Captured: A Bad Boy Biker Romance by Honey Palomino (19)

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PLEASE ENJOY THIS FREE BONUS COPY OF HONEY PALOMINO'S 'SAVING REBEL'!

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SAVING REBEL

By Honey Palomino

CHAPTER ONE

Mason

Sweat poured down my back as I scrubbed the grease from my hands. I was hot and exhausted, but at least my bike was finally fixed, thanks to my best friend Harley, who had helped me all day.

As I was drying my hands, the sound of footsteps behind me made me turn around. I blinked at the beauty standing in front of me.

Long, curly black hair framed her heart-shaped face. What she wasn’t wearing was much more noticeable than what she was wearing - but those tall, black leather boots, and short, denim skirt, topped with the tiniest black bikini top I had ever seen - perfectly complimented her naked flesh. Her full breasts were straining to escape the small, tiny pieces of satin fabric.

She was young, probably too young. But she was oozing pure sexuality, and my cock sprang to attention in seconds as I drank her in.

I raked my gaze across her petite, tight body, starting with those gorgeous, perky breasts, taking in the hard nipples that were trying to poke through their confines, and then trailing down to her curvy hips that were tightly wrapped in denim.

“Hey, handsome.”

Her voice was low and sultry and if I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine she was older.

“Hey…” I said, doing my best not to pounce and mount her right there on the back of my bike. “How can I help you?”

I looked over her shoulder, but didn’t see a car or bike, and while this was our MC’s clubhouse, it was also a legitimate car and motorcycle repair shop.

The beauty sashayed over, her hips swinging seductively as she stood right in front of me and looked up with impossibly large blue eyes. Something about her seemed familiar, but with looks like that, I would have never forgotten her.

“I just wanted to take a look around, if that’s okay with you?”

She batted her baby blue eyes at me and my cock grew even harder.

“Why? Look around at what?” We had customers all the time, but nobody ever wanted to just look around. Something wasn’t right, but with her tits bouncing with every movement, I was having a very difficult time concentrating.

She reached over and touched the leather seat of my bike, her fingers sliding slowly over the grains and up to the shiny black tank.

“At bikes. I’ve always loved them,” she said, almost wistfully. “I grew up around them, but haven’t been able to ride in a while.”

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, my throat catching as I tried to control my raging erection as I watched her caress my bike with her tiny fingers.

“Yeah,” she turned, taking her hand off the bike and putting it on my chest, fingering the leather cut I was wearing and staring up at me again. “And bikers, too. I like bikers.”

“Do I know you?” Those eyes were so familiar, but I knew I didn’t know her. She was the kind of woman a man didn’t tend to forget.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

She looked up at me, her eyes almost daring me to touch her, as she played with my vest.

“Look, baby girl, don’t you think you’re a little out of your league here?”

She smiled at me for the first time, her pouty pink lips stretching across her face in a slow, seductive transformation. I was holding my breath, and when I made a conscious effort to inhale, I was accosted by the sweet flowery smell of her.

“I don’t, actually.” She arched her back, pressing those perfect mounds into my chest. Just when I was about to reach out and pull her to me, she turned and walked away. Her hips seemed to sway even more as she walked around the shop, touching every piece of leather she could find on the other bikes, her fingers running through the dangling fringe on some of the handlebars. There were half a dozen bikes laying around in different stages of repair and she made a point to touch each one of them.

“I like the way it smells in here, don’t you?” she asked, her eyes darting around, taking everything in as I watched her curiously.

“The smell of leather warmed by the sun, old grease…whiskey.” The words slid out of her beautiful mouth seductively.

She walked over to the counter, and grabbed my half empty whiskey bottle that was sitting amongst various tools and motorcycle parts. With the confidence of a seasoned woman, she removed the lid and lifted the bottle to her luscious lips, pouring a generous amount of the amber liquid into her mouth.

My cock hardened even more as my eyes locked onto her lips engulfing the neck of the bottle.

“Sure, I guess…” I replied, once again holding my breath, waiting for her next move.

She circled back to stand in front of me, the bottle still in her hand. She stood directly between me and my bike, and once again she arched her back until her nipples touched my chest.

“Want some?” she asked, her low voice almost a moan as she licked her lips.

“Um…sure.” I took the bottle from her and took a huge swig from it.

I didn’t know who she was, or where she came from, or even what the hell she wanted, but the one thing I did know was that if she stood there much longer pressing her tits into me, I was going to rip that bikini top right off her tiny little body.

She smiled as she watched me swallow the liquor and then took the bottle from me and drank from it again. When she licked her lips again afterwards, she pressed even harder into me.

“There’s only one smell that’s missing, don’t you think?”

“What’s that?” I replied.

“Pussy.”

Her brazenness caused me to laugh loudly, and I smiled down at her. She was short, allowing me the perfect view of her cleavage from my vantage point.

“You are one brave girl, coming in here dressed like a fucking hussy and talking about pussy.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. But you wouldn’t hurt me, would you?” She batted her eyelashes at me once more as I shook my head at her.

“No, but you don’t fuckin’ know that.” I growled down at her, hoping to scare her just a little. What a risk this little minx was taking. Visions of bending her over my bike filled my head and my swollen cock was not helping the situation at all.

“Yeah, but I like to take risks. If you don’t take risks, then how can you have any fun?” “Is that what your looking for? Fun?” I asked.

“That one of the things I’m looking for,” she replied, her body moving even closer to me.

“And what’s your idea of fun, baby girl?” I took the bottle from her again and took another swig while I waited for her answer.

She reached out and touched the edge of my cut again, her fingers sliding up and down it as she gazed up at me.

“Well, to start with, you look like you could be a lot of fun.”

“Listen, babygirl. If you don’t stop right now, I’m not going to be able to control myself much longer. Now, unless you want me to bend you over my bike and shove my hard cock into your young little pussy, you’d best leave now.”

“My pussy isn’t so young. I’m 19.”

I groaned. She was practically begging for it now.

“Even so,” I growled at her, “I’m giving you a chance to march your tight little ass out of here before I have no choice but to destroy it.”

“Like I said,” she replied, her hands reaching up behind her neck and slowly untying the strings of her bikini top. “I’m a risk taker.”

Her hands fell along with the fabric, and her creamy breasts came into full view. I swallowed hard, and my cock throbbed hotly in my jeans.

“I warned you!” I said. I dropped the bottle with a loud thunk, whiskey spilling at our feet as I snaked my hand around her waist and pulled her into me, my mouth smashing against hers as I slid my tongue into her mouth.

She kissed me back passionately, pressing her entire body against me, her naked breasts smashed against my chest. Roughly, I turned her around and bent her over the seat of my bike.

I pulled her skirt up around her hips, exposing her bare ass and pussy. Her ass was tight and firm, and I moaned in pleasure as I pulled open my jeans as fast I could.

Watching her carefully, half expecting her to go running in fear, I was impressed at her calmness as she waited patiently, a serene smile on her face as she wiggled her upturned butt at me.

“Yes! Give it to me!” she whispered, her head resting on the seat of my bike.

I shook my head, not believing my good luck, as I slammed my cock up her incredibly tight and already slick pussy. If cock is what she wanted, then I was going to give it to her.

And give it to her I did. She moaned and whimpered as I pounded into her, thrusting mercilessly as she opened to me. I grabbed her hips, pulling her back to meet my every stroke, her sweet pussy spasming around me as I fucked her harder and harder.

“Yes! Fuck me, fuck me!” she demanded, her voice rising with each thrust.

My cock swelled inside her as I filled her spasming pussy. She gripped my cock as pleasure tore through our bodies, shuddering as we came together in a raw explosion of sexual energy.

I pulled out of her as she stood up and turned around, her irresistible smile and her bare swinging tits causing my cock to twitch again. I smashed my mouth down on hers, pulling her into me, and wrapped my arms around her.

I hadn’t had chemistry like this with a woman in quite some time, and now that I had fucked her, I didn’t want to let her go.

We were still kissing, standing there with my cock still raging between us, when the door to the clubhouse opened and Harley walked out.

“Hey, Mason, do you want a beer…” His voice trailed off when I saw I wasn’t alone.

“Shit, man, sorry…” he said, as he turned to go back inside.

We had jumped and pulled our mouths away to look at him when he walked out, but he turned to walk back in just as quickly.

He stopped dead in his tracks when the voice beside me called his name softly.

“Harley?”

He turned slowly, a haunted look in his eyes as he stared at the bare breasted girl standing next to me.

“Rebel!?” He asked incredulously. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What the fuck!” I yelled, pulling away as fast as I could from her, and frantically putting away my cock. “Rebel? Your SISTER? Goddammit!”

“Hi, Mason,” she said to me, her sly smile a cruel tease. “I guess you didn’t recognize me, huh?”

Chapter Two

One year earlier

Rebel

Happy birthday to me, I thought. Only one person in the whole world had remembered, and he was on top of me, inside of me, pounding away at me like an ungraceful mule as I lay motionless beneath him, my head a million miles away already.

My plan was to be on the train by now. But instead I was late, because once again, my stupid heart had gotten in the way. Tears began falling down Jimmy Morgan’s handsome, innocent face when I explained that I had to get out of town, and since - as of 2:48 a.m. this morning - I was finally eighteen years old, I could actually leave.

This time, nobody could stop me.

But Jimmy had succeeded in delaying me. He was the only person in the entire universe that had been nice to me in the last six years and I cared about him, as much as I could care about anyone. He was the only friend I had, and I felt terrible leaving him behind.

But I had to go far, far way. And we both knew it.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Reb,” he said through his tears as he thrust his cock inside of me.

I was completely shut down. I was doing this for him, one last time before we said goodbye, because I knew that he wanted it. Jimmy wasn’t the type to easily get girlfriends and it would be a long while before he would get laid again.

So, I went ahead with it. Not out of spite, or duty, but because I did genuinely care for him. My heart was locked up and tightly secured away, so the concept of loving anything wasn’t something I was friendly with. But I appreciated Johnny. He made me laugh every now and then, which was a rare thing and as much as he was able to, and often he would take me out and help me forget about everything that went on in the dark hell hole that I was forced to call home.

His sweaty hands clutched at my shoulders as he shuddered above me, and when I was sure he was finished, I gently wiggled out from under him. He rolled over, staring up at the ceiling with a look of utter sadness on his sweet face.

I leaned over, gave him a quick kiss on his lips and jumped up to get dressed.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Jimmy. Don’t worry about me. I’ll call you when I get settled, alright?”

“Sure,” he said, his voice full of disappointment.

My heart sank when I looked at him lying there, his cheeks wet with tears.

“Oh, Jimmy…” I didn’t know what to say to him. I wanted to somehow make him feel better, but there was no way to make this situation better than to leave quickly. Tear it off fast like a bandaid. I sighed, and took a deep breath.

I lifted my backpack onto my shoulders. It was surprisingly light, considering it contained everything I owned.

I smiled down at Jimmy one last time.

“Hey, look at me,” I said, softly.

He turned his tear-filled baby blue eyes up to me for the last time.

“I won’t forget you. I promise. We’ll see each other again soon.” I reached down, kissed him once more and looked into his eyes again. “You’re the best. Take care of yourself, Jimmy.”

I stood up, turned and walked out of his bedroom for the last time.

Outside, under the searing Texas summer heat, my boots pounded the pavement and with every step closer to the bus station, my heart thundered louder and louder in my chest. When I found myself standing in front of the ticket counter with a wad of cash and my ID in my hand, the thundering was so loud, I could barely hear the lady behind the counter talking to me.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

“Where ya headed?” she asked again, bubblegum smacking in her mouth.

“Oh. Right. Dallas, please.”

“Just one ticket?” Her ponytail shook back and forth on the top of her head with each word.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice shaking. “Just me.”

She looked at my ID, then looked back at me and smiled.

“Happy Birthday…” she searched for my name on the card, “Jill.”

When she said my given name, I flinched. The last person that called me Jill was my mother, and as the memories began to flood my head, I slammed down the imaginary gate in my head and turned my thoughts away from them as quickly as I could.

“Rebel. Everyone calls me Rebel.”

“Rebel, huh? Well, happy birthday Rebel. You’d better hurry, they’ve already started boarding.”

“Thanks.”

She handed me my ticket, my change, and my ID and I ran to the bus as quickly as I could, clutching the ticket tightly in my hand.

I gave the driver my ticket and found a seat in the back right as the engine roared to life. Moments later, the wheels started turning and I sighed a huge sigh of relief.

As I watched the sights of ugly, dirty El Paso fly by out the window, tears of happiness began pouring down my face.

I had no idea what I was going to do once I got to Dallas. I had $34 left in my pocket and a backpack full of jeans and t-shirts.

But the one thing I did know was that I never had to come back to this hideous place again. And that was fucking amazing.

This was the best fucking birthday ever.

CHAPTER THREE

Harley

My blood boiled at the sight of my best friend and little sister going at it like a couple of rabbits in the shop. By the looks of his withering wet dick hanging between his legs, he no doubt had her bent over his bike right before I walked out.

Mason had been my best friend since the first grade. Those born into the MC life tend to stay in it, and we were no exception. My dad, Red, had been the founding president of the Renegade Rebels Motorcycle Club. Mason’s dad, Teddy, was the VP. It was the only life either of us had known, and there was no end in sight.

After my dad and mom went to prison for drug trafficking and killing three cops in the bust when I was only eighteen, I came to the conclusion that the only thing I could do was join the club.

I tried to adopt Rebel, who was only 12 at the time, but the courts wouldn’t let me, and sent her off to foster care.

As much as I hated it, I let her go and I devoted my life to the MC. They didn’t let me take over right away, but they made me a prospect, and I moved up the ranks fast and easy.

Mason had been right beside me the whole way.

Running the club was in our blood - what else could we have done?

Six years and two dead presidents later, including Teddy, and I was the one sitting at the head of the table with Mason at my right, both of us looking eerily like our fathers.

Seeing Rebel again ripped open long-buried wounds that I knew would never heal. I missed our parents — hell, I missed Rebel — but she had been a little hellion from the time she came kicking and screaming out of our mama’s belly and I had to admit I felt a little relief when the judge told me I wouldn’t be allowed to raise her.

At the time, sure I was pissed. I was eighteen and I thought I knew everything. I took the judge’s denial as a slap to the face, but inside I was happy that someone else had made the decision.

I was eighteen fucking years old. I had my whole life to live, and to be honest, the last thing I wanted was some preteen girl strapping me down to a nine to five and a house payment. I didn’t know jack shit about raising a teenager, considering I was still one myself.

The judge had been right. It took me a long time to come to terms with that, but I did.

And now here she was, little Rebel all grown up and sticking her tongue down Mason’s throat.

I couldn’t fucking believe my eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rebel?”

I wanted to hug her and slap both of them all at the same time, and I was fighting to control my emotions. I knew if I took one step towards Mason, my fist would collide with his jaw.

To give him credit, he did look completely shocked and put his cock away faster than a one-legged man in a butt-kickin’ competition.

“I came to live with you, Harley.” Rebel walked over to me, tying the top of her bikini top along the way. “I’m nineteen now.”

“Live with me?” My jaw dropped before I started laughing.

Rebel didn’t appreciate my laughter and her bottom lip jutted out in a familiar pout. Not much had changed, I could see.

“No fucking way.”

“But Harley—,”

“NO!” I interrupted, before she could even start in on me. The last thing I needed was Rebel hanging around the clubhouse and getting in the way of business.

She stomped her boot on the cement, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips.

“Well, fuck, can I at least get a hug from my big brother?”

Her blue eyes were exactly like mine, and exactly like our mother’s. Memories began flooding my mind as I stared down at her.

“Yeah, sure…” I closed the distance between us, pulling her tiny body into my arms and smelling whiskey…and Mason…on her.

I pulled away quickly before she could get too comfortable.

“Thanks. So, can I hang out for a little while? I don’t have to live with you, right now.”

“Where do you live, Rebel? What happened to the Cunninghams?” I knew she had been fostered by the same family all these years.

“Live? Oh, you know…here and there. I left the Fuckingham’s on my eighteenth birthday. I don’t know how they let people like that foster children. It’s fucked up. They were awful, Harley!” Her eyes clouded over with tears as she looked at me. “I’ve been mostly hanging out on Missy’s couch for the last year. She lives in her grandma’s old house in Oak Cliff. You remember Missy, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’m sorry, Rebel.” I felt like shit, but I tried to remind myself there was nothing I could do. “I would have taken you if the judge had let me.” “I know, Harley, I know.” She wiped the tears from the corner of her eye and straightened her posture. She looked vulnerable for a moment, but she quickly regained a thick armor that I had seen a million times before. Even before our parents were sent away, Rebel had a hard side to her. She didn’t take shit from anyone, and it surprised me to see how her spirit had been broken, even if she only let it show for a second.

“Alright,” I relented, “come inside and I’ll get you a beer.”

“Whiskey,” she demanded and I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Please?”

I shook my head, knowing it wasn’t going to be easy getting rid of her this time.

“Alright, alright…”

I glared over at Mason, who had been standing there with a bewildered look on his face the whole time.

“Put your cock away, Romeo, and join us.”

“Fuck…” he replied under his breath as he followed us through the door.

CHAPTER FOUR

Rebel

Despite the look on Harley’s face when he walked in on us, I wouldn’t have traded those moments with Mason for anything.

His muscular body was a far cry from Jimmy’s, and for the first time, it felt like I had been with a real man.

Of my own choosing, that is. Mr. Fuckingham didn’t count.

What kind of real man took advantage of his foster child? He was a scumbag piece of shit, and I was so glad to be out from under his roof.

I had left a note when I left. I told Mrs. Fuckingham all about her disgusting husband, even though I had told her before, but she never believed me. Accused me of lying and instead of doing anything about it, she just beat me harder when she’d catch me spending time with Johnny, or hell, even when she’d catch me on the phone with him. They had a strict ‘no-boys’ policy for their foster daughter, and the irony was not lost on me that the vile things going on behind closed doors in that house were a stark contrast to the public face they tried to show the world.

I knew the note wouldn’t do any good, but I left it for my own well-being. I wrote it all out - every vile and disgusting act - just to cleanse myself of it.

Of course, it didn’t work. But whatever. I could deal with the memories now. A bottle of whiskey and a few pills helped along the way.

But Mason? I’d been crushing on him since I was 12. We all grew up together, and I watched them from the sidelines as they worked on bikes with our fathers. They were always trying to shoo me away, the annoying sister.

Harley was Harley, but Mason had always been the masculine one. He hit puberty first, his voice changing and hair growing on his face before anyone else in their class. By the time he and Harley were eighteen, right before the big bust, Mason looked like he was twenty-five going on forty.

Once I figured out how things worked between boys and girls, I had many the girlish fantasy of k-i-s-s-i-n-g Mason behind the clubhouse. He didn’t give me a lick of his time or attention, although he was nice when he had to be.

But when I walked up on him today? Holy shit.

At first I didn’t know it was him. I had no idea if he would be there or not when I decided to visit Harley. But when he turned around, and I saw it was him? My heart began racing like a winning thoroughbred that just ran a mile.

Oh, yes, he was definitely a real man.

He was raw masculinity, wrapped up in a huge, delicious package of thick, long black hair, leather and denim. And he tasted like whiskey.

What more could a girl want?

When I saw that he didn’t recognize me, I couldn’t help but play with him a little. I figured he would eventually recognize my voice or something, but he had no clue who I was, and he was really taking the bait when I teased him. I didn’t think he’d really bend me over his bike, but when he did, I couldn’t have been happier.

And now that I had a taste of him, I knew I was going to need a much bigger bite.

CHAPTER FIVE

Mason

Holy fuck. I was mortified!

I couldn’t believe I had just fucked my best friend’s sister — and Rebel, at that!

Watching her sitting at the table with Harley and me, drinking her whiskey straight from the bottle, those pink lips wrapping around it like a vice and batting those fuck-me baby blues at me — I was wound up like a snake about to strike.

And I felt like a complete fool.

I should have recognized her! Hell, I had known her all her life.

And yet she never looked like this before. Last time I saw her, she was just a kid. Now, she was a grown fucking woman with the best set of tits this side of the Trinity River.

Not only did I feel like a fool, but I was pissed. And turned on. And way fucking pissed. My cock was betraying me, still raging hard in my jeans and there’s nothing like being angry and horny at the same time.

How dare she take advantage of me! What kind of scheming hussy does something like that? Rebel had always been a handful, and I knew that.

I knew it when she was five and she got busted for throwing apples at the cars speeding down Harry Hines Boulevard. I knew it when she was eleven and she took all of her Barbie and Ken dolls and super-glued them to all the bikes in the shop, saying they needed hood ornaments to be prettier.

Her dad had been so pissed. And yet, she had him wrapped around her finger so tightly, he promptly forgave her. He found her constant antics amusing, which is why her gave her that nickname early on.

Rebel. She was almost like an informal mascot for the Renegade Rebels Motorcycle Club. And she loved every minute of it.

Being the only daughter of the MC president and his wife gave you a special place at the table, so to speak. Everyone watched out for her, and everyone spoiled her. And she took full advantage of the privileges.

Rebel always got what Rebel wanted.

And by the look she was giving me across the table, what she wanted this time was me.

Her eyes twinkled as she smiled, licking her lips after pulling the bottle from them.

It was going to take all my strength to resist her devilish temptation, but I knew if I didn’t, Harley would kill me.

And that thought alone was enough to make my cock wither up.

CHAPTER SIX

Harley

“Of course you can’t join the club, are you out of your mind, Rebel?”

“No, Harley, I’m not. Dad almost let Mom join.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Dad, am I?”

Pain and disappointment crossed her face as she pleaded with me.

“Just tell me why not then!” She was pouting, tears springing to her eyes. I groaned inwardly, the last thing I wanted to do today was sit across from my little sister and make her cry.

“Because you’re a girl, Rebel! You’re barely eighteeen—.”

“I’m NINEteen, Harley!” She interrupted, her voice so high-pitched it hurt my ears.

“Okay, okay, whatever. You are still way too fucking young. And you know the rule - no women allowed!”

“Yeah, well, you’re the president, you can change the rules anytime you like.” “No, I can’t. You know we’d have to take a vote, and no member in his right mind is going to agree to having a woman in the club. So stop fucking asking me!”

She was pissing me off and my sympathy for her was running low.

“Now, let’s figure out another plan for you. You can still stay at Missy’s right? Do you have a job?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve been looking and looking. I was waiting tables for a while at a diner on Greenville, but they fired me.”

If her bottom lip got any bigger, it was going to fall off her face.

“Look, stop pouting, Rebel! I don’t know what gave you the idea I would let you join the club, so I refuse to feel like shit because you were so misguided. Keep looking for a job, and go back to Missy’s. It sounds like you’re on the right track.” I reached in my back pocket, pulled a wad of cash out of my wallet and handed it to her.

She took it and tucked it inside her bikini top.

“And for fuck’s sake, buy some fucking clothes.”

“Harley, I wish you’d reconsider. Let me just hang out for a while. I could help out here. I could clean the shop, or run errands or —.”

