Snake Charmer (Rawkfist MC Book 2) (4 page)

Donovan

J
ourney barely touches her food and
eventually asks for a box. She can’t sit still and refuses to retain eye
contact. Unable to look away, I don’t mind her weird mood. These last few
months, I’ve endlessly daydreamed about the temperamental temptress from the
fair. Journey hasn’t disappointed.

Gentle women scare me. I don’t
understand them. Weak women scare me even more. My mother was the epitome of a
weak woman trying too hard to prove otherwise. She gave into every temptation.
Her angry demeanor was only a ruse to keep people at bay. Inside, she was a
broken child searching to fix a long forgotten hurt.

That’s what my old therapist told me
anyway.

All I knew was my mother wasn’t someone
I trusted with my safety, let alone my sanity. She changed from day to day. I
often suspected she only had me because everyone pushed her to have an
abortion. After all, the woman shaved the sides of her head simply to piss off
her father.

Arnold Mooney never learned reverse
psychology or learned how his wild daughter instantly did things for no other
reason except to upset him. She harmed herself in a million ways, only so she
could harm others.

Journey might seem similar with her
mood swings, but she’s not like my mother. Underneath her anger and then
silence, I sense this woman is a rock. No doubt Journey is the strong one in
her family, keeping everyone else safe and sane.

Knowing she’s unbreakable makes her
moments of weakness even sexier.

“Otto can eat my leftovers,” she says,
adjusting in her chair for the millionth time since sitting down.

“I heard you took in Becca’s kids. Not
a lot of people would.”

“No offense to their grandma who did
her best, but she doesn’t have a stellar track record with raising kids. Becca
is a turd sniffer, Otto was on his way to becoming a thug, and Matilda would have
ended up in an abusive relationship by the time she was sixteen.”

“Astrid’s ex-husband was abusive.
Everyone knew he was, but she wouldn’t press charges.”

“She’s a victim. They can’t shake it
off. It’s why the kids push her around. Matilda learned to be weak by watching
her grandma and Otto learned to push people around by watching his mom. They
thought they had to choose between being a victim or an abuser. Hopefully,
they’ll learn how most people fall in between those two extremes.”

I lean back in the chair and smile at
her. My gaze studies the curve of her frowning lips. I notice a hint of
freckles under her makeup. Her eyes are green today. When I pulled her over,
they were blue. I wonder what they’ll be after we get sweaty in my bed.

“Do you like going to the movies?” I
ask.

“No.”

“What else do people do on dates?”

“I don’t know.”

“A douche in my department took a date
on a hike. Want to walk around the woods and point at leaves?”

Journey fights a smile. She so
desperately wants to remain pissed, but I know she smiles easily. I remember
how she was with her sisters and mother at the fair. They laughed over the
dumbest shit, and I’d envied their relationship.

“I don’t think we should go on another
date,” Journey lies.

“But if we don’t, you’ll miss me. Soon,
you’ll break traffic laws, just hoping I’ll pull you over.”

A grinning Journey shakes her head.
“I’ll survive somehow.”

“What are you so scared of?”

“The same thing you are.”

Nodding, I throw cash down on the table
for the bill and tip.

“Let’s head out so you can get your
leftovers in the fridge.”

Journey stands up, looking uncertain
again. She’s in a hurry to end the date while also wanting to stick close to
me. I gesture for her to take the lead.

We walk outside to the quiet parking
lot. Once Journey sets the boxed pizza into the passenger seat of her SUV, she
turns to me and frowns.

“Thanks for dinner. Sorry, it wasn’t a
love match.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmur, reaching out to
caress her soft lips.

Call it my cop instincts, but I know
she’s about to move before she moves a muscle. Lacking finesse, Journey lunges
for me. Cupping my face, she plants a powerful kiss on my lips. I never
hesitate, unsure how long her passion will last.

My hands grip her hips, snuggling her
closer. She tastes like pizza sauce with a hint of peppermint gum. My tongue
slides against her, slowing her hungry response.

Journey suddenly steps away and frowns
at me. “This isn’t happening. You’re awful, and I kinda hate you.”

“Yeah,” I say, snagging her shirt and
tugging her against me.

