It’s unfair. The years haven’t changed him at all. He might have gone grey, but his figure’s the same as it always was, his muscles still firm, his stomach like a washboard. It looks like I’ve let myself go, but I haven’t. It’s just these useless female hormones causing changes I didn’t sign up for.
I’m scared I’m going to lose my man. And that there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I go to the bathroom, take out the hair dye I bought earlier, and start to apply it on the roots. Why does grey on a man make them look distinguished, while on a woman it shows their age? Life’s so unfair. I check the instructions as it’s a new brand, and see I’ve got to wait half an hour.
When was the last time he took me on the back of his bike? Christ, I can’t remember. Will he leave me?
Why the hell did I let myself think that? I’ve been with him for thirty-six years, I’d had his children. Now they’ve grown and left home, is my job done? Have I out served my purpose?
For Christ’s sake, Moira. Stop over-thinking things. Tonight may be the first time I’ve allowed such thoughts to surface, but they’ve been bubbling around for a while.
Nowadays I don’t put in many appearances at the clubhouse where once I used to be a fixture. Hell no longer has an old lady he’d like to show off. He’d much rather be seen with one of the attractive hangarounds on his arm, proof of his virility. Well, it seems he can no longer get it up for me. It’s been so long, I barely remember what his cock feels like.
In an action more violent than it needs to be, I grab a magazine, and go sit on the couch, checking the time. Fifteen more minutes. I turn the pages. Christ. Story after story of cheating men. Seems it’s not just me that’s in this situation. Ah, here’s an article about how to keep your man interested. I give up reading halfway. How can you be sexy and alluring in a body that’s determined to be the opposite? It’s okay to suggest sexy underwear, but when the clothes come off, it’s to reveal stretch marks and sagging skin.
If there was a way to turn back the clock, I’d do it.
I shower, wash the dye out, then dry my hair, not bothering to style it. I pull on my comfy pyjamas and settle in front of the TV. Flicking through the channels, there’s nothing that catches my attention. Maybe I’ll read. Having left my reading glasses in the bathroom when I’d checked instructions about washing out the dye, I get up to go and retrieve them. Reaching the bathroom, I do a quick pee, then return to the sofa, only then realising that I’d forgotten what I’d gone to fetch.
Rolling my eyes, I suspect if I go to fetch my glasses again, I’ll probably only return with something different. I put away my book, and rest my head back on the chair.
What was it Hell had been talking about earlier? Oh, yeah. That poor kid from Tucson. If she ends up coming here, I’ll do everything I can to help her. I know only too well what it’s like to be forced to do something against your will. I, too, had my virginity stolen. Her situation brings it all back. I let my mind drift, dredging up memories.
“Look!”
“What?”
“Oh, my. He’s a real hunk.”
“Who you looking at? Oh.” My eyes alight on a man who’s just come out of a club and is getting on his bike. Wow. If I was going to give him a score he’d easily be a ten, if not an eleven or twelve. He’s got darkish, curly, thick hair that reaches his shoulders, he’s moving so smoothly he seems to glide, strong, long steps. He’s tall, slim but muscular.
“He’s one of those bikers. From that new gang. The one everyone’s talking about,” Jeannie hisses. “Let’s go and say hi.”
“Let’s not,” I toss back. But it’s like Jeannie’s on a mission. To my horror, the biker’s looking straight at us. He’s lighting a cigarette and seems to be waiting.
“Ladies,” he calls out, as we approach. Nerves make me giggle. Up close I can see he might be young, but he’s all man. He’s got a swagger and confidence about him. I slip myself behind Jeannie and let her do the talking. Jeannie’s asking about parties at their clubhouse, it sounds terrifying to me. She can go if she wants. Just leave me out of it. Hey. What’s she doing?
As the biker pulls away, I tug the arm of the person I thought was my friend in horror. “You gave him my number?”
Unrepentant she replies, “I gave him both of ours. That way one of us might be home when he calls.”
