“Oh god. Fuck yes.” Rachael moaned the words as she hitched her hips, once more making contact with the hard, hot body beneath her. They were both tangled up in the sheets, sweat soaking their skin from the energetic morning romp but neither noticed. They were lost in each other.
It was the same as it was every time Rachael and John Dawes, more commonly known as Jackrabbit, fell into bed together. Or the kitchen table. Or the back of her truck. Or the alley behind the bar that Rachael lived above. One touch and they both exploded. Sparks flying everywhere. Burning out of control for one another.
Rachael bit of another groan of pure pleasure at the feel of Jackrabbit’s teeth grazing that sensitive curve where her neck melted into her shoulder and it sent shockwaves tumbling through her, adding to the intense sensations that already threatened to overwhelm her.
Her tense muscles were straining. A quiver grew from her legs and quickly spread to the rest of her body. Rachael panted, biting her lower lip as the pleasure turned into ecstasy, and then something urgent—something more insistent. She tried to hold back, tried to hold out just a little bit longer but before she could even take her next breath, she felt herself coming apart.
“Johnny!” She cried out, her mind nothing but a haze as her body shook in his arms. On and on, he thrust hard inside her, stretching her orgasm for what seemed like an infinity but a few moments later he followed her over the edge. His fingers tensed, digging hard enough at her hips bruise but she didn’t care. She was lost in the pleasure that still rode her body.
With one last weak cry, he wrung the last ounce of ecstasy from her. Rachael collapsed with a breathless laugh on top of his muscular chest. Her breaths came out soft and husky as she rolled to one side, the sheet rolling with her and covering about half of her body.
The rest of her was still on display but Rachael didn’t care. They had just finished having sex together and still, Jackrabbit’s dark blue eyes were drawn to her curves, gleaming with a lean and hungry light.
He swept one callused hand from her thigh, traveling up the peak of her hip and into the valley of her waist and then up some more, just skimming the tip of her still sensitive nipple to sweep across the skin of her shoulder.
He let his fingers rest there, just touching her, caressing her as if he couldn’t make himself stop. Like he didn’t want to lose the connection between them. That thought left a warm emotion tightening across her chest, and a little kernel of panic rising right alongside it.
Fighting to keep things light and easy between them, Rachael turned her head to send him a devilish grin.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She whispered huskily and drew a husky laugh from Jackrabbit.
“It is becoming a bit of a problem, isn’t it?”
“A bit? This is the third time this month I’m going to be late for work.” But even still, Rachael didn’t move from the bed, or Jackrabbit’s touch. The people of Mayville could just wait a little damn longer to get their burnt coffee. The thought made her scowl a little. The people of Mayville, she thought sarcastically, all one thousand three hundred and eighty of them.
It was a small, rural town. Mostly farms and farmers with more cattle than people. Everyone knew everyone else’s business, especially when that business concerned the sheriff’s trouble maker daughter.
It was one of the reasons she couldn’t wait to get out of this town, move to a city where she could start all over. Move somewhere that she could be anyone she wanted to be. She’d already put her plan for operation get the hell out of dodge in place.
Rachael glanced over at Jackrabbit, who was still eyeing her like a piece of birthday cake and some of the excitement about her plan dimmed. He was one part of her plan that she hadn’t, well, hadn’t planned on to be honest. He kind of snuck up on her.
It had been the night of her best friend Elsie and his best friend Hatchet’s wedding. She’d been dying in her role of maid of honor, standing on the sidelines getting steadily drunk as she watched the happy couple.
Jackrabbit had sauntered over with that sexy as hell grin curling up one corner of his delectable mouth. He asked her if she wanted to get out of there. She said yes and they ended the night twined together in the back of her jeep, and then again at her apartment, and then one more time in her shower the next morning. That was six months ago, and they haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other since.
Rachael shivered as he continued to sweep his thumb across her still sensitive skin. She closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the moment instead of her own chaotic thoughts.
