A Ride or Die Kind of Love

by Chelsea Camaron

  “Fuck, baby, not gonna last long. Missed your sweet pussy.”

  “Me either,” I whisper. I close my eyes and bite his neck.

  “Fuck, harder, baby.”

  I bite him harder and he growls, erupting inside me. At the feel of his pulsing, and the sounds of his groaning, I come hard. I clench around him and cry out into his shoulder as quietly as possible, as my much needed release rips through me. We rock like that for long moments, just enjoying the feeling of being so close, so together. I lift my head from his shoulder and look him right in the eye. “Well, now we can say we’ve done it all,” I smile.

  He grins and wraps his arms around me. “There’ll be plenty more for us to discover, now you’re free.”

  Being free is so completely overwhelming. I never imagined this was the path my life would take, but I’m certainly grateful it did. Now Cade and I can start creating something worth fighting for. Speaking of, I have noticed he and Spike don’t seem as tense. I really hope they can find it in themselves to forgive and forget.

  “You and Spike seem to be getting along better,” I mention casually, but my heart is thudding with curiosity.

  “Yeah, he even sat down and had a beer with Jackson and I the other night.”

  “I hope one day you two can sort it out.”

  He nods, grinning at me. “Yeah, sugar, me too.”

  “Did Jackson deal with Britney?”

  When Jackson and Cade found out Britney was the one to give away my location, they were furious. I was too; she nearly had me killed, and for what? The chance to be someone’s Old Lady. I guess it goes to show how desperate some people can become.

  “He threatened her within an inch of her life. If she wasn’t a girl, she’d be dead.”

  I have no doubt about that. I am still in mild shock over the fact that she would do something so low. Britney is very lucky she’s alive right now, and I know she wouldn’t dare show her face on the compound again.

  “Did he order her out of town?” I ask.

  Cade nods. “Fuck yeah, and she wouldn’t dare come back.”

  I sigh deeply, relieved. “Well, at least it’s all over now.”

  He nods. “Sugar, much as I love ya, it’s kinda gettin’ a bit slippery in there, if you know what I mean.”

  I laugh and lift myself off him. We both straighten ourselves up and head back out. I walk over to the large window, take a seat and stare out at the hills I can see over the tops of the hospital. That’s the good thing about being on the top floor. Cade kneels in front of me, reaches up and takes my hands.

  “Fuckin’ love you, sugar. You know that, yeah?”

  I nod. “Cade, I know that. I’ve known that for a while now. The thing is-”

  “I want you to know how much.”

  Stubborn man is cutting me off at the one moment I want to tell him I love him.

  “I know how much, the thing is-”

  “Sugar, you’re fuckin’ changin’ everything I am.”

  “You’re changing everything I am too, that’s why I wanted to-”

  “Sugar, fuck,” he growls. “Do you ever stop talkin’ for five minutes?”

  “I’m trying to-”

  “Sugar!” he says, tugging my hands. “Shut the fuck up!”

  “Why?” I cry.

  “Because I’m tryin’ to fuckin’ ask you to marry me.”

  My entire world stops. I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest, but in the best possible way. He wants to marry me? Cade Duke – big, bad biker – wants to marry me? I feel my eyes burn with unshed tears, as a feeling of pure joy rushes through my body.

  “That got your attention,” he grumbles, then he squeezes my hands harder. “If you let me talk, you would let me say that you fuckin’ changed me. I have never loved anyone in my life, but you, fuck…you changed that. I’m not goin’ to get all sappy on you, ‘coz we both know I don’t do that shit, but I will tell you this, you’re the fuckin’ meaning of breathing for me. You’re the reason I get out of bed each day and fuck, if that’s love, I am gonna hang onto it and never let it go. So, will you marry me?”

  I am crying now, but I laugh through my tears. “If you let me talk,” I rasp. “You would have let me tell you that I love you too, you stupid, stubborn-ass biker!”

  He stares at me, then he roars with laughter and pulls me into his arms.

  “Fuck, sugar, here you go makin’ me the happiest man alive.”

  “I won’t tell anyone you said that,” I choke between tears.

  He chuckles again, and pulls back. He reaches into his jeans pocket, and pulls out a ring, no box, just a ring. Who needs a box anyway; real beauty should never be covered. Cade grips my hand, sliding it onto my finger. Perfect fit. I meet his gaze, and for a long moment, we just lock eyes. Happy. Content. That’s what we are right now. He picked up my pieces and put me back together, even when I thought no glue would hold. Turns out Cade was my glue, and in a sense, I think I am his.

  “Well, sugar,” he murmurs. “You sure made it difficult to save you, but you know, I got there in the end.”

  I smile, and nestle in closer to him. “You know why? I didn’t want to be saved before, but with you, that all changed. For once, I wanted to see what was on the other side.”

  “And was it worth steppin’ over the line?”

