Protecting Mine (Unforgiven Riders Book 2)

by Amy Davies

  “What the hell happened, babe?” I run my thumb over her face, wiping away the fresh tears. Her gaze is locked on me, and I can see the fear in her eyes. I slowly pick her up and sit her in my lap. Pulling her head against my chest, I run my hand up and down her back, soothing her.

  “Talk to me, babe,” I say in a soft tone. I wait a beat for her to answer.

  “I was getting ready to go shopping when—” Another hiccup slips from her. I pull her tighter to me. “I heard a car screeching to a stop and some gravel hit the house, then the bangs started, followed by the smashing of glass. Someone was throwing something at the house. I took cover and haven’t moved since.”

  “When?” Going by the state of her, it could have only just happened. I fucking know who did this. Those motherfuckers are going to pay for this. I try to keep my anger in place until I can get someone here to sit with her, then I can go and unleash my rage on these fucking cunts.

  “Not long. Maybe thirty minutes ago.” She shrugs, burrowing closer to me. She smells fucking amazing, and I know I shouldn’t think of this shit, but her scent is making my dick twitch. Come on, I am a red-blooded male after all. She wiggles her arse over my groin, making me groan into her ear, and she giggles.

  That sound is the best in the fucking world. It’s up there with the sound of her climaxing and the growl of bike revving. I lean back, looking down at her. She pulls her head up to look at me. I swipe away her tears.

  “No more crying. I hate seeing women cry, especially my woman.”

  “Your woman?” she questions. I nod and smirk at her.

  “Yeah, baby, my woman. You are mine. I’ve told you this.” Seeing her scared has made me put things into perspective. I want to keep her. Leaning in, I kiss her wet, swollen lips. I hate that these fuckers have made her look like this, even though her lips look fucking suckable right now.

  “Don’t you think that should be something you ask me first? Not just assume that I want to be your woman.” She cocks an eyebrow at me, and I smile at her. She needs a lesson or two about how an MC works.

  “Baby, the Unforgiven Riders are not like some MC’s out there. We don’t run drugs, guns, or girls. Yeah, we get into trouble from time to time, but everyone needs some excitement in their lives. We treat our women with care and respect. Some think we’re weak for that, but fuck me, it’s the female population who make the world go round. I mean, come the fuck on, men could never push a human out of their bodies. We would cry and rock in the corner.” I wink at her, making her smile. “This,” I touch her bottom lip and smile at her, “is what I want to see more of. I want to put the smile there. Whether it’s a happy smile or a blissed-out smile, I want to put it there.” I peck her lips and continue.

  “When we find someone we want, we take her, and we keep her. We protect her. Jamie, I want to keep you. Claim you.”

  “So, are we labelling things now, Dyson?” I can hear a little irritation in her voice this time. She seemed like she was joking when she asked the previous question.

  “Why are you being a bitch about this?”

  “A bitch? I think it’s normal practice to ask a girl to be your girlfriend, Dyson, not just tell her she is. For fucks sake.” She shakes her head, before she continues her rant. “I told you I’m not being ruled by a man again.”

  “Fucking hell, I never said I wanted to rule or control you. I just want you to be my woman. I want to be with you and protect you. Is that too much to fucking ask?”

  “Protect me? From what? I’m not in any danger. I can look after myself.”

  “Clearly.” I wave my hand around the room. “I know that you’re a tough woman. Jesus fucking Christ, Jamie, I can’t win with you. You want us to be together, but you don’t want me to claim you.”

  “Fuck,” she mutters. I grip her chin and try to make her look at me, but she yanks her face away. She won’t fucking look at me.

  Fucking awesome.

  My chest tightens, so I shift her off me and climb to my feet, leaving her on the floor. I bend down to pick up my gun and secure it in the waistband of my jeans at my back. I need to walk away and breathe. Walking out of the kitchen, I take a few deep breaths and step into the large living room to check on the damage.

  The front windows are completely smashed, some of the wood splintered. I need to get that fixed. If she will fucking let me. I rest my hands on my hips and look around the room. Rocks and half-bricks are all over the room. Some of her photos and ornaments are broken, in pieces on the floor.

