Dare was fucking shell-shocked. There was no other way to put it. With her honesty, her bravery, her guileless pursuit of pleasure, Haven Randall had knocked him on his metaphorical ass. And he didn’t know what to do about any of it. Given that he was planning to send her away and all.
He pulled Haven into the shower with him and moved her under the warm rushing water. He didn’t know what he was doing, or even exactly why he was doing it. Every bit of what was happening here fell into the category of firsts. Bringing a woