Percy: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Lonely Rider MC Book 1)

by Melissa Devenport

  She recalled something, a face. Dark. Broody. Incredibly handsome, though she doubted most people would think so. Sexual. That look on the man’s face. A picture of a brick wall flashed through her agonized, probably still drunk, brain. The alley. I went to an alley with him. That man. Percy. His name was Percy.

  Had she brought him back to her place? Continued things there? Why couldn’t she remember? Was he in the other room? If he was, why was he screaming like that? Had someone broken in?

  Shanna went to the pull the blankets up around her head, as though that would somehow protect her from whatever terror was in the other room, but she quickly realized she was on top of the bed. Fully dressed.

  Her eyes flew open and she made herself move. She swung her legs over the bed. A pale wash of light crept under the closed door. A door in the wrong place. I’m not in the guest house. I must be in… his place?

  Though her body protested every single movement and her head felt like someone had crammed it full of broken glass and cotton, Shanna forced herself to move. She pulled open the door and blinked into the light filtering down from a single bare bulb in a small hallway. Definitely not the guest house.

  A wretched moan came louder, closer. She forced herself to take a few more steps. She didn’t know why she was doing it, when what she really wanted to do was either lock herself in the bedroom or get the hell out of there. The sound was so terrible, so heartbreaking. Is he in trouble? Percy?

  She found him in the smallest living room. The only piece of furniture in the area was a large chair. It was the kind that reclined, leather, though most of that had peeled away. He was there, the man from the alley, the man from the bar. He was there, sleeping.

  Dreaming. No, not dreaming. Those sounds aren’t from any kind of good dream. A nightmare maybe.

  Even though she had her doubts, though she just wanted to get out of there, Shanna reached out and put her hand on Percy’s shoulder. Her touch was all it took to bring him round.

  He flew forward, sprang out of the chair like a wild beast. His eyes were wild, terrified. She screamed as his weight fell on top of her, knocked the breath out of her. That sound seemed to bring him round.

  He stared down at her, hands pinning her shoulders to the floor, his knee between her legs. He’d jumped on her like he was ready to throttle her, like she’d meant him harm.

  “Jesus, god…” he backed off as quickly as he’d exploded out of that chair. He rolled away to the side and scrambled back a few feet. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, trying to get his shit together. “Fuck…”

  Shanna was too afraid to sit up. Too shocked. Too… too much of everything. That crash to the floor hadn’t helped the pain in her head any. It was nearly blinding. It hurt to even blink. Finally, she forced herself upright. It took more strength than she thought it would. She reached out, but Percy dropped his hands from his face and scrambled back another foot, out of reach.

  “Please, don’t touch me,” he said hoarsely.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I seriously- I wasn’t- you were just making these terrible sounds. I woke up and had no idea where I was. I came out here and tried to wake you. That’s it. I promise I-”

  “Fuck.” He shook his head. “Fuck.”

  Doesn’t that just sum everything up about right. “I…”

  “I brought you here because you blacked out in the alley. I swear I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “No, no of course not,” she mumbled. “I believe you. I didn’t think you would have. You seem like a decent guy.” He looked at her ruefully and she regretted her words almost instantly. A decent guy? Can I be any more pathetic?

  “That, I am not.”

  “Well… you brought me here. Where I was safe. You must have carried me, god knows how far. You made sure I was okay, when you could have just left me there in the alley for anyone to find. I wouldn’t have known the difference.”

  “I would never have done that.”

  “I know. Which is why you’re- decent.” She wanted to wince at that word. It was so… so ridiculous. She couldn’t come up with anything better, which made her a little ashamed of herself. If her brain was functioning normally, she wouldn’t have had to embarrass herself with such a limited vocabulary. “Uh…” he didn’t say anything. He remained frozen on the floor. “Are you okay? You were making the- these noises. It was frightening. It sounded like you were in pain. I wouldn’t have disturbed you otherwise.”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m sorry that I scared you.”