  Her TV is in one piece, thank fuck. Her furniture seems okay, from what I can see. There are a few dents on the dining table she has on one side of the room, but everything else seems fine.

  I bend over and pick up a photo frame. It’s of Jamie and her dads, Lewis and Thomas. I smile at the photo. They look so happy. I stand it back on the side cabinet and bend over again to pick up more photos.

  “Leave it. I’ll do it later.” Her voice comes from the door. I straighten up and turn to look at her. She’s washed her face, but she still looks defensive. I shake my head and look at my boots.

  “What?” she asks. I bring my gaze back up to her, and I can clearly see that anything I say today will go unheard.

  “I was just trying to help, but I can see by the look on your face that you clearly don’t want it. So why bother?”

  “I didn’t ask for your help, Dyson.” My fists clench when she uses my road-name. She knows she’s to call me Wes when it’s just us—hell, all the fucking time for all I care. My pulse races, but I refuse to leave her with this mess. I walk over to the window and start moving the large pieces of glass. I can hear her breathing pick up behind me. She is getting pissed, but fuck if I care. She’s my woman, and I’m not going to leave her alone after what just happened.

  “Just leave it, Dyson.”

  “No.” I keep cleaning. I feel her behind me when she slaps the glass out of my hand. I spin around to look at her, my breathing now matching hers. I’m angry as fuck at her right now.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I snarl at her. She doesn’t flinch at my tone or the angry look on my face. I have been told by many that I have a very angry face.

  “I said leave it. Just fucking leave. Just leave like you did four fucking days ago.” She is panting, and her anger is taking over, but I see something else in her eyes; hurt and fear maybe. I knew me not texting her pissed her off, but I did try the next day. She ignored me.

  “Don’t be a bitch again, Jamie. I came here to explain, and found my woman crying on the kitchen floor. I can't do fuck all about it yet, but I can help clean up. Prez sent me out on a run that should have taken a day at most, but shit got fucked up and it took longer.” I tip my head back and glare up at the ceiling before looking back at her.

  “I tried calling and texting, but you, being the stubborn arse that you are, didn’t answer or reply. I know you’re pissed, but do you seriously expect me to walk away from this?” I wave my arm around the room.

  All the first-floor windows need to be replaced. She needs a new front door. Most of the frames are shattered, so they need to be replaced, too.

  “I am getting really fucking sick and tired of you calling me a bitch.” I snigger at her, pulling my phone out of my back pocket, and call Suede.

  “Son,” Dad answers.

  “Hey, I need you to send a couple of prospects over to Jamie’s house. The fuckers have thrown bricks at her house, shattered all her windows and her door. Damaged shit inside the house too. Send Batch; he can fix the main things.”

  “You know who did it?” he asks.

  “Got a pretty good idea, yeah. I’ll fill you in later.” Throughout the conversation, I keep my gaze on Jamie, who is fuming as she stands in front of me. She looks sexy as fuck when she’s pissed the fuck off. Her arms are crossed, and her tits are pushed up and almost falling out of her little cropped vest top.

  “Your girl okay?”

  I smirk at her before I answer. “Yeah, Dad,
she’s okay. A little shaken, but you know my girl; she’s tough as nails. Thinks she can handle it all on her own.” I wink at her, but her face doesn’t change.

  “You have a good one there, boy. Keep hold of her. She reminds me of your mum when we were your age. She was built for this life, even though she never grew up in the MC. It takes a special woman to handle our way of living, and Jamie can handle it. But tell her she doesn't need to handle this bullshit on her own anymore.” I nod in agreement, because he’s right. Jamie is old lady material. I just need her to see it and believe me when I tell her I want her to wear my property patch and ink.

  “Yeah, Prez, I agree. She’s perfect old lady material. I wish she could see it and want it. Yeah, I’ll tell her.” I drop the smile from my face, showing her how serious I am. Jamie shows no emotion on her face, but I can see her fists clench under her folded arms.

  Our gazes stay locked, and I try to work out what she’s thinking. How are my words affecting her? Does she not want me to be her old man? Fuck, I thought she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

  Prez’s voice bring me out of my thoughts.

