Chapter 12

Darcy

I can’t understand my reaction to this man standing in front of me. Is it because he’s rescued me—not once now, but twice? My own knight in shining armour. Or to put it more accurately, in a worn leather vest.

His face is hardened by riding in the harsh Arizonian sun—and probably what life has thrown at him— but it can soften in an instant when he looks at me. His short hair makes my hands twitch, wanting to run my fingers through it, and his beard—I wasn’t sure I liked facial hair before, but his? It’s a striking feature, so long, and again today braided in two plaits. What would it feel like rubbing against my skin?

He’s got a smell that’s all his own, a combination of soap, leather, and oil mixed with a slight tinge of sweat, the latter not overwhelming, just letting me know he’s all man. It’s a concoction that’s gone straight to my lady parts, and I feel my underwear dampening under the skirt that I put on for protection.

Pete just tried to rape me. That should mean the last thing I want is another man touching me. But he didn’t. This man standing in front of me got here in time. My virtue’s intact.

When I’d dressed it was to make myself unattractive, to hide any assets a man might want to take stock of. Now my mind’s changing, and I’m starting to wish I’d worn different clothes, something alluring.

Peg’s not classically handsome, but there’s something about him that makes him extremely attractive. I want to see what he’s hiding under the material that covers him. I want him.

Is it just a reaction? To take back the control which was stolen from me? To make the decision that I want a man and not have it forced on me? The outline of the cock under his jeans that I’d seen before he turned away shows he isn’t immune to me, and is as turned on as I am. If he stays longer, I want him in my bed.

Is it just that he’s been so protective? That I’m making assumptions he’d take care of me in all ways?

When he says he has to go, crushing disappointment almost brings me to my knees. The assumed promise that this day would end so much better than it started suddenly taken away. I don’t want him to go. I put my hand on his arm to physically stop him, and shiver, a tingling sensation alighting every nerve as I touch his warm skin, making the region between my legs throb. Touching him, as I am, I don’t miss the tension that runs through his body when I offer up just one word. “No.”

He shrugs off my touch. “Darcy,” he begins, then turns around to face me. “I…” his hands rise as if to touch me, then flutter and fall to his sides. His sharp eyes must see the desire held in mine. “We can’t. I can’t.”

My face falls at his rejection, and my eyes gaze at the floor, unwilling to memorise more details of his face. I must have imagined our mutual attraction.

His fingers are suddenly there, under my chin, raising it up so once again I’m forced to look at him. “You were almost raped Darcy. It’s not the right time.” His other hand taps my forehead. “You’ve got to get things sorted in there. You’re tired. You need sleep.”

“I’m not going to rest with thoughts of that bastard invading my head. What if I wanted you to take the thought of what Pete almost did away? Replace it with better memories.”

He inhales sharply, and I don’t miss the widening of his stance, nor when I look down, the bulge that has reappeared in his groin. “Darcy, you’re fuckin’ temptin’ me. You’re playin’ with fire.”

A surprised laugh comes from me, and my lips curl up. “You could say I’m an expert at that.”

I’ve not heard his mirth before, but now he’s chuckling. “Fuck it, Woman.” Then he surprises me by letting his hands drop and, stepping away, frowning again suddenly. “You know fuck all about me. You ought to know more before invitin’ a man into your bed.”

I raise and drop my shoulders. “In our two meetings you’ve shown me more of the type of man that I want than I’ve ever found with anyone else. You’re kind, you’re protective. I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

“What? Fuck no. I’d never knowingly do that.” His hands tug at his beard, playing with the braids. I give him the space to think. “Fuck, Darcy, I need to tell you something.” He walks to the door as though he’s going to leave.

My eyes narrow as I wonder what he’s going to tell me, and I’m holding my breath as I ask, “Are you married?” It hadn’t occurred to me, but it would be just my luck if he was. “Is there someone else?”

“Fuck no,” he repeats. Though his back is turned toward me, I can tell there’s a wealth of emotion in those words. I see his shoulders pull back. “First, you’ve had a distressin’ mornin’. If I take you to bed I want you to want me. Not just a cock to take your horrific experience away.”

