MC Romance: Ride of Their Lives (BBW, Military Romance, Alpha Male) (Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance Book 1)

Ride of Their Lives

 

By Raina Wilde

© Copyright 2016 by Raina Wilde—All rights reserved.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

 

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Ride of Their Lives
Chapter 1:

Chris Ryker was bored. Bored and frustrated. The meeting this afternoon with his commanding officers had not gone as planned.

For a month already he had been waiting for the clearance to return to active duty. He had argued passionately the he was ready to return to the action, ready to continue to do his duty for his country.

For Chris, there was nothing else. No other purpose. He was not looking for a quiet life. He had no family, and no intention of starting one of his own. This time off was killing him. He had no reason, no enjoyment, being stateside.

The military had turned his life around, changed it for the better, but at the moment he felt as if it had abandoned him.

In his youth, Chris had found himself an active member of a local, ruffian biker gang. When he started to see his life turning toward a pattern of crime, Chris decided that things were going to have to change if he wanted a future that he could be proud of.

He joined the military straight out of high school and never looked back.

Now, he was a Navy Seal sharpshooter. Or, at least he was until the incident. Now, he was not sure what he was. He was impatiently awaiting the conclusion of an investigation into recent events so that he could continue to do his job.

On their last tour of duty, three men in Chris’s unit had been killed, including his best friend. The entire unit, except for Chris.

While the investigation ensued, Chris was on a temporary probation.

To make matters worse, his refusal to talk about the incident had lead his commanders to order PTSD counseling.

He knew what their motives were, and he did not like them one bit.

It did not matter. Talking was a waste of time. The very last thing that he wanted to talk about was what had happened in Afghanistan.

For the time being, without the distraction of work, there was nothing that mattered to him. Nothing perhaps, except his Harley.

He steered the motorcycle toward a local military bar that sat just outside of the boundaries of base. He parked up against the curb and entered the bar.

What he really needed was a drink.

He did not need therapy. He needed to be back on a plane with a new team. He needed to forget and to move on.

He ordered a shot and downed it in one gulp. The burn felt more real than anything else had in the past month.

Barkley, one of his commanding officers, had recommended the idea of therapy as a way to deal with the sudden loss of his best friend, and the two other men that Chris had trusted most in the world.

He scoffed.

The last thing that he needed was to talk to some uppity military shrink who would make all sorts of inaccurate assumptions about his feelings and motivations. There was nothing to interpret. Nothing to understand. He knew exactly what had happened and that made him all the more determined to keep the secret to himself.

Several minutes later the doors opened to admit a rowdy group that made its way to the far end of the bar. Chris kept his head down and stared blankly into the depths of his newly filled glass. He was not really in the mood for interaction. He did not want to trade war stories or give advice to those aspiring to be the next Navy Seal.

That was inevitably how these things always went. He would return home and someone would recognize him, his reputation carrying a heavy weight of its own.

Today, he silently wished that he would not be recognized. The small community of the military base made it difficult to maintain any sort of anonymity, but over the last month he had been fairly successful at remaining in the shadows.

The stool beside him creaked as an occupant took possession with a heavy sigh. Chris felt a short stab of frustration that his quiet corner of the bar had been infiltrated. He was too used to women throwing themselves at him after hearing about his impressive feats in the field, to have much tolerance for the event today.

The faint, exotic scent that wafted his way told him that the occupant was distinctly female.

He wrapped his hand around the tumbler, threw back the shot, and had almost determined to leave, when she spoke.


Do you mind if I sit here?

Her voice was strained with exhaustion and something else that Chris could not identify.

I

d rather not be around the crowd, if I can avoid it.

Chris turned his head and stared into a pair of the darkest brown eyes that he had ever seen. Perhaps it was the lighting, but he could barely determine the difference between the iris and the pupil. Something about her unhinged him. There was an intensity, and a deep sadness, that had him glued to his seat.

He shrugged as if her presence did not concern him. She settled a little more comfortably into the stool, but the tension in her shoulders remained.

He waited for her to say something, to ask him any of the normal questions that usually initiated his encounters with a female, but they never came. Chris watched her out of the corner of his eye for several moments before relief washed over him. She had no idea who he was. There was not even the faintest sign of recognition.

She attempted to catch the bartender

s attention, but he was busy with the crowd of cackling fools that were wreaking havoc across the way.


What you drinking?

He asked on a whim. His gaze quickly took in the details of the female beside him. She had tanned skin, midnight hair that was tied in a bun at the base of her neck, and enough curves to keep a man occupied for a lifetime. She looked like she needed a drink, and Chris realized that he wanted to be the one to buy it for her.

She smoothed her hands over her hair and released a long sigh as she contemplated her answer. Eventually, she turned toward him with wary eyes and spoke.

