Chapter 23

Alex

Fang’s leading me out of the room. Dart’s hands are untied, but he’s doing nothing to help me, just standing, watching. Looking over my shoulder, frantically trying to beg for help but unable to get words to come out of my mouth, I see Gator walking around, shaking their hands, thanking them for bringing me along.

In a room with black walls, Fang drags me over to a cold metal table and starts stripping off my clothes. I’m struggling, trying to escape, but when Gator comes in to help I haven’t got a chance. They’re too strong and soon have me naked and are pushing me back onto the unyielding surface. Fang’s hands go to his fly and he starts to draw down the zip.

“Fuck, her pussy’s stitched up. Give me your knife, Fang, and I’ll cut them out.” What? Who stitched me back up?

“You’ll cut her with that.”

“Gonna bloody her up anyway. A bit more won’t matter.”

I feel the cold metal of the knife and start screaming.

“Alex. Alex. Wake up. You’re having a nightmare. Keep still, darlin’, you’ll pull your stitches.”

Slowly I realise I’m lying in a soft bed not on a cold table, and it’s not Fang or Gator’s voices I’m hearing. It couldn’t be, the two of them are dead, I saw that with my own eyes.

“Alex, doll. Oh, Alex. Don’t cry.”

I hadn’t realised tears are escaping. Forcing open my wet eyes, I see a bedside light has been turned on, and Dart’s looking down at me, his brow creased and his lips pursed. Reaching out my hand I touch his cheek, as much to anchor me to the present than anything else.

“Oh, sweetheart. Come ‘ere. Let me hold ya.” He moves so slowly, as if he doesn’t want to frighten me, and gently wraps his arms around me, careful of the wounds on my chest. He pulls me to him and spoons around me.

My heart’s still racing from the terror of my dream, my skin covered in goosebumps from the cool air blowing from the air conditioning unit. His warmth surrounds me, and as he softly strokes his hand up and down my arm, I start to relax. Until I feel a hardness against me. I try to move away, but he holds me back.

“Can’t help it, darlin’. Just ignore it. Having a beautiful woman in my arms will do that.”

“Having any woman would probably work,” I snap.

I feel his mouth nuzzling the hair on the top of my head. “Not any woman, darlin’. Since I first saw ya dance I only get hard when I’m around you, or thinkin’ of you. And that’s the truth of it. Believe it or not, that’s down to you. It’s you that I want. Don’t know how you done it, babe, think you must have put some kinda spell on me.” He chuckles softly, and I feel the sound vibrating over my scalp. My resultant shiver is not from the cold.

But how could he want me? He might have before I was badly scarred. How can he now that Ron’s left his mark on me? I hate that man who may well have taken my future away. Biting my lip, I try to stop more tears falling.

Dart must realise he’s lost me, as his arms tighten. “Whatcha thinking that’s got you so worried?”

“My scars. You couldn’t…”

“Fuck, woman. I can deal, give me some fuckin’ credit. You’re still the same woman you were before.” He lowers his voice and it becomes a gravelly growl. “You’ve still got the same tits and ass.” As though making the point, one of his hands fondles my backside. “Mmm. I love this, ya know?” I should tell him to stop, but it feels so nice. Such a loving touch that I’ve never felt before.

We lie in silence for a minute, and then Dart speaks again. “What do you feel about tattoos?”

What? The sudden change of subject floors me. “What do you mean? You can get another one if you like. I like them.” I’ve already seen his colourful chest and the big Satan’s Devils tattoo on his back. More wouldn’t bother me.

“Not me, doll. Though I’m pleased you approve. But for you.” He pushes me over onto my back, and his hands move until they cover my breasts. I should stop him, but I don’t. Slowly his fingers circle the tee shirt material covering my mounds. “Daisy chains or something. They’d look great.” And hide the cigarette burns, I finish in my head. Couldn’t be more pain than the way I got my scars in the first place.

“And here.” His hand hovers over my chest. “You can think of a design to go here. A good tattoo artist will work around the scarring and make it disappear.”

