Resurfaced Passion (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 6)

by V. Theia

  He was too accustomed to sitting in the diner and watching her like a dog would gaze at a bone it salivated over.

  Jed cut through his musings. “You look different, son. Relaxed, I’d say.”

  That didn’t say much for Reaper’s usual demeanor. He rose a brow. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” laughed the old man. He liked Jed, always had from day one. The guy must be pushing middle seventies and had bad arthritis now in one hand so he couldn’t ride his sweet hog anymore, but he still had a hard body, still wore his biker clothes, still rocked up most days and did his part around the club. So did his old lady, Helen, another one Reaper liked. Not that he was demonstrative in that liking, but he’d never see any harm come to the older couple, nor would any member worth their patch.

  The club protected their own, old and new.

  Reaper might have joined the club for his own reasons back when, but somewhere along the way, he’d become ingrained in the Renegade Souls MC and though he knew there might be a day he’d have to walk away, he’d do it, without a moment’s notice.

  He liked the place.

  He liked the people.

  He liked the brotherhood of it.

  Some days that brotherhood had been the only thing stopping Reaper crawling out of his own skin.

  “How’s that girl of yours?” Jed asked. The old goat didn’t miss a trick, did he? He gossiped worse than Snake and Z-girl did.

  Reaper smirked and dipped his head over his cup of coffee.

  “She’s good, tired this morning.” He didn’t give details, didn’t need to, when Jed barked a hoarse laugh and knocked his silver rings on top of the bar.

  “I’m sure you’ll fix that, son.”

  Yeah, he would.

  The rest of the day, while he worked, he had one of the boys commenting on the state of his face, mainly because of the smile he wore.

  It freaked them all out.

  “Look, I don’t like it, okay? This fucker is smiling, how do we know he doesn’t have dynamite stuck up his ass ready to blow us up?” Dramatic as always, Snake waved the socket wrench.

  Reaper ignored him and got on with fixing the shit he was fixing down on the shop floor.

  “We know you like things up your ass, my man,” Grinder piped in. “But I don’t think any bastard would smile with dynamite between their cheeks, get me?”

  “He got laid.” Capone added his cents worth.

  “Boy definitely wet his dick.” Added Preacher.

  These theories went on for a while.

  It continued well into the afternoon and Reaper didn’t give them anything back. He just carried on with his work. And smiled to himself.

  It would be a couple more hours yet and the boys would get their answer. Not from Reaper, but from Paige walking through the doors of the MC and blowing Reaper’s mind to piss around her and declare she was off fucking limits to all the eyes skimming over her pink hair and banging body.

  Her walk was tentative, almost as if she were regretting coming to the MC with Snake’s wife, who Reaper barely noticed.

  His eyes were glued to Paige, sure he was seeing things.

  She’d never come here. Not once.

  “Oh, this shit should be good.” Grinder laughed; his own leather clad wife was perched on his lap having arrived back in town an hour ago from whatever larceny she’d been doing.

  The heavily pregnant woman smiled at Reaper and headed over to the common area where Snake had already jumped up to do whatever bidding Winter wanted. That guy was so pussy whipped … but then, who the fuck was Reaper to talk when he about fell off his stool to get across to Paige.

  He towered over her, breathed her in, just sank her scent deep into his lungs, his fingers itching to get beneath her clothes.

  She’d changed out of her peach uniform, now wearing the skinniest pair of blue jeans painted on her long legs with booties on her feet and a decorative, high waist black leather jacket. Her hair was coiled down her back and she looked like a fucking rocker chick.

  His mouth flooded with water. Need almost broke him in two.

  She was so fucking lovely, so delicious and bitable, he had no decent thoughts in those first few minutes of his heart recalibrating to its normal steady rhythm.

  “Hi.” She smiled, twisting her fingers together. Reaper noticed everything about her, nothing was left out, not the way her lashes lowered, nor the way she licked her lower lip and she rocked on her heels pushing her hips forward. “I hope this is alright. Winter said I should come with her, but if it’s not okay I can go.”

