Her Hot Ride: A gripping and sexy biker mc romantic suspense novel

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Her Hot Ride: A gripping and sexy biker mc romantic suspense novel Page 12

by Van Fleet, Heather


  “You’re like my middle-school kids, actually. Pretending to be a badass on the outside, while on the inside, you don’t know what you want out of life.”

  I blinked. What in the actual…? “I ain’t some pubescent teenage kid, JP. Got the major cajones to prove it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not on the outside, no.”

  “Or in my jeans.”

  “Yes. I suppose that too.” She covered her face, lowering her hands just enough to where I could see her eyes as she spoke again. “But inside, I know you long for the same things I do.”

  “Sex and whiskey?” I winked.

  “Just… ugh. Never mind. I’m tired of trying to have a serious conversation with you only for you to bring up body parts or sex in the end.” She huffed and turned away from me as she finished up the rest of her food, eyes everywhere but on me.

  I waited for her to continue playing this game we were so good at, but even after she finished chewing the last bite of her sandwich, Emily didn’t speak. It was like she’d sunk back into whatever hole she’d once hid inside and was planning on staying there until I forced her out again.

  I gritted my teeth. Did she get off on this? The I’m gonna ignore Archer until I can get under his skin angle? Yes, I knew it was my fault for her shift in mood, but I didn’t want to apologize because I was fucking terrified of what would happen if I did. If I let her in, let her stay under my skin as someone other than Hawk’s annoying little sister, then I had a real bad feeling I wouldn’t be able to get her out.

  That was why I pushed this back into the safe zone, the back and forth I could handle. My hope was she would take the bait, otherwise this was gonna be one long-ass trip to Kentucky.

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when you’re pissed? Especially with all those freckles across your cheeks. They get darker whenever your skin gets red.”

  Her eyes narrowed, staying glued to whatever thing she was looking at across the park. “Actually, yes.” She picked up her yogurt this time and slurped in a mouthful between her lips, pointing the end of her spoon at me. “People have said, ‘You’re cute, Emily,’ my entire life.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” I scratched at my jaw, frowning.

  Emily finished another two spoonfuls before she spoke again. “No. It’s not. But I’d much rather be sophisticated and beautiful. Not cute.”

  “But you are cute.” This was why women confused me so damn much.

  “Yeah. I was also the cute kid growing up. The girl people looked at for a minute and thought, She’s sweet, then tended to forget what I looked like or who I even was come the next time we met up.” She shrugged, and I could tell by the tone of her voice this wasn’t a subject she wanted to talk about, but I did. Because, well, shit like this fascinated me.

  “Saying someone’s cute is a compliment,” I told her.

  “It also means that someone is forgettable.”

  Forgettable? Is that what she thought? What the hell kind of dude was that Sam guy to make her feel like she was forgettable? I opened my mouth to tell her she wasn’t just cute, but also goddamn stunning. That whenever she came into a room, people looked, especially me, but I couldn’t get the words out. And from the slump of her shoulders when she looked away again, I could tell she was disappointed.

  I’d teased her once about looking like a table when she was sixteen because that was the first thought that had come to my mind when we’d met. But as a guy whose only compliments to women had ever been, You’ve got some fantastic tits, or, Your pussy tastes like sweet honey, I wasn’t really sure what to say when I saw her. She’d reminded me of ma. A shit ton. So much so that it’d royally fucked me up inside for a few minutes when our eyes had first met. My mouth had blurted out words my brain and heart had known wouldn’t be too nice.

  I cleared my throat and grabbed the other half of my sandwich, taking it down in three bites. Wasn’t even hungry, but anything was better than the thoughts currently running through my mind.

  She quirked an eyebrow at me, smiling a little more. “Not hungry, huh?”

  “I’m a man. You put food in front of me, I eat it.”