“The scars will still be there. And you’ll feel them.” Any man would, I hastily correct myself. And be able to trace the ugly word Ron had carved into me.

“Won’t bother me none. Alex, you’re not your scars, you’re more than what that bastard did to you. You survived. Fuck, you were so strong to leave the first time. If you hadn’t, you’d have already been dead. Feel my dick, darlin’, he’s hard for you as you are. Once you’re healed you can take up dancing again. But only for me. Don’t want any other fucker looking at ya.”

“No, I’d frighten the customers away.”

“I very much doubt that. Did I tell ya you’ve still got a fantastic ass, babe?” Again he moves to cup that part of my anatomy, and I’m ashamed to admit I push my globes back into his hands. He explores and squeezes, then his fingers wander. I tense, but can’t bring myself to push him away.

“Are you still sore, babe? Down here, where the bastard stitched you up?”

“Only a little.” I shudder as I remember the indignity Ron had put me through. It’s the thought of it that’s worse and makes me cringe.

“Why don’t I see if I can make you forget about that?” The fingers of one of his hands creeps down lower across my stomach.

As I realise his intention, I try to pull away. “No. You can’t. I don’t want anyone touching me there.”

I feel him tensing, but when he speaks know he’s not angry with me. “Don’t let that fuckin’ bastard win, doll. Don’t give him the power. He’s screwed with your head. You tell me no, you’re doing exactly what he wants. Let me take the memory of what he did to you away.” His fingers reach their goal, and just one touch ignites something inside of me.

I should be moving, evading his hand. Telling him to stop. He’s right. If I’m squeamish and don’t move on from what Ron did, I’ll be giving in to him. And what Dart’s doing feels so good I force myself to be still, neither pulling away nor speaking as he gently strokes between my lower lips. My mind might be objecting, but my body responds automatically.

“You’re wet for me babe. Hmm, I like that.” As his finger lightly probes, I can’t suppress a moan, and I press against him. He raises his hand and brings it up, and I hear a sucking noise. “Doll, you taste so fuckin’ good. Always wondered what you taste like. It’s perfect. It’s you.”

His hand moves back down, and now he’s making lazy circles around my clit. I suck in air and try to move my hips around. I shouldn’t be letting him do this, but it’s so good I don’t want him to stop.

“Relax, just let me do all the work.”

It’s hard to relax as my muscles start tensing. A finger probes again, and then another. “You’re tight, doll. You’re going to strangle my cock when I get in there.”

He’s keeping up a gentle rhythm, enough pressure that my desire keeps building and building.

“That’s right, babe. That’s it. You’re nearly fuckin’ there, aren’t you?”

I’m hoping he doesn’t want an answer, as right now I can’t speak. I hold breath in my lungs, my whole body going taut as he lightly pinches my clit. His expertise is unquestionable, and I try to blank out all thoughts of how he got to know a woman’s body so well. Just take advantage.

And then I can’t hold it in any longer, I’m rising and rising until I go over the top, gasping air down into my lungs.

“Dart!”

“Mmm. So good, doll. So good seeing you let go. Next time I’ll be inside you, alright? And next time I’ll make you really scream.”

It gets better? I’ve nothing to compare it to. Ron never touched me like that. Dart’s right, Ron was a bastard. His abuse started long before he raised his fist. What he did to me was horrific, but the man beside me is chasing the memories away. I can move past this. With Dart’s help.

He’s made me feel so good, he’ll expect me to reciprocate now. I try to turn to face him, but his arms tighten, and he places a soft kiss to the back of my neck. “Go to sleep, now, doll. Just go to sleep.”

Surprised, but also relieved he wants nothing from me right now, my body and mind fatigued from the long day, the stress, and what Dart’s given me to process. Already limp in his comforting hold, I close my eyes.

Next time I open them, it’s morning. Dart’s hair’s hanging long and wet, clearly having come from the shower. I feel my cheeks burn as the events of last night come back to me, and it’s only after I’ve relived what happened in my head I’m ashamed to say I remember my son.