  “I’ll send the boys over now. Maybe some jaw-aching time as well, yeah?” I chuckle when he mentions the ‘Jaw-aching Team’. It’s not what people think. My dad named Ana and Z the ‘Jaw-aching Team’ because they always find a way to make people talk. They use different methods with different people. Ana learned a long time ago that keeping shit locked up did more harm than good, so now she swears that talking through your shit is better.

  “Sounds like plan. Send them over.” I hang up and just smile at Jamie.

  Jamie

  What is his fucking problem? I want him to leave. I need to clean up and find someone to fix my front windows. He smirks at me and walks into the kitchen. I take a deep breath and try to calm my temper, which is already at boiling point, but I know I will explode if Dyson carries on this way. I march after him and stop when I see him making himself a cup of coffee.

  “Why can’t you just leave, Dyson?”

  “Wesley,” he growls at me.

  “Oh, fuck off.” I storm over to the cupboard and pull out a sweeping brush. I feel him behind me, his breath on my neck. My nipples stiffen, causing them to poke through the white cami-vest. I haven’t dressed today. It’s my day off, so I was just going to lounge around after cleaning.

  “Leave it,” he hisses.

  “No. This is my house, Dy—”

  “Woman.” He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me tight so I can’t escape his hold. “I have prospects coming to clean up, as well as Batch and some of the boys to help fix all the fucked-up shit. Please, let me do this.”

  “I don’t need you, Dyson. Just go.” I take a deep breath. I know I’m being a total cunt right now, but I need him gone. I need to get my head straight.

  I was scared as fuck when the first brick came through the window. I haven't been this scared since that night. I know who it was, because they were spouting shit at the house. I’m thankful my neighbours didn't phone the police.

  “No can do. If me being here bothers you that much, then I’ll fuck off when the boys and girls get here.” I can hear some hurt in his voice, and I know it’s from me not wanting him here.

  Besides my fathers, I’m not used to having a man take care of me. I know he’s being thoughtful, but I need to process everything that’s happened. Even though the sex has been great with Wes over the last few weeks, and the times we have spent talking on the phone and texting have been amazing, I need to let things settle in.

  “Girls?” I question. I frown, hoping he’s not saying what I think he’s saying. “You’re bringing club whores to my house? Are you fucking serious?” I growl out, my temper spiking again. Wesley just chuckles at me and kisses my bare shoulder.

  “I really wanna fuck this bitchy attitude right out of you, but we don't have enough time. Because for me to do that, I would need all fucking night, baby.”

  “What the hell are you trying to say?”

  “That you’re a bitch, and you have so much ‘bitch’ inside of you, it will take a shit load of hours to bang it out of you.” He turns me in his arms as the rumble of bikes gets louder. The MC have arrived.

  “Now, be a good little lady and go and put some fucking clothes on. Even though I love your sexy as fuck body, I don’t wanna smash a brother’s face in for eye-fucking my woman.” He winks at me.

  “Piss off,” I snark and walk out of the room, leaving him to chuckle behind me. Prick. I race up the stairs, taking two at a time. I run into my bedroom and throw open my walk-in-wardrobe before rummaging for something to wear. I take out a pair of bleached denim cut-off shorts. I find my bra and knicker set and slide them on. I pull my grey, sleeveless top with two skeletons holding hands and a heart between them, over my head.

  I run the brush through my hair and forgo any make-up. I really can’t be arsed to do anything today. I know I have to clean up, but after that, I’m vegging out on the sofa and eating my weight in popcorn. Mmmm, popcorn. Did I mention I fucking love popcorn? Best food group ever. Hey, don’t fucking judge me, Judgy-Pants.

  When I walk down the stairs, I hear men talking. I can’t make out what they are saying. I frown, hating that I can’t eavesdrop, before hitting the bottom step. Stepping into my living room, I see there are maybe eight to ten bikers standing there, looking menacing but hot as hell.

  Yeah, you wanna be me now, don't you? Bitches.