“Or what? Stick around and keep fucking Mason?”

She looked like I had slapped her across the face. Closing her mouth slowly, her bottom lip quivered and tears fell down her cheeks as she stood up and headed straight for the door without another word.

We watched her go, and Mason punched my arm.

“Dude. Come on. Let her stay. I can control myself.”

“Fuck you, Mason.” I said, my anger at him growing as I stood up and walked into my office, slamming the door behind me.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rebel

I sat at the bus stop on Harry Hines Boulevard, right outside the clubhouse, waiting for the next bus to Oak Cliff.

I had lied when I said I was staying with Missy. When I first got back to Dallas, I had gone looking for her, but couldn’t find her. I had spent a year on the streets, because I wanted to try to make it on my own, without resorting to begging Harley for help.

I had failed miserably, and the streets were beyond brutal. Almost as brutal as the foster home, but not quite. I could live with the scary nights under the bridge a lot easier than I could with Mr. Fuckingham coming into my room at night.

Anything was better than that.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired of it. I had tried to find jobs, but I had no experience and nobody wanted to hire a homeless nineteen year-old girl. If it hadn’t been for begging people for change, I wouldn’t have been able to feed myself. And some days, even that didn’t work.

Which is why I found myself here today, sitting outside of Harley’s clubhouse, my last resort. And even he had refused to help me.

I was grateful for the cash, but it sure would have been nice to have a bed for a night.

I would have to come up with a new plan. In the meantime, I was going to sit here and wait for the bus, and do my best not to think about the fire in Mason’s eyes as he dropped that whiskey bottle on the ground and kissed me.

His lips had been red-hot and soft, which was not what I expected at all. I don’t know what I expected, really. I really had just shown up to talk to Harley, but Mason was standing there, towering over me like a sex god with those damned green eyes of his — and I just couldn’t help myself.

I wished I had done it differently now, though. Maybe if Harley hadn’t walked in on us, he wouldn’t have thrown such a hissy fit and he would have let me stay.

Instead, I managed to show him that I was just as much trouble as I always was.

I just couldn’t seem to make anything work. Being an adult was much fucking harder than anyone ever made it seem.

I took a deep breath, reminded myself once again that where I was was a million times better than where I came from and wiped the tears from my cheeks.

Harley could go fuck himself.

I didn’t need him.

“Hey.”

I jumped at his voice, my head so lost in my own depressing thoughts that I didn’t hear Mason come up behind me.

He sat down next to me, and I could smell myself on him. My body trembled from being this close to him again, and my breath caught in my throat. Damn it, why did he have this effect on me? It was exciting and annoying all at the same time.

The last thing I needed was to be crushing on my brother’s best friend like a school girl. I needed to get my shit together, find a place to live and a job and then maybe I could think about finding someone to spend some time with.

But definitely not Mason. Never, ever Mason.

“I wish you had told me it was you,” he said, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him over the traffic flying by in front of the bus stop.

“Sorry,” I replied. “You’re right, I should have.”

“Yeah…” His eyes searched mine, and I suddenly felt like a shy kid again. “So do you want a ride to Missy’s?”

“Oh….well, thanks for the offer. I…um…”

“It’s no trouble. Just don’t tell Harley,” he winked at me, his grin spreading across his face, his eyes twinkling. God, he was so fucking handsome. Why couldn’t Harley’s best friend be ugly?

“No, that’s not it.” I wasn’t sure if I should tell him the truth or not. I had only said I was staying at Missy’s so Harley wouldn’t be worried, and now I wished I had never said it at all. Maybe if I hadn’t, he would have let me stay.

“Then what is it? Do you need a ride somewhere else?” Mason’s eyes were going to be the end of me. I looked away, his gentleness just too much for me to take.

“Well…I don’t exactly have anywhere to go.” There, I said it. He could tell Harley if he wanted, I didn’t give a shit.

“What about Missy?”

“I lied.”

“Oh. I see,” he replied, staring at me with curiosity. “Where have you been staying then?”

“Oh, you know…here and there.”

“No, I don’t know, Rebel.” The look on his face was a mixture of concern and irritation. “Where have you been staying? How long have you been back in Dallas?” “A year. I left on my eighteenth birthday. I couldn’t get away fast enough, and every time I ran away, they just sent me back. Once I was legal, I left. That was a year ago last week.”

“So you’ve been here for a year without a place to live?”

“Pretty much.” I jutted my chin up, determined not to let him make me feel bad about myself. “But I can handle it.”

He scoffed at that.

“Is that so? Your begging to join the club earlier makes me believe you’re lying again. You have a hard time telling the truth, huh, Rebel?”

Mason had been around through my childhood and all the way through the humiliation of puberty, laughing and making fun of my antics right along with the rest of my family. I wasn’t exactly known for my honesty.

I sulked next to him, hating how easily he could make me feel like an awkward, fucked-up adolescent.

“The truth is overrated,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Listen, Harley’s just mad because he caught us…um…kissing. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you stay with him, but you can forget about ever actually joining the club. Family or not, you’re still a girl…um, woman, I mean.” His eyes raked across my body, and I glanced down to see his cock rising in his pants.

My nipples hardened as I recalled the feel of him thrusting into me from behind earlier. These feelings were much more enjoyable than feeling like a kid next to him.

“Look, Rebel, Harley hasn’t seen you since you were a little kid. He still sees you that way, and he will until you show him something different.” His cock grew harder in his pants as he continued, his eyes meeting mine as he pulled them away from my breasts. “I already had a chance to see you as…something different…so it’s already different for me.”

“Now, you should have told me that was you. I never would have touched you, if I had known. But, goddamn, if you don’t look different, Rebel.” His eyes grew serious as he stared at me. “You look good, though.”

“But listen, I feel like this is my fault. If Harley hadn’t seen that, things might have turned out differently. And there’s no way we can let you stay on the street another night. You should’ve come here sooner.”

“Yeah…I guess.” My heart filled with hope when he said I could stay.

“But you can’t stay at the clubhouse, either.”

“Why not? I’ll be fine. I practically grew up there!”

“Well, that’s when you were a just a kid. It’s not much of a place for a nineteen year-old girl to hang out. There’s a lot of horny dudes there.”

“Including you?” I asked him teasingly.

“Yeah, including me. Fuck. Listen, that can’t happen again. Harley is pissed now, but if it happens again, now that I know it’s you, he’ll fucking knock my head off.”

“Well, Mason, Harley hasn’t been around me for a long time, so as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t get the privilege of pretending to be the protective big brother. I can do whatever…and whoever…I want.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but trust me, Rebel - it’s never happening again, you got it?” “Sure, sure, whatever.”

“Okay, good. Now that we’re clear, you can stay at my house until Harley cools off, then we’ll ask him if you can stay with him. Maybe I can help you get a job and an apartment. But in the meantime, you can hang at my place. I have an extra bedroom you can use.”

I threw my arms around his neck, bouncing with excitement, the satin fabric of my bikini rubbing against his leather vest.

“Oh, thank you, Mason!” I said, pulling back.

The snap on his vest caught my bikini top, pulling it down as I backed away. My breast fell out, my hardened nipple protruding in the breeze.

We both looked down at it, motionless. Slowly, I raised my hand to cover my breast and raised my eyes to meet Mason’s gaze. I bit my bottom lip and batted my eyes at him.

“Whoops. Sorry about that…” I whispered.

He groaned, his gaze fiercely fixed on mine.

“Watch yourself, baby girl. Watch yourself. Come on,” he commanded gruffly.

I’d rather watch you, I thought, as he stood up and walked away.

As I followed closely behind him, his muscular ass provided me with the best view I’d had in a long, long time.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mason

Flying down Central Expressway with Rebel’s arms wrapped around my waist, I reminded myself that I tried to let her walk away. But something in the way her lip quivered when Harley yelled at her tore me up, and I couldn’t help but feel responsible.

I knew Harley had been worried about her. He had mentioned her often over the years, expressing his disappointment, guilt and regret at the way things turned out. It was hard on him, and I knew it.

And he knew I never would have fucked his little sister if I had known it was her.

But I had fucked her. Hard. She had turned into quite the little sexy vixen over the years, and I wished like hell she had been someone else.

I should have known, though. By her eyes. Her voice. Something had nagged at me about her, and I should have listened to my fucking instincts before I bent her over my bike. But the way she had fingered the leather on the bikes had turned me on in a way I hadn’t felt in years, and when she untied that bikini top, there was no turning back.

And goddamn, it was fucking amazing. Even if it was incredibly wrong.

My body was in a constant fight between my raging cock and my guilty spirit, as I watched her walk out of the parking lot and sit at the bus stop.

Harley had been rough on her, and it was all my fault.

I had only intended to give her a ride, but when she said she didn’t have a place to live, I felt like even more of an asshole. I was positive that if Harley knew that, he wouldn’t let her spend another night on the streets.

But he was in no shape to change his mind right now. Maybe if he hadn’t been tortured with the vision of his best friend making out with his sister, he might be a little more willing to listen. But if there was one thing I knew about Harley, then it was to stay far, far away from him when he’s angry.

It would all be alright. Rebel could stay in my extra bedroom for a few days, we’d talk to Harley again, and then she could go stay with him until she found a job. She just needed a little stability and support, and she would be fine.

The hot Texas sun beat down on us as we sat in traffic on the expressway. Sweat was pouring down my back, and while I normally wouldn’t even notice much, I couldn’t help but think about it with Rebel’s practically naked breasts smashed against my back.

When her tit fell out again at the bus stop, it took all my willpower not to touch her again. Visions of scooping her up and bending her over my bike again filled my head, and I had surprised even myself with my steel resolve.

She was not going to be a easy one to resist, especially now that I had a taste of her sweet body. I was determined, but I was beginning to see a lot of cold showers in my future.

Hopefully, Harley would cool off sooner than later, because if my cock stayed this engorged all the time she was around, I was going to have a serious problem.

We sat idly in a long line of cars, barely inching along. Rebel’s hand slipped down, the need for holding on tightly abandoned for the moment. Her hands rested on my thighs, inches from my pulsing cock, and I took a deep breath and willed my erection to go away.

It was impossible. Those tits on my back, her breath on my neck, and the pressure of her thighs on the outside of my own - I knew if she were to touch my cock at that moment, it would explode right there on the expressway.

And I think she knew it, too. She kept wiggling around behind me, her every movement an assault on my senses.

“Can’t you be still?” I yelled, turning my head so she could hear me through my helmet.

“I’m just trying to get comfortable. I haven’t been on a bike in a really long time. It feels so good, Mason!” She wiggled more, her nipples poking into my back.

I groaned, shook my head, and tried to think of something, anything, that would keep me distracted.

My cock grew even harder in my jeans, and I knew I was in for a major challenge.

CHAPTER NINE

Harley

“Fuck!”

I slammed my fist in the wall, cussing at the top of my lungs. I knew the other members could hear me, but I didn’t give a shit. I was pissed, and it was best if everyone knew it, so they could stay out of my way.

Especially Mason.

Fuck Mason. What a fucking moron. Did he have such little control over his prick that he couldn’t keep it in his fucking pants long enough to ask a girl her name?

“Goddammit!” I yelled, hitting the wall again. My knuckles were bleeding, but the pain felt good. It masked the pain I felt inside, helped me ignore the creeping guilt for turning Rebel away.

I knew my old man would be pissed when he heard about it, but fuck him too. Maybe he and my mom should have been more careful before getting locked up in the fucking pen while they still had kids to raise.

What did he expect me to do? I was the president now, and the decisions were mine to make. Of course Rebel couldn’t join the fucking club. Was she out of her mind?