  She laughed and tucked some hair behind her ear at the same time, which immediately drew my eyes to her neck. The scratches there were fading, yeah, but I could still see them clearly. Deep down I knew she was lying to me about what Chop had done to her that night. In turn, that had me wondering again what the hell else she might be keeping from me. Like, what if I got to Kentucky only to get ambushed? Fuck, though. Em wouldn’t do that. Would never side with her old man.

  Or would she? If it meant getting her ma free.

  It should have been easy to trust my best friend’s sister. But Emily wasn’t a Lattimore. She was a Lincoln through and through, just like her mother.

  She took a drink of her water and cleared her throat, folding her hands on the table like a businesswoman ready to go to war. “So. I wanted to say thank you by the way.”

  I frowned. “For what?”

  “For what you did back in the store with Sam.” She lifted her bottle and took another drink. Tiny wet droplets spilled down her chin, too quickly for her to wipe them away. My mind went south the second that tiny bit of water did. What would her skin taste like if I lapped up those drops with my tongue?

  I shuddered at the image forming in my mind then pushed it away to refocus on her face.

  “Are you listening to me?” She laughed a little, but her brows were all pushed together like she was confused.

  So am I, JP. So am I.

  “Yeah. I’m listening.”

  “Anyways, I feel like I should clarify things a little when it comes to Sam. You see, he was good to me the entire time we were together. And there’s no denying the fact that we were in love.”

  There was that word: love. Who the hell loved someone who judged them for who their parents were? If love meant dealing with that kind of backlash, then it was all the more reason for me to not ever fall for someone.

  “He was never okay with my mom or the biker club though,” she continued.

  “You’re not a fan of the club either,” I challenged.

  “Touché,” she said with a shrug. “Buuuut I dealt with it because I love my mom, you know? Sam was constantly ragging on me about how we should just stop going to see her because you never knew when we’d run into trouble.” She rolled her eyes and played with the plastic wrap from her sandwich, her cheeks going a little red. Almost like she was ashamed to admit it out loud. I just wasn’t sure which part made her feel that shame. Was it Sam? Or the club? This was about the time I wished I had a manual on women and what their words actually meant.

  I decided right then that I didn’t like it when JP looked ashamed. It made my chest tighten. My hands clench under the table too. No idea why that was the thing, but it was. It so, so was, and it sucked.

  “We need to go.” I pushed myself up from the table.

  “Wait.” She blinked up at me, stood too, then rushed to my side, where she touched my upper arm. Held her hand there was more like it. “Why did you tell Sam you were my boyfriend?”

  My jaw clenched. Was she that oblivious? The guy was looking at her like she was the scum on the bottom of his shoe. The shit he forgot to wipe off. It could’ve been because he was still in love with her and was fighting it, or it could’ve been because he wasn’t the prince she probably thought he was. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood to tell her the truth—that I didn’t feel like she should have to stand there and explain herself to that fucker when it was none of his business what was going on in her life now.

  “It was fun. That’s why. Anything to get under your skin.” I gathered the crap we needed to take with us and stuffed it under my arm. The things we’d be throwing away, I shoved into the empty bag.

  “But you could’ve just said you were my friend. Or a ride.”

  I gritted my teeth, ignoring her question as I headed back toward my bike across the grassy park. “Let’s
go. It’s gonna storm.”

  A loud clap of thunder sounded in the distance, taunting us.

  “Archer, stop. Please,” she called after me.

  I wouldn’t stop. Not this time. I was so engrossed with her today that whenever she said or did something, I forgot I was sitting in one place listening to her. I also forgot what we were doing. And that, to me, was more dangerous than anything else. It meant that I was feeling something. For her. Not lust either. Because lust could be dealt with—there was a remedy to lust: sex.

  At my bike, I re-tied her duffel bag a little tighter to the seat, then unlocked the helmet from the handles. Once I sat down, I held an arm out with the helmet, waiting for her to approach.

  “Hey, what’s going on? Did I say something to upset you? Do something wrong? Archer,” she tried again. “Answer me. Please.”

  My jaw clenched… and I still ignored her. Maybe I really was like the middle-school kids she taught.