  Dyson is standing next to an older version of him, so I can safely assume that’s Suede, the President of the club and Wesley’s father. Oh, fucking hell, meeting the dad. Suede’s head comes up, and he sees me standing there. He offers me a smile that matches Wesley’s, and I can’t stop the returning smile from forming on my lips. So, this is what I have to look forward to when Wesley ages. Not bad at all, if I do say.

  Oh, fuck. Am I really thinking about a future with Wesley? Oh hell, I am. Well fuck me sideways with a cactus. I frown at the thought of actually fucking someone with a cactus. Oh, that fucker would hurt like a bitch.

  Someone clears their throat, and I look away from Suede and see Dyson frowning at me. I shrug and walk over to the group of men. You know, the men who are sexy as sin. I’m pretty sure it’s a legal requirement to join the Unforgiven Riders; all members must be drop-dead gorgeous in their denim and leather.

  “Baby, these are my brothers from the club. Suede, the President of the club, and my dad,” Dyson introduces us.

  “Nice to meet you, sweetheart. My boy has spoken a lot about you. Sorry you have to deal with these fuckheads, but I promise you, baby girl, we will sort them out,” Suede says. My eyes are fixed on his; they’re the same shade as Wesley’s. I nod and smile back.

  “Nice to meet you too. And thanks. I swear, though, if I get my hands on these wankers first, I won’t need to the club to hurt them. I’ll do it myself.” Chuckles go up around me, and I look at the men standing in my living room. Batch and EC are here, and a few others I don’t know. Prospects, I presume.

  “Baby, I don’t want you going anywhere near these dickheads. You stay clear. The club will handle them, got me?” His eyes bore into mine, and I have no choice but to answer him and listen. I know he will keep me safe when he’s here. But what about when he’s away on a run again?

  I answer him, even though I know I won’t fully listen. I’m not that kinda girl. “Whatever.” He leans in and kisses my lips gently, and everyone in the room fades away. He deepens the kiss, before breaking contact and whispering in my ear.

  “I knew you wouldn’t stay mad at me for long. But I can still bang the attitude out of you when I come back later.” He winks at me and pinches my arse. Hard.

  “Ouch, that fucking hurt, you arsehole.” He slaps my arse for bitching at him and walks away.

  “You deserve it and more.”

  “Oh, fuck off, Dyson.” My mood goes downhill, but I know I have to bite my tongue. For now.

  Four hours lat
er, and my house looks like nothing ever happened. Batch and his construction company came and fixed all my windows and front door. The dining table was fixed and looks better than before. The same with my cabinets and bookcase.

  I got to sit and watch as these men worked. Some took their shirts off and oh fuck me, there was a fuck full of eye candy to ogle. Tattoos, beards and muscles. What more could a girl want?

  I can tell you now that I will be keeping the windows closed for a few days to keep their smell in my house. I know some people think the smell of smoke, sweat and leather would be disgusting, but, oh hell, it’s like sweet perfume to me.

  I love it. That manly smell. Yum.

  Placing the last cup of coffee on the tray, I carry it through the house and out the front door. The brothers are all relaxing on the grass outside my house, next to the gravel path.

  “Boys, coffee and tea.”

  I bunch of ‘thanks’ and ‘ta’s’ go around as they each take a mug, not bothering to check how it was made. I’d just refused to give them a beer, knowing they are driving their bikes and vans when they leave here.

  “Thanks, baby. We’re all done, and we’ll be going when the girls get here.” Wes winks at me, and I stiffen again. He didn't reply to me when I told him I didn't want any club girls here at my house. Hell no. I go to start venting at him, but a car drives towards my house.

  I frown at the car as Wesley wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him and kissing the side of my head. My body stiffens, and I step away from him, but he ignores my mood.

  “I think you need these girls, babe.” I feel safe in his arms, so I melt into him, watching the car some to a complete stop. My body sags when I see Ana and Zarah climb out and smile at me. Zarah comes straight for me, pulling me from Wesley and wrapping me in a hug. My heart swells, knowing that this woman and her sister have taken me on as a friend and aren’t bitching at me for being after their men. Not that Zarah has a man... yet.