Unbeautifully (10 page)

Cox gave him a sideways glance and grinned. “Jealous.”

After tucking his gun back into his leathers, Ripper used his forearm to wipe Marcus’s blood spatter off his face.

“Dude, ain’t no one jealous of you. Dumpin’ Anna for Kami was like tradin’ in a sweet little kitty cat for a bloodthirsty tiger.”

“Yeah,” Cox drawled, grinning. “Half the time I don’t know whether to come or cry or both, but fuck me if she ain’t worth it.”

He watched Cox walk off, wondering what bitch on earth would be worth Kami’s level of bullshit and came up empty. That bitch was on a level all her own.

I was curled up on the couch with my pink fleece blanket, wearing Hello Kitty pajamas, just flipping through the channels when the doorbell rang. I glanced over at the clock. 1:34 A.M. Which meant one of two things—either Eva had lost her keys or there was urgent club business. I was betting on the latter, since Eva hadn’t come home after my father had left her naked and crying on their bedroom floor, leaving me to clean up another one of his messes. Tossing aside my blanket, I shuffled quickly through the family room, the living room, and into the foyer, where I simultaneously flipped on the hallway and porch lights.

On my tiptoes, I squinted into the peephole…and froze.

Ripper.

What was he doing here?

I placed my suddenly shaking hand over my pounding heart and tried not to hyperventilate.

Was he here to see me? Or had he been sent here?

And if he was here to see me, for what? To make sure I hadn’t told anyone about what happened at the lake? To have sex with me again?

I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally berating myself for that errant thought, and how my body had warmed at the mere suggestion of his body…and my body…and—

“Danny,” Ripper called out, sounding annoyed, knocking loudly on the door. “I know you’re standin’ there and I ain’t got time for this bullshit. Club’s on lockdown and I’m here to bring you in.”

Oh.

Oh.

Feeling stupid and strangely hurt, I flipped the lock and swung open the door. With his stature—those broad shoulders, his legs spread, thickly muscled arms folded across his chest—he practically took up the whole doorway.

“I need to change,” I muttered, quickly turning around before he had the chance to see my embarrassment.

I had one foot on the bottom stair when Ripper’s large, warm hand wrapped around my bicep and squeezed gently.

“We should talk,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” I whispered as tears unexpectedly formed. I knew what was coming and I didn’t want to hear it. The past year of my life had been nothing but one disappointment after another and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. The night at the lake had broken the seemingly never-ending cycle of letdowns. I’d felt free and happy and young again for the first time in a long time, and now he was going to ruin it.

I hated that Ripper had that ability. That somehow what had happened between us had given him power over my emotions. I wanted to take it back, I wanted to not care, but more than that, I wanted to understand why I did care so much.

“Hey,” he muttered, roughly turning me around to face him. “Why the fuck are you cryin’?”

Feeling pathetic, I blinked up at him through blurry eyes. “I hate lockdown,” I mumbled.

His brow rose. “You’re cryin’ ’cause you hate lockdown?”

Oh my god, this was the single most horrible conversation I’d ever had in my entire life. I wanted the floor to open up and suck me into another dimension. A dimension where Ripper didn’t exist.

“Yes,” I said, trying to pull away from his hold on me but his grip only tightened.

“Danny, fuckin’ talk to me,” he said gruffly. “I’m goin’ crazy not knowin’ what the fuck is goin’ on.”

I gaped up at him. He was what? Crazy? Why? And what did that mean? Crazy as in he wished it never happened? Or crazy because he wanted it to happen again? Or crazy because—

“Danny!” he yelled, shaking me. “You on drugs?”

I snapped back to the present. “No. I was thinking.”

“Care to share?” he growled.

No, I did not.

“No.”

“No? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” He glared down at me. “First you’re trickin’ me into fuckin’ you and then you’re leavin’ me in the dark, scared shitless that your old man is gonna be breakin’ down my fuckin’ door any goddamned second, and now you’re burstin’ into tears and still not tellin’ me what the motherfuck is goin’ on!”

My mouth fell open. Did he actually just say that? Did he seriously just say that I—

“Tricked you!” I screamed, yanking out of his grip and scrambling backward up the stairs, slapping at his hand as he tried to grab for me again. “You dragged
me
out of the lake!”