  “Fine. Never mind then.” She tore the helmet out of my hands and sat on the back of the bike.

  While I waited for her to get ready, I wondered if that douchebag ex of hers had ever gotten this worked up over her for no reason. Guy was smart enough not to, right? He seemed like the type, all well-dressed and decent-looking, if not a little dorky. The type who preferred nothing but a missionary fuck. I could almost betcha he didn’t ever have thoughts about spanking her ass like I currently was. No reason for the image in my mind either, other than the fact that I wanted to see the white curves turn pink by my hand, only so I could soothe the heated skin with my mouth.

  Screw that shit.

  It was bad enough feeling the pain in my chest. Getting my dick more involved with this woman was… well… shit.

  Who was I kidding? My dick had been involved since the second I’d laid eyes on her bright-red cardigan that night in the club—probably long before that if I was being honest with myself.

  “Hey!” she hollered at my back and snapped her fingers in front of my face. “I need help. I can’t get this stupid thing on.” And now she sounded pissed at me. Great. A pissed-off Emily was a sexy Emily.

  I turned to straddle my bike the other way, which wasn’t too smart. Because my dick was currently like steel, which made it really fucking hard—no pun intended—to move and be just inches from the glorious spot my big guy was intrigued with between her thighs.

  “Goddamn cardigans,” I mumbled under my breath, and I shut my eyes for a second, trying to check myself.

  “What’d you just say?”

  “Nothing. Come here.” I opened my eyes again and leaned forward to toy with the strap beneath her chin. She didn’t argue or bother asking me what was wrong again, which I was thanking Christ for. But I could still feel her gaze on me the whole time. I wanted to ask what she was looking at, but what if I didn’t like her answer?

  I scowled and patted the side of her helmet when I finished, eyes up, zeroing in on her face. She was smiling a little, relaxed again. And there went that thud in my heart like before.

  “Thanks. Guess you gotta be a genius to figure this thing out.”

  I wasn’t good or smart, nowhere near a genius. But I didn’t correct her. “You ready?”

  She nodded. “As I can be knowing I’ll be straddling this bike again for God only knows how long.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to say, I got something else you can straddle instead, but the fact that my insides were all weirded out over this woman right now kept me from saying shit.

  “You get tired, tell me.”

  “I will.”

  I turned around, fighting the urge to look at her as I did. I started the engine, revved it loud. Then like she was meant to be there, Emily wrapped her arms around my waist and set her chin on my shoulder, like she’d been riding behind me for years, not days. Normally, you didn’t put a chick on the back of your bike unless she was old lady material. And Emily? She was about as far from old lady material as a man could ask for.

  Yet the thought of anyone else on the back of my bike suddenly didn’t feel right. Emily, with her arms wrapped around my waist and her head to my back? It almost felt like she was meant to be there.

  Whatever the fuck that meant.

  “This is a train caboose,” Emily nearly squealed in excitement the second she jumped off the back of my bike. She unbuckled her helmet and handed it over, not even looking at me as she headed toward the door.

  “Yeah, no shit,” I muttered.

  I untied her bag and threw it over my shoulder before following her. We’d wound up at some wildlife preservation park. Not an ideal location to lay our heads, but we were much closer to Pops now, so I couldn’t complain. What I did like about the setup was the fact that we were surrounded by woods. Sheltered from the outside highways and roads. Nobody would ever expect to find us here, honestly. Not my brothers or anyone out there who could be associated with Pops. Plus, it was the cheapest place I could find in a 100-mile radius that wasn’t booked. Apparently, it was the beginning of fair season or something. I hadn’t figured we’d be forced to stop and sleep as much as we had been, but the rain had been relentless.

  “The man said there might be buffalo outside our door in the morning, did you hear him?” Emily smiled from over her shoulder, sliding the key into the lock.

  “Yippee.” I smirked, thankful that my bad mood wasn’t as crappy as it had been. Thanks to the last few hours on my bike, I was calmer with a clearer head and my goals locked in place once more. Get Emily to her mom, take Pops down, and hopefully stay alive while I was doing it.

