Riding the Wind: A Motorcycle Club Erotic Romance (6 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sarah decided to enter a program that the women’s shelter offered. Half therapy and half residential, they’d get her out of the apartment Ryan had paid for, and help her find a new place, a new job, and anything else she needed. She looked tired, but resolved.

Mrs. Clark completely ignored every attempt they made to thank her. She’d heard Sarah’s screams from upstairs and had put them together with building gossip to realize that she and her frying pan were needed.

Derek went back down to his bike for the pastries he’d bought. They were sort of smashed, but once the officers cleared out and Ryan was gone, the three of them devoured the hodgepodge of tastes and textures. Danni called Cole out of school. He would have gone, but she wasn’t sure she could stand to have him out of her sight today. When she said that to Derek, he nodded. Which made her heart melt all over again.

“Do you have leathers?” he asked, once she had Cole settled in front of a puzzle, along with his favorite snuggly. She glanced at him, her brain not connecting quite yet. Everything felt a little foggy, a little far away. “You know, chaps, a jacket, gloves?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I haven’t worn them in years, though.”

“Do they still fit?”

She considered. “The jacket should. The pants, no way in hell.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure.” She pulled it out of the depths of the closet she’d buried it in after Mickey left, and watched as Derek sat down on the couch, a respectful distance from Cole, and began to brush and clean her jacket. The smell of leather cleaner should have made her nervous, it always had before, but this time, it reminded her of the good days, when things had been easier, calmer. Derek worked with a quiet focus, and his hands were just the right balance of firm and gentle. Of course, that was no surprise.

“Walt’s staying,” he said, after a while.

“How’s his son?”

“Don’t know yet. Doctors still say it’s too close to call. But he says whichever way it goes, he’s staying. Says he’s had enough of the road. He says he’s going to open up a motorcycle repair shop.” There was a long pause, and she made herself wait through it. He spent a long time buffing out a particularly stubborn spot on her jacket--she couldn’t see anything wrong with it, but he was paying it a ferocious amount of attention--and then he took a breath so deep that it seemed to suck the air out of the room. “I’m not saying I’ll stay for you. I don’t think you’d trust that even if I said it. And I don’t know--a lot happened that put me on the road in the first place. But walking up those stairs, thinking you might have been hurt…” He turned his face up to her, and there were tears tracing down his cheeks. “I just want to know if you think it’s worth trying. Trying, and seeing what happens.”

She looked at Cole, at the beautiful boy she was doing a perfectly fine job of raising on her own. She looked at her life, the solid life she’d created, the life in which absolutely nothing was missing. And she knew in her heart that she could make a space for him. That it was, in fact, worth a try.

She leaned down and pushed the jacket out of his hands. She pressed her lips to his almost delicately, and let him read her agreement in her tongue, flitting lightly against his lower lip before she pulled away.

***

That night, she put Cole to bed in his room while Derek sat on the couch. As she walked back out to the living room, he opened his arms to her, and she snuggled into them easily. His hand stroked down her back, relaxing her for the first time since Ryan had burst through the door in the morning, letting the clenched aches and pains begin to subside. He stroked her hair, and she sighed into him, arching her back just a bit.

Which was why she noticed him shifting uncomfortably. She looked up at him from where she rested on his shoulder, and saw the flush in his ears. Looked down, and saw the bulge in his jeans. “Really?” she asked, chuckling.

“The fact that it was an awful morning doesn’t make me less of a man,” he leaned over and kissed her, less than gently, “or you any less gorgeous.”

She bit her lip for a moment before swinging into his lap, straddling him. His inhale was sharp and focused, and he didn’t seem to be sure where to put his hands. “Glad you noticed,” she said. “I was worried.”

He laughed, and then glanced towards Cole’s room. “You don’t have to--I get it. If it’s too much. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you, so at some point, you’re going to have to turn me down, if only so that you can get some sleep.”

Danni stretched, showing off her breasts. “I’ve been a single mother for five years. I can get by on shockingly little sleep.”

Afterwards, she wasn’t sure if it was shoving her boobs in his face, or grinding her hips against him, that did it. Either way, his face was pressed against her, his mouth searching for her nipples through the fabric of her bra and her shirt, his hands pulling her hips tight against him. She ran her hands down his back, loving the attention, loving the sensation of being alive after so much chaos.

“Bedroom,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to--” Everything was in his eyes. Everything. That he wanted this, that he wanted her, that he was vulnerable, that he was strong, that he’d hold her every step of the way, even if she changed her mind right now, but that he hoped to hell she wouldn’t.

“Please,” she said, and he didn’t argue any more. He stood up, carefully lifting her to her feet, and this time, he led the way to the little room at the end of the hall. She was incredibly conscious of the carpet against her feet, the soft breeze coming in the bedroom window as it brushed over her skin, pebbling her arms and shoulders as he eased her tank top over her head. He lifted her breasts again, as he had that first night, worshiping at them, teasing them with teeth and tongue and eager desire. She gasped for him, dampened for him, grinding against her own jeans and then, when he pulled her into his lap again, against the growing erection she could feel, even through all those layers of denim.

Danni stood up, and let him watch while she swayed her hips, gently pressing her jeans down over her ass and stepping out of them. Reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, and then letting it dangle down one arm and the other, falling to the floor. She stood before him in her panties, and let him be the one to do the honors there, pulling them down to the floor, kissing every inch of flesh as he passed.