Moaning as her lips open for me,
Journey wraps her arms around my waist and grabs my ass cheeks with both hands.
I hadn’t been hungry in the restaurant, but I’m starving now. Journey tastes
better than anything I’ve had in my thirty-three years.

Journey disengages our lips and
mumbles, “No.”

“Okay,” I whisper, kissing her neck.

Cupping my face again, she guides my
lips back to hers. She kisses me hard, pushing me against her car. I swear
she’s ready to tear off my clothes and have her way with me right here. The
thought of such a thing makes me smile.

Nearly jumping backward, Journey shakes
her head. “Stay away from me.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m not impressed.”

“Come on, Journey,” I say, shoving my
hands into my pockets and bumping my raging hard-on. “You’re a little
impressed.”

Closing her eyes, she exhales slowly.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re having fun. Why make a big deal
out of it?”

Journey opens her eyes and glares at
me. “It’s all just a lark for you, isn’t it?”

“What’s a lark mean?”

“It means you don’t give a shit.”

“If I was only looking for fun and
games, I could find several much more agreeable women to play with. You’re a
handful but certainly worth it.

Journey looks at her hands before
glancing around as if remembering we’re in public.

“You’re thinking about how my ass felt,
aren’t you?” I tease while fishing out my car keys. “Next time, I’ll grab your
ass so we’ll be even.”

“There’ll be no next time.”

“Of course, there will be. I’ll pick
you up at your place on Saturday afternoon, and we’ll do that hiking thing.”

“I don’t want to hike,” she mutters and
then adds more strongly, “Or spend time with you.”

“I’m thinking around two,” I say,
stepping back toward my Jeep. “I’ll say hi to your sisters and let them torment
me. I’ll say hi to Otto and let him know I’m not a bad guy stealing away his
new mommy. It’ll be damn heartwarming.”

“If you show up, I won’t answer the
door.”

“We’ll see,” I say, wanting a kiss
before we go our separate ways. Though I sense Journey wants one too, she’s
just as likely to take a swipe at me if I make a move. “Drive safe, Journey.”

A frowning Journey watches me climb
into my Jeep and drive away. I know she’s confused as hell about our first
date. I’m a little uncertain too, but we both know damn well that she’ll answer
the door when I come over on Saturday.

Journey

I
arrive home in a state of melancholy.
Who am I to be in the dumps over a man? I’m not an emotional type of woman. I
don’t cry at sad movies. When a neighbor's dog mauled our old cat, I was the
one to take Scully to get put down. Even our mother, the actual veterinarian,
couldn’t bear to watch the cat die. I, on the other, held her and gave the
signal for death shot.

I do the dirty work because I’m never a
sentimental softie. Except now I have all of these stupid feelings and no
coping mechanisms. I consider heading straight to my gym and working on the
heavy bag until my fists hurt.

I’m tired, though, and don’t feel like
working out. My plan is to slip into the house without bothering anyone. After
a shower, I can crawl into bed and sleep off my funk.

This plan flops when I open the front
door to find pajama-clad Christine, Justice, and Poppy waiting for me.

“How did it go?” Justice asks, tilting
her head. “Do you love him now?”

Poppy hugs me. “I’m sorry he doesn’t
love you back.”

Christine rolls her eyes. “You two are
brats. Let your sister breathe.”

With her head against my chest, Poppy
looks at our mother. “She’s breathing just fine. Heartbeat is steady too. Don’t
know about her blood pressure. Do you have one of those cuff things?”

“Sit down and ignore them,” Christine
says, taking my arm and maneuvering me around my sisters. “Did you have a nice
dinner?”

“It was all right.”

“Did you lose your virginity in his
car?” Poppy asks.

“What makes you think I’m a virgin?”

“Was it against a dumpster? Will I see
pictures of it online?”

“Knock it off,” Christine admonishes
Poppy who never looks at all scolded.

“We ate pizza and talked about our pets
and work. It was boring.”

“Then why do you love him already?”
Justice asks, resting her head on my lap and staring up at me. “Is it his eyes?
He has such beautiful eyes.”

“I’m standing right here,” Court
grumbles from the kitchen where he puts my leftovers in the fridge.

“I’ll make it up to you later, baby.
Wink, wink.”

“Who’s home with your kids?” I ask
Justice.