“Only ’cause you were fuckin’ beggin’ for it!” he yelled.

My mind raced to keep up with my quickly rising anger. Ripper, it seemed, had a knack for stripping me of all self-control, leaving me unable to manage my thoughts in his presence both sexually and emotionally. He somehow had the ability to bring out the very worst in me and magnify it times a million, leaving me irrational, saying and doing things I normally wouldn’t.

It was completely and totally unfair.

“You are insane!” I screamed. “Just because you regret it doesn’t mean you have to put all the blame on me!”

He was on me before I had the chance to blink, forcing me into a sitting position on the stairs and slapping a hand down on either side of me. He leaned down until our noses were practically touching.

“Baby,” he growled. “I ain’t puttin’ all the blame on you. I’m blamin’ that killer fuckin’ body and beautiful as fuck face, too.”

I opened my mouth but quickly closed it. What did someone say to that, anyway? Thank you? Screw you? Not that I could speak. I was too busy concentrating on the proximity of our bodies, touching in some places, nearly touching in others, and before I knew what I was doing, I was arching up and pushing myself against him. Almost instantly he shot away from me, muttering curses and running his hands wildly through his unbound hair.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said through his teeth, glaring down at me.

My face heated. Could this get any worse? I didn’t think so.

“That’s what that bikini bullshit was all about, yeah? You were tryin’ for me again, weren’t you. You that hard up for cock, Danny? You coulda just said something. You already know, baby, I ain’t hard to get.”

Apparently it could get worse. As humiliation flooded me, tears burned in my eyes. “Could you be any more disgusting?” I said bitterly.

“Yeah,” he shot back. “I could. So why don’t you clue me in as to why a girl like you is tryin’ for a disgusting fuck like me?”

“Because I liked it!” I shouted, raising my arms in frustration. “Because up until a minute ago when you decided to be a total jerk, I liked you too!”

Ripper went from shifting irritably to standing completely still. “You liked me,” he repeated dumbly.

“Not anymore!” I yelled, jumping to my feet. “Now I hate you!”

He blinked and I bit down on my bottom lip, angry at myself for putting my feelings out there, knowing he was going to stomp all over them.

“Say something,” I whispered. “Please.”

Years passed, it seemed, before Ripper spoke again.

“You’re a liar,” he said quietly, watching me closely. “I don’t get it and I’m thinkin’ that you might actually be on drugs or maybe you took a blow to the head recently, but either fuckin’ way, baby, you ain’t hatin’ on me. Not at all.”

I felt my entire body deflate with painfully embarrassing defeat. Why was he doing this to me? I’d done nothing to him.

“You actually want it again,” he continued, smirking. “Don’t you?”

My voice was a hoarse whimper. “Stop making fun of me.”

His amusement vanished and he shook his head. “No, baby, I’m not. I’m tryin’ to figure out whether I’m gonna slap some sense into you or fuck the shit outta you.”

My mouth fell open. Now, what did that mean? God, he was so confusing.

“Shit,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that…” He trailed off, mumbling a rainbow of curses.

His hand dropped listlessly from his face and my stomach fluttered nervously. Ripper had just admitted that he wanted me again.

He wanted me.

And I wanted him.

Judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t going to say anything else. Whatever happened next, if anything, was going to have to be on me. He was purposely leaving himself open, vulnerable, to what I wanted.

I just needed the courage to jump way out of my comfort zone and make the next move. Something I had never, ever done before.

If I didn’t take advantage of this opportunity, I doubted I was ever going to get another chance like this one.

Oh my god, I couldn’t do this.

Anabeth could do this, but I couldn’t.

I didn’t know how. What did I say? How did I say it?

I wiped my sweating hands on my pajama pants and swallowed hard.

What would Anabeth say?

Ha. What wouldn’t Anabeth say?

“Fuck me,” I blurted out breathlessly.

Ripper’s nostrils flared and I didn’t waste time waiting for his answer. I jumped down the last two steps and grabbed his shirt.