Sure, I guess I could have let her stay with me, but when I saw her standing there with her tits out, her tongue down Mason’s throat like she was trying to crawl inside, I just couldn’t think straight.

I was so pissed at Mason, and I knew it was going to take me a long time to get over it. If I had thought for one minute that he knew it was my kid sister, then he wouldn’t have been standing.

I couldn’t blame him too much, though. Fuck, I didn’t even recognize her myself. She looked like a completely different person. All grown up. For the most part, that is. That pouty look she gave me when I told her she couldn’t stay turned her right back into a twelve year old in my head.

“Motherfucker!” If I kept punching the wall, I was going to break a hand. And at this point, the pain wasn’t doing it’s job anyway.

I took a deep breath and sat down at my desk, wiping the blood from my fingers with a dirty bandana. I pulled a bottle of whiskey from my desk drawer, drawing on it slowly as I remembered Rebel when she was a little kid.

She had always been a pain in the ass, but I loved her. When my parents brought her home from the hospital, I was only six years old, and I was fascinated by her every movement and sound. When she bellowed out her first belly laugh, it was me that she was laughing at. I played with her for hours, and after I got older, and my parents got busier, I ended up being the one watching over her most of the time.

Unfortunately, once I got to be a teenager, she became a nuisance to me as my priorities shifted and I wanted to be out running with the other teen boys in the neighborhood, including Mason, and while I tried to stay as nice as possible, I began to resent being the one in charge of her. I wanted to be a normal teenager, not saddled with a kid.

I resented her, and I resented my parents. And when they went away, after everything that went down, I felt bad for Rebel, but I hoped she could find a way to adjust to life in a ‘normal’ family.

I hoped she would change her name back to Jill, not use the stupid nickname my father gave her after he started the MC. He said it ‘fit’ her, but my mother hated it. When Mom insisted on continuing to call her Jill, Rebel rejected her real name even more, embracing the new moniker with a vengeance, determined to live up to her name every single day.

And she did. She got in trouble at school. The cops would bring her home weekly - once she had broken into the school office to try to steal the petty cash, and another time she tried to walk out of Sears with a brand new pair of boots on her feet. She was really good at getting in trouble.

But Dad seemed to be proud of her efforts, he said he admired her spirit. And it only fueled the fire in her. She yearned for his attention, and yet as she got older, less cute and more rebellious, he turned away from her, claiming he was too busy with the club to spend any time with her.

And it hurt her. She tried not to let us see, but I could see right through her. Unfortunately, I was singing the same tune as my dad, turning eighteen and knee deep in the daily search for weed and pussy. Then, the bust happened, and our entire family was torn apart, eliminating even the appearance of a family unit.

I took another draw from the bottle, and lit up a joint that was lying on my desk. As I inhaled the sweet smoke, I remembered that day like it was yesterday.

Rebel, Mason and I were at the clubhouse, hanging out and playing pool. It was Rebel’s twelfth birthday, and we were celebrating by doing what we did most days. Just the three of us, passing the time in whatever way caught our attention first. We loved being at the clubhouse. We didn’t think anything of the constantly inebriated club members, the cussing, the pot smoke or booze drenched floors — it was comfortable, because it was all we had ever known.

Mason and I were in the middle of a game, and Rebel was in the corner, painting her fingernails black. She had spent the last six months in her goth stage, refusing to wear anything that wasn’t black. Even her lips were smeared with black lipstick, and her eyes were lined with thick black eyeliner.

The three of us jumped when we heard the first loud bang at the heavy, locked door of the clubhouse.

“Under the table!” I screamed at Mason and Rebel, pulling them under the pool table for protection. I don’t know why I thought to go under the table, instead of running out the back door, but that’s what we did.

We huddled under there, watching the gruesome scene unfold before us. I tried to shield Rebel’s eyes, but she fought me, insisting she needed to see what was going on.

My dad came out of his office, a shotgun in his hands, just as the battering ram succeeded in bashing the door open. Bright sunlight steamed in, silhouetting the cops decked out in full riot gear. They trailed in, one after the other, dozens of them, screaming at the top of their lungs, forcing the MC members down on the floor.

My dad was having none of it. He opened fire, screaming right back at the cops, shooting whatever he could hit before they reached him and shoved him to the ground. We watched, shuddering in fear, as the cops beat the shit out of him, kicking him in the head and ribs, blood pouring out of his mouth as they handcuffed him.

They found mom huddled in the closet in the office, surrounded by bricks of cocaine and cash. Luckily, they didn’t hurt her, even though she did her best to hurl every cuss word and insult that she could think of at them. I think she was even more insulted that they just laughed at her as they handcuffed her.

By the time the cops found us under the table, Rebel was crying and shaking with fear. I felt terrible for her, and I was scared too. I knew my parents were going away for a long time once I saw the three dead cops lying on the ground. All I can remember is thinking at the time is how grateful I was that I was eighteen so I could take care of Rebel.

But things didn’t go that way.

And now here we were. Seven years later and she shows up at my club, and this time, no courts could get in the way of me helping her.

And what do I do? I yell at her and send her away again.

What a wonderful brother I was.

“Son of a bitch!” I threw the bottle of whiskey against the door, the glass shattering on the floor.

Chapter Ten

Rebel

Mason’s house was just what I expected. Bare, masculine, and no frills. But it was a house. With a roof. And a bed that was all mine to sleep in.

“I’m so thankful for this, Mason,” I said to him as we made dinner together that night. We hadn’t been there long before he started pulling steaks out of the fridge and turning on the grill outside. “You don’t have to go to all this trouble, though, really.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I figure it’s been a while since you had a good meal.”

He was right. It all looked so good, and I was starved. But it did seem like a little much. I felt terrible for deceiving him earlier, even if it had felt like heaven at the time. He was being so nice now, and I didn’t feel like I deserved it.

But it was a far cry from the bridge I had slept under last night, so I wasn’t about to turn it down. If it weren’t for the enticing sight of Mason, still wearing his cut and standing in the kitchen chopping vegetables, I would have already been tucked between the clean sheets of the bed in his guest room. I couldn’t wait to feel the cool cotton sliding across my feet.

“Listen, Rebel, why don’t you go take a shower while I cook? You have some other clothes in that backpack of yours?” His gaze raked across my chest again, making the bikini top I was wearing seem incredibly inappropriate.

“Um…sure, that’d be nice, thanks.” I felt like a fool. A silly little girl going into the clubhouse playing dress up and causing my plan to go completely awry. I drank in the sight of Mason once more, and I forgave myself quickly, though. How could I have ever resisted this man?

I sighed, and walked back into the living room, grabbing my backpack and heading for the bathroom. A shower sounded incredible.

“You can find clean towels in the cabinet!” Mason yelled after me as I walked down the hallway.

As I passed by his bedroom, I looked over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t watching me, and tiptoed into his room, putting my backpack on the floor.

It smelled like him. His whole house did. Whiskey. Leather. The faint smell of sweat and masculinity. My body ached at the memory of him sliding into me, and once again, I shuddered with yearning for more as I slowly walked around his room, looking at his things.

The bedroom was simple and sparse. An unmade bed was pushed against the wall, and a chest of drawers was against the opposite wall. I walked over to it, and picked up a photograph of him and Harley when they were eighteen. It must have been taken right around the time our parents went away. I remembered them like this. It was disarming to see both of them as grown men now.

Especially Mason. I didn’t think anyone could get any manlier than him. My nipples hardened as I looked over at his bed, and I wondered how many women he had taken to bed here. My heart swelled with pain thinking about it.

What the hell was wrong with me? He’s my brother’s best friend — hell he’s practically family to me, and the last thing I needed was to be obsessing over him.

I turned to walk out of the room and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Mason standing in the doorway watching me.

“Oh, sorry…I was just looking around. I saw this picture of you and Harley and thought I’d check it out.”

“Yeah, it seems like so long ago, doesn’t it? That was taken right around the last time I saw you.”

“Yes, it does. I guess we’re both different people now, huh?”

Mason smiled, his eyes lighting up as he looked at me.

“Well, baby girl, you certainly are. I still feel like the same kid in that picture.”

“Oh, no, Mason,” I looked him up and down, my body aching for his touch. “You’ve grown up quite a lot yourself.”

He cocked his head, looking at me with a strange mixture of curiosity and desire.

“Well, grown ups or not, here we are. Don’t worry about Harley, he’ll come around.”

“Yeah…” I said, walking past him and out of his bedroom. As I got nearer to him, the heat and scent of him radiated from his hulking frame and although I knew I should ask him to move so I could get by without having to rub up against him, no words came out of my mouth. I slithered past him, my breasts scraping across his arm suggestively.

I looked up at him, and as our eyes met, the chemistry between us was thick and undeniable. Poor Mason looked like a tiger caught in a cage, and I felt just a little bit sorry for him. I was teasing him, I knew it. But I just couldn’t get past the growing desire of wanting him to bend me over and slam his perfect cock into me again.

I smiled up at him, feigning innocence, and raising myself up on my tiptoes, I kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks for everything, Mason. You’re the best.”

I quickly slipped down the hall and shut the bathroom door behind me before I succumbed to my desire to fall to my knees in front of him.

I wanted another taste of him so badly now, and I didn’t care for one fucking moment whether Harley approved or not.

I showered slowly, luxuriating in the warm water. I had done my best to stay as clean as possible, but it wasn’t easy on the streets. Several days a week, I went to the women’s shelter and showered and washed my long, black hair. But the water was always cold and they only let you take five minute showers. Luckily, they let you do laundry there, too, so I had clean clothes to change into.

When I was done, I dried off and then realized I had left my backpack inside Mason’s bedroom. I wrapped a towel around myself and padded down the hallway to his room, my wet hair dripping around my shoulders.

When I walked into his room, I froze. A very hot, very muscular, very naked Mason stood with his back to me, pulling a clean t-shirt over his head. His was all sinewy muscle and he possessed the most perfect masterpiece of an ass I had ever seen. His body was massive, and I realized he must spend hours working out to look like that.

When I first saw him in the shop, he never took off his clothes, and seeing him now standing in front of me naked as a jaybird, my hands began shaking. I stood frozen in place as I continued watching him.

He sensed my presence after a moment, turning to me after he slipped on his jeans.

“Are you enjoying your peep show, baby girl?” He cocked his eyebrow at me, and walked past me completely unfazed.

Fuck! How was I ever going to resist this man? He was a serious distraction for a girl who was trying to get her shit together, and now I was stuck with him for a few days waiting for Harley to come to his senses. By the looks of Mason’s swollen shaft bulging in his jeans, he was having just as hard of a time as I was.

I smirked at his back, not fooled by his aloofness one bit. Scooping up my backpack, I walked into the guest room and began unpacking my things.

I didn’t have much — three pairs of jeans, five t-shirts, four pairs of underwear, one bra, and two pairs of socks, in addition to the denim skirt and bikini top I had been wearing earlier. I pulled it all out, folding them carefully and placing them in the empty dresser against the wall.

And then I pulled out my most prized possession. Our family portrait, however untraditional it was. Mason had taken this photo, actually, and I laughed out loud at the memory of that day.

I was ten, Harley was sixteen. We had an old dog then, our beloved German Shepherd, Lucy. Dad had insisted on taking a family picture in front of his bike, and the black Harley gleamed in the background behind the four of us, with Lucy sitting at our feet. Mom had curled her hair and put on bright red lipstick, her tight jeans hugging her curves and showing off her perfect figure. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. I missed her dearly.