“He won’t call,” I tell her optimistically. “And if he does, you’re going to any party they hold alone.” I’ve been her wingman before, but not at a gathering of leather-clad bikers…
Jeannie. As I emerge from my memory, I realise it’s been a while since I’ve spoken to her. I ought to make more of an effort to stay in touch, though, to be honest, she still spends most of her time at the clubhouse, while I hide away at home. Yes, hide. Not wanting to be confronted with the temptation placed in front of my man there. Not wanting to face it head-on. Though lately, secreting myself away, pretending nothing’s changed, isn’t working as well as it used to.
Though years have passed since we first met the handsome biker on his bike, I still put some of the blame on Jeannie. If she hadn’t given my number away, my life would have been very different, and things wouldn’t have happened the way that they did. Of course, it’s impossible to imagine how it would have turned out instead. But she had.
Using the information Jeannie had so helpfully supplied, Hell had indeed called me. Of course he wasn’t named Hellfire then, hadn’t yet got his road name. He’d been a plain and simple Carter. Yeah. He’d called me, not Jeannie, turns out it wasn’t her he was interested in. Something I could never understand. And it wasn’t a party he’d invited me to, instead he asked me to go for a ride on the back of his bike. In my naivety then, I had no idea what that meant to a biker like him.
Carter had turned up at my door, helmet in hand, while he wasn’t wearing one himself. It was the one time I was grateful I had parents who didn’t give a damn, Dad normally lost in an alcoholic fugue, with Mom not far behind. They didn’t seem to find anything odd in a biker ringing the doorbell.
I’d been nervous. Of going somewhere with a man I didn’t know, and on transport I’d never been on. But Hell, well, from the start he was dominant, knew what he wanted. He swept me away, and before I could have second thoughts, I was climbing on behind him, obeying his instructions, putting my hands around his waist. It wasn’t long before I knew I could become addicted to this, the most exciting thing I’d ever done. It was the feeling of freedom, seeing the scenery as if I was part of it, smelling the air. So much better than being trapped in a car.
Hell rode confidently, even then. Not for one moment did I have concerns about him losing control and crashing. His warm leather-clad body encircled in my arms, the power seemed to emanate from him, installing a confidence in me.
I’d felt alive. For the first time in my life. I felt me. As if in covering those miles took me on an internal journey. I hadn’t wanted it to end.
After a while he pulled into a little-used picnic spot. When he took my hand and led me away from the bike, I suddenly became nervous. I’d been on dates with boys, of course I had. But Hell wasn’t a boy, he was all man. He might want to go further than I’d been before.
Jeannie wasn’t a virgin, but unlike her, I’d never seen my virginity as a burden or something I felt in a rush to lose. It was partly down to the casualness of her relationships with the opposite sex, that had made me vow, I wanted my first time to mean something. And I didn’t want it to be over a picnic bench with a virtual stranger.
Out of sight of the road, Hell stopped, pulled me around to face him. As I looked up, I saw his eyes flaring, and when he pulled me against his body as he lowered his lips to mine, I felt a hardness against me.
I’d jumped back.
“Carter. I…”
He turns away sharply. I’ve made him angry, I know I have. But when he swings back, he’s wearing a lopsided grin. He takes a step toward me, I stand my ground as he shakes his head. “Moira
, I’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “But you’re to blame. Felt too fucking good with you on the back of my bike. Ain’t gonna treat you like a whore, babe. You deserve better than that. We’ll take this slow. Slow as you want. You’ll let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know why I’m apologising.
“Babe. You’re young. You’ve not done this before, have you?”
Feeling more confident, I ask. “What gave it away?”
“Babe.” He grows serious, his brow creased as though thinking. “Bitch feels a hard cock against her, if she wants it, she doesn’t pull away.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him again.
“Hey, don’t fucking apologise. To anyone, okay? You choose me when you’re ready? I’ll be over the fucking moon. When it’s time, you’ll know.”
Now it’s me who closes the distance between us. Raising my hand, I place it against his cheek. He’s made me confident, made me trust he won’t be taking what I’m not offering. “You could kiss me.”