  “No, that’s okay. Really. I- are you really fine?” She levelled a direct gaze his way, but Percy was the kind of man who was well trained in giving little away. His face betrayed nothing of what he was feeling, if he felt anything at all. For some reason, she knew he did. Behind that careful façade there was probably a mass of pain festering. “I- I’m only asking because people used to ask me that same question all the time. I’d always say I was. Fine that is. But I knew- I knew that I wasn’t really. I was fucked up inside. I was in a relationship with a man I didn’t even love. No wonder he fucking cheated on me. He didn’t love me either. He probably didn’t love her. Just- he was just lost. I was lost. And we were together, I guess because we were too lazy or afraid to start our lives over doing something else with someone else.” She was rambling. She wanted to stop herself, but he words just poured out.

  “I see,” Percy finally said. He heaved a sigh. His face still didn’t change. “That explains why you’re in Mexico, getting drunk on tequila, looking for a quick fuck in an alley.”

  Shanna’s body heated, not from embarrassment like it should have, but with a rush of pure, erotic energy. She suddenly recalled the way Percy’s mouth felt on her sex, the dirty words he used, the feel of his finger inside of her, fucking her so very sweetly. She recalled how he made her feel alive. Alive for the first time in her whole damn life. She tried to make herself feel embarrassment or shame, but she just couldn’t. And what the hell does that say about me?

  “I wasn’t looking for a quick fuck,” she said softly. She had to look away, down at her hands, which were folded in front of her. She sat sideways, her legs tucked in against her, exposing nothing even in the short dress.

  The room was suddenly filled up with a short, hard burst of laughter. It was so unexpected, Shanna actually jerked a little. Her eyes flew to Percy, who actually looked a little astounded.

  “Lord,” he muttered. “It’s been a long time since someone made me laugh.” His lips, which she had thought were a tad too thin in the bar, but had felt so fucking good pressed against her body, filled out when they smiled. He had a sensual mouth, she realized, a beautiful mouth. A mouth made for passion and kissing and… and loving.

  Loving. She didn’t know why, but she had the feeling, a painful, hollowed out kind of feeling, that no one had ever really loved Percy. Had he ever loved anyone either? Have I? Truly? The answer, she was shocked to realize, was no. She hadn’t truly loved Bill. They’d met through a mutual friend and the attraction was there, but it quickly fizzled out. The rest of the time they were what? Filling time? Killing time? She realized it in hindsight. It was true what people said. You always could see clearest looking back. What a pair we are. Maybe I’m making it up. Maybe he’s been loved and loved, but I don’t think so.

  “You look good like that,” she said softly. “When you laugh. It makes your face softer.”

  “Do I have a hard face?”

  She was finally brave enough to look at him. His face was softer, even just a little. Her body responded instantly, her heart thumping, her breath coming a little more erratic. She needed to distance herself, but she couldn’t force her body to move. She cleared her throat instead.

  “I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my business what your face is.”

  “But you liked it, at the bar. Maybe because you were drunk.”

  No. I would have liked it even if I was sober. “Uh… I don�
�t know. I’ve never done anything like that. I remember you accused me of being a good girl. Maybe I was kind of a good girl at home. I was just like everyone else. I guess I wanted that life more than I wanted it to mean something with someone.”

  “So that guy who cheated on you…”

  “It still hurt. But maybe it was for the best. I didn’t feel that way when it happened. I actually threw a kettle at his head.”

  “You what?”

  “Yup. That’s right. Shanna the good girl. I picked it up and launched it at him. He called the cops.” She realized, when Percy’s lips parted just a little, that she’d told him her name. Fair was fair. She knew his.

  “And were you arrested?”

