“No one lays claim to Insurgents’ territory.” Hawk glanced over at Ryder and gestured him forward.
Ryder swung his good leg and it landed in Tag’s belly and the man fell to his knees. Then the Insurgents descended on the four men who failed to show them the appropriate respect.
Boots stomped.
Fists punched.
Chains whipped.
Bones cracked.
Cries echoed.
Blood flowed.
At the end of it, the four men lay on the cold pavement beaten to a pulp, their patches sliced off their cuts. The outlaws weren’t sure which ones belonged to the fallen Twisted Kings, but the two they took bore the Twisted Kings’ logo.
Rock bent down low. “Your fuckin’ club no longer exists.”
Ryder helped Axe, Wheelie, Throttle and Smokey put the bikes on Throttle’s flatbed pickup. Ryder handed the patches over to Wheelie, who lifted his chin as he crammed them in his pockets; the patches would be burned and the bikes stripped down for spares or resold.
“What about the other fuckers? Are we going over there now?” Ryder asked.
Wheelie shook his head. “We decided at church to teach whoever walked into the bar tonight a lesson. If the other fucks continue to wear the rocker and act like a club, we’ll wipe them out.”
Nodding, Ryder inhaled deeply. He seriously doubted the others would be a problem, but if they were, he and his brothers would take care of them. They had to because the punks broke the rules and failed to see the Insurgents as the dominant controlling club in Colorado. The Insurgents had to make an example of the Twisted Kings to show that the outlaw club wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect in their territory. Wars started when clubs failed to follow territorial rules, as the Insurgents knew all too well, and those wars quickly escalated out of control and could go on for years, causing more agony and bloodshed than what was done that night.
Ryder swung his legs into the SUV and rested his head back. All he could think about on the drive back to the clubhouse was Savannah; he couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms.
He stretched out his legs and stared out the window. Shades of trees appeared like smudges in the landscape as darkness yawned behind them.
Soon he’d be home.
Chapter Eighteen
Savannah peeked out the curtain, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as they strained to see if someone was out there past the trees watching her. Nothing.
“Are you looking for Ryder?” Timmy asked.
She glanced behind her and saw Timmy fitting a piece into a puzzle. “Yes, but he’s not back yet.”
“How come?”
“He said he may be late. How’s your puzzle coming along?” The curtain fell from her hand, and she walked over to where Timmy sat on the floor, his elbows propped on his knees.
“It’s going good.” He picked up another piece and tried to fit it in a space that was a tad bit too small.
As Savannah watched him, her nerves jumped at every sound in the cabin; she never noticed before how much noise a house could make. She’d seen the man from the tree-lighting night when she and Timmy went into town to see the Christmas displays in the windows on Main Street. She didn’t have the heart to ask Ryder to do yet another holiday outing with them, especially since she knew he wasn’t a fan of the yuletide season.
It’d been about thirty minutes before she’d had a feeling that someone was watching her. Sure enough, she’d glanced behind her shoulder and that man was there again, his deep-set eyes boring into her. Savannah had prodded Timmy along, making sure to stay with the large crowd that walked from window to window, and when they’d finished, she literally dragged poor Timmy to the SUV and threw him in.
Not wanting to go home quite yet, Savannah had driven to Ruthie’s for a snack, and fear curdled in her stomach when she saw his two sharp eyes staring at her out of the darkness. He had continued to follow them, at least she thought it had been him. Too petrified to turn onto roads that weren’t familiar, Savannah drove back to the house using the only route she knew, and then the car that she’d thought was his drove right past the road.
But if it was him, now he knows the road. All he has to do is come back and take it and it’ll lead right to us. A fit of barking erupted from Brutus, and Savannah cried out and jumped up from the floor.
Timmy laughed. Brutus kept barking. Savannah’s heart pumped against her throat.
“Brutus! Calm down,” she said.
“I think he wants to go outside,” Timmy said, pointing at the dog, who stood by the front door with his ears erect and his body stiff.