“I want you,” I whispered, closing my eyes, just breathing him in, letting the leather and cigarette smoke and the light undertone of soap-scented skin fill my nostrils.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, pulling away, pushing me backward. “I…shit…your old man…baby, I—”

“He won’t find out,” I said quickly, slapping his hands away and returning to my position pressed firmly up against him.

Even as he hesitated, his hand lifted, hovering near my cheek. Making the decision for him, I leaned into his touch, feeling both exhausted and relieved. What I’d said had taken every ounce of my willpower.

He stared down at me and I stared up at him, knowing the exact moment he made up his mind. His hard, tormented expression eased infinitely as the tension holding his body captive instantly evaporated.

“
Jesus,” he whispered, running his thumb along my mouth, tugging it open,
gently stroking my bottom lip.
“Why can’t I say no to you?”

My breath caught.
Oh my god, was it going to happen? Were Ripper and I going to happen again?

His hand moved, sliding slowly back over my cheek, my ear, and then his fingers were gliding through my hair and his other hand was traveling down my spine, mesmerizing me into thoughtless submission, making me half delirious with this single-minded need.

Then his hand was moving up my side, along my ribs, sliding over my breast. He brushed his thumb across my nipple and…

All over my body, nerve endings were flaring to life. I wanted this; I wanted this suddenly so badly, my body had begun to ache for more of him.

“We do this,” he growled softly. “Means you’re in my bed and no one else’s, yeah?”

The trapped air shuddered through my lungs and exploded into my quivering stomach.

He wanted more…after this? Or…he wanted only me? Or he wanted me to be with only him while he did…what? Is that what that meant? God, I really needed to start asking some of these questions out loud so I didn’t just stand there staring at him like some sort of speechless freak. But then again, did I really care what he meant? This was what I wanted, right? I wanted him and this and I wanted it right now and everything else was just details that could be worked out later. Or not, because at this precise moment I didn’t care about the details but instead about the hands on me, all over me.

“Ripper,” I whimpered, arching my back, pushing my flesh into his hand. “Please—”

His mouth crashed down on mine and, oh my god…his tongue and my tongue and… Oh god, oh god, oh god…

Suddenly, Ripper was pulling away from me and turning around. I panicked, feeling confused and worried until I saw him pull his cell phone from his leathers and bring it to his ear.

“Yo… Yeah, I’m here now…yeah…yeah…she’s packin’, Prez…fuck…yeah, I know what the fuck lockdown means, I’m gonna get her there.”

Prez. He was talking to my father.

I winced, feeling like we’d been caught red-handed, that somehow my father would know what we’d been doing.

“Danny!” Ripper hissed. My eyes shot to him. He was holding the phone away from him and gesturing wildly to the stairs. Oops. Whirling around, I bolted up the stairs, burst into my room, and quickly changed out of my pajamas and into a short pink sundress and my cowboy boots. After throwing some clothing and makeup into my shoulder bag, I checked my reflection, smoothed my hair, and darted back down the stairs.

Ripper had already gone outside. I could hear the rumble of his Harley pipes from the foyer.

Hurriedly, I punched in the house alarm, flipped the lights off, and locked the door behind me.

He watched me rush down the walkway toward him, his expression disconcerting. Had he changed his mind already? Had talking to my father triggered his guilt?

Anger toward the man who’d taken a backseat role to my life the second his own had hit a road bump, surged to the surface. He kept ruining everything and now he was going to ruin this for me.

“Ripper?” I whispered, stopping beside him. His hard gaze met mine and my stomach flip-flopped. He looked a million times different than he had inside the house. Nothing remained of the hungry expression he’d been wearing only moments earlier.

“Fuck,” he muttered, startling me as he reached out and wrapped his arm around my waist. I stumbled forward as he hauled me up against him.

“Meant what I said,” he said, dropping his head, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re with me, you’re with only me. I ain’t gonna share you with some teenage asshat whose dick ain’t full grown.”

Teenage asshat? Ha. Fat chance. My father had ruined any chance of me dating any male my age when he’d threatened my one and only boyfriend. No one wanted anything to do with me after that, leaving me to wonder what sort of pain and torture my father had threatened him with. But Ripper didn’t need to know any of that. He was jealous and I liked him that way.