  “No. He didn’t press charges. He cleared everything up. Said he overreacted. They ended up leaving and nothing was done. I packed up and left. Went and got my stuff the next day. We were just renting a house so he’s stuck with it for now, unless he’s moved already. I don’t know. It was a few weeks ago. I went and stayed with my mom. She’s- uh- well, she’s not that easy to get along with. I don’t know why, but I was out, probably because I couldn’t stand being at home. I worked and then I just stayed and walked around downtown and- and I walked past a travel place and they had this poster advertising this amazing deal to Mexico. I hadn’t taken any holidays. Like ever. I thought that it would be a good break. I didn’t book with them. I found this little private place and got myself a plane ticket. It was way cheaper that way. I just came to decompress. To think about things. I guess, to heal, as corny as that sounds.”

  “And your way of healing is to fuck a stranger?”

  That time her face did heat up. She felt the painful blush and knew her cheeks were beyond pink. “I don’t know. Is that so horrible?”

  “Nope. Just wondering.” Percy shifted. He pushed himself off the floor. He didn’t offer a hand. Just stared down at her and finally she got the hint. She stood shakily. “I should probably take you back home. It’s not raining anymore. I can take you on my bike.”

  “On your bike?” Of course he had a bike. I fucking knew it.

  “Yes. Or I could call you a cab. I just don’t know if you’ll get one at…” he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “At four in the morning. It might be a long wait.”

  “I wasn’t staying far from the bar. A few miles.”

  One of Percy’s dark brows lifted in question. “You walked all that way in heels?”

  Her feet were bare. Which meant he had removed her shoes before he put her in his bed. They were probably in his bedroom somewhere. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I don’t mind. I wear heels almost every single day for work.”

  “You work in retail.”

  “How did you know?”

  “You said so, last night.”

  “Oh.” Shanna was immediately flustered. He wasn’t some crazy mind reader after all. A warlock? Had she called him that last night? She seemed to remember saying something along those lines, something incredibly stupid.

  “I don’t live that far from the bar. You could walk if you like, but I wouldn’t. Not at this hour. Not when it’s still dark and you’re probably still drunk.”

  “I couldn’t make it,” she admitted. “If you want to take me on your bike, it would be appreciated.” Her body warmed at the thought of being pressed up against Percy’s back, holding tight to his midsection, her cheek to the leather jacket.

  Percy nodded once, gruffly. “Find your shoes and meet me out front. I’ll have the bike ready.” He turned and disappeared out the front door she noticed for the first time. Left her alone in his place, all alone, with her jumbled, scrambled thoughts and the throbbing deep inside that refused to go away.

  Chapter 7

  The Name Of An Angel

  Percy

  Shanna. The beautiful angel now had a name. And after a ride that shouldn’t have been torturous, but was, he now knew where she lived. She’d spent the ride pressed up against him, hanging on for dear life, thankfully only gripping him through his clothes. It was a small mercy. He wouldn’t have made it through the ride if she’d grazed his skin. He hated being touched more than anything, especially after one of his nightmares. They happened far less than they used to, but when they did come, they came with a force that was haunting and brutal. Sometimes he’d drink for days, ride for days, do anything, just to shake the memories.

  Even though the cool sweat remained, his skin prickled and the hair on his neck and arms hadn’t quite set down, his angel did something to him. He was fucking hard. Again. His dick stood at full attention, amazingly enough.

  It was a first. After one of those nightmares, he was too flooded with terror to even think of his body as anything but the enemy.

  Shanna’s touch, astoundingly enough, eased him. She brought him through it, that terror, that disgust, the flood of memories, without even knowing it. She healed him as she clung to him, with her sweet presence, her easy smile, flashing eyes, and delicate beauty. She dispelled the horror with her humor, the way she laughed at herself. And made him laugh.

  It was a feat no one else had been able to achieve. Not for years, and seldom before that.

  Shanna slid off the bike behind him. He braced the heavy machine with his feet, unsure if he wanted to park it. He finally decided he would, seeing as he pulled up in front of a large white house and it was still dark. He wanted to see that she got safely inside, or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself after.

  She fumbled with the strap of the helmet he’d given her. He opted to go without, as he usually did. Will it smell like her after? His eyes were drawn to the protective wear. He couldn’t believe how strong his desire was to wear it on the way home, to breathe in and make her presence last just a little longer.

