CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

“This is what being in love with a biker feels like … kinda gassy.“ – Ruby

 

 

 

 

The small white carton of orange juice Zara had dropped off with his lunch earlier stalled midway to Rider's mouth. He was fucking parched having worked nonstop for six hours on a bike that had been, more or less, dead on arrival last night but he'd got the little shit back up and running at a cost of nearly eight grand. He might be back broken but the shop was up in profit and he had a very happy customer who would more than likely come back and recommend the RS shop to his friends and family.

But his stupefied look was nothing to do with money as Rider slow-blinked at the sight walking through the Renegade Souls main entryway.

Several other brothers came to a standstill. One elbowed the other, another chin-jutted like they were all looking at the same alien striding in.

Mass hallucination maybe? Nah, a smirk kicked up a corner of his lip, he knew who this was. Preacher hadn’t shut his trap about his old lady’s nephew since he came to live with them. Last he’d heard, all was going well for the new family. He’d barely seen his road captain all week.

Preacher strode slower to compensate for the little person at his side stretched up on his toes holding two of Preacher's fingers.

Preacher with a kid. That was some A-grade cute shit right there, looked like he’d taken to fatherhood instantly without a hitch. Rider was pleased as fuck for his brother, he'd seen more times than not the inner struggles Preacher had going on in his mind and how it manifested, to see him with a slice of happy, well Rider wasn't the sappy type, but it was good to see one of his boys in the good. Now if only he could take to fatherhood as easy. Rider’s own chest concaved with nerves as each passing day he watched his Icy's pregnancy progress. His girl was stunning with her tiny belly poking out, but he had six months to worry about just how well he'd do. He wouldn’t be his own father, that was a fact. Rider would do the opposite of parenting that Ajax Marinos had done and everything would be golden.  

The kid, Seb, trotted to keep up with Preacher heading Rider's way, his little eyes going everywhere trying to see everything at once. Rider grinned watching his reactions to all the guys hanging around. He noticed the swearing had quit, just as well, Preacher would likely crack a skull or two. With his muddy brown hair in a bowl cut almost in his eyes, dressed in clean denim overalls and a blue Spider-Man t-shirt beneath it with white kickers, Seb looked like any cute kid you'd see in the street. Little did the kid know just who he had on his side now.  He couldn’t do better than Preach and Ruby for parents. They’d do alright by him, he surmised silently, watching the new father and son. But Preacher with an actual kid though. Rider’s mouth twitched.

Okay, that would take some getting used to seeing, he smiled at the boy as he walked beside a man who had always insisted kids were germ freaks and he'd rather have a hernia on his dick than be caught dead with one.

So, unless Preacher was dead and he'd dragged the whole club to hell with him, the mighty had fallen spectacularly. But then, Rider knew what the love of a good old lady could do so he had no room to joke around. Maybe he would. Would be worth it because the fucking mighty had fallen hard.  Snake would dine on this shit for months to come.

Rider straightened his aching spine, ditched the carton on the edge of the bar, arched his brow when he caught Preacher's eye. A hand coasted to his jaw as he smiled at the little boy.

"New career move, Preach? Didn't see you for the nanny type, just need one of those frilly umbrella things now."

"Parasol. Don't ask how I know that shi--stuff. Hey, Prez." His mouth quirked and they slapped hands and the unusual kept on rolling when Preacher went down to the kid’s level eye-to-eye. Obviously shy, Seb sidled up to Preacher, putting both arms on Preacher’s shoulder, looking up timid and curious towards Rider. "This here is Seb, he wanted to see where I worked. You wanna say hi to Rider, big man? Go ahead, it's okay, this is the prez I told you about."

Wide eyes looked up at him. "Pwez? wif his bike?"

Preacher grinned full out at the kid, Rider's own mouth twitched. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to meet his own kid.

"Yeah, big man. If you ask nicely he might even show you it."