John “Jackrabbit” Dawes, whom she preferred to think of as the biggest playboy she’d ever met, wasn’t exactly the long term type. But it didn’t matter to her. She’d learned first-hand that nothing lasts. This had been true of every relationship she’d ever gotten into. She was the epitome of unlucky in love.
She’d never had a single relationship that worked, and she’d learned over the years not to expect them too. It was a lot easier that way—a lot less heartache. It was hard to get hurt when you started something already knowing it would end sooner rather than later.
Have fun while it lasts. Rachael repeated her motto silently. And don’t let the door hit you on the ass when it’s over.
She knew it was a little cynical, but Jackrabbit seemed to have no problem with their arrangement, even though they’ve had to keep things secret. A part of Rachael liked the thrill of sneaking around and finding hidden places to meet together.
The thing was, her father was the sheriff of Mayville County, and Jackrabbit… Well, Jackrabbit was the new president of the Roadburners, a local biker gang that liked to cause trouble in the area. Nothing that bad, at least according to Rachael’s way of thinking of things. Not exactly legal, sure, but stealing a couple stray head of cattle from a big ranch didn’t really hurt anybody. It’s not like they were going around murdering people.
Of course, her father wouldn’t see it like that. To him, the Roadburners might as well be public enemy number one. There was also no way in hell that he’d approve of anything going on between Rachael and Jackrabbit—which only added to the appeal for her.
Yeah, right, as if he’s ever approved of anything I’ve ever done, Rachael snorted to herself. She was the wild child. The rebellious one. He always used to joke that her twin sister Hannah got all the ‘good’ genes, and she got all the bad ones. She moved out of his house as soon as she turned eighteen. But in this small town, it was still hard to get out from under her father’s shadow. She’ll always be known as the Sheriff’s daughter.
Maybe in Houston… The thought trailed off at the soft touch across her cheek. She blinked her eyes open.
“What are you thinking about, Rae?” Jackrabbit asked, smoothing his finger across her forehead next, “You’ve got a furrow right here.”
Rachael just shrugged. Her signature devil-may-care grin was back in full force. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Just work.”
“Uh huh. Okay.” He shook his head, obviously not buying it.
She was relieved when he didn’t push her any further. Keep things light. Keep things easy and fun. Don’t get too serious, don’t get too deep. Those were the rules that she lived by.
He let out a little laugh suddenly, his blue eyes sparkling like the ocean as he matched her grin for grin.
“What? What’s so funny?” She finally asked.
“You called me Johnny.”
“What?” Rachael asked again, giving him a confused look. He leaned forward so he could whisper the words against her ear.
“When we were fucking.” He said. “I made you come and you said my name,” His voice was hoarse and Rachael moved restlessly as another wave of arousal hit her hard and low. “You called me Johnny instead of Jackrabbit.” He leaned back to look at her. “No one calls me Johnny.”
“Well, I guess I do.” She said, suddenly breathless. The look in his eyes darkened, the moment drawing out between them and that spark of panic was back. Rachael rolled to one side of the bed, landing on her feet and stood, completely naked and completely confident. The heavy lidded look Jackrabbit gave her certainly didn’t hurt either.
She threw a snarky grin over her shoulder. “I like Johnny. It suits you. Besides, you’ll probably be on to the next girl soon enough and then you can have her call you whatever you want. Superman, the amazing sex machine. Anything you want.”
Rachael turned and walked to the bathroom, putting a little extra sway in her step just for his viewing pleasure. She felt his stare burning into her from behind and nearly laughed out loud as she swept into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
***
Jackrabbit lay back in his bed, one arm propped above his head. He was so distracted by the delectable ass bouncing in front of him that it took an extra-long minute for Rachael’s words to sink in. When they finally did it was his turn to furrow his brows as he stared at the close bathroom door that she’d just disappeared behind.