“I want you.” I take the few steps that are between us and put my hand on his shoulder. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since that first time that I met you. I tried to find you, to thank you. And,” oh to hell with it, “to explore a connection that I’d felt.” Part of me is screaming, Why did I make that admission. Starting something with an outlaw biker is not what I should be doing. But my sensible self is being overruled by the strength of attraction I feel for him. The man who’s invaded my thoughts for weeks.

“You tried to find me?”

“Yes. But I didn’t have your number, and I couldn’t locate your compound.”

Another chuckle. “You actually went lookin’?”

“I did. But I only had a vague idea of where it was.”

He puts his hand over mine, still resting on his shoulder, and his fingers squeeze gently. “The second thing I have to tell you.” There’s a pause before he continues. “You think I’m rejectin’ you, but when you know, you might reject me. And I tell you this now, Darcy, I couldn’t take that from you.”

He swings around so suddenly I almost lose my balance, clutching at him to keep myself upright. His eyes crease, and he looks up at the ceiling before bringing his gaze down to meet mine. “Like that you’ve been thinkin’ about me. ‘Cause, baby, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.” His hands cup my face, and as he stares it’s like he’s memorising my features. “I’d rather leave it like this, a dream I can replay in my head, than take the next step and spoil it. I’ve been rejected before, darlin’, and if you did that it would destroy me.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“You let me into your bed, then I’m in your life, darlin’. I’m not gonna walk away anytime soon. You’ve already had dealin’s with a fuck who wanted to own you, but, babe, you’ve not even started to see possessive yet.”

The thought of a relationship with this intense man has me reeling. Quickly I run through all the reasons why I shouldn’t want it. I’ve obviously got a poor taste in men—and bad judgement. I shouldn’t be jumping into this.

“Look, why don’t I go and sort business?” He’s giving me an out. “Come back when your head’s on straight. When you’re not dealin’ with what Pete did to you. We can talk some, get to know each other, without…” He breaks off.

“Fucking?” I suggest, helpfully.

“Fuck, Woman.” He smiles. A genuine smile.

“I take risks every day, Peg. It’s what I do.” And while we take every precaution, I always know there’s a very small chance one day a fire will claim me as a victim. Firefighters give their all on the job and will do what’s necessary to try to save lives. It’s made me less cautious in my everyday life. When I see something I want, I go after it.

His brow is creased again. “Not sure I like that you put yourself in danger.”

I shake my head to reassure him. “I don’t. I’m fully trained, remember, and I’ve been doing this job for a few years now. I’ve got a team behind me as well, we work together, need to watch each other’s backs. But I work with fire, Peg, and that’s unpredictable. No one runs into a burning building not expecting to get out, but there’s always that chance. Knowing it’s there means we’re careful. But…”

He rolls his head back. “I’m a biker, darlin’. I live an outlaw life. Oh, we earn our money clean these days, but there’s always someone wantin’ what we’ve got.”

Now I know what that look was for, because I’m feeling the same emotion. Worried for him.

“I’m sergeant-at-arms, Darcy. Which means my role is to keep the club safe.”

I place my hands on his chest, under his leather vest. Firm muscles meet my fingers. This man keeps himself fit.

“Darcy, stop that. It’s hard enough to resist without your hands on me.”

I don’t stop, and instead my hands explore more.

Until they’re brought to a halt when his cover mine and he tears them away, holding me so my arms are held wide. “You didn’t give me a chance to tell you. Babe, what I’ve been trying to say is I don’t want you to have any nasty surprises. I’ve only got half of one leg.”

He’s still holding me prisoner, my only reaction is to tilt my head to one side. “So what?”

Examining me carefully, he informs me, “Some women don’t like it. It turns them right off.”

Actually, I’m intrigued. The way he moves you’d never know it. I glance down at his legs. “You wear a prosthesis?”

He just nods, and I feel stupid. Of course, he does.