Rider went down to his haunches, Seb squeezed his little body deeper against Preacher's side like he was the only person he trusted. Zara, when she was done puking up everything, would get a kick out of seeing Preacher in daddy-mode, plus she was already talking about having Ruby and family over for a cookout one day this week.  

"Hey, Seb. You like bikes do ya? We got a few outside you can see."

"I wikes bikes that go fastest and fire trucks," He announced from behind Preacher, staring up at Rider with the widest eyes. He could see what Preacher meant when he'd said he fell hook line and sinker for the boy.

“Well then, let’s go see some bikes, yeah?” Seb nodded after getting the okay from Preacher.

“Yo, S-dog.” Grinder called out approaching, he bent over and bumped a fist with Seb who giggled. “Don’t forget we’re gonna play some football this weekend, right?”

“You actually gonna be around?” Preacher questioned and Rider silently added his own. His tracker had been MIA more lately than he ever had and it wasn't like Grinder to go off the grid. He followed them outside to the row of Harley's parked up.

“Sure.” Grinder answered offhandedly, stooping down to pick up the kid and plonk his butt on the seat of his Harley V-Rod. Rider was suspicious, but he wasn’t his brother’s nanny, their down time was their own. He let the matter drop. He'd casually mention it to Icy, she was becoming a pit bull with his brothers and their wellbeing, always inviting one or all over, for fuck's sake, Rider couldn't turn around at home now without tripping over a brother stuffing his face with something she was experimentally cooking. Guinea pigs she called them. Fucking saps for his old lady he called them. But if something was going on with Grinder then his nosy girl would sniff it out and bug him until he spilled his guts.

Seb loved sitting on all the bikes, and Rider gave him props for preferring the Dyna, the boy had taste, maybe they’d make a biker out of him one of these days, riding with his dad and crew.

 

 

 

******

 

“I’m exhausted. Like tired in my bones, down to my soul and out the other end, ughhhhh…I didn't think this kind of tired existed and I serve drunk people for twelve hours straight.” Ruby announced later that night. Though she wheezed as she fell on top of Preacher laid out on the couch, she was smiling. Happy trumped tired.

“How many stories did he con you into tonight?”

“Just three. I got it down from five, that was good, right?”

“Sucker.”

“He’s just so sweet, Asher,” she said smiling into his throat getting comfortable with a few wriggles, his large hand caressed down her spine, over her butt and pushed inside the back of her shorts to palm her butt cheek. “Plllleeeeeeease Aunt Ruby just one more’ how can I say no to that?”

Preacher chuckled. He had his eyes closed and a nature program about killer-bees muted on the TV. It had been a busy week settling Sebastian into their home, feeling their way around doing this parenting thing. So far, he’d had one nightmare and refused to eat carrots that resulted in a screaming fit and Ruby had almost joined him until Preacher had stepped in and shoved all the carrots into his mouth all at once making Seb giggle until he’d asked for his own to do the same. Problem solved Preacher's smirk said. Ruby loved seeing him acting like a normal little rambunctious boy, not the ghosted blank nephew she was used to. It was going to take time and effort to get them all in a good place together but so far it was going well, she loved every minute spent with her boys, and as far as more family time was going they were hosting dinner tomorrow night for the Priests. Birdie had been amazing helping Ruby, it was as though she’d always had the woman in her life.

What a blessing she was.

She'd already told Asher in the event of a divorce she was taking custody of Birdie. He'd growled and fucked her rotten until she took it back, the divorce talk, he happily gave her his 'batty Ma' as he called her.

“He’s got your number, beautiful.”

“I know. I’m a pushover, I'll be the hardass parent once he's a teenager and wanting the car keys.” She hummed, enjoying the downtime with him. Fingers kneaded her butt. She purred.

After a minute’s silence, he added. “I promised him a ride on my bike last night just to get him to go to sleep.”

“Ha!” She drilled a finger into his chest, watched his mouth quirk. “You’re a sucker, too. Big softy. Now I don’t feel too bad.”