“I’m really just here to relax.” She made a motion with her hand as if his offer was unnecessary.

Chris felt a small smile cross his lips. “Aren’t we all?”

Her laugh revealed a nervousness with the conversation that intrigued him.

“It’s my first night in town.” She explained. “I’m not really here to…”

“It’s just a drink.” He shrugged and turned away. Finally, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye with a charming half-smile. “I’m highly trained, and house broken. In case you were wondering.”

 

Chapter 2:

Natalie threw back her head with laughter. She had grown up on military bases. Natalie and her five brothers had followed her father around the country as he pursued his extensive military career. She was used to the generic formalities of the all-too-serious military breed. This guy was funny. It was refreshing.


Fine, you may buy me a drink.

She acquiesced.

The man beside her signaled for the bartender, who appeared promptly before them. As the men spoke, Natalie took a moment to evaluate her new acquaintance.

He was attractive. Devastatingly.

He had hair the color of cappuccino that was overlong for a traditional military cut that, when combined with the shadow of a beard, made him look particularly mysterious and enticing. The first thing that Natalie had noticed was the striking color of his green eyes. It was an unusual color, one that she had never seen on a male face before.

It was not uncommon for Natalie to feel small next to the over-muscular style of a military male. Despite her naturally voluptuous body, and five-foot-ten frame, she could already tell that she would be dwarfed by the man beside her.

The bartender delivered two straight shots to the pair and Natalie could see the test for what it was. She kept her face straight, though internally she was laughing. She had grown up in a house full of men. A tomboy since birth, the scent of the liquor was one that she was well accustomed to.

She raised one eyebrow, picked up the glass, and waited for the man to do the same. She nodded her head, downed the shot, and watched as the look of pure masculine approval crossed his features.

“Natalie.” She introduced herself, offering a hand which he enveloped in a firm shake.

“Chris.” He provided in return.

Natalie ordered another round of shots and repayment for the first, and so the night began.


So, what is it that you do, Natalie?

Chris asked.

Natalie shook her head and toyed with the napkin in front of her.


I came here to avoid thinking about work.

She smiled. The truth was, that tomorrow was her first day on the job and she was more than a little nervous.


Fair enough.

He smiled.

I

m not usually one for talking about the job either.


I don

t know that I

ve ever met a sailor who didn

t like to brag.

She narrowed her eyes at him and spoke with a tone that oozed sarcasm.


You

re a brat, aren

t you?

He leaned one arm against the bar top and turned in his seat to face her.


Excuse me?

She tapped her shot glass against his and downed the burning liquid.

He spread his hands in the air, palms upward, as if pointing out an obvious fact.


You

re a military brat.

He repeated.

Natalie leaned one elbow on the countertop and rested her fist behind her ear. She narrowed her eyes at the stranger. Never before had she been pegged so easily.


What makes you say that?

She asked.


It

s your demeanor. He explained.


Oh, big words!

She laughed so that he would know that she meant to tease and not insult.

“See!” He pointed at her and laughed in return. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You aren’t nervous, annoyed, or interested at all. And you certainly aren’t impressed.”

She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to explain.


I don

t mean to generalize, but that is the trend for women in these bars. You

re a lifer! It’s written all over you.”

“I’m so sorry that I’m not stroking your ego enough.” She laughed.

He smiled in return. “Actually,” Chris admitted. “It’s a relief.”

As the night went on they continue to talk while purposefully steering clear of any obvious personal information. Shot for shot they matched one another and Natalie found herself instinctively drawn to Chris.

It was an unexpected turn of events for her first night in town. The anxiety of starting a new career had drove her into the bar and, while she was completing a lifelong dream, she could not deny that her nerves had gotten the best of her.

Chris

s lighthearted banter and obvious charm were doing wonders toward calming her nerves. As the night wore on she found herself relaxing and actually enjoying herself. Surprisingly, Chris seemed to be enjoying himself as well.

She was accustomed to meeting flirtatious men, both on and off the bases, but there was something different about this. An excitement, an anticipation, that made her feel suddenly alive.

Neither of them could claim that the alcohol had not taken its toll. They laughed, joked, and passed the hours as if they were old friends and, despite the sexual tension that seemed to pass between them, they both found, in each other, the relaxation that they both had been looking for.

Sometime later, Natalie decided that she had better head home. She had an early day in the morning and could not afford to have any complications on her first day.

Chris gallantly offered to walk her out to the parking lot and Natalie, uncharacteristically, accepted. She did not know what she expected, but the faint flutter in her stomach told her that maybe she was anticipating the kiss that she had been fantasizing about all night.

