by V. Theia
Rider had a big reach and a lot of respect. When he was pissed at someone, people listened. And it wasn’t always about violence if they wanted to hurt someone.
“Sticking around, hermano? We’re having a few drinks with the guys from Westbank.”
“Nah. Catch you boys later.” Reaper said. He’d done his duty, time to get home to Paige.
He was so much in his head consumed with Paige as he stepped out into the cooler air with previous rain from earlier soaking the ground that he didn’t see the meaty fist flying, until it connected with his temple and knocked Reaper fucking dizzy as he staggered and hit the brick wall almost as hard as if a train had rammed him from behind.
“You Aussie prick! We needed that money,” a voice growled throwing a jab to Reaper’s ribs.
Pain exploded.
It also motivated him real damn fast.
Two came at him from both sides.
Fists started to collide with his body. The chattier guy spewing out how Reaper had gotten them into so much trouble. He didn’t need a road map to realize it was the trainer and some guy he hadn’t seen before. Probably one of their team. Thank fuck the big bruiser wasn’t part of this little dance crew or Reaper feared he’d be shaking hands with Elvis.
He wasn’t a fighter by nature, and it had been a while since he’d used his fists, but he was no passive pussy willing to just take it. He got in a few licks of his own until blood coated his knuckles and he felt the crack of teeth on his skin. He used his leg and swiped the guy’s knee, while he took a fist to the ribs again, the same ribs that were screaming in agony.
“I’m from fucking New Zealand, you illiterate fuck.” Reaper schooled, kicking the guy on the floor.
He truly believed in saved by the bell, as his dad always lived by, when the back door opened and a group of fight enthusiasts came staggering out, startling the two guys. With a last boot to the one on the floor before the guy hauled himself up, they both took off down the alleyway.
“You okay, buddy?” One called out to Reaper, who only had eyes on the two retreating motherfuckers.
His ribs smarting like howling dogs.
“Yeah.” he answered with a bite to his jaw, fury in his eyes, retracing his steps inside.
If they thought he was gonna let this go, they really were dumb motherfuckers.
He knew one of them.
It would take Lawless an hour tops to have that little shits address. His friend was gonna thank him tonight for unleashing his black bag of tricks.
* * *
“Is it strange that we’ve just fallen into this relationship without a missed step?”
“I hate to break your heart, Paige,” Winter said as she stirred a bowl of cake batter and smiled across as Paige too scooped out muffin batter into decorative cases. “But I’m a married women.”
Paige chuckled. “We can have an affair, Winnie. I don’t mind being the other woman. Snake will share with me.”
That was a big fat lie. What she knew of Winter’s husband was that he was super possessive over his girl and rightly so.
“Do you think it’s strange?” Winter asked.
“That’s just it. It doesn’t feel weird to me at all. Like we haven’t even had the ‘will you be my girlfriend’ talk. I just feel like I am already. Unless all he wants is sex and I don’t know it.”
Winter chuckled while she added more white chocolate chips to the batter. “Lady, you know it’s not just sex. That guy has been obsessed with you for ages and you both danced around it like chickens. Now he’s yours so just enjoy it.”
Enjoy it and him. She would. She was. Paige loved every second she got to have with Reaper.
It was speak of the devil an hour later when a knock at the back door off from the garage alerted the pair. Winter checked the video monitor to see who it was before answering.
“Your boyfriend is here; I’m guessing it’s not for a cupcake.” Grinned Winter padding across the floor to pull the door open while Paige’s heart thumped excitedly. She even did a fast hair check and smoothed a wrinkle out of her cotton pants.
“Snake said Paige was here.” She heard in his gruff voice.
“She sure is, come on in. Is my hubby with you?”
“He was dropping off at the club first.”
Drawn to him by an invisible thread, Paige moved across the kitchen floor, a smile on her face until she was standing toe-to-toe with the man who made her belly do funny flops at the sight of him.
It was instinctual to lift her face for a kiss and he didn’t hesitate in dropping a soft one on her lips. “Hi,” she beamed.
“Came to take you home if you’re ready.”
They passed by Snake driving up the street, both men lifting their hands to each other as Paige held onto Reaper’s waist. It was maybe a third of the way home that made Paige think something was wrong when she felt Reaper jerk against her touch as she slid her hands along his waist. Call it a hunch or women’s intuition but when she climbed off the back of his motorcycle she stopped him by touching his arm before he could walk her up the stairs to her apartment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“Paige. Let’s get inside, it’s cold.”
It wasn’t cold. It was a comfortable summers evening; she could have traveled home without a jacket and not felt a chill.
Going with her instincts, Paige reached out and pressed the flat of her fingers against his ribs. He hissed and arched away from her touch.
She lost color from her face. “What’s wrong, are you hurt?”
He favored his right side with his arm and watching him warily she had no choice but to follow him up the stairs because he’d taken off in front of her with her keys in his hand. “Are you going to answer me?”
The outside light above her door illuminated his face. “I’m fine, Paige.”