Shit! Wait … Ryder has guns coming out of his ass. He told me where the bullets are. She folded her arms against her chest. “Timmy, don’t move. I’ll be right back. Don’t let Brutus out or anything, okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Timmy rolled around on the floor.
“Please promise me you won’t move.”
“I promise, Mommy.”
Savannah dashed to the master bedroom and retrieved four bullets, then she ran into the workshop and took a rifle down off the wall. Her father had taught all his children how to shoot, and she quietly thanked him for that as she loaded the gun. Hurrying back into the family room, Savannah slowly walked toward the front door, which Brutus was now scratching frantically.
“He needs to go to the bathroom, Mommy.”
Terror raced through her veins as she crept on weakened legs toward the door.
“Stay where you are,” she said to Timmy. She put her clammy hand on the knob and held the rifle tight in her other one. Again, she looked outside through the peephole, and once again, nothing but darkness.
Slowly, she turned the knob as Brutus went wild beside her. When it was opened just enough, Brutus darted out, his sharp barks fading as he disappeared into the night. She slammed the door and locked the deadbolt, then sagged against it while gulping in breaths of air.
“Where did Brutus go, Mommy?”
“I don’t know.” Maybe he heard a deer or something. She glanced down at her phone: 12:00 a.m. Where are you, Ryder? She’d texted him a few times and never received a reply, but she knew he was out on “club business”—whatever that meant—and that’s all he would say about his clandestine outing.
“When’s Brutus coming back?” Timmy lay on his back on the floor, yawning.
“When he’s ready.” She put the gun down near the door then shuffled over to Timmy. “Come on, honey, lie down on the couch. It’s too cold on the floor.” If she wasn’t scared out of her mind, she’d have taken him to his room and tucked him in bed, but she didn’t want Timmy to be away from her.
Then the doorknob jiggled. Timmy closed his eyes, and Savannah swallowed down breaths to keep from crying out. Tiptoeing across the floor, her gaze stayed fixed on the door, and as she reached for the rifle, the door flew open. A blast of icy air froze her to the spot, and she let out a blood curdling scream.
“Mommy!” Timmy leapt up from the couch and she watched him, as if in slow motion, scamper toward her.
She tried to tell him not to come near—to run away, but she couldn’t speak. All Savannah could do was watch her son come closer and closer to the unimaginable.
“What the fuck’s wrong?”
Ryder! Oh God, thank you!
He wrapped an arm around her and crushed Timmy to him with the other as Brutus darted into the house barking excitedly. Ryder’s warm kisses opened the torrent of tears, and she rested her head in the crook of his neck and sobbed in relief.
“What the hell’s going on around here?” he murmured into her ear, but she couldn’t answer him. He guided Savannah and Timmy to the couch and sat down, each of them collapsing against him.
“Mommy … what’s wrong?” Timmy’s hand stroked her face. “Why’s Mommy crying?” he asked Ryder.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Did something bad happen while I was gone?”
Through her tears she saw Timmy scrunch up his face then shake
his head.
“Darlin’? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Ryder handed her a wad of tissues, and she wiped her cheeks and blew her nose.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just got freaked out, that’s all.” She crumpled the tissues in her fist.
“About what?”
“Later,” she whispered, her gaze drifting to Timmy.
“Okay.”
For a long time the three of them sat on the couch, she and Timmy snuggled on each side of Ryder, his arms wrapped around them like a security blanket. Savannah felt nice and warm next to him … like sitting in front of a wood-burning fire on a frosty morning. “Mommy and me went to see the elves,” Timmy said, breaking the silence.
“That’s right. How’d you like the windows?” Ryder asked.
As she listened to Ryder talk with Timmy about the boy’s night, she craned her neck and kissed him quickly on his jaw. Never once had she heard Bret ask Timmy anything about what the boy liked, let alone carry on a conversation with him. Ryder’s everything Bret isn’t. I can’t believe that I’m giving my heart to a man I just met, yet it seems like I’ve known him forever.