  His eyes raked over her and in that quick assessment, he memorized every single detail. Her face. Her beautiful, strangely colored eyes. Her rose hued lips that looked so petal soft. Her slender neck, the way her collar bones jutted up a little by her shoulders, the swell of her breast her narrow waist and long, creamy legs. The ridiculous heels she somehow walked so well in. He’d remember it all.

  “Here.” She passed back the helmet when he’d parked the bike.

  He took it from her gently and barely resisted the urge to bring it to his face and inhale. Soon enough. His dick jerked hard.

  “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you. For- for looking after me. For keeping me safe and driving me home. You have no idea how grateful I am.”

  “Let me walk you to your door. So I know you got there.”

  “I’m fine from here. The guest house is just in the back.”

  “Still.” Incredibly enough, he insisted. Anyone else, he would have been happy to just wash off his hands. He held her gaze, sure she’d say no, but then she blinked and nodded.

  “Alright.”

  He set the helmet on the handlebars of his bike and followed Shanna past the larger pretty white house with the perfect yard into the back. He tried very hard, tried and failed, not to stare at her tight ass as she walked. Her dress was short though, and tight, framing that round sweet ass of hers. There was a smaller guest house. It was pretty, complete with a red door. Like something out of a story book. Something quaint and delicate. Of course Shanna would pick this place. It’s perfect for her.

  “Well, this is it.” Shanna looked down at her feet before she looked back at him. “Thanks again. For everything.”

  “Everything?” Impossibly enough, he nearly smiled again.

  That pretty pink stain of a blush was back on her cheeks. She was shyer, when she wasn’t quite so drunk. He had the feeling if she hadn’t had those drinks she never would have spoken a single word to him, even if she wanted to. And it was pretty damn astounding that she’d even considered it.

  “I- I guess so. It was good. You know- before I blacked out.” She laughed at herself, wryly. Her smile and her laugh were contagious.

  He found himself lifted, found himself in a plac
e where it was just him and her. Neither of them had a past. For that moment, there was no bullshit. No cheating partners, no breakups, no gang, no father who was supposed to protect and did the exact opposite, no mothers who died of breast cancer.

  “It was good.” What the fuck? Did I really just say that? “I- I hope you get everything figured out.” Just leave… stop.

  “Thanks.” Shanna hesitated, like she was going to say something else, but she pressed her lips together into a hard line instead.

  “Goodnight. Or good morning. Or whatever.” Could I make this any worse?

  “Percy…” her name on his lips brought both their heads up.

  Her name on his lips was dangerous. It made him want to grab her, to do things to her, with her. He stared at her mouth and for the first time in his life, he wanted to kiss someone. No, not someone. Her. Shanna. My back alley angel. His cock throbbed and kicked up. His heart rate sped up, pumping blood to parts of his body he didn’t know could tingle like they did. That lead heaviness in his stomach settled in. Settled in for good.

  “I thought we said no names,” he finally choked out roughly.

  “You said no names. I don’t know that I agreed. And maybe that was drunk me talking. This is still drunk me, but not quite as drunk me. This is… I’m Shanna. And you’re Percy.”

  She didn’t make fun of his name. She didn’t say a damn thing about it, the name he loved and hated in turns. Loved because it was his mother’s father’s name. Because every single minute of the day he wished she was still with him. Her death had started a landslide of events that changed the course of his life. A life he’d been lucky to make it out of alive. A life that still haunted him, asleep and awake.

  His desire to kiss her was just a biological urge. A strange one, but one that was bound to happen at some time in his life. His throbbing dick and the fact that their session was cut short in the alley probably brought it on. But there had been that nightmare, the nightmare that fucked him up every single time it came. Sometimes for weeks, sometimes for months. She’d dispelled his fear and the memory as quickly as it came on. Dispelled it just by being there. By existing. He’d searched his entire life for something that would be that effective. Alcohol, bikes, the open road, the gang, his brotherhood… nothing helped. Nothing. He would have tried meditation if he thought it would work.