She prodded his side again and this time his hiss sounded like a cobra in agony. So much so she stopped him from taking another step and yanked up the hem of his Henley shirt.
What she saw nearly buckled Paige’s knees out from under her as her mouth filled with spit in that way it does when she was about to throw up. “Tell me you didn’t have a fight in that cage tonight!”
“I didn’t.” he answered toneless, shrugged off his coat like it was no big fucking deal to him that half of his right side was a horrible purple color.
“So this is from?”
“There was an incident earlier, I got jumped. It’s nothing, Paige. I’m fine, really.”
He got fucking jumped?
Knowing the answer didn’t make her feel better at all but it was all the answers he would give her after that. Even when she tried to look at it closer to see if it needed medical treatment, he wouldn’t tell her what happened or why.
She slammed the bathroom door behind her, equally fuming as she was worried while she vigorously brushed her teeth and yanked on her sleep shorts.
Reaper was on the other side of the door frowning when she finally wrenched it open. He’d been sleeping naked, but he stood in just his shorts and a t-shirt, probably so she couldn’t see his bruising, which only stoked her temper even more; she slid by him and sat on the side of the bed to brush her hair before tying it in a side braid.
“Are you gonna be mad at me forever?”
“I’m thinking about it.” She snapped.
“Baby, I’m fine, really. Shit happens. I got my licks in too.”
She glared. Like that even mattered. Couldn’t he see how worried she was? And he’d intended to keep it a secret from her…
She climbed into bed and lay on her side. Reaper soon joined her and didn’t give her space. He smashed up to her back, arms around her waist and she sank back into him. He flipped off the lamp, sending them into darkness.
“I don’t like secrets, Reaper, and this was a biggie. You being hurt hurts me. Not knowing about it, hurts me.”
“It’s why I didn’t tell you. I do
n’t ever want you to worry about me. That’s my job.”
She laughed but there was nothing funny here. “Since when?”
“Since always.”
“Since before you told me you even liked me?”
“Yeah.”
That was kind of fucked up too. That he’d taken on that kind of responsibility and she didn’t even know it. Was that the type of relationship he was looking for, where he shouldered all the major tasks and she was the little woman in the background, oblivious to his lifestyle and danger he might be in?
Because Paige wasn’t about that life and she would have told him so if his lips hadn’t started traveling down her neck at that exact moment. “Don’t be mad at me,” he said quietly, kissing her throat. His hands slipped around her waist to roll her onto her back and when he loomed over her, using his knee to spread her legs, she let him and felt him drop into the space.
Their breaths were whispers apart, his nose touching hers, his hips pressed snugly letting her feel his hardness.
“I need to be inside you.”
Paige moaned from low in her throat, shock electrifying every square inch of her body as her hips lifted automatically but she didn’t say a peep in return, she let her eyes tell him how not happy she was with him. Reaper was big on consent. Even though she was wild for him, crazy in lust with him and her body wanted his almost every minute of the day, he still stopped to ask if it was okay, if she was okay to fuck him. Every time.
Not giving him the words now was a little mean seeing as how they both were trembling wanting it and his cock nudged against her covered pussy, but she wouldn’t give him the words. Not even when his kiss turned savage, his tongue manic in her mouth, sending her dizzy with want.
“Paige, please.”
No words. Her breath harsh and choppy. Her hands roamed all over him.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you.” He pleaded against her lips. “I won’t hold back.”
She smiled and locked her fingers in his hair. “Be inside me.”
His groan was pure sex, it was the best way she could describe how animalistic he became in her bed in those few seconds. It rattled seductively and played music all over her skin. He started by wrenching her legs open.
He might wait for permission, but it didn’t mean Reaper wasn’t deliciously rough once he had it.
She loved that about him.
She loved everything about him but especially how clearly he wanted her.
It was imprinted on every inch of his taut face as he began peeling her out of her shorts and licking down the center of her body until her folds were well and truly quaking for more and when he slid home? Bliss. Doubly so when he didn’t take it easy on her, he screwed her brains out. Three times.
Their sex that night and well into the next morning was as consuming as ever. Paige’s body was spent and sated and tingling from overuse and a well caring man fast asleep on his belly beside her and through all that she had a niggling doubt chewing away at the inside of her mind.
If he could withhold bruises from her, what else would Reaper keep back from her … for her own good?
It was no foundation for any relationship and not a brand new one.
It was what worried her most of all.
While her body was well and truly relaxed, her mind was a pressure cooker, whirling thoughts and doubts around. It took a really long time for sleep to come.
It was music from the radio that woke Paige the next morning.
That and the smell of grease.
For a second she wondered if she’d fallen asleep at work but the moment her eyes opened she remembered it was her day off and she didn’t need to be woken by an alarm.
Standing with his back to her, Reaper, in low slung jeans and his Henley from last night, his hair tied back and his feet bare made for the sexiest sight.
He turned a half-smile on her, pan and spatula in hand as he tipped food out onto a plate.
Hells bells, he cooked too?
“Morning, baby. Ready for coffee?”