“Fuckin’ right I could,” he chuckles. “And I will. Just ignore… him… if it seems he wants to play. I’ve got him under control, okay?”
I smirk, finding it funny he’s talking about his dick as though it’s a separate entity. Then I stop thinking about anything at all and just start feeling as he lowers his head and his mouth touches mine.
He might have said we weren’t going to be having sex, but this kiss is almost criminal. His tongue probes, his teeth nip, my mouth opens. Every part of me starts to tingle as he explores and ravishes. That he knows what he’s doing is certain. I’d heard Jeannie talking about boys who’d made her wet, but had never understood she’d meant it literally until my own panties feel sticky in my jeans. I’d be embarrassed were it not that I was fighting to prevent myself from rubbing against him.
He pulls back, I want more. Now it’s me who goes on a hesitant attack, the growl in his throat tells me that’s what he’d wanted.
Men like him should come with a warning.
When we finally part, my lips are swollen, my face burns. He pulls my head onto his shoulder, and gently cradles me with his huge hand. “Babe, love your taste, love the smell of you. If we don’t do something else, gonna forget my promise to you. Let’s walk.”
It wouldn’t have taken much for me to give in. At the time I was pleased that he hadn’t pressured me. Later, well, that was another story. We’d walked, talked about everything and nothing. He’d told me some of his dreams, explained his father was the president of the club he was in, had started it along with some of his friends. Despite the familial relationship, Carter wasn’t having anything handed to him on a plate, having to start at the bottom as a prospect. He’d had me laughing with some of the jobs he was asked to do, or at least those he could discuss. Other things he wouldn’t talk about, but that was fine with me. I simply enjoyed listening to his deep, sexy voice.
When he asked me what I wanted from life, I came up with a long list that young girls often have. I wanted to travel. See other states. Other countries. No real idea how I’d be able to afford it, but not having had the best home life myself nor attending much to my education, I was thinking of perhaps at least qualifying as a nanny, and getting a job with a rich family.
He listened as if my dreams were perfectly achievable, offering no judgement at all. It was one of the best afternoons of my life.
I went home with stars in my eyes and dreams filling my head of my handsome biker.
Chapter Four
Jayden
“Thank you very much!” I round on my sister as she comes in with Slick. For now they’re sharing the suite opposite mine. We used to live off the compound in a nice house, but now we’re cramped in this small building. I’ve no idea of the reason why we moved, I wasn’t included in the decision.
Like I hadn’t been involved in them turning up tonight and spoiling the first date of my life.
“Why did you help me get dressed up and ready? You knew it was a sham all along.” After I’ve thrown that at Ella, I turn to Slick, the man who’s been like a father to me. It’s times like these I wish he hadn’t stepped into the role.
“Jayden,” Slick starts, his hand smoothing over his bald head. “Wanted to make sure you were safe.”
I feel like stomping my foot, but manage not to. “I was with Paladin! How could I be safer than that? If you’re talking about my fucking virtue—which I haven’t got by the way—Paladin wouldn’t make one wrong move. He respects his patch too much to risk losing it. And me.” I add the last as an afterthought. But it’s true. I know Paladin would do everything by the book.
Ella’s blanched at my comment about my lack of innocence. I almost want to apologise but I don’t. I lived it, had the therapy to learn to cope with it. For the most part, I’ve managed to put it behind me, but El, well, she can’t seem to lose the guilt that she’d been too wrapped up in herself at the time to do anything to prevent it. No matter how often I tell her I’d probably have done the same stupid things, even if she’d been around.
Yeah, I’ve put it behind me, as much as I can. The memories don’t overpower me anymore, but I still can’t quite shake them. The loss of control, the way my virginity was bought and stolen, as if I was no more than a piece of meat. I wasn’t valued as a person, just a body to abuse. What actually happened, men putting their hands, their cocks, where I didn’t want them, well, I’ve locked those memories in a box and have thrown away the key. It only opens occasionally in my nightmares. The only way to move forward is to try to forget what I’d gone through.