“Tyler?”

“He’s down at the clubhouse with Sam and Amy. I let you sleep in, babe, as you had a disturbed night.”

Again my cheeks flush as I remember just how he’d disturbed me. His lips curl up in a grin as though he’s remembering it too. He comes over and perches carefully on the bed. “You sore this morning?” As he sits I can see the bulge straining at his jeans.

Here it comes. Now he’ll expect me to do something for him. Am I ready? To delay the inevitable, I just answer his question, and honestly. “Not too bad.” I flex my shoulders and pull them back, testing my scars. “In fact, it feels easier today.”

“Good.” Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss on my forehead. “If you want to get up and showered, I can bring you some breakfast.”

He’s waiting on me now? And isn’t asking for anything? Perversely it makes me want to offer. “No, it’s alright, Dart. I’ll get ready and come down with you.” I glance shyly at his groin. “Unless you want me to take care of that?”

“Don’t tempt me, babe. But I don’t want to hurt you.” He gives a cheeky smirk. “And I followed your advice and took care of it myself in the shower.”

As I watch, the denim covering his crotch seems to strain even more. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Ruefully he glances down at himself. “That’s your fault.”

My eyes open wide. “I’ve done nothing.”

He taps his finger on my forehead. “You don’t need to do anythin’. That right there, that pout. I get hard just imaginin’ my cock in your mouth. Mmm mmm. The thought of my hard cock disappearin’ into those luscious lips.” Suddenly he stands and adjusts himself. “Your sex on fuckin’ legs, babe.”

Now what woman wouldn’t preen knowing how much she affected a man, and especially one such as Dart. And despite my scars. I might still need to be convinced Dart’s the right man for me, but every word out of his mouth makes me feel stronger.

“Do you need help in the shower?”

I shake my head, thinking where that might lead would be more than I could cope with. Doc had told me what to do, and he left new dressings with me.

“I’ll go check on Tyler, give you time to get ready. Then I’ll come bring some food back or take you to the club to get something. You must be hungry by now.”

The thought of food makes my stomach rumble, which makes him laugh. When he leaves I make quick work of getting washed and dressed, and am ready and waiting by the time he comes back. His hair’s been dried by the sun, and I watch as he ties it back into a bun. Every movement this man makes is sexy.

“Tyler’s fine, he’s got everyone fussin’ over him.” I appreciate his first thought is to reassure me. He nods when he sees my smile. “Oh, and I’ve spoken to your sister, told her you and Tyler are safe, but haven’t told her where you are. That way she can’t say if anyone asks her.” If Ron asks her, he means. I shiver as he eludes to my ex. “I haven’t told her anything about what happened to you. It’s up to you how much you want to say.”

The fact that he’d contacted her and put her mind at ease shows me what a special man he is. And for the moment at least, he appears to be mine. I still have some doubts on the wisdom of starting this journey with him, not having a clue where we’ll end up.

“Dart.” He turns to me and raises his eyebrow. “All I’m asking is that your honest with me. Don’t keep secrets, like Ron. If we’re going to give whatever this is between us a try, I want to know I’ll be able to trust you.” I pause and gather my thoughts. “You do something to hurt me or my son, we’ll be finished.”

He gathers me to him, his chin resting on the top of my head. “Babe, I’ll be tryin’ here. Never had somethin’ like this before. Can’t promise I won’t do anythin’ wrong, but I’ll never intentionally hurt ya. Or step out on ya. If I don’t feel it’s gonna work, we’ll talk about it, okay? And if you’ve got a problem with somethin’ I do or don’t do, don’t keep it to yourself, babe. We’ll thrash it out.”

That’s seems fair, and all I can ask.

I tilt my head up. “You think we’ve got a chance, Dart? A biker who doesn’t do relationships, and a scarred woman who’s come from an abusive marriage?”

Looking down at me, he smiles. “We write our own rules, babe. Make it up as we go along.”

And that, I suppose, is as much as any couple can do. Couple. I like the sound of that. Having never had a proper relationship with Ron, I’m exploring new ground too.