“She has a point. Bye, Court,” Poppy
says, waving at him from her spot on the floor. “We need to talk about vagina
issues. Get gone, penis bearer.”

Court wants to say something, but he’s
learned the hard way how engaging Poppy when she’s in a mouthy mood rarely ends
well. Leaving the house, he walks down the path to his place.

“He doesn’t want butt action,” Justice
tells me. “I misread his signals.”

“What does he want?”

“A baby.”

Sighing, I flick her nose. “I can see
how you might get those two things confused.”

“I don’t want a kid yet.”

Poppy crawls over to us. “I could super
glue your thighs closed if you think that would help.”

I reach out and pat her head. “I bet
it’s difficult to see your sisters all grown up when you’re such a baby, isn’t
it?”

“You’re the one getting nailed against
a dumpster.”

“We kissed good night. That’s it,” I
lie.

“You humped him a little, didn’t you?”
Justice asks, smiling knowingly. “It’s okay. We won’t judge you.”

My sisters share judgmental smiles
while I notice Christine studying us.

“What?”

“I hadn’t expected to lose you girls so
soon.”

“Are you frigging nuts?” I grumble,
keeping my voice down to avoid waking Otto. “I went on one date with a guy I’m
not even interested in. Would you all stop talking about insane crud like
love?”

“I think the whore doth protest too
much,” Poppy says, patting my hand.

The look I give Poppy sends her into
giggles, but she also moves away. We both know I’m ready to tackle and tickle
her. The kid’s big mouth regularly gets her into trouble. I worry about the day
when no one is around to save her ass from the consequences.

“Is Donovan a good kisser?” Justice
asks. “Did he tell you to call him Don or Van?”

“Yes and no.”

“I think I’ll call him Van. He looks
like the kind of guy Mom would have climbed into the back of a van with when
she was a teenager.”

“Your father was my first ‘If it’s a
rocking, don’t come a knocking’ experience. There was no van.”

“Only because your parents are scary,”
Poppy says, curling up with the cat in the corner. “If you had normal parents,
you’d have nailed half of the town.”

Christine flops into her chair. “Thanks
for your high opinion of me.”

“Don’t pout. This town is boring, and
you’re hot. What else were you going to do with your time?”

“The same thing you do with your time.”

“Play Xbox?”

“Nerd,” Christine says, grinning. “I
think it’s great everyone is dating.”

Justice and I share a knowing glance.
Our mother fears an empty house. If she loses us to men, her life will become
very tedious very quickly. Of course, she could always find a guy with a van
and do some of that rocking.

Donovan

K
itty hears me arrive home and sits
patiently at the back door until I let him inside. Then as if he’s got a rocket
up his ass, the Basset Hound runs from room to room, making sure no other
animal scented his territory. I stand in the kitchen and listen to him bouncing
around the house.

I dump my keys, phone, and wallet at
the front door before retiring to my room for a shower. I know I’ll need to rub
one out if I ever plan to sleep tonight. Journey Sheerer’s passionate kisses
left me hot and bothered. I suspect they did the same to her.

A year ago, I renovated the master
bathroom, and it still smells like fresh paint. I ignore the annoying odor once
the hot water hits me. Instead, I close my eyes and recall Journey’s sweet
scent.

Like so many nights, I stroke myself to
satisfaction with thoughts of a stranger. Even tonight, after talking for an
hour, I know nothing concrete about her. Journey treated our dinner like an
interrogation, and I kept expecting her to ask for her lawyer.

Her kisses told me more than her words,
and I know she wants me to keep chasing. Journey isn’t a tease. She’s like a
wild horse aching to be broken. I don’t know if I’ve got it in me to tame her,
but I certainly have no plans to walk away.

Resting in bed later, I consider if
Journey’s a virgin. I know her twenty-sixth birthday passed over the summer. In
this area, women view losing their cherries as badges of honor. A woman in her
mid-twenties and still a virgin is considered odd and a spinster. Journey,
though, wouldn’t sleep with a guy to make people happy.

At dinner, she pretended to pay
attention to everyone except me. I knew she was full of crap. Her mind was on
only me. Having Journey want me is the sexiest shit I’ve ever known.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, but I
finally doze off and dream of Journey shopping for flip flops. Despite the
stupidity of the dream, I’m relieved to spend time with her. Saturday can’t
come soon enough.