For a person who rose most days at three thirty, Paige wasn’t all that cheerful for the first hour of every day. All that changed when she started having sleepovers with Reaper. Now she was an insanely grinning clown crossing her kitchen to accept a mug of coffee.
“I was going to make you waffles.” She said looking at the steaming plate of eggs and bacon. The folded omelet looked perfect, slightly browned with flecks of greenery inside and ooey-gooey cheese pouring out at the sides. Alongside it laid inch thick strips of bacon and it was done to a charred crisp. “How did you know that’s how I like my bacon?”
“Lucky guess.” He half-smiled and kissed the top of her head.
Before she took a seat, she stopped him in his tracks.
“Take off your shirt.”
He all but growled his delight and swooped in as if to kiss her. Paige, although amused, stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Calm down, Fabio. I want to put cream on your bruises.”
Reaper frowned but whipped the shirt over his head.
She winced and got mad all over again. It was even worse today. Big, ugly yellow and purple bruising covered most of one side of his torso and she knew they were tender because a few times during the night she’d come up against his ribs and his moan rang in her ears.
“You need to get checked out,” she told him, slathering cream to help the bruising as gently as she could, keeping her own upset in check this time. He stood quietly, his head cranked down to her and let her tend to him. “These could be broken. You could have internal bleeding.”
A hand tangled in the back of her hair; Reaper’s blunt nails scratched her scalp softly. “I’m good, baby, but I’ll get The Butcher to look at it when I ride into the club.”
She hmphed and recapped the cream. She supposed it was the best she could hope for. Winter had warned her about the biker mentality of being complacently stubborn, albeit for the right reasons usually, this was it, she thought.
“Thank you, baby.” He said, pulling his shirt back on.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, mostly Paige chewing and contemplating through her thoughts. She wasn’t crazy enough to not share a kiss with him at the door when he left for work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Found you.” – Sargent
“Yo, ghost. You didn’t tell us you were dating a celebrity.” Called out Pretty-boy from the other end of the common room loud enough his voice echoed around the high ceilings.
When Reaper looked up from his chess game with Krusher and saw a group of the boys around the TV, his heart nearly collapsed in his chest.
His Paige was smiling on the screen.
His girl was on TV in her form-fitting peach uniform, those black and yellow striped tights she loved and her hair in a thick rope down her back. Smiling like she was at the Oscars while she gave an interview to the person behind the camera.
His goddamn thumping heart quit beating and he nearly broke the chair in his haste to stand, it skidded on the scuffed floor.
The words Paige was saying all became static noise through his ears. He caught her talking a big game about the diner in her sweet way, how the chef was revolutionizing the menu, the popular desserts and how family-friendly the place was.
Why in the good fuck was she on goddamn TV when he thought this had been decided?
“She looks good, a natural, talking up the diner like that.”
“Didya know she was gonna be on? We could have gone for breakfast and got Snake’s ugly mug on TV.”
“Gonna be seeing you at the Met Gala now, brother?”
“I’m disturbed as fuck that you know about the Met Gala.”
“Fuck you, I read shit.”
He tuned out the boys running conversation because he was trying to breathe. His stomach bottomed out and he stopped right there in the middle of the common room, staring at the screen until Paige’s three-minute segment ended.
And then he moved.
&
nbsp; Long strides took Reaper through the club, down the corridor, he didn’t even knock on Rider’s office door when he pushed it open to find the Prez with his woman on his lap. Fortunately for all concerned, and Reaper’s neck, all they were doing was talking.
“Prez. I need a word.”
It could only have been the look of dread on Reaper’s face that stopped Rider from kicking his ass out for interrupting him with his old lady. Zara hopped off his lap. “I need to go grab a coffee.” the pair shared a quiet word and a swift kiss, and she smiled at Reaper as she passed him in the doorway.
“Come in, close the door. What’s up?”
Making his feet move, he shoved fingers under the beanie hat, the pain already niggling at his temples. Before it could erupt he took out a pill bottle from his inner pocket and swallowed the chalky pills.
“You know how I keep an eye on Tennessee? I think shit is about to hit the fan. If not, then I need to check on it anyway. Can you have the chapter there look into him? I just need to make sure he’s there and not anywhere else. I’d do it myself, but it would take too long to ride through.”
“Expecting trouble?”
The positive thing about Rider knowing all of Reaper’s shit was he didn’t need to revisit the whole sorry fucking story. He never poked his nose in, but he always made sure to ask Reaper if things were still cool. Up until now it was.
“I didn’t think Paige was gonna do this TV shit. It goes national, Rider.”
Rider nodded gravely, already reaching for his cell.
Reaper paced the length of the office, his fingers digging into his hair while he listened to Rider talk to Smoke, the Prez of the TN chapter.
“It’s just eyes for now, brother.” Rider explained. “Just need to know the guy is where he should be.”
Pace. Pace. Reaper’s mind was already five steps ahead.
Was this the day he’d have to leave? Talking Paige into packing a bag without an explanation would be difficult.