When we enter the clubhouse, it looks quite empty until I remember most of the men must still be in San Diego. I follow Dart through to the kitchen, but don’t really need him to lead the way, as the smell of bacon would have guided me there all by itself. Tyler’s sitting at a table, an older woman beside him, and he’s got paper and pens and appears to be drawing a bike. There’s five women in all, and I think for once the women outnumber the men. Although I’d met them at the cookout. Sam, who I know is with Drum, and Ella, who’s with Slick. My eyes flick toward her as I wonder how she recovered from her own ordeal. She’s showing no signs of it now. There’s Carmen, the hairdresser, and Sophie, who I think I’m remembering correctly, is with their VP.

As I’m nodding towards her, Dart gives a chuckle. “You’ll have to forgive Sophie if she starts speaking garbage. She’s from England and doesn’t know how to talk proper English.”

The woman in question flicks a dish cloth towards him, and he steps out of reach with a laugh. The last woman, Sandy, is sitting at the table with Tyler. She looks up and gives a little wave. As Dart pulls out a chair for me, I sit beside her and take a moment to praise my son for the drawing he’s done. I also thank Sandy for looking after him.

“Ain’t no problem,” she tells me with a smile, “always loved kids. Can’t wait for my own grandkiddy to be born.” She grins toward Sam, who rubs her small belly. She then leans down to check on Amy, who’s playing under the table.

Dart makes me a plate and soon I have more eggs, bacon, and waffles in front of me than I’ve seen in my life. Then he pushes a fruit bowl toward me. “I can’t eat all this!” I say with a laugh.

“Expect you want this.” And Sam sets a very welcome cup of coffee within reach. Dart starts in on his own breakfast, and I decide where to start tackling mine. Conversation flows easily.

When there’s a lull I ask a question which has been eating at me. “The strange names, where do they come from? Do the men choose them?”

“Ah, right. I’m well chuffed you asked that. Allow me.” Sophie pulls out the seat on the other side of me from Dart and sits down. “Now, Dart, you know why he got his name?”

I shake my head. Up to now I hadn’t thought to ask.

“Well, he doesn’t throw darts at a dartboard.”

“I’ve been known to,” Dart interrupts.

Sophie flicks her hand at him in dismissal. “Dart, do your thing.”

Wondering what’s going on, I watch as Dart stands. He undoes his hair and his long dark wavy locks flow down around his face. He then bows with an exaggerated flourish and a twirl of his hand, then says, “D’Artagnan at your service, ma’am.” He looks up and winks. “And before you ask, I’m very good with my sword.”

My hand covers my mouth as I laugh, and then I’m grateful for my dark skin hiding my flush as I remember how it felt against me last night. Although I’ve yet to experience it, I’ve no doubts he knows how to use what he’s got. The other’s might not have noticed my lapse, but Dart has. He gives me a wink.

Sam sighs. “My man’s called Drummer because he used to bang everything in sight.”

“Doesn’t need to now, hun.” Sandy gives what I’ve gathered to be her daughter-in-law a fond look.

The prez’s old lady shrugs. “He knows I’d cut off his dick if he even looked at another woman.” As the other old ladies echo Sam’s solution, I give a pointed glance toward Dart and notice his hands go protectively to his groin.

Another man wanders in, stretches his arms up over his head and yawns, and then goes to grab himself a plate. While he’s putting a mound of bacon on it, Sophie calls over. “Why you called Rock, Rock? Alex wants to know.”

“What?” He must have had a good night, as his eyes are rimmed red. He grins, puts down his breakfast, approaches me and lifts up his shirt. “Hit me.”

What? Dart winks to encourage me. I ball my fist and hit him in the stomach. Then shake my hand out afterwards. Yup, he’s abs are as hard as rock.

Another man comes in and sits next to Dart and nudges him. “Shall I tell her how I got my name?” A stud flashes in his mouth as he talks.

“I think she can guess, Tongue.”

Ewh!