In the photo, Dad wore full leathers, the club patches proudly sewn into his cut. I had always admired his cut, and even back then, I knew I wanted to be an MC member and have one of my own. It had never seemed fair to me that women couldn’t join, but after the bust, and the violence I saw that day, I understood perfectly, even if I didn’t like it.

Later that year, my dad bought me a black leather vest, and no matter how much I begged, he wouldn’t put any patches on it for me. Much to my mom’s dismay, I wore that thing for a solid year.

I placed the photo on the nightstand next to the bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and a snug fitting t-shirt, opting to leave the bra behind. Mason would just have to deal with it.

I walked out of my room, and followed the incredible smell of grilled meat. Mason was standing out on his deck, holding a pair of tongs and drinking a beer as he monitored the steaks.

“Almost ready, baby girl.”

I should have been upset that he was calling me both a baby and a girl, but the way he kept saying it made my nipples harden every time.

As I watched him take a drink of his beer, my gaze fell on his lips and I desperately yearned for him to kiss me again. Once again, I cursed Harley.

Who was he to tell me who I could sleep with? Here I was, forced to hang out with Mason, and I couldn’t fuck him?

To hell with that.

I decided, along with my yearning body, that I would have Mason again if it killed me. I was tired of denying myself pleasure. My life had been a whole big mess of pain, and if I had the opportunity to enjoy myself for a few days, why should I refuse that?

What Harley didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. And if Harley didn’t know, then he wouldn’t kill me and Mason either.

“Can I have one of those?” I asked Mason, pointing to his beer.

“Yeah, sure, why not? Help yourself, they’re in the fridge.”

“Thanks!” I flashed him my prettiest smile and turned to walk back into the house, swaying my hips as I did so, hoping like hell he was watching.

When I returned with two beers, I handed him one of them.

“Looks like you could use another.” His bottle was almost empty, and I saw three other empty bottles on the table. Apparently, he was a drinker. So was I. Maybe that would work to my advantage.

“Thanks, baby girl.” I cringed, feeling my nipples harden again, and crossed my legs as I sat on his lawn chair as he turned the steaks over.

“You’re welcome, Mason,” I said, sweetly, smiling at him. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Nope, I’ve got it all taken care of.” He cut into a piece of steak, juices flowing down into the fire and sizzling. “Looks like we’re done here.”

He turned off the grill, placed the steaks on a platter and walked back inside. I grabbed our beers, followed him, sat at the table he had already set, and looked across at him.

“They look delicious. You’re right, I haven’t had a good meal in a while, this is amazing!” He beamed at me across the table, his smile like an electric shock to my very core.

“Then dig in, baby girl!”

And I did. We ate and drank, talking about the old days in between bites, and laughing at our shared memories. It was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who knew where I came from, who remembered the same things I did.

Someone who understood.

By the time we finished dinner, I had downed two more beers, and I asked Mason if he had any whiskey.

“Of course I have whiskey,” he said, “but don’t you think that’s a little heavy for you?” “Seriously?” I asked, surprised that he would think I was a lightweight. “Did you forget who drank both you and Harley under the table when I was eleven?”

We laughed at the memory, and then he immediately embarrassed me by reminding me of the end of that evening.

“Yeah, and who ended up puking in the bushes afterwards?”

“Okay, okay, you got me. But I’ve had a lot of whiskey since then, so I promise I won’t puke this time.”

He looked at me, smiling, his eyes filled with amusement.

“Alright, alright…it’s in the cabinet over the sink.”

“Stay put. I’ll get it.” Once again, I walked over to the kitchen, exaggerating the sway of my hips, hoping I was enticing him and not looking like a fool.

I grabbed the bottle of Maker’s Mark, found two shot glasses, and returned to the table. Pouring a shot for him first, I handed it to him before I poured one for myself and raised my glass to him.

“Cheers!”

“Cheers?” he said, looking slightly confused. “What are we celebrating exactly?” “We’re celebrating me. The return of me!” We both laughed, and clinked our glasses together. I was a little more than tipsy at this point, and yet I didn’t care. It felt good. And when I tipped my head back, pouring the delicious liquid down my throat, I welcomed the burn. It had been a very long time since I had decent whiskey and it was like a fuzzy old friend.

“More, more!” I said, pouring another and then another as we sat there, going back through our history with funny anecdotes that only he and Harley and I would remember. It made me wish Harley was there with us for a moment. Until I looked over at Mason and caught his gaze again, his green eyes darkening with a restrained desire and I was suddenly grateful that Harley was nowhere around to fuck up my plan.

I wanted Mason all to myself. And right now seemed like the best time to have him.

I began to flirt with him again, my hand lightly brushing his as we talked and laughed.

“You know, Mason,” I said, my fingers running along his arm as I watched him carefully. He didn’t move away so I continued. “When I saw you at the shop earlier, surrounded by all those bikes, I couldn’t help myself…” I let my voice trail off, hoping he would pick up the ball if I rolled it over to him.

“You couldn’t, huh?” His eyes were glassy and he slurred his words a little, but he was still perfectly alert. “You like bikes that much, huh?”

I smiled at his question.

“I like bikes, sure, but…” my hand fell to his denim-clad thigh, and I ran my hand up and down it as I leaned in close to him. “It was you, Mason.”

“Me?” he asked, watching my hand slide along his thigh.

“Yes. I never expected you to grow up…so…so…well, fuck, you are just so fucking hot, I couldn’t resist.” I batted my eyes at him, my hand slowly moving toward his crotch.

He swallowed hard, his intense stare turning darker and darker as he looked at me seriously.

“Rebel…” he said, his voice a dark familiar warning that I completely ignored.

“I mean, fuck, Mason, you’re just about the hottest motherfucker I’ve ever seen, you know?” My hand traveled further up his thigh, inches from his growing erection. “I never expected you would look like this.”

I was pleased with myself, and my yearning for him turned to a painful ache deep inside of me as I continued to tease him.

“Yeah, well, Rebel, you don’t look anything like I expected either.” He looked down at my breasts, my hard nipples threatening to poke through the cotton shirt I was wearing.

“No, I bet I don’t. I’m not a twelve year old little girl anymore, Mason.”

“No, you certainly aren’t. I can see that. You proved that earlier, baby girl.” He looked down, meeting my eyes at the exact moment that my hand cupped his massive cock, the heat radiating through his jeans as he throbbed under my touch.

He groaned as I squeezed him lightly through the denim and before I could do it again, he grasped my hand, pulled it away, and placed it on the table in front of him.

“No, Rebel. We talked about this, remember?” He stood up abruptly, his cock straining to be free from his jeans, a look of pure pain crossing his face.

I stood up, too, placing my hand on his hard chest.

“Mason, come on,” I said, trying my best to sound seductive. I didn’t have a lot of practice at this, but I was determined to be successful. If he couldn’t resist me the first time, then how could he resist me now?

“No,” he said quietly.

I arched my back, my breasts rubbing against him.

“Harley never has to know. I promise I won’t tell, Mason.” I smiled, and then pulling myself up on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to his.

He groaned against me, his hand quickly snaking around and sinking into my hair as he gave in and pulled me into him, kissing me back forcefully, his lips kneading at my lips, his tongue sliding into my mouth, searching and mingling with mine. I moaned, his passion rising quickly and almost violently as he kissed me even harder.

It almost hurt, but I didn’t care. I fucking loved it. It was exactly what I wanted, and exactly the person I wanted it from.

I kissed him back with as much intensity as he gave, wanting him, wanting all of him. Needing him, wanting to lie under him, and give into his every need. All other thoughts melted away as he kissed me with such a fiery passion that his kiss turned into a whirlwind of yearning and power that took my breath away.

When he tore his lips from mine, I whimpered and looked up at him as he stepped back. He shook his head, and I saw that his eyes were filled with passion and confusion.

“We can’t…” he muttered. “I can’t…”

He turned abruptly and walked down the hallway, leaving me standing alone, unsatisfied and yearning for more, as he deserted me in the kitchen.

When I heard his bedroom door slam shut, I sank into the chair and took a long drink of whiskey straight from the bottle to console myself.

It was going to be a long, lonely night.

Chapter Eleven

Mason

I awoke to the wretched sound of puking.

Great. Just fucking great. Like this wasn’t hard enough already, now I was going to have to babysit Rebel through her hangover. I knew I should have cut her off way before the whiskey started flowing last night.

I groaned when I remembered kissing her before I fled to my room. That was almost the dumbest thing I had ever done, second only to fucking her in the shop yesterday. I couldn’t get close to her, and I had to resist her no matter how hard it was to tear myself away from her undulating body.

She had grown up to be a fucking goddess. Which is what was making this whole thing really fucking difficult. Not to mention that I felt so comfortable in her presence that when we got to walking down memory lane last night and laughing at all of our shared memories, it made it easy to forget how wrong all of this was.

I wanted her. There was no denying that. I wanted her sitting across the table from me, devouring steak like a hungry woman. I wanted her flashing that irresistible smile at me and laughing at my jokes. I wanted her naked and in my bed, freshly fucked and wearing a satisfied grin that I put there.

But I couldn’t have any of these things.

My cock was hard before I had even opened my eyes, and as I listened to her puke in the bathroom down the hall, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. I contemplated going in to see if she needed any help, but I stayed put in bed.

I was torn between wanting to make fun of her like I would have if she had still been a kid, and wanting to take care of her and treat her like the woman that she had become.

I decided to wait it out and leave her alone. She was a grown woman, she should be able to take care of herself, right?

I hadn’t meant to kiss her. I had meant to go to bed a lot earlier than I did, for the sole purpose of avoiding a scene like that. But as our night wore on, I thought less and less of Harley, and more and more of my relentlessly growing need.

Fuck! At least I didn’t fuck her again. I had been about an inch away from ripping off her clothes and fucking her right there on my kitchen table. Her lips tasted like peaches, and I could only imagine how the rest of her tasted.

In fact, I couldn’t help but imagine it. This woman was going to be the death of me, literally, if I couldn’t keep my shit together and resist every thought of devouring her sweet, perfect young flesh.

I heard the shower running after a while. My door was still closed, and I reached down between my legs, grasping my throbbing cock and stroking it, hoping for some kind of release before I had to face her again and spend the whole fucking day trying to resist those damned blue eyes of hers.

There was something about the way she looked at me that completely disarmed me. I wanted to save her, help her somehow, and take away that haunted look of pain in her pretty eyes.

Life just wasn’t fair sometimes, and as much as I felt bad for her, I had to keep reminding myself that she was just a big mess of bad news. There wasn’t much I could do except try to convince Harley to let her stay with him. But if Harley found out I had kissed her again, he wouldn’t be happy. And if Harley wasn’t happy, then none of the club members would be happy.

And that wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Not at all.

After a few frustrating moments, I gave up on finding any release. All I could think of was Rebel, and my body would accept no substitute.

I jumped at a soft knock at my bedroom door. My cock was raging, and I covered up quickly as the door cracked open. So much for manners, I thought. She could have waited till I told her to come in.

She was quite the vision — her hair soaking wet, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her curves — and I groaned with pain when I realized she was practically naked and walking over to my bed.

One look at her green face, though, and I was right back to feeling sorry for her. She walked over to me, holding her stomach and sat down on the bed next to me. I put a pillow over my crotch, hoping to hide my massive hard-on.

“I’m so sorry about last night, Mason.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t be kissing like that,” I replied.

“Oh, no…I wasn’t apologizing for that. I was apologizing for getting so drunk.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, well, whatever. Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. Maybe after some breakfast? Can I make you breakfast?”

I hadn’t had a woman cook for me for a long time. I tended to not be the type of lover to spend the night with women, making sure they were gone way before the sun came up. It wasn’t easy being in a relationship and helping Harley run the club, so I shied away from spending too much time with any one woman.