“Well, it doesn’t bother me.” It’s other parts of his body I’m more interested in at the moment. I want to see him naked without his clothes, feel his calloused hands roaming my body, feel what I can see is an impressive cock…

“Eyes up here, darlin’.”

I feel my face flush as I look back up and see amusement on his face. He lets my hands go, and his own once again cup my face and he stares down intently. “You sure about this?”

Suddenly I know I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. “Yes.”

His body shudders as though I’ve broken through his resistance, my easy dismissal of what is obviously a big deal for him being the last straw. He says nothing more and lowers his mouth until it touches mine. I’m fairly tall for a woman at five-foot-nine, and not used to having to crane my neck. I rise on tiptoe and press up against him.

His tongue seeks entry, I open for him, and as he sweeps in and I taste him for the first time. It’s captivating. I can’t get enough. One of his arms sweeps behind my back, pulling me in close, our bodies flush together, leaving me in no doubt of his arousal, which I can tell by hardness alone clearly matches mine. His size, though. I’ve never felt anything like it, and a flutter of excitement goes through me. As I whimper into his mouth, my tongue duelling with his, his free hand goes to the back of my head, holding me in place as he completely controls our first kiss.

When eventually we need air, he pulls away and tucks my head into his chest. “Perfect. Fuckin’ perfect.”

It was just one brief union, a touching of mouths, but it seems almost reverent. As if we’ve both taken the initial step toward the rest of our lives.

“I want you,” he murmurs. I feel the vibration on the top of my head.

“Yes.” I don’t need to say more.

He turns me around, and instead of leading me into my bedroom as I expected, sweeps aside the empty beer bottles, picks me up and sits me on the kitchen counter, pushing my legs out to the sides, and stepping in between them.

“Don’t want you in that bed. Not now.”

Not after Pete almost raped me there. I start to worry. Surely for our first time we should be horizontal? Try out the missionary position before attempting anything else? I’ve not been with men who’ve been particularly adventurous before. How do we play this? What should I do with my hands?

“Stop thinking, darlin’.” Peg’s head comes down and kisses me again. Another deep kiss, more ravishing than the first. I can feel my lips are swollen when he looks up again. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” His finger now replaces his mouth, and he traces the swelling he caused, then takes hold of my oversized tee and starts to lift it off. I raise my arms to help him.

He stares in adoration at my plain bra, hands coming out to touch my breasts without removing their covering. He watches his fingers, then looks into my eyes. Such a expressions of devotion I hadn’t expected to see. This is no rutting of animals, no quick one and done pairing. This means something to him. Like it means something to me.

Then when he expertly undoes the front clasp, I give him space to lower the straps down my arms. Still he holds my eyes, not lowering his yet to see what he’s revealed. Then he leans forward, and his voice causes vibrations as he speaks into my ear. “Only have one first time, darlin’. Not gonna rush.” His tenderness, so unexpected from such a big man, sends thrills right through me, and I tremble in anticipation.

His hands leave me, and I feel bereft, but then entranced as he slides off his vest. Then in the male way which I swear they must learn in school, grabs the neck of his t-shirt and pulls it right over his head.

Before I can touch those hard muscles I long to trace, or even feast my eyes on his body, he steps forward again and hugs me to him, my chest to his chest, warm skin to warm skin. He holds us together, hearts beating in time. “Dreamed of this. Fuckin’ dreamed of holdin’ you close.”

I moan against him, having a tough time keeping my body still, wanting to writhe against him. “Impatient, aren’t you? Feel like a kid at Christmas, but don’t want to rush and open everything at once. Wanna make this last. Savour it.”

We stay in position for over a minute, then he shifts back, and now his eyes feast on my naked breasts, and as he sees my pierced nipples a wide grin spreads over his face. “Any other surprises?”

“No.” I lift my hands, wanting to touch his chest, but he gently bats them away.

But his hands don’t stay still, reaching out and smoothing the curves of my breasts, circling around, making the nipples peak, even though he’s not touched them.

“Peg,” I whine, complaining.