“Feel better now?” Ryder kissed the top of her head.
“Yes. Sorry for the meltdown.”
“Don’t be.” Another soft kiss on her head.
Savannah pulled at Timmy’s pajama bottoms. “It’s way past your bedtime, sweetie.” Yawning, he nodded.
“Let’s go,” she said softly.
“Can Ryder put me to bed tonight, Mommy?”
Her eyes looked to the biker and found a big smile spread across his face. “Yes, honey.” She scooted away from them and gave Timmy a goodnight kiss, and then watched as her son flung his arms around Ryder’s neck and rested his tired head on his broad shoulders. In all of Timmy’s six years, his own father had never put him to bed.
Savannah walked over to the door and picked up the rifle, shoving the bullets into the pocket of her robe, and then placed the gun back on the wall in the workshop. On the way to the master bedroom, she heard Ryder’s deep voice reading one of Timmy’s favorite bedtime stories, and a surge of desire rushed through her for this gruff, yet gentle, man. She walked away, and after putting the bullets back in their place, she went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate.
Resting her hands against the sink while waiting for the milk to boil, Savannah didn’t hear Ryder’s footsteps until he was right behind her and he snaked an arm around her waist.
“Thanks for putting Timmy to bed,” she said softly.
“No worries. He was out like a light after I read the second page.”
His breath was hot against the curve of her neck. Pressed up against her back the way he was left no space between them.
“I couldn’t wait to get back,” he said hoarsely. “What happened to spook you like that?” he asked while pushing her hair over her shoulder, and his tongue danced over the nape of her neck.
Arousal followed where he touched, and she didn’t want to think about the man and how scared she’d been. “Just jittery without you, plus Brutus kinda went crazy,” she murmured, reclining against him. She’d tell him the next day, because at that moment, Savannah only wanted to get lost in the wonderful feelings skittering through her.
“Brutus can get that way.” Soft kisses grazed her upper back. Ryder jammed his thigh between her legs and, even through his jeans, his dick was a bar of steel searing itself onto her ass. Savannah inhaled deeply, and it was all Ryder: leather, whiskey, and heated male. Tilting her head back, she nestled in that scent, in his raw lust. He moved his mouth down her neck, alternately kissing and biting a trail to her shoulder. She moaned and her knees buckled a bit, but he held her tightly while his delicious mouth and tongue blazed a trail over her flesh.
“Ryder,” she murmured.
“Fuck, baby, I can’t keep my hands off you.” His voice sounded thick.
The milk bubbled and hissed as it overflowed onto the burner, and she jerked away and rushed to the stove.
“Dammit … I burned the milk,” she said, pouring it into the sink.
“That’s okay, darlin’, I’d rather spend the time loving you than sipping hot chocolate.” Savannah dropped the pan in the sink when Ryder swung her around and crushed his mouth on hers. For a long pause everything stopped around her except for the delicious surges of aroused desire pushing through her as their tongues tangled and their lips ground.
“I need to be with you,” he said.
“Me too. Let’s go to my room just in case Timmy wakes up, he can find me.”
Ryder didn’t let go of her once during their short trip from the kitchen to her room, and desire swirled around inside her, heightening her senses until she was downright giddy by the time she closed and locked the bedroom door.
Holding Savannah’s hand tightly, he led her to the bed, and his body heat infused into hers through their connected palms, sending shivers of anticipation racing down her spine. Breaking away from her, Ryder perched on the edge of the bed and stared at her with the same intensity as when they’d first met, but unlike those times before, she met his eyes straight on, her body humming with arousal.
He gestured her to step back as his gaze roamed over her, lingering on her hips, her breasts, and then her face. “Take your clothes off for me, darlin’.”
The rasp in his voice and the simplicity of his request went straight to her core, and she gave him her best seductive smile while slowly untying the sash around her robe. Underneath, she had on the sexy pair of red satin boxer pajamas with lace piping that she’d bought in the intimate apparel shop on West Fir Avenue. Savannah had fallen in love with it, and she had a pretty good idea that Ryder would love the look. The hunger in his eyes from the second she slipped the tight-fitting robe down her arms told her she was right.