But having breakfast cooked for me sounded fantastic, so I wasn’t about to complain.

“That would be great, Rebel. There’s eggs and bacon in the fridge. I’m…um…I’m going to take a shower.”

A very cold shower, I thought to myself, my cock growing even larger as I took in her supple, bare thighs, her ass peeking out of the bottom of the towel as she walked out of the room.

This was going to be a hell of a lot more difficult than I thought.

Chapter Twelve

Harley

I sat at the head of the table in what we called the ‘war room’ at the clubhouse. It was a large room with a big heavy table in the middle, our MC logo carved in the middle of it by Big John, one of the founding members that died long ago.

It was in this room that we hashed out our business details. A sacred space with some very intense history. Nothing happened in this club without a majority vote, and sometimes even that involved a certain level of force or coercion, but for the most part, it was pretty fucking democratic, if you asked me.

I was proud of the club. When I first joined, I thought I didn’t have any other choices in life. Now I knew better, but after a few years under my belt of sitting at the head of the table, there was nothing in the world I would rather be doing.

Sure, the work was rough, and sometimes violent. It was a life lived on the edge of death, a risk most men wouldn’t take. But men like Mason and I were made for this lifestyle. When you grow up around it, it seeps into your every pore, whether you want it to or not. And, as they say — with great risk, comes great reward.

As I watched my tattooed brothers trail in through the door, taking a seat one by one at this massive table, I grew thankful for the opportunity to be here. As much as I still held onto resentment for my old man, I knew if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have all of this.

And the rewards were definitely great. Money, bikes, all the drinking and drugging I could handle, and as much pussy as I could fuck. Most of all, the brotherhood I felt between this group of men was unbreakable. There was something about having a group of big, fearless, strong men backing up your every move that caused you to be fearless yourself. We were stronger together. Together, we were invincible. And nothing felt more powerful than that.

Power.

That’s what I had. Power over the club, power over the people we offered protection to, power over the people we did business with, and power over our enemies.

It was heady stuff.

And I loved every fucking powerful minute of it.

Today was no different. Some serious shit needed to be addressed and dealt with and it wasn’t going to pretty.

Mason was the last to arrive, and when he sat down, he avoided my eyes as he greeted me quietly.

“Harley.” He nodded to me, settled into his seat, and stared straight ahead. I knew he felt like an asshole, as he well should. I decided to let him stew in it for awhile.

“Alright, let’s get down to business.” I started by explaining to the men that the situation we had to deal with was serious and potentially very dangerous. Handling it required the utmost care and caution.

“Our friends, El Loco Gatos, has been approached by the Garcia cartel. As you know, the Garcia cartel has been one of our most loyal dealers for years. They aren’t supposed to be selling to anyone else in our territory, and to approach El Loco Gatos like this is a serious breach of trust. It goes against our agreement. We have exclusive rights to the Garcia cartel’s business in all of Dallas county, and unfortunately, we can’t let them continue to betray the club in this way.”

“El Loco Gatos has been instructed to set up a meeting with the Garcia cartel. That meeting will be held on Friday night at midnight in a warehouse in Deep Ellum. Now, I am proposing here today that on the night the deal goes down, we bust in and confiscate the drugs — as a warning, to let them know the Renegade Rebels don’t fuck around in situations like this. If they continue after we bust them on Friday night, then we will escalate our actions to include some serious punishments.”

I looked around the table, each member’s face solemnly listening.

“Now, Maverick,” I gestured to the club treasurer, Maverick Malone, sitting at the end of the table. “I know we were supposed to have your birthday party Friday night at the clubhouse, but we will have to postpone that until next week, unless something changes.”

“That’s no problem, Harley,” Maverick replied. Maverick was the biggest of all the brothers in the club. Heavily muscled, heavily tattooed, heavily pierced, and heavily trained for any fight he was presented with. “As for the plan, I’m open to suggestions. Does anyone have anything to add or would you like to suggest a different way of going about this?” My question was greeted by silence and shaking heads.

“Okay, then. Let’s vote.”

The vote was unanimous, and the plan was set. We would all meet at the clubhouse at ten p.m. on Friday night, travel to a previously staked out spot to watch, and then barrel in with the full force of the MC.

I hoped like hell everything went as planned, but I knew that anything could go wrong. I could lose a man. Someone could get injured. We could get busted by the cops. A number of things could go haywire, but that was the risk.

If everything went right, then we would have extra drugs to sell and our reputation would be reinforced. You didn’t get away with fucking with the Renegade Rebels Motorcycle Club. It just didn’t happen.

The Garcia's were idiots to think they could get away with doing business behind our backs. Things just didn’t work that way.

When the meeting was over, I was the first to leave the room. I closed the door to my office, and sat down behind my desk. My black leather chair was comfortable and I sank into it, thankful for the privacy.

More and more, I found myself isolating myself from the others. I could hear them all talking and drinking at the bar outside my door, their loud, raucous laughter echoing through the club, and I had no desire to join them.

I chalked it up to having a lot to think about, and pulled out my bottle from the desk. Just as I was putting it to my lips, a knock sounded at my door.

“Yeah?” I called.

The door opened and Mason peeked his head in.

“Can we talk for a minute?” he asked.

I was tempted to turn him away, the last thing I wanted to do was talk to him. I was still pissed at his idiocy and looking at his face was not high on my list of plans for the day.

“Yeah, I guess,” I relented.

He sat down in front of me, his eyes searching mine. He knew he fucked up, he just didn’t know exactly how angry I was. I knew he was here to feel me out, probably even apologize, but I was in no mood to hear it.

“What’s up?” I said, hoping we could make this as brief as possible.

“I wanted to talk to you about yesterday…about…about Rebel.”

“Oh, yeah?” I said, not giving an inch. My expression hardened on my face. “What about it?”

“Look, Harley, you’re my best friend.” The words rushed out of him. “And not only that, you’re like family. The last thing I ever want to do is piss you off, you fucking know that. And you know that I had no fucking idea that was Rebel yesterday when she showed up…before…um…before we…well, before you walked out. She didn’t tell me her name. But I’m so fucking sorry, Harley. If I had known that was her, you know I wouldn’t have touched her.” “Look, man,” I said. “It’s cool, alright? Let’s just forget about it.”

“Really?” The look of relief that washed over his face was priceless.

“Yeah, really. It doesn’t matter. Rebel has been out of our lives for a long time now. So she came back for a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am minute, but she’s gone again now. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s for the best.”

“What? Aren’t you worried about her, though, Harley?”

“Worried about Rebel? No fucking way. From the looks of her yesterday, I’d say she’s just about got her shit under control, wouldn’t you? And I gave her an insane amount of money. She’ll be able to get on her feet just fine with that. And Missy will help her.” Mason looked at me as if he wanted to say something more, but he stopped himself.

“Um. Yeah, I guess. Sure. Alright, Harley, well…I guess I’ll see you later.”

Mason left my office as quickly as he came in, leaving me wondering exactly what Rebel had done to get under his skin.

She was good at that, and if anyone knew it best, it was me.

Chapter Thirteen

Rebel

As I rummaged around in Mason’s fridge for something to cook for dinner, I was surprised by the fact that he had nothing in there but more steaks and a few vegetables, a case of beer and a gallon of milk.

A perpetual bachelor.

A perpetual, bad-ass, devastatingly handsome bachelor, that is.

I had been thinking about him all day. From the moment he left me alone in his house this morning, to right now, I had been consumed with thoughts of him. He had been so sweet at breakfast, grateful to have someone cook for him, and I was grateful to do it.

After drinking so much last night, I felt like a fool for coming on to him so hard. But the fact that he had kissed me back with such ferociousness was not lost on me. It was obvious he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. It was his loyalty to Harley that was getting in the way.

I wondered aloud over our eggs and bacon this morning if Mason was going to talk to Harley about me today. He said he was, and I was curious to hear how the conversation went. Mason said he would be back by six-thirty and it was almost seven now.

I started the grill and put the steaks on right as he walked in the door. As soon as I saw the look on his face, I knew things didn’t go well.

“Dare I even ask?” I said, as he walked straight to the fridge to retrieve a beer before even saying hello.

“No, probably not,” he muttered.

“Okay,” I said, quietly, not sure how to proceed with the conversation. Mason had always been the quiet type and that was about the only way he hadn’t changed in the last several years.

I continued preparing dinner as he sat on the deck watching me, quietly downing his beer and then getting up for another one before returning to continue watching me.

I was a little self-conscious about it, but I had to admit, I liked it too. He was brooding, obviously, but his eyes trailed along with my every movement and I periodically looked over at him, flashing him a smile that he left unreturned.

I didn’t know what to think, but I knew better than to question him. He would tell me more in his own time.

When he got up for a third beer, I decided to join him.

“That looks good, can I have one too?”

“Sure,” he muttered as he slithered past me into the kitchen.

It was still light out, the summer heat lingering in the air as we silently drank our beers while we waited for the steaks to cook.

“What did you do today?” he asked me.

“Oh. Um…not much.” I suddenly felt like a bum. I should have gone out and looked for a place to live or a job, now that I had Harley’s cash to help me out. But it’s hard to find a place to live if you don’t have a job. And Mason had told me to stay put anyway.

“Looks like you cleaned my house.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, it was no big deal.” I had straightened up a little as I was nosing around his house, looking at all his things. But it hadn’t seemed like work at all.

“Thank you, that was nice of you. And thanks for starting dinner, too. I’m starved.”

“Yeah? Long day?”

“You could say that. There’s a lot of heavy shit going down with the club.”

“Oh.” Heavy club shit. I was familiar with heavy club shit. My father had always been talking about it, always worried about whatever was going on at the time, and I sensed the familiar tension in Mason now.

“Yeah.” I knew he couldn’t talk about it, so I didn’t ask.

“So, what do you wanna do tonight?” I asked, trying to change the subject. But when I looked into his eyes, I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

Neither one of us could do what we wanted to do tonight. At least I knew the fire was still there, burning under the surface. I was amazed at Mason’s restraint, and honestly a whole lot annoyed at it, as well.

Once again, I found myself cursing Harley for getting in the way of what could easily develop between Mason and I. If the three of us would let it, that is.

I sighed, understanding why he wasn’t answering the question, and turned my attention back to the steaks.

When dinner was ready, we settled in to eat, and once again, our conversation turned to the shared memories that filled both of our heads.

“Do you remember that time you got caught throwing apples at the cars?” he asked.

“Of course I do. I was so scared when the cops showed up, that I almost peed my pants.”

“Did you know Harley and I got in trouble for the exact same thing when you were a baby?”

“What? No way! My parents acted like it was the worst thing in the world. If they had already dealt with it, you’d think they would have been prepared.”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing, Rebel.”

“What?”

“It’s you. Nobody expects you to do anything wrong, no matter how much wrong you do. It’s like everything bounces off of you, and people forget you were ever in trouble with one look at that innocent face of yours.”

I thought about what he said for a moment, and wondered if it was true. It didn’t feel that way for me.

“Well, then why is that every time something bad went wrong, they seemed to blame me, even if it wasn’t my fault?”

“Well, I think that’s your twelve-year old brain talking. If you really think back on it, you’ll see that you were the kid that everyone had high hopes for. Perhaps they just had such high expectations for you that you felt a lot of pressure to do everything exactly right?”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“I’m so sorry everything blew up with your family. I know you were dealt a really shitty hand.”

“You have no idea…” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away, determined that Mason wouldn’t see me cry. Crying was something I only did alone, because I couldn’t afford to have anyone thinking I was weak.

“No?” he asked gently.