“It’s the sad eyes. I can't help it, Ruby. I’d give him anything when he looks at me.” God, this man, he made her heart roll over. Ruby lifted her head and kissed him lightly. “I love you.” His mouth smiled against hers.

“I love you, beautiful. And since you’re so tired and deliciously pliant and susceptible to my dirty hands.“ Silk entered his voice even as his hand began to squeeze her butt, pulling her in against his growing hardness. “I’ll do all the work.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” Heat licked every part of her tired body. She pressed her cheek against his, rubbing the softness of his beard before their heads turned mutually towards each other, met at the mouth and kissed lazily for long minutes until it was evident soft gentle kisses weren’t enough anymore.

As nice it would be to make love soft and sweet, whispering all those new words of love she had singing in her heart, with Preacher she knew they’d always have an animalistic need burning hot between them, the desire that devolved into something primal to possess each other as quick and as hard as they could. She might be tired, but not so tired she couldn’t get down and dirty screwing him.

With a skilled move, he flipped her over so she was lying beneath him, her legs wantonly spread so he could fall into the space between, he ground his pelvis to hers, hard against soft, she grew damp and needy.

“Preacher…”

“I so know, beautiful, I want you, too, so fucking much. I can’t fucking get enough of you, you make me insane.” The growl in his throat. She always thought he looked half savage when he wanted to fuck and that was just perfect. He’d pin her, hold her down, fuck her stupid, make her take it all, have her come and scream his name and that was perfect too. Her perfect partner.

She’d once thought a troublemaking biker wasn’t for her, someone to avoid at all costs, after all, the bikers she knew were no role models of virtuous goodness. Little had she known Preacher was the man for her, the one who understood every dirty fantasy she had, those desires she whispered in his ear late at night in their bed just to hear his rusty laugh right before he gave her exactly what she wanted.

How hard do you want to ride me, beautiful?

She was the lucky one.

“Hurry.” Panting, she bit his bottom lip. “Before I fall asleep.”

“No sleeping on my watch, wife.” A hand sneaked into her shorts, he’d palm her, she knew, and stroke her sex until she was begging.

Just as his fingers moved over her mound, her breath held, prepared for her world to explode they both heard. “Aun’ Ruby!”

“Oh, god.” Preacher groaned, head dropping. “Let’s pretend we don’t hear him.” Starved kisses dragged over the column of her throat.

“Aun’ Ruby, I waked up!”

“Oh, god.” Preacher thought it deserved repeating. Ruby giggled and hugged him close as he sighed and rested all his weight on her, dry fucking her. “I just knew it, that little cockblocker, he’s doing it on purpose, Ruby.”

“Of course, he is, Preacher man.” Grinning, she cupped his face, kissing him soundly before she slipped out from under him, yelling loud enough for Sebastian to hear her before he began hollering for her again “I’m coming, sweetie.”

“I’m glad someone is.” Grouched her big tough man, both arms flung over his face. The size of his erection in his jeans must be painful she thought, empathy made her want to giggle. Poor baby. The wait would make it sweeter. She kissed him again, stroked light fingers down his zipper. “Don’t start without me, I won’t be long. Remember I love you, Preacher man, and don’t go to sleep.”

She was almost at the stairs when she heard “Hey, Rubes?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you, too. Make it only two stories.” A smile in his voice.

An hour later right before both fell into a drained sleep Preacher did make love to her, very fast. As he had declared before pinning her fast and ripping off her shorts I gotta fuck you quickly before that little cockblocker wakes up for water this time.

God, she loved him.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Several Weeks Ago

 

 

Footsteps approached. Luxe knew it was different than all the foot traffic she'd heard for the last however long it had been, it felt like hours, could be longer still. She knew it was him coming back. The hard-heavy shuffle grew closer to the door and then stopped. Her hearing strained.