His thoughts whirled in his head, tangling together into one big confusing mess. He knew he should be happy about her attitude about whatever it was that was going on between them. But even still, he couldn’t help but feel his ego deflate a little about how casual she was about him moving on.
Of course it’s my ego, he assured himself, what else would it be? It was just a fling, right? He should be happy that she wasn’t one of those clingy girls that expected him to proclaim his undying love after their first roll in the hay. Those same girls often times turned around and walked away at the drop of a hat. Usually right into someone else’s bed, he thought cynically.
It had happened before and he was sure it would happen again. It was better this way. Better not to get too involved. Better to just have fun. And fuck, Rachael was a hell of a lot of fun.
The thought had a grin that was pure sex pulling across his lips. She was like a firecracker, going from zero to sixty in no time flat. He’d never met anyone quite like her, especially not in a town as tiny as Mayville.
He glanced around his small studio apartment. It wasn’t anything fancy but it was close to the Roadburners clubhouse. Now that he was president of the crew, he spent a lot more time there and liked the convenience. Especially now with everything that was going on.
With a sigh, Jackrabbit grabbed ahold of the small rabbit foot attached to the chain around his neck. It sat right next to his dog tags and he never took either off. He wore them as a reminder.
He’d been just a young, no-nothing arrogant son of a bitch when he first deployed overseas. Him, Hatchet, and Finn. The three musketeers, they called themselves. Hatchet had enlisted to get a new chance at life, Jackrabbit did it to get the fuck away from his dysfunctional family and because there was no way he could afford college. Finn had done it out of honor, a sense of duty that ran deeper than skin and bone—deeper than blood.
They’d been pinned down by enemy fire. Hatchet across enemy lines, stuck god knows where in the heat of the desert with the sound of mortar blasts ringing in their ears. Finn had been caught out in the open and had taken a hit in one leg.
Without thought, Jackrabbit had sprinted to his friend, dodging bullets and shrapnel to pull Finn to safety. He’d been given the rabbit’s foot for good luck before deployment. In that moment, the damn thing actually pulled through for him. He’d worn it every day since for the rest of his deployment. It was how he got his nickname, Jackrabbit.
Well, that a few other things, he thought to himself, grinning. But then it slowly faded as his thought turned back towards his time in the military. It had changed them all, the war, but it had changed Finn the most. The Finn they used to know had died over there. The man who’d come back was a stranger, and a dangerous stranger at that.
Finn had gotten in with the Roadburners around the same time as Jackrabbit, but things had gone south real fast. By the time Finn left the crew, a war of had been brewing between him and the Roadburners’ former president, Mad Dog.
The buzz of his cell phone jarred him from his troubled thoughts and Jackrabbit quickly picked up his phone to look at the text. It was a message from Harlow, his new second in command. Jackrabbit sighed after reading it. Just fucking great. This was just what he needed to kill his post-Rachael glow.
Cursing under his breath, he quickly rolled out of bed and threw on his jeans and a T-shirt that he was fairly certain was clean. The last thing he grabbed was his black leather jacket with the Roadburners patch emblazoned proudly on the back. He slipped it on, feeling a jolt of disbelief that he was the President.
It had only been a few months since Mad Dog had been killed and the club unanimously voted in Jackrabbit to take over for the old bastard. He was still adjusting to the change but he felt like he was truly where he belonged. The Roadburners were a family. Sure, a rough, bearded, heavily drinking family, but a family none the less.
After getting dressed, Jackrabbit walked to the still closed bathroom door. He raised his hands, about to knock and tell Rachael goodbye. He could hear the shower running, nearly drowning out Rachael’s rendition of The Door’s Light My Fire.
Finally, he just let his hand drop. He turned to leave without saying another word, pausing only to quickly scrawl a note telling her to lock up on her way out. A moment later he was walking through the door, hopping onto his jet black motorcycle and heading towards the clubhouse, his mind already whirling with how to deal with this new problem.