  “No,” he growled, lowering his head almost to touch her nose with his. “Stay.”

  And that’s when he touched her, taking his two hands to her hips, pulling her forward. “Stay, baby. I want you to.”

  “Okay,” she beamed. “I finished work a bit ago. Tessa came in early and let me go.” Tessa was one of the other diner girls who worked alternate shifts to Paige, she’d tried to come onto him a long time ago until his uninterested snarl gave her the message. “This place is bigger on the inside. Like the Tardis. It looks nothing like I was imagining.”

  “Want a tour?”

  Again, she smiled like he’d offered her some important shit.

  This girl had no idea of the things he’d do for her, had done for her, would do again and again for her just to see her happy.

  “I’d love one.”

  Thirty minutes later after he’d shown her around in most all the rooms he could, and took her for a walk around the courtyard, showcasing the mountains, they ended up back where they started.

  Eyes were still watching them and for once Reaper didn’t care. He was too highly tuned to Paige’s frequency, that everything else fell by the wayside.

  “You hungry?” He’d bring her a fatted calf if needed, but he knew she had simple tastes and would prefer a cheese panini with pickles on the side.

  “I ate before we got here. Winter and I shared a huge plate of salty fries.” She licked her lips and Reaper groaned, his body acting on instinct by crowding against hers.

  With his lips pressed to the shell of her ear, he didn’t bother angling his body away as he once would have so she didn’t notice his arousal. He wanted Paige to feel every hard inch of the body that was awake for hers.

  “I want to put my hand between your legs, and rub until my fingers are left dripping wet, baby.”

  Her shudder calmed him down some, but it didn’t stop him from pressing his face against the side of Paige’s throat. Now he’d allowed himself to touch her, he needed some part of his skin on hers. To know this was real and he wasn’t trapped inside a dream.

  “I fucked you too much yesterday, I know, baby. I must have hurt you.”

  “I wanted you just as badly.” She whispered and sent a tremor this time through Reaper’s structural bones. Her hands came up between them and she fisted his shirt, bringing him closer.

  His cock pulsed to get between all their clothes.

  “I need to touch you. To make it better.” He confessed. “Will you let me carry you off somewhere?”

  “If you make it any better I might pass out,” she puffed out a giggle. “Fair warning.”

  Reaper smirked. She made him feel whole, like a fucking titan. He nuzzled her cheek, down her neck and sucked a place right there while he angled her hips into him. “I want to carry you, Paige. But I won’t if it’ll embarrass you in front of everyone.” Her eyes opened wide like she hadn’t considered people were around to see them.

  He knew the boys would be watching, they were like a clucking gaggle of gossiping bitches most of the time. Usually with Snake leading the pack. “I’ll punch them if they dare say anything to embarrass you.”

  “I’d really like that,” she whispered. “The carrying. Not the punching.”

  He swept her up, her legs instantly went around his waist, her hands caught in the back of his hair and she had the biggest smile on her face.

  A smile he’d put there.

&nbs
p; Fucking king of the world right here.

  On cue, whistles and jeers rang through the club.

  Her face went into his neck, he felt her body trembling with laughter. “Ignore them, baby. It’s just you and me. You smell fucking incredible, Paige. I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”

  He was striding halfway down the long maze of a hallway when she lifted her head high enough to give him her wide eyes. “You said just your hand.”

  “You know my mouth would be jealous. Fucking addicted to tasting your pleasure. I can’t wait for your scent, Paige. For it to take over and become my world. You gonna let me?”

  Her eyes were glassy when she cupped his face and looked down at him. His steps didn’t even falter, not even as his heart crashed and tumbled, and his cock demanded to see fucking daylight right there.

  “That was the sweetest compliment I’ve ever had.”

  He groaned. “I’ll give you more. Just tell me yes.”