The way her heart rate increased had nothing to do with fear and all to do with wanting to murder, maybe not murder, she'd seen a season of Orange is the New Black and she didn't figure she could make it in prison, even if she did have connections with Jamie Steele who would more than likely help her dispose of an asshole body, for a hefty price. Too much like hard work. But assault and battery with a motel bedside table? now that she could get with.

The key turned in the lock, behind the blindfold she saw the light enter the room before a shadow stepped in.

Smelling food, she stayed perfectly still, not a hair moved, nor a muscle flickered, though her pulse increased steadily catching a masculine scent in the air that hadn't been there a minute ago, she evened out her breathing, let him think she was asleep, like she didn't care what was going on.

"I know you're awake." The deep voice went right through her like burning ice. Rich baritone, the kind of voice smokers had at the end of the night.

Fuck you.

And fuck you, asshole.

With her sight blinded and her tongue held by the tape, all her other senses rose to the forefront, listening to the rustling of a bag landing on the bedside table closest to her, and the creaking of leather. Was he taking off his jacket? Something heavy landed on the chair across the room. You better stop with the jacket, fucker.

Ay Dios mio, this was a state of affairs of monumental irritation.

Luxe didn't need to memorize the room since it was her room she was being held in. A bed, table, chair, a compact bathroom with a rust-stained tub with a shower head that barely dribbled water. Her backpack was still over by the TV if the asshole hadn't rifled through it already. He wouldn't find much, she never traveled with a lot of cash.

When he didn't say anything more, nervous sweat popped out on her brow.

Keep calm.

She hadn't been in worse situations, but close enough. Panicking wouldn't help.

He wants something, or why go to the trouble of ambushing her at the Apollo Kingsmen party as he had? One random walk outside to grab fresh air that wasn’t stained with pot, sex and biker bragging, he couldn’t have known she was tired of the people inside, or holding boring conversations, she'd only come because of Jamie, she hadn't wanted to be anywhere near Armado Springs for a reason, not even several towns away in Fort Springs.

Now look where she was, tied to her own motel headboard.

Still dressed in her party/casual-didn't-want-to-dress-up clothes, she was boiling hot under the soft worn denim jacket, she moved her bare legs, the way he'd positioned her on the bed, the cut-off jean shorts were probably doing some internal damage to her vagina, just as well she had no plans for kids or she'd sue this asshole for strangling her ovaries, after she got done bludgeoning his head with a lamp. The cloying air stung her nose.

Abruptly the blindfold was pulled down, left hanging around her neck. Blinking against the fluorescent lighting above, her vision refocused and then she looked at her captor.

Him. Ay Dios mio. My god.

He was a tall man, a broad-shouldered man, long, lean, tapered waist, ropey arms and a stance that was all menace, she recognized him instantly. He sucked the air out of the small space like he had the right to it. Space he'd invaded with those fucking shoulders and that face. His scent seemed to push itself ahead of everything else assaulting her nose with the tickling of a hot memory, even as she glared at him.

She should have fucking known this would have the mark of that MC all over it.

For a man who had just committed a crime, he seemed confident and at ease in his own skin.

Muffled she told him in two languages just how dead he was going to be.

And the asshole had the unmitigated beard-faced gall to laugh. "Can you be trusted to shut up if I take that off you? It will go straight back on if you can't, no biggy to me."

About as much as I can trust you, ass-face. After a minute, she nodded and he ripped the gag off her mouth in one straight pull.

“Gee, thanks for the lip wax, I forgot to book an appointment.” Her scowl was black.

Keep calm. Assess the situation. Find out what he wants.

"I brought you food." Food implied she was going to be here longer than she already had been. Fuck. At least he hadn't started placing a plastic tarp on the floor, that was something positive for now.

She glanced at the food bag from a fast food place not far from here known for their meat products. "I'm a fucking vegetarian, pendejo." Idiot.