  I pull back, grip his face, press my lips down over his and kiss deeply. He responds, kissing me with everything he has. When he pulls back, I tangle both my hands into his hair and say, “Oh, hell yeah!” And I mean it, with every part that is me.

  I mean it because the battle with Cade has changed my world.

  I mean it because fighting to find love was so much more rewarding than fighting to survive.

  I mean it because my whole world was in tatters, but little by little, Cade has helped me put it back together again.

  Finally, I believed that I was good enough to be saved.

  And who knew he would be the one to save me.

  That’s life for you – you never know which way it’s going to go – you just have to trust it.

  ~*ABOUT AUTHOR*~

  Heya!! My name is Bella, I'm a new Aussie author and I am as crazy as they come. I'm playful, friendly and always up for a chat so stop on by x

  SAVING DALLAS

  By Kim Jones

  Copyright© 2013 Kim Jones

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  ABOUT AUTHOR

  DEDICATION

  To my grandmother, for always believing in me.

  Everything good in me, I got from you in some way; you wonderfully kind woman-my grandmother-Gloria Mae
.

  Chapter 1

  Sitting alone in a bar, throwing back shots of Jack was not how I pictured my Saturday night. I had managed to wedge myself into a corner of the patio bar where I was shielded by the drop door that led to the bartender's area. My intentions were to get drunk, then make myself available to the first guy who could show me a good time with no strings attached. I was in a three-month slump and was ready to come out of hiding.

  My ego had recently been crushed by my previous boyfriend whom, I thought was in love with me -- not that the feeling was mutual, but I thought it ensured his devotion to only me. He was perfect -- great body, good job, fast car – and he was a machine in the bedroom. Come to find out, I was not the only woman under his spell. Catching that skanky bitch from Arby's in his bed, wearing nothing but a smile informed me of everything that I needed to know. I was replaceable.

  Being replaced by a five when you are nothing short of a ten can do some major damage to a girl like me. I'm used to getting what I want.

  Being five foot four with a body most people only dream of, can get you a lot when it comes to men. Not to mention my long, silky brown locks, my perfect teeth, and a smile that would make the devil himself bow down.

  But all of the charm, looks, and money were not enough for Jeff. No, he had to go fuck it up with a fast food worker who drove a Honda.

  So for the past three months, I have been sulking, crying, feeling sorry for myself, and praying that a damsel-in-distress moment would come along so Jeff would feel the need to come running to protect and take care of me. It didn't happen. This was the real world, and Jeff was a prick, and I had stooped low enough to come to The Country Tavern to get laid by some lucky bastard.

  The urge to pee hit me, and I was grateful for the change of scenery as I motioned to the bartender that I would be back and I came out of my pseudo-hiding spot. The bar had filled up, and the shots had definitely caught up to me. I put on my seductive face and made my way to the restrooms inside the bar. Passing the pool tables and the main bar, I scanned the crowd to look for any potentials, but none of these faces could compare to Jeff's. Scolding myself, I went into the bathroom and did my business.

  On my way out, I paused and looked in the mirror at the lovely creature standing before me. "You can do this Dallas," I told myself. I straightened my black Dior minidress, pushed my long soft curls to the front of my shoulders so they fell over my breasts, and flashed myself a smile before sauntering out of the bathroom to accomplish my goal.

  I headed back to the patio bar only to find my corner taken by a bunch of bikers. Great. Just fucking great. I pushed my way past them, ignoring the lewd comments, and asked the bartender for a Jack and Sprite. He gave me a small apologetic smile. "This one is on me gorgeous," he said as he passed over my drink.

  "Thanks," I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Turning to face the crowd, I realized my chances of getting laid were slim to none if I continued to be surrounded by intimidating bikers, so I strolled over to the opposite side of the bar.

  "Hello ma'am."

  I turned to see the face of an attractive male sporting a cowboy hat and Wranglers that did amazing things for his package. "Well hello yourself," I replied with my best fuck me smile.

  "I must say that you have to be the prettiest thing I’ve seen in here all night," he said with a southern drawl that had me smiling even wider.

  "I was wondering if anyone would notice, or if I was just going to have to drink alone tonight." I could tell he was taking in the sight of my perky D cups as he took my drink, sat it on the bar, and grabbed my hand to lead me onto the dance floor. Dancing with a cowboy does something to a girl. Maybe it’s the way they hold you, or the way you feel respected and appreciated. Whatever that feeling is that you get, I didn't have it. This apparently was not a real cowboy. He was offbeat, drunk off his ass, and had hands that wandered over everything except for my waist.

  "Whoa, cowboy," I said as we both nearly tripped over several stray bar stools. What the fuck was up with this guy?

  "What’s the matter baby? You don't like my dancing?" He was laughing at someone over my shoulder. I turned to see a group of guys motioning for him to slap my ass and acting like a bunch of drunken frat boys, which they probably were.