And then he laid her down on the bed and stood to do his own striptease, pulling his shirt over his head in that one smooth motion that all guys could do, and no woman she’d ever known could manage. He stood in the moonlight for a moment, enjoying her enjoyment of the way the light reflected off the planes of his chest, and then she helped him with the fly of his jeans, kissing his flesh through his boxers before he even had his jeans lowered. His hips moved for her, and he balanced himself on her dresser as he enjoyed her. She reached inside, easing his cock out of his boxers and licking the tip while she pushed his jeans down.

“I don’t understand,” he said, his words heavy and broken, “how it is possible to want one person this much.”

“You don’t have to understand,” she said. “Just enjoy.”

“That I do,” he said. “No question.”

His boxers were on the floor in a heartbeat, and he stretched out on the bed, pulling her over his hips. He rocked under her, teasing her clit with his hard body as she hissed and moved with him.

“Don’t go slow,” she begged him. “Please. I want to feel you inside me, I want you to feel me tight all around you.”

“God, yes,” he said, and reached into the nightstand drawer for a condom.

And pulled out an empty box. He stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, while Danni stared at it, willing it to burst into flame.

“Seriously?” was all he said, and then he caught at her neck, tugging her down next to him, kissing her thoroughly. “Where is the closest drugstore?”

“Out the door, to the left, two blocks. But you don’t have to go out,” she said, reaching down and wrapping his erection in her hand. “There’s lots of other options, even if that’s off the table tonight.”

His eyes closed, and he moved in time with her hand for a minute before forcing his eyes open and kissing her again. “Yes,” he said. “And another time, I will absolutely agree. But tonight, I want to know you’re safe. I want to know from the inside out. And that means condoms.” He kissed her again, tangling his tongue with hers and pressing her nipple tightly between his fingers. “Will you wait for me?”

She was soaking wet, and waves of insistent need were circling up from her clit through her belly and her thighs. Her nipples were sore and aching peaks, sharp enough to cut glass. “Are you asking me not to touch myself while you’re gone? Because I really don’t know if that’s possible.”

He watched her for a moment, then reached between her thighs, sampling her moisture with the expression of a scientist reaching outside to see if it was raining. She moaned and arched up for his hand, and he complied, slipping a single finger into her and letting her slip against his hand for a moment before he pulled back, ignoring her less-than-quiet protests.

“Yes, I can see how this would be upsetting,” he said, in a mock-high-brow voice that she hadn’t heard from him before. He kissed her on the tip of the nose. “You’ll just have to do the best you can. And, here.” He reached into her dresser drawer and pulled out a toy that she’d hoped he just hadn’t noticed. Cute and pink, with little rabbit ears, he turned it on for a moment to make sure the batteries worked -- she knew they would -- before he handed it to her. “This will keep you company while I’m gone.” He kissed her one more time, then shrugged back into his jeans without bothering with boxers, and pulled his shirt over his head while he headed out the door.

She felt almost embarrassed, lying there on the bed, naked, the toy in hand. God knew she’d played with it plenty of times over the years, and never felt shy about needing that release. She wanted to play, to keep this level of arousal pleasant so that they could pick up where they’d left off when Derek got back. It would probably take him ten minutes to walk to the store, ten minutes back. Assuming he didn’t take his bike. She wasn’t sure she could play for that long without coming until she was completely exhausted.

But waiting, waiting without touching, that was impossible. Still. Maybe better to save the big guns -- vibe -- for later.

She brought her left hand to her breast, pinching and teasing at her nipple, and let the right drift down between her thighs, circling through the moisture there, stroking gently at first, circling up around her clit once or twice, then going back to slow, even strokes. She could usually maintain this rhythm for a little while as she ran through her fantasies in her head, but this time, her hips were moving eagerly, dreaming of the man who’d just walked out the door. Her fingers picked up the pace without asking her, circling her clit, flicking and teasing over the most sensitive spots, and she was edging already, dancing along the cusp of the pleasure that she wanted, wanted so badly that it left her aching.

She let her fingers slide inside of her body, filling herself and keeping a smooth, slow rhythm going, but not enough to increase the swirling vortex of need. She closed her eyes and pictured Derek over her, his mouth on her breast, his fingers filling her, trailing back to press at the puckered opening of her ass, teasing inside just enough to make her feel entirely, completely, utterly full. Somewhere she could scream when she came, bucking and wild, and he would hold her breasts in his hand and rock into her and follow her over that peak.

She opened her eyes and forced herself to slow her hand, slow her breathing. The need was epic, deep-seated, so huge that it didn’t feel like it could ever be satisfied.

She reached for the toy and turned it on, pressing it first against her nipples, then teasing herself, dragging it over her belly and her thighs before she let it touch the nubbin between her thighs.

The sensation was so intense and deep that it almost pitched her over the edge, fully and entirely. Her teeth gritted together as she fought to keep breathing, to ride the pleasure without letting it complete, grunting and moaning and urgently heaving against the mattress.

She didn’t have the heart to move the toy, even as another wave started to build. Instead, she reached over and fumbled for her phone. He’d been gone more than ten minutes; he had to be on his way back. And -- yes, bless him -- at some point during the day he’d programmed his number into the phone, along with a ridiculous selfie. She hit the speed dial, and then tried to breathe through another wave of pleasure.