“I hated the foster home. They were awful. Every kind of awful you can imagine, that’s what they dished out for me there.”

His eyes darkened when he realized what I was saying.

“Every kind of awful? I can imagine some pretty fucking awful stuff, Reb.”

“Every kind.” I replied in a whisper, turning my eyes away from him. I didn’t like thinking about it, and in the last year away from the bastards, I had done a really good job of avoiding all thoughts of them.

“Fuck.” Mason’s eyes filled with anger. “Rebel, I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you.”

“Whatever, it is what it is. I tried to escape several times, but I guess I wasn’t good enough at it. They kept finding me and sending me back.”

“Rebel.”

I looked everywhere, but in his eyes.

“Rebel. Look at me.”

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see his kindness. I didn’t want to see the gentle, protective look in his eyes. It would break me. And the last thing I wanted was to break down in front of him. I had already made a fool of myself a few times, and I didn’t have any desire to do it again.

But I looked at him. I knew he wouldn’t stop till I did.

And there it all was. Everything I didn’t want to see. Everything I couldn’t afford to see, because I knew it would break my heart open, and if that happened, then Mason would seep in and I would never be able to banish him.

And that’s exactly what happened.

“It’s not your fault, Rebel.”

I sighed, nodding through the stupid tears flowing down my face, his eyes holding mine, not letting me look away, and then before I knew it he was across the table, pulling me into his arms, and holding me against his warm chest and stroking my hair as I sobbed against his cut.

“Shh…it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault, baby girl. Everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he whispered in my ear, his voice soothing a part of me so deep and abandoned inside of me that I didn’t even know it needed soothing.

“Come on, now, let it all out. It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby girl.”

He held me for several long moments, then pulling back, he wiped the tears from my eyes, and gently kissed my swollen, red lips.

“I promise, Rebel. Everything is going to be just fine,” he said, wiping the tears as they continued to fall uncontrollably.

“Thank you,” I whispered to him, never wanting to leave his embrace.

Chapter Fourteen

Mason

Holding Rebel in my arms as she cried was excruciatingly painful. I couldn’t help but want to save her, do something, anything, to make her feel better, to make the tears stop.

She was so fucking beautiful and it was killing me watching her go through such a rough time. I wanted to kill her foster parents for making things even worse for her than they had to be.

But, as I held her in my arms as she sobbed last night, I knew I had to get her out of my house as fast as possible.

I was falling for her hard, and as much as I tried to control it, every time I looked at her, I felt like I was losing the grip I had on my self-control more and more.

It wasn’t just that she was hurt. It wasn’t just that I wanted to save her. It was her strength. They way she jutted her chin out when she talked about her past as if it didn’t hurt her. The way she sucked up the pain and flashed her pretty smile like she wasn’t dying inside from all the confusion and uncertainty that came with being nineteen and all alone in the world.

Only she wasn’t alone. She had me. She had Harley. And as much as Harley obviously wanted nothing to do with her, it was time he stepped up and took care of her.

Before I did something we would all regret.

As I knocked on Harley’s office door the next day, I took a deep breath, summoned up as much courage as I could, turned the doorknob and walked in.

He was in even worse shape today than yesterday.

Clearly, he had already had a few drinks, and the smell of pot filled the air. I wasn’t sure if that was going to work in my favor or not. But I was determined to tell him the truth about Rebel, no matter what.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice already slurred at noon.

“Rebel is at my house.” There, I said it. My dad had taught me that it was best to just get it over with when you had something hard to say. I should have remembered that yesterday.

“What the fuck? Why? Why did she come to your —,” he stopped mid-sentence, his eyes squinting at me. “Of course she did.”

“Well, honestly, Harley, she didn’t actually come to my house. I took her there. The other day.”

He stood up, his eyes thundering with anger.

“What the fuck, Mason?” he came towards me, his fists balling up at his side.

I stood up quickly, squaring off against him, but determined to finish this conversation without anyone spilling any blood.

“Wait! Listen to me, Harley,” I explained as quickly as I could as he fumed in front of me. “It was my idea. But not for the reason you think, man! I saw her sitting at the bus stop the other day after she left, and I felt sorry for her. I know you would have taken her in if you hadn’t…if you hadn’t…you know, seen us. And I felt like it was all my fault, and I just went to talk to her, to offer her a ride to Missy’s. But then she told me she lied about Missy! Harley, she’s been on the streets for a fucking year, man! That’s no life for a nineteen year old girl, no matter how much street sense she has.”

I took a deep breath before continuing, and I was thankful I wasn’t spitting out my teeth just yet. Harley was listening, watching me carefully, and hanging on my every word.

“So, I couldn’t just let her go back to the streets. And you were so pissed at her that day. I came to tell you yesterday, but you were still pissed, and I chickened out. I’m sorry, but listen, Harley, I swear I haven’t touched her. Again, I mean. I was just giving her a safe place to stay until you cooled off.”

Okay, so I had kissed her, but he didn’t need to know that. I liked having teeth. It made it much easier to consume the steak I loved so much.

“Motherfucker!” Harley yelled, turning away from me, the threat of violence hopefully having passed.

“I know. It’s fucked up. The whole situation is fucked up. And what’s even worse is that the fucking foster parents she was staying with were even more fucked up. The poor kid has been deserted and abused by everyone that was supposed to take care of her. And I just couldn’t let her go back on the streets, Harley. I hope you understand. But what Rebel needs most is to be with you.”

“Be with me? Are you fucking kidding? Did you forget who I am? Who we are, Mason? Sure, the streets are fucking rough, but we run a goddamned MC, Mason! We aren’t exactly the most wholesome environment for a kid.”

“I know, I know, Harley. But I think she can handle it. She’s certainly not a kid anymore.”

I shouldn’t have said that last part, because he turned to me, his eyes flashing with even more anger as he yelled at me.

“You fucking asshole. Did you have such a good time fucking her that you feel the need to save her now? Was her pussy that good, Mason? I guess you have first hand knowledge that she’s not a kid anymore, don’t you?”

“For fuck’s sake, Harley! No! That’s not what I meant. I just meant she’s been through fucking hell and back, and she’s survived. I think she can probably handle being around the club without being too fragile.”

“Yeah, sure you did, Mason.”

“Harley, what the fuck? C’mon, man. I said I hadn’t touched her.”

“You said you hadn’t touched her again, Mason. Again. You fucked her. You think I’m going to forget that?”

“No, I don’t. And I’m not forgetting it either, and neither is she, which is why you need to get her the fuck outta my house before things get way outta control, Harley! For fuck’s sake!”

I had had enough of this conversation, and I was bordering on crossing an unspoken boundary of respect that Harley’s position demanded.

As far as I was concerned, my job here today was done. I had told Harley where Rebel was, and if he decided to do the right thing, then he knew where to find her.

If not, then he could just deal with the consequences.

And for fuck’s sake, I hoped like hell he came to his senses. If I had to spend another night in the same house with Rebel, my cock was going to override my mind, and I would be dealing with some serious consequences of my own.

Chapter Fifteen

Harley

I think I broke a knuckle or two after Mason left. I knew he was just trying to watch out for Rebel, but why the fuck did he feel the need to take her to his house?

A good motel would have worked just as well.

What a fucking mess this entire situation was. It would have been nice to have some perspective from my parents, but they were locked away so tightly that I couldn’t get to them. I only had a chance to visit with them rarely, as they both seemed to be frequent visitors to solitary confinement in the pen. I wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t turned out to be model prisoners.

No, there would be no help from them, or anyone, for that matter. It was all up to me. And Mason. Mason, always sticking his nose in shit that had nothing to do with him. Mason, with his stupid big heart, always trying to help out the people less fortunate than him.

Mason was the type of guy to volunteer feeding the homeless, and then go out that night and beat a rival gang member senseless. He was the guy who would pull his bike over on the freeway on the way to a meeting with a drug cartel to help some stranded woman with a broken down car. Or, the type to give all his money that he just earned in a gun sale to a homeless woman he passed on the street on his way home.

He was always trying to save everyone, but this time, he had gone too far.

She was my fucking little sister, for fuck’s sake! What the hell was he thinking? Did he think I was going to thank him?

I groaned, my knuckles swollen from yesterday, and my wall caving in as I punched it again and again. And just like yesterday, the pain felt good, but it was not distracting me at all from the situation I had to deal with.

And what timing Rebel had. Not that any time was good, but we had a serious situation to deal with on Friday, and the last thing I needed was Rebel hanging around and getting in the way, or worse, hurt somehow.

This was not a safe place for her.

Sure, I could easily give her more money, set her up in a place, but what would that teach her? That she didn’t have to work for anything and big brother would bail her out? That was bullshit, and I wasn’t about to do that.

She needed to learn to make her way through this fucked up world on her own, through self-discipline and determination, not by getting a hand out from her brother. I knew that’s why she had come here, and I wasn’t about to play into her game.

I sat for hours, staring at the wall, nursing my busted knuckles, trying to drink myself to some sort of solution. The best I could come up with was to remove Rebel from Mason’s house, take her to my house, lock her in, and help her get a job and then find a place.

If I could get her to stay at my house, and not the clubhouse, she might be safe. If she followed my rules, that is. Which I doubted she would do.

But what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn’t at least try? Mason wasn’t the only one with a big heart, he was just better at showing that shit than I was. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about Rebel, I just didn’t know what the fuck to do with her.

But I had to try. For her sake. For my parent’s sake. Fuck, for my own sake. I hadn’t been able to sleep for days thinking about her, and now that I knew she had been at Mason’s, probably cock-teasing him mercilessly, I knew I had to do something.

Fuck! I threw my bottle of whiskey at the door, the pieces shattering on the floor and the smell filling the room.

Five minutes later, I was flying down Central Expressway on my way to Mason’s house. When I got there, Rebel was sitting on the front porch and Mason wasn’t home. She seemed surprised to see me.

“Harley!” She ran up to me, threw her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.

“Hey, Rebel.” I was not in the mood to be nice, I just wanted to get her the fuck out of there and get her back to my place as quickly as possible.

“Get your shit.”

“What? Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes big and wide with confusion.

“To my house. Go. Now.” I was not breaking a smile, no matter how sweet she tried to be.

“Really, Harley? That’s so awesome, thank you so much!”

“You shouldn’t have lied to me about Missy, and you shouldn’t have come home with Mason.” I said sternly.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Harley. I just…I don’t know why I lied.”

“Whatever. It’s over now. Just go get your shit and let’s get out of here.”

“Okay, you got it, thank you again!” She bounced into Mason’s house just as my cell phone rang.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“It’s Mason.”

“Yeah, I know. What is it?”

“Look, man, I’m sorry about earlier, but that’s not why I’m calling. Johnny called. Says there been a change, but he won’t tell me about it over the phone, insists that you meet him at the graveyard.”

“Fuck. Alright. When?” This was important. Johnny was the leader of El Loco Gatos, the Mexican gang based out of Oak Cliff that was doing the deal with the Garcia cartel. He was a friend, and we had agreed a long time ago that Dallas would be a much peaceful place if we worked together, instead of against each other. We trusted and respected each other. Which is why he told me about being approached by the cartel.

“Right now. Says he won’t meet with anyone but you. Are you free?”

“Not exactly. Goddammit.” The Western Heights Cemetery was an old decrepit graveyard in Oak Cliff that was the same place Clyde Barrow, of Bonnie and Clyde fame, was buried. Nobody would ever bury another body in that run down, abandoned place, and it was a great place for meetings to take place.

“Alright, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll let him know,” Mason replied.

“Cool. Oh, and Mason? I’ve got Rebel. I’m at your house right now, picking her up.”