The smiled transformed his face from dangerous to handsome and dangerous. Luxe didn't need to imprint his features to memory to describe to a police sketch artist, his face was already in her memory bank. He was so damn good-looking she wanted to throat-punch him. "I remember. It's why you have an egg and cheese biscuit," he told her calmly.

Hmph. Now she could see it was someone she recognized, adding in that this didn't feel like her potential homicide, the tightness in her stomach lessened a notch, not much, she was still pissed off. Whatever his game, she wasn’t playing.

Her gaze watched him walk around the bed, long legs, and a purposeful stride, never once looking at her sprawled in the middle of the double divan bed with its scratchy white blankets.

He was obviously insane, oh, not for not ogling her, she was no masochist and this was not a fantasy of hers, she'd read online once how rich bitches paid to be 'kidnapped' Luxe had better things to spend her money on. But to take her from a well-known party and a renowned outlaw motorcycle club she was associated with via a friend or two, now that was an insane move on this man's part. She'd be missed sooner rather than later and then he'd be in for a whole heap of hurt.

Her eyes did some of their own skimming.

She hated that she noticed he had something pretty-fucking-hefty behind his zipper, the black jeans melded to his long legs. The hottest biker she'd seen in a long while. She had memories of him that just wouldn't quit. She knew his taste and his sounds when he was aroused and how he’d begged to let him make her come, the bossy notes in his tone commanding she open her legs for him. And she had.

None of that mattered. Her stare turned steely. Hateful. Angry.

Eyes strayed down again.

She loved a thick cock.

She wouldn't look.

She did, just once. Fuck. Idiota. Mimi would tell her to stop thinking with her lady bits. Hormones get you in trouble, Cielito Lindo.

Still, she loathed him now and would hate him until the end of time, or until he died.

"This is fucking crazy. I know who you are. I don't know why you've done this. Untie these and we can put this behind us, no harm no foul."

His smile when it flashed was wicked. Darkness. And then she felt fear for a second. "You're not in a position to issue threats. But I'm not unreasonable. I'm open to negotiations. You know what I want and I'll happily let you go and never see you again."

"I don't negotiate with terrorists!" She hissed like she held all the cards. She held exactly zero cards so why was she getting so goddamn mouthy? Her Abuela always said her mouth would get her into deep trouble one of these days. Hey, Mimi, one day is right now. "Just let me go." Luxe was proud of the calm in her voice.

"When I get what I want." There was a slight edge of something in his tone. Regret maybe? Bitterness? The way he looked deeply in her eyes unnerved her. He was unwrapping the bag of food, laying the packages out neatly on the bedside table, full butler service, despite the situation her belly growled at the smells, she hadn't eaten anything at the party, and from the looks of the shutters covering the windows, it was already the next day. She got hangry when she didn't eat.

"How about fuck you."

His dark head came up, caught in his intense gray-eyed attention, it settled on her like a physical touch, freezing her to the spot. Remembering every dirty word, he’d growled into her mouth the last time she’d seen her kidnapper.

She'd gone too far, remember those cards you don't hold, Luxe? But then his mouth framed by the thick black beard quirked at one side, she hated his stupid wind swept spikey gorgeous hair on his stupid head.

"That’s some offer, you do owe me a good load. Maybe later if you ask nicely." When heat flashed through his eyes she was punched by it. Which really threw a wrench into her plan of trying to bludgeon this fool the moment she got her arms free.

"But first, you can eat your food." He untied one arm, he hadn't tightened them too much so she hadn't lost feeling. Considerate asshole. His smell was fucking amazing as he leaned over her. "Now, you wanna get started on these negotiations, dirty rotten thief?" Smiled Grinder and began folding up the sleeves of his shirt.

The air turned to syrup. The room smaller.

Veiny forearms exposed.

A dark imposing stare held her eyes.

She was transfixed, unable to look away.

Grinder was a problem. And not only because he'd kidnapped her.

How the hell was she getting out of this one?