  “I need the shower first,” she told me. More like ordered.

  “Whatever.” I couldn’t even muster up a dirty joke about sharing the shower to conserve water. Regardless, her taking a shower might give me time to jerk one out too. That’d help even more. Not that it was ideal. If anything, it was kind of sick that I’d have to do it. But something had to give now that we’d be spending the night together in the same space again.

  I flicked the light on as we stepped up a short, narrow staircase. The caboose was skinny, to the point where I had to turn sideways to get through the aisle. There was a bathroom first thing up front, then a kitchen, and two twin beds set up across from one another toward the back.

  “I call the one on the right,” Emily said.

  I sat across from her, bouncing, or trying to. There was a serious lack of spring in the mattress. “I won’t fit here,” I muttered, more to myself, as I looked at the length. This was a bed made for a freaking toddler. Well, more like a person under six foot.

  “Yes, you will.” Emily rolled her eyes then grabbed something from her bag. “It’s only for a night, remember?” She pointed her shampoo bottle at me.

  “Whatever,” I mumbled, leaning back on the bed.

  The floor rocked as she moved toward the bathroom; the entire place was unstable. I wasn’t high maintenance by any means, but damn… I wasn’t feeling this place.

  The second I heard the water start up, along with Emily’s humming, I relaxed against a pillow and shut my eyes. My feet hung over the end, boot laces catching on the metal. I kicked the damn things off, prepping to do what was necessary to get me out of this fucked-up mess that was my head. These walls were like paper, though, so I needed to keep it down.

  Licking my lips, I shut my eyes and unzipped my pants. I hadn’t jerked off in months, mostly because I’d had a steady diet of women to keep me busy. The thing was, even if one of my monthlies magically popped up offering their services, I didn’t think I could take them up on it.

  Why? Because the only image I could conjure in my mind right then was one of a brunette. The one currently humming in the shower.

  I listened for a minute, frowning as she hit a low note. The sultry sound sent a wave of heated energy through my gut and straight to my dick, sounding more like whispers and moans than music.

  I shuddered, sliding my hand into my pants. With a hard squeeze, I gripped my cock, stroked it once,
lips parting as her singing stopped altogether. The shower continued though, and in my mind I could imagine her in there, fingers sliding over her breasts, down her belly, settling in between her thighs, where she’d be wet because, well, she’d be thinking about me.

  Yeah. I was a dirty son of a bitch, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what my problem was either. It wasn’t just the fact that I was horny. Nor was it the fact that I hadn’t put a drop of whiskey in my mouth all day. I was pissed because at some point within the last twenty-four hours, Emily taking that stick out of her ass had made me want to do something else down there instead.

  Sweet, tight, wet heat… I jerked faster, biting on my lip. I mumbled her name under my breath, jerking faster, up, down, the friction almost enough to get me there. Just another minute…

  “Hey, I need your help. I couldn’t get the water to shut off because… Oh, God.”

  I jerked my head back, cringing when I saw Emily. She was crouched on the floor, her face buried in her hands.

  “Good Christ, JP. What’re you doing down there?” I chuckled, despite the fact that she was ten feet away, had just caught me jerking off, and was now hiding her face like a kid.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She lifted her head, eyes zeroing in on my crotch. Seconds later she stood and spun around, facing the bathroom again.

  I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about being caught. If anything, things had just got a hell of a lot more intriguing.

  “Already in the cardigan?” I smirked, tucking my cock back inside my jeans but leaving the button undone. He was angry and hard, deprived as hell, too. I’d just have to pay him special attention later in the shower.

  “Did you, um…?” She cracked her neck from side to side.

  “Did I put my dick away?”

  “Uh huh. Yup.”

  “I did. You’re safe.”

  Slowly, she turned back around and made her way over to her bag, making sure to keep her eyes everywhere but on me.

  “What, you scared of me now? Afraid of what you might see?”

 

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