The cool night air felt exhilarating against her heated skin. She walked over toward the darkened corner of the lot, where she had parked. They walked in silence, but Natalie was acutely aware of Chris

s presence beside her. She wondered if he was going to ask for her number. Part of her wanted him to. The other part, did not want to mar the perfection of the night with the reality of another meeting. Perhaps, it was best to leave this night as a happy memory of a pleasant encounter with a perfect stranger.

She heard Chris’s sharp intake of breath and turned to him with a sudden look of alarm.


Look at that bike!

He gasped. Natalie followed his gaze to the parked motorcycle that he was practically drooling over.

She felt a slow smile spread over her face.

Do you like it?

Maybe it was the alcohol, but something inside of her wanted to toy with him, to give him a little scare.


Do I like it?

He stepped closer to the bike and examined its features.

It

s amazing.

Natalie threw her leg over the motorcycle and settled into the seat, she felt her jeans stretch to accommodate her form and knew that was an image that Chris would find appealing.


Natalie!

Chris exclaimed. He tried to shoo her off the bike but she just laughed.

Get off of it. You can

t go touching other people

s bikes. If someone comes out here they

re going to be furious.

She continued to laugh as he anxiously tried to coax her off of the bike. The fear that it might topple over was written plainly across his face.


I

m serious!

He placed one hand on the handlebar to hold the bike steady and another under her elbow as he tried to guide her off of the contraption.

She pulled her keys from her pocket and twirled them on her index finger.

“Am I supposed to be mad that you’re touching my bike?

She giggled.

It took a few moments for her words to settle in, but eventually Chris

s face turned from panic, to shock, to awe.


This is yours?

His words conveyed his disbelief.


All the way down to the tailpipe.

She crossed her arms under her breasts and stared at him with a knowing grin. She watched his eyes flicker from the hint of exposed cleavage, to the bike beneath her, and back up to her face.


You’re trouble.

He laughed.

Natalie shrugged and climbed off of the motorcycle to stand in front of him.


That

s what my brothers tell me.

She smiled.

He nodded at the bike parked beside her own and informed Natalie that it belonged to him. The pair of Harleys sat in the darkened corner of the parking lot, their owners reveling in their shared passion.

Eventually, Natalie made a move that signified it was time to make her exit. Without warning, Chris

s hand snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. He hesitated just long enough for her to protest, but she did not. A moment later, his mouth covered her ears in a salty, sweet kiss that did little to conceal the passion that was burning inside of them both.

Natalie could not explain what was happening, nor did she want to take the time to evaluate the situation. She was not prone to frivolous actions and, while she did not know Chris well enough to speak on his behalf, she would guess that he had a similarly serious nature.

She allowed her hands to snake up and around his shoulders. The muscles beneath his shirt were rigid and well-defined. His hands on her lower back pulled her closer than she would have thought humanly possible, and yet, it was not enough.

The doors of the bar opened and they fumbled their way further into the darkness. Shaded by trunk of a nearby tree, Natalie found her back pressed against the ragged bark. Headlights moved off in the distance and the passerby never suspected a thing.

Chris’s mouth moved against the hollow of her neck and Natalie felt a shiver trail down her spine. She had never felt this responsive before. She had never felt the cry and urge so deep in her bones, as if resisting would be the death of her.

His hands crept beneath the hem of her shirt and splayed across the smooth skin of her back. Natalie gasped and pressed her hips more firmly against him, the pressure of his erection between them was almost painfully hard.

She wanted to feel his hands in other places. Maybe it was a result of the shots, but Natalie felt without a doubt that she needed this. Maybe the stresses of completing her residency had snowballed. Maybe it had simply been too long since she had allowed herself the pleasures of a sexual encounter. Maybe Chris was just too damn sexy to resist. Either way, she did not want him to stop whatever it was that he was doing to drive her so close to madness.

She tore at his shirt, tugging it roughly over his head and eliciting a deep, rumbling laughter from Chris that made the heat inside of her grow.

He leaned away and looked straight into her eyes.

“Natalie…” He began. “I just want to be perfectly clear…” She could tell that he was having a hard time controlling the urge to continue. Especially, since she was purposefully ignoring him as she ran her fingertips down the rigid planes of his abdomen.

He released a quiet curse and grabbed her hands to prevent their trek downward.

“I don’t do serious.” His words rushed out in a burst of air.

Natalie cocked her head to the side and stared up at him. “Good.” She smiled. “Neither do I.”

He released her hands and with a primal growl was upon her once more. This time there was no hesitation. No questions, no answers. Just two people reveling in the sensations that were exploding inside of them.

Natalie felt her bra removed from beneath her shirt as if by magic. Still, she remained covered, but now his hands roamed freely beneath the thin fabric.

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