  Now, there are several things that really piss me off, but at the top of the list is being the butt of a joke. Who the fuck did they think they were? I pushed the prick posing as a cowboy harshly – he didn’t even budge.

  "Hang on baby, the song ain't even over," he said, moving his hand over my ass.

  "Oh, it’s over. Get your hands off of me." Angrily, I pushed him again, only to be rewarded with an ass slap. That did it. "Get your fucking hands off of me!" I yelled, pushing his shoulders as hard as I could.

  Three things happened next. One: I was flat on my ass, seeing stars as my head bounced off the wooden deck. Two: The massive creature that landed on top of me was being dragged out the side door, along with his shithead friends, by guys in leather vests with reapers on the back. Three: I was looking into the bluest eyes that I had ever seen, and they belonged to a face that instantly made my panties wet. "You okay, babe?" asked a voice should belong to a fucking movie star. I closed my eyes, trying to ease the pounding in my head and gather my thoughts. What the fuck happened? Who is this beautiful creature leaning over me? Had my damsel in distress moment finally arrived? Was my dress over my waist, showing my goodies to everyone in the bar?

  Strong arms grabbed me and hauled me to my feet. Without even opening my eyes, I knew by the feel of his shoulders he had the sexiest arms that had ever held me. I opened my eyes and held back a gasp. He was perfect. His hair was dirty blonde and cut short. His chest was strong and big. The white thermal he wore under a leather vest, defined his muscles all the way down to his waist. His jeans were slightly torn giving me a view of his leg that let me know this guy worked out -- hard. My gaze slowly moved back up his body, stopping momentarily on his crotch, making me have thoughts of him in my mouth. My eyes finally made it to his face. That face. Strong jaw-line, light blonde stubble, lips that screamed "kiss me," and eyes that were the color of the ocean.

  "You like what you see?" he asked while adjusting my dress and keeping a firm hold on my waist. His hands on my body had me clenching my legs together trying to find a release for my aching center. He asked me a question. What the hell was it again?

  "I'm fine." I replied all breathy like some fucking virgin teenager getting ready to screw the high school quarter back. Get your shit together, Dallas.

  His face held a smirk as his eyes laughed at me -- taunting me. He was sex in leather, and I didn't care if the way I looked at him made me look like a complete fool, or if he was getting pleasure out of me looking at him like I could take him right here in the bar.

  "Well I can see that, but how is your head feeling?" he asked still smirking at me. Arrogant asshole. I managed to find my voice and inner bitch. Fueled by too much alcohol, a shitty night, and the fact that I would be going home alone -- again -- un-fucked. I responded, "It’s fine. Thanks for your help, but I believe I can manage from now on without the help of you and your goon squad." I looked around to see a few guys standing guard behind him, but the rest had disappeared. Thankfully, the crowd had gotten over the drama and was back to drinking and having a good time; ignoring us completely.

  Surprising me, he laughed. Damn he has a great laugh. "I'm glad you are feeling better. My goon squad and I will be at the bar if you need anything. Don't worry, your boyfriend still has a few teeth left and I'm sure tomorrow morning he will be calling to beg for your forgiveness."

  "He's not my boyfriend." Why was I getting so defensive?

  “Could have fooled me, or do you normally let strangers fondle you in public? If so, maybe me and my goon squad, as you call them, can get in on the action." He was laughing at me. This sexy beast towering over me was making an ass out of me.

  "For your information, I did not allow him to
do anything. I asked him to stop several times. If I had plans to get fondled tonight by someone, he would definitely not live up to my standards." Liar.

  "So, do I live up to your standards? Miss…?"

  "Dallas, my name is Dallas, and no, you do not. Biker trash isn't on my to-do list tonight."

  "Dallas, what an interesting name you have. And I could have sworn the way you were looking at me all "fuck me" like, that I was most definitely on your “to-do” list, as you say."

  Shit. I was at a loss for words. Probably because his hands were still securely on each side of my waist and the throbbing between my legs had only intensified over the past few minutes. Instead of coming back with a comment that would leave him shocked and wanting more, I did something that I never do. I walked away. Well, I tried to walk away. I removed his hands, which let go of me easily causing disappointment to my groin area, and turned around to see the floor coming up to my face before those big strong arms were around me again.

  "Slow down babe. I think you might have a mild concussion."

  That’s all it took. I was putty in his arms. I had prayed for a damsel-in-distress moment, and God had given it to me. It wasn't Jeff, but it was something so much better. Who cares that he rode a motorcycle, and was probably working as a mechanic while out on parole? I came here for something and I was going to get it, and if this biker bad boy wanted to give it to me I would gladly take it and regret it tomorrow.

  The pounding in my head was loud. And hurt -- a lot. Mixed with the laughter and loud music, it was too much.

  "I think I need some fresh air," I said barely audible. Somehow, my knight in shining leather heard me, and led me out the same door he had tossed the guys out of only minutes before. I silently prayed they were gone. No such luck.