-card and he was screwing a bunch of other girls when we were supposed to go off together in his VW bus after high school and he made fun of my crying in front of the whole school, so I’ve been so careful since then. Every guy I date gives up because I’m high maintenance. And because I keep them at arms’ length and I try to be the good time girl. The fun girl. But, inside I’m just… my mother doesn’t love me. She’s always been disappointed in me and hated my grandmother Genevieve, and when she calls me that name it’s just to remind me she finds me such a disappointment, so please don’t call me that. And my father doesn’t love her. He told me the other day they’re separating and I’m afraid she’s gonna go postal and eviscerate him and me. And I just---I love you, too. Like I’ve never loved anyone.”