Paladin is safe. He’d never hurt me or force me to do something I didn’t want to. I’m certain of that. When I eventually come of age, he’ll give me the choice, let anything we might do be my decision. Which is why I’m so angry that Ella and Slick don’t trust him. My judgement tells me he’s a good man, my eyes do to. Since he brought me to the compound almost three years ago, I’m sure he’s remained true to his word and as far as I know, has stayed faithful. I know Slick would delight in telling me if he hadn’t. I can also tell he hasn’t betrayed me by the way Slick has grown to admire him.
I’d never admit it to Ella, but I’m scared deep inside. Afraid that the box holds things that would stop me moving forward, becoming a real woman. The idea of having time to get to know Paladin, not just as a friend, but as a man, has been comforting. Dating with no expectations. I could do that. But it was ruined. Take things slowly? Hell, if tonight was anything to go by, any slower and we’d be moving backward.
“Jayden,” Ella starts.
I’m still furious. I interrupt. “I’m sixteen, El. Nearly seventeen. Yet I’m not allowed to have any type of life. I’m kept captive on this fucking compound.”
“Don’t swear,” she says automatically, tempting me to give her the finger. Keep me among bikers, well, I’m going to pick up some stuff. “Jay, you go to school…”
“Yeah,” I huff. “Escorted there and back.”
Slick clearly doesn’t like the tone I’m using with Ella. Ella’s looking upset, and it’s making her old man annoyed. “Jayden,” he starts, sharply. “Don’t raise your voice with Ella. She’s pregnant.”
I snap my mouth closed to prevent the words escaping which would tell him we all know that. We’re reminded every day. If he could wrap her in cotton wool, he would.
“We’re just watching out for you, Jayden.” Ella’s soft voice sounds behind me.
I swing around. “Well you can stop. Think about the baby, not me. I’m not a young kid anymore.”
To my surprise, Slick agrees. “No, you’re not.” He pinches the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, and seems to have a silent conversation over my head with Ella. A suggestion, an answer. I sigh. Seems like I might be in for a lecture.
“Come sit down, Jayden.” Ella indicates the bed, the fight now leaving me, I go and sit on it. She seats herself by my side while Slick paces the room.
“Jayden, sweeth
eart. We didn’t explain why we moved back to the compound.”
“You did,” I contradict. “You said it was easier for Slick to be near his brothers. And that you wanted to be with the other old ladies. It was all for you.” My temper hasn’t abated as much as I thought. “You never think about me. What I wanted. The house wasn’t a prison like this place is.”
Slick moves so fast I rear back as suddenly he’s to my front, leaning over, his arms straight, palms on the bed either side of me. “It wasn’t for us, Jayden. Not for one minute. It was for you.”
For me? “I didn’t ask you to.” I can’t stop.
“Because we didn’t tell you the fuckin’ reason,” Slick shouts. “If you knew, you’d have been beggin’ us to bring you here.”
I try to push him away. It’s like he’s an unmovable object and doesn’t budge. “What the fuck do you mean?”
This time Ella doesn’t admonish me for swearing. With one hand and a gentle nudge she gets Slick to straighten up and at last stop crowding me. Then she half turns, pulls her leg onto the bed, bending her knee. “Jayden,” she starts gently. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but the club’s had word the Herreras might be looking to take you again.”
What? The wind now completely gone out of my sails, I bow my head, then shake it. In the back of my mind I can almost hear demons trying to escape the box. I swallow hard, fighting to keep those thoughts out of my head. The most terrifying thing that haunts me are wrapped up in the words Ella’s just spoken. That I could be taken and abused all over again. It takes a moment before I can even attempt to speak. “Why?” I clear my throat and start again. “Why? Why would they want me? The men who took me are dead. You told me that.” I look at Slick accusingly. Has he been lying to me all this time?
Satan's Devils MC Colorado Boxset 1 Books 1 - 3 Page 4