“Oh. You do?” Don’t sound so shocked, motherfucker, I thought to myself.

“Yeah. I’m gonna take her to my house and drop her off.”

“Um, okay, cool, cool. That’s great. Thanks, Harley.” “Yeah, whatever. I’ll meet you at the clubhouse after the meeting and let you know what’s up.”

“Okay, see you there, boss.”

I hung up without another word, wondering what was taking Rebel so long. Taking her to my house, then driving back to Oak Cliff was going to be a bitch in rush hour traffic, and I wasn’t sure I had enough time to do it to meet Johnny in time. Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t spent so much time staring at the wall and trying to figure out what to do.

“Hurry the fuck UP, Rebel!” I screamed to the back of the house as I walked in.

Looking around, it was obvious Rebel had been cleaning while she was there. Mason’s house had never been so tidy.

She called from the back room that she was almost done, but it still took her another ten minutes to get out. By the time we were on the back of my bike and roaring down the road, I was out of time.

Goddammit, there was no way I could take her home first. I would just have to take her with me, because there was absolutely no chance I could miss this meeting.

I turned the bike around, getting on the freeway and heading towards Oak Cliff. Oak Cliff was one of the oldest neighborhoods in Dallas, part Mexican ghetto, part old mansions owned by old money, now inhabited by yuppies who had done their best to gentrify it. Most people in Dallas had a love/hate relationship with it, and I was no different.

Rebel and I had grown up here. Our parents had bought a house here when they first got together, the clubhouse being our secondary home. Unfortunately, the courts auctioned it off after they went to jail, but every time I came back, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia as I drove down the streets of the Cliff.

I pulled up in front of a house around the corner from the cemetery and told Rebel to get out.

“What’s this?” she asked, looking around.

“I need to drop you here. I have an unexpected meeting I have to attend. At the cemetery around the corner. Just sit your ass on this curb and wait for me. I shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

“Oh. Um…” she looked as if she was going to argue with me, but the look on my face made her stop short. “Sure, Harley, whatever you say.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right back. Stay here and don’t fucking go anywhere, understand?”

“Sure, sure…” she obeyed like a well-trained dog, setting her backpack on the sidewalk, and promptly sitting on the curb.

“Alright. I’m gonna leave my bike here, too. Be right back.”

I walked around the corner to the cemetery, ignored the no trespassing sign, and hopped the chain-link fence.

Johnny was already waiting for me, standing outside of the fenced off area where Clyde Barrow’s grave was located. He looked like your typical low-rider gang banger - baggie khakis, shiny pointy loafers, a red bandana around his forehead and a button-up shirt, buttoned up all the way to his tattooed neck.

He stood with a slouch, one hand in his pocket, probably fingering his gun, and yet smiling the friendliest smile at me as I walked up.

“He was buried in the same plot as his brother,” I told him.

“Yeah, I see that. What a crazy life he led, huh?”

“I guess. Back when life was simpler and people only fought over money, mostly. It’s so much easier to make money now that you don’t have to rob a bank to do it,” I said.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he replied.

“So what’s up, Johnny? What’s so important that you couldn’t tell Mason over the phone?” I couldn’t help but think about Rebel, she was bound to wander off at anytime.

“The cartel contacted us. Said they had something come up. Need to reschedule our meeting for Saturday at noon, same meeting place - the Mercury Warehouse in Deep Ellum.”

“Okay, fine. That gives us more time to prepare. And we can still have Maverick’s birthday party Friday night.”

He nodded at me, his eyes still trained on the grave in front of him.

“You and your men are invited, Johnny. Mi casa es tu casa, you know.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Harley. I’ll tell the boys. We’ll be there. And then on Saturday morning, if you need anything from us at all, you just let us know.”

“No, I want you to go in and do the deal as you normally would. The less you and your boys know, the better. I don’t want the cartel knowing you tipped us off. Less heat on you.”

“Alright, but you know we can handle a lot of heat, Harley, but I appreciate that. We’ll see you Friday night, but remember, we’ll have your back, just in case.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

We shook hands, and I turned to walk away.

“I’m in a hurry, Johnny, but I’ll see you Friday night!”

“Have a good day, Harley.”

I hopped the fence and ran around the corner to the bike, my heart racing with worry that Rebel had done something stupid and wouldn’t be there.

But she was.

And the sight of her made me laugh out loud. She was straddling my bike, her hands gripping the handlebars, and looking over her shoulder at me.

“Hey, remember when you and Mason taught me to ride?”

“Of course I do. How could I forget?”

“Yeah…it was pretty awesome. I haven’t had a chance to ride again since I was twelve. Maybe you can give me a quick refresher and let me ride your bike around?”

“Hell fucking no. You’re not riding my bike, sorry.”

She hopped off, crossed her arms, and began pouting like a schoolgirl.

“Fine, I’ll just get Mason to show me.”

“Oh, my god. Shut up. Alright, I’ll give you a refresher.”

“Sweet, thanks!” She jumped off the curb, got on behind me with her backpack, and I started the bike with a thunderous roar. Of course she wanted to ride, I thought to myself. It’s in her blood.

“Put your things away, and then meet me in the garage,” I told her, after I turned off the bike in the driveway of my house in East Dallas. On the drive over, I had contemplated if what I was about to do was a good idea, but I knew it would make Rebel insanely happy, and I figured if I could find a way to trust her, maybe she would prove to be trustworthy.

Besides, she needed a way to get around. And she was a grown woman now, despite the occasional pouting.

When she walked into the garage, he mouth dropped open when she saw me.

“No fucking way!” she squealed.

“Yep,” I said, smirking.

“I can’t believe it! You still have my bike! It looks amazing, Harley!” She threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek quickly, and then turning her attention to the bright red, shiny Harley 250 that my dad, Mason and I had restored for her years ago.

I couldn’t bear to part with it over the years, so I had kept it covered up in my garage, occasionally polishing it and starting it up, tinkering with it now and then.

“Yeah, well, nobody else wants a tiny Harley but you. So, here you go. Since you aren’t twelve anymore, you can have it. Sorry, I know you were supposed to get it for your sixteenth birthday, but I guess things didn’t exactly work out that way.”

I felt bad, the lost years flooding my memory, and I wished I had done so much more for Rebel. Hell, I wished I had done anything, but instead I had been a selfish asshole. She was my sister, after all.

“No, it’s okay, Harley, really. Thank you so much, I’m so excited I could pee my pants!” She danced around the bike, her eyes lit up with happiness, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her.

“You know, I don’t think I forgot much at all. I’ve ridden in my dreams for years…” her voice trailed off wistfully, as she jumped on the bike, her hands fondling every inch of the shiny, classic machine.

Chapter Sixteen

Rebel

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Harley standing next to my old bike. Watching my dad and Mason and Harley restore that bike for me, painting it a bright cherry red at my request, was one of my fondest memories.

I did help, a little, but my dad was using that project to teach Mason and Harley how to restore and I was strictly forbidden to interfere once they were deep into it. I wasn’t supposed to learn how to ride it until I was sixteen, but Mason and Harley couldn’t stand the thought of waiting anymore than I could, and we had many opportunities to take it out of the garage when our old man wasn’t around.

Still, it took me weeks to convince them to teach me to ride. They both knew they would get a beating if they got caught putting me on a bike, as both my mom and dad were beyond adamant that I wait till I was sixteen. But the concept of waiting what seemed like years to three kids was torturous and impossible.

So, they gave in to my constant nagging, insisting I wear full leathers and a helmet every single time, and they went about patiently taught me to ride, each of them running along at my side as I puttered along, the bike lurching and jerking every which way until it all finally came together in my head, and I was riding around the parking lot of Walmart all by myself.

I had never been happier than that day. The freedom! The feeling of independence, for the very first time. It was addictive and intoxicating, and I begged for more at every opportunity.

I had even started a countdown until my sixteenth birthday, where I was planning on pretending that I knew nothing about riding, so I could let my dad teach me and then I wouldn’t have to hide it from my parents. I could go to school on my bike, to the mall, anywhere I wanted to go. It sounded like heaven, and to my twelve year old brain, it sounded like a future. A future as part of the MC lifestyle, the only life I had ever known. I grew up seeing myself in it, somehow, any way at all I might fit in. When I looked to the future, my life was filled with leather and bikes, and it was a future I looked forward to with all the passion of a little girl looking up to her father and wanting to be just like him.

It was a future I never got to have.

But Harley did. And I had to admit that I was absolutely seething with jealously. I wanted it then, and I wanted it now. Nothing had changed.

Except everything.

As it turned out, Harley was even more opposed to having women anywhere near the MC than my dad was. I got it, I understood. He was just being protective, especially of me.

But I was determined to change his mind. If I could just convince him to let me hang out for just a little while, he would see that there wasn’t any trouble that was going to happen, and he would let me do it more and more.

I just had to be patient.

But this was a good start. After Harley gave me a quick refresher course, I was on my way down the street, my black hair falling out of the bottom of the helmet Harley gave me, and flapping in the wind behind me.

I had told him I was just going to go for a short ride, and it took all my willpower not to ride back over to Mason’s house. I was dying to see the look on his face when he saw me ride up. He didn’t live too far away, but the last thing I wanted to do was piss off Harley, so I went for a short ride, and then returned home.

Harley was in the kitchen making dinner when I got back.

“So? Smooth ride?”

“Oh, my god, yes! Harley, you are the best brother ever!” I kissed him on the cheek again, still in disbelief that he was being so kind to me. First, he picks me up from Mason’s, gives me a place to stay, and then gives me a bike? His attitude sure was different than the other day, I thought to myself.

“Well, I don’t know about that…” he said, under his breath, reminding us both of his long absence in my life.

I hated it. The past would always be hanging over us, only allowing us brief moments of forgetting, before it barreled back into our consciousness.

“Well, I do! I’m going to take a shower.” I trotted to the back of the house, determined not to let the past creep into my perfect day.

As I was showering, I remembered Harley’s meeting with the guy in the graveyard. I knew he would be pissed if he knew I was watching and listening in, but I couldn’t resist following him earlier. I wasn’t about to tell him, but I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening on Saturday afternoon at the Mercury Warehouse in Deep Ellum. Club business, no doubt.

Once again, just thinking about it made me want to be a part of it so badly it hurt. I yearned to know all the gory details, just as I had when I was a kid. It excited me. At one point, I had started asking my dad questions, but he put a stop to that as soon as it started.

So, I knew not to ask Harley about it, because I knew he wouldn’t talk about it.

As my thoughts drifted back and forth between my pure elation at receiving my bike, and intense curiosity about what was going down on Saturday, a seed of a plan began forming in my head. No matter how hard I tried to push it away, I knew it was going to take all of my willpower to avoid showing up and secretly watching them on Saturday.

After my shower, as Harley and I were having dinner, I was delighted when he invited me to Maverick’s birthday party tomorrow night. I hadn’t been to a party since I was a kid, and as I continued to try to push my forbidden plan to the back of my mind, I distracted myself with trying to decide what, out of my measly collection of clothes, I should wear to catch Mason’s eye.

Out of everything, Mason was the one thing that was proving absolutely impossible to not think about.

He had penetrated not just my body, but my heart, and my soul. And while it felt better than anything I had ever felt in my life just to think about him, I couldn’t shake an underlying feeling of doom every time his face flashed in my mind.

Chapter Seventeen

Mason

The party was in full swing by the time I arrived. When it came to birthday parties, the Renegade Rebels pulled no punches.

Alcohol flowed as freely as the cocaine, and dozens of club girls sashayed around in daisy dukes that were barely there, half of them topless before the sun had even set.