  “Yes. So many yeses, ten million yeses.” She murmured, lips pressed to his and it was then he nearly stumbled when she started rocking her little pussy on his stomach, desperate to get her somewhere private. “Hurry, Reaper.” She demanded, her fingers just a little tighter in his hair, the pain went to his dick. “Oh, god, my female parts are screaming.”

  He’d stumbled into a room using a hip to push the door open. With Paige’s mouth on his neck he could barely fucking see, but he managed to kick the door shut and drop her onto the bed.

  Her words registered. His mouth twitched. “Your female parts, huh?” Shit, she was cute.

  “Yes,” she whined, spread out for him like a feast. He knew without a doubt if he slid his hand into her jeans she’d be sopping wet. “I can hear my blood. Oh my god, please, Reaper.”

  * * *

  Paige begged.

  She’d never begged in her life, she didn’t think.

  Not for this. Not for sex.

  But any sense of silliness was washed away because Reaper attacked.

  Ho.

  Ly.

  Smokes.

  Boy, did he attack. He about fell on her body, luckily her legs were wantonly open in invitation for his hips to fall through. Pinned right there, he took her lips, prying them apart and he lashed inside with his delicious tongue.

  Oh, dear god in the afterlife. She went up in flames, pushed off his skull cap and grabbed big handfuls of his hair.

  His extraordinarily wonderful kiss pushed her from aroused to burning for his possession in seconds. So much so she mewled her need into his mouth and clawed at his shirt to get it off his body so she could see all that gorgeous muscle and skin

  “I need you,” she confessed and watched his eyes flash.

  Her jeans and underwear were gone. Tossed onto the floor along with her booties and jacket. Before she knew it, Paige was naked and watching Reaper yank his shirt over his head by grabbing it from the back. Yummy, yummy.

  He dropped to his knees and latched his mouth between her legs.

  Sucking. Sucking. Ughn. He had the best mouth.

  His suck sent her woozy, consumed in instant pleasure.

  He wasn’t cautious. He didn’t give her testing licks. He just covered her mound with his full, wet mouth and he gave her the most intimate French kiss of all. When he pushed her folds open with his thumbs and kissed her inside, that’s when Paige catapulted into another dimension.

  Belatedly realizing they were surrounded by men just outside that flimsy door he hadn’t even locked, she shoved both hands over her mouth and cried out as her body froze in mid-thrust just as Reaper slid two fingers deep inside her, curling hard into her G-spot.

  “Just testing how badly I hurt you, baby.” Those fingers moved in and out slowly on her tender, swollen flesh. She could have had a vagina that looked like she’d been attacked by a bear and she wouldn’t have stopped his fingers from entering her, because around the soreness came the unimaginable pleasure of being handled by him.

  It was like a remembered dream, or a memory she’d forgotten, but this feeling was familiar, her body recognized how good it felt and she knew she was addicted to it.

  “It’s good,” she mumbled behind her hand and heard him chuckle, her head lifted to see him watching her.

  “Ah, baby, that’s what I wanted to hear.” Lick. Lick. His tongue moved from top to bottom and back up to her wanting clit which throbbed in his mouth. Paige leaned back on a hand, keeping the other locked firmly in Reaper’s hair, stroking his scalp while she watched the decadent sight of his blond head between her thighs, his so-wide shoulders pressed between to keep them apart. “Never want to hurt you,” he murmured, maybe to her? Maybe to her clit. Either way Paige giggled. “but I need to make you come.”

  Please, god. She’d pay him ten million gigolo dollars for him to make her come.

  No sex in years and now she was practically writhing against the man’s face to get her some. Legs spread wider, he threw her calves over his shoulders, she cried out, blind to anything but the way he orchestrated her body.

  It was an embarrassingly short amount of time from start to finish and when she came her whole body froze up and she… oh, wow … she gushed out of her sex as his two fingers fucked against her G-spot over and over, tormenting that secret cushiony part of her libido. His mouth wasn’t gentle, eating her brutally with tongue, lips and even his teeth to shoot shards of electricity through her and the pleasure went on and on, her bones felt like they were breaking it was too good.