Never taking her gaze off him, she unbuttoned her top, pausing between each button, and the only break in her stare came when she whirled around and swayed her hips as her top fell down on the floor. The sharp intake of Ryder’s breath urged her on, and she turned back around—arms crossed over her chest—and locked eyes with him.
“Fuck, baby,” he said hoarsely.
With one arm still covering her breasts, Savannah grasped the waistband of her boxers with her other hand and pushed it down. Wiggling as the silky fabric slid down her smooth legs, she flung the garment off her ankles with the flick of one foot. Her hand flew over her tingling sex, and she inched slowly toward him, her gaze fixed on his face.
“Damn you’re sexy, woman,” he said in a low voice.
When Savannah came closer to the bed, Ryder reached out and grabbed her, and she fell into his arms, clutching him tight. Then fingers were on her everywhere at once, dancing over her nipples, on her belly, above her mound, tickling her inner thighs, and pressing against her anus. Their mouths fused as she melted into him, and when she leaned against his chest, Ryder fell back onto the mattress. For a long time she lost herself in the sensations of their kiss until his hand glided in between them, and she felt his fingers on her mound. All her attention shifted to the digit swirling around her clit and the other ones inching their way into her slick heat.
“You’re so damn wet for me,” he said.
“You have a way of doing that to me.” Her body trembled from his well-placed teasing fingers, and her hips rocked with a desperate desire for him.
Two digits pushed inside her and she moaned as her senses, her body, her arousal converged into a bonfire of indescribable pleasure. Writhing on top of him, the tension grew inside Savannah as she tugged at Ryder’s belt in a desperate attempt to get at his gorgeous dick, but a shattering orgasm short-circuited her efforts. She stuffed her fist in her mouth to muffle her screams as her climax exploded; it was like tangling up a bunch of Christmas lights inside her, then blowing a fuse.
Ryder’s hands skimmed over her ass, her hips, and her back as she panted and jerked from the subsiding eruption. He shifted under her and let out a low grunt, a
nd reality pushed away the orgasmic afterglow.
Lifting up, Savannah scanned the grimace of pain in his face. “You’re not comfortable,” she said as she gestured to him to sit up.
“It’s okay,” he said in a low voice.
“It’s not. I want you to enjoy yourself too.” She unbuttoned his shirt, and after the last button, she pulled his shirt wide open and kissed his chest. Gliding her hands down, her fingers found his belt, and she fumbled with it until it fell free.
“Savannah, you don’t have to—”
“Shh,” she said, placing her lips against his. “Relax.” Her nimble fingers grasped the zipper and pulled it down, and then curled around his hard dick; it was warm and smooth with a bit of wetness on the tip of its crown.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
When Savannah started to pull his jeans down, Ryder straightened up and gently pushed her away. Without saying a word, she sat up then hooked her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
“Please don’t shut me out. I want both of us to enjoy each other tonight, not just you pleasuring me.”
The muscles on his face tightened as his brows pulled in, and his gaze ping-ponged around the room. Savannah didn’t say anything, she just waited for the conflict inside him to settle, hoping that Ryder would let her share this part of him.
After what seemed like hours, he nodded, his face still taut, and she moved away while he stood up and let his pants drop. Savannah thought she’d be prepared for it, but she wasn’t, and a wave of sadness for him coursed through her, but she couldn’t let him see it, or what they had between them would be forever altered.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she reached out and touched the mechanical leg. “Does it hurt?” she whispered.
“Now it does. The end of the day’s a killer,” he replied in a low voice.
“Do you need me to get anything for you from your room?”
“My crutches and the ointment in the top drawer of the nightstand would be great.”
“Okay,” she said numbly, picking up her robe from the floor. As she shuffled out of the room, he called out to her and she looked over her shoulder.
Christmas Wish Page 18