  She couldn’t look, she let her head go back to the bed, so damn pleasured and a little shy, she listened instead to his growls of encouragement and his “fuck, baby yeah, that’s my fucking girl.”

  He finished by kissing her sex before he prowled over her, caging her body, making her look up at him.

  Her body felt like it had been spun dry.

  His arms came up beside her head, and he dropped his face close to hers. He was beautiful, Paige thought. Not in that typical boy band gorgeous. He had lines, a rugged olive tan, his nose wasn’t perfectly straight, but she found him utterly, completely, no question about it beautiful. So beautiful her belly tightened in lust, borderline love filled clutches.

  Without waiting, she stole her hands around his bare chest, then to hold onto his back. She loved his skin and the big continuous tattoo that covered half of his body. Vines, distorted flowers, skulls, knives, A huge Harley roped around one arm, clocks, even a cute bird but smack dab in the middle of his chest was a colorful ladybug—the only color that adorned his tattoos—wrapped in black shaded hearts and cradled in two hands.

  Paige had traced her finger over his ribs last night, drawing the bug with the tip and though Reaper had watched her, he’d looked pained.

  “Are all of these random?” She asked now. Dancing her fingers against his ribs again. He settled in the crook of her legs, his face hovering, eyes unreadable.

  “Some.”

  “And this?” He looked down at her finger over the bird.

  “It’s the kiwi bird. Where I’m from.”

  “And these?” The clocks.

  “To remind me time is momentary.” His lips moved across her temple, down her cheek.

  Her heart fluttered.

  “And this one?” Almost as if he knew the exact spot she was touching without looking, he stilled, his lips on hers. “Is this ladybug important, Reaper?”

  “Yeah, it’s what I called her,” he croaked, and she knew then, the tone and agony in his voice, she knew, and she felt her own heart tug for him. She softened her voice, stroked the ladybug tattoo again before curling her hand in his hair. “That one is for your wife?” He nodded, eyes raking her face. “You can talk about her you know? I don’t mind.” Maybe a little, but she was a grown up, he’d had a wife, one he loved very much, it was something she had to deal with if she wanted a relationship with him.

  “Not now.” He said finally, pressing his lips down on hers, harder. “Not like this.” He rolled to his side, sat up an
d plucked her up, placing Paige on his lap, holding her delicately.

  Okay, so his wife was a landmine she knew she’d have to tread carefully around.

  Naked on his lap, she curled in and tucked her hands against his bare chest, she stroked one around his ribs, almost as if she were introducing herself to his wife by placing her hand on that prevalent tattoo.

  I’ll take good care of him.

  “This was Tiny’s room.” Reaper broke the silence; his hand stopped the motion on her hip. “Didn’t realize.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Tiny. He died a few years back.” He murmured. Pressing his lips to Paige’s temple. “First patched boy we lost since I’ve been a member. It was a rough time. Couldn’t say I knew the boy all that well, but he was a good kid. Huge but gentle.”

  Paige cuddled his waist. “You liked him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We probably shouldn’t have done what we just did in here, if this is his room.” She winced a little. What a way to desecrate someone’s memory, she thought.

  But Reaper grinned and held her tighter, his long fingers curled around her hip sending heat to her nether regions. “Nah, he would have loved his room getting some action.”

  Whatever he insisted; she was still going to get back into her clothes asap.

  Just as soon as she cuddled him a few minutes more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Job done.” - Juicy

  A bike rumbled through the gates the following afternoon just as Reaper was calling quits on work. He turned to see it was Juicy, so he waited for the younger guy to park up and head on over before heading in for church.

  “Hey, Reaper man.” He slapped the other guy’s hand. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. You just getting back?”

  “Yeah, man. Fucking exhausted, my ass feels like it’s been ridden hard.”

  They walked in together but split off once they were inside.

  Juicy was more sociable and went around the room slapping hands.

  Reaper found a seat at the bar and faced out into the room.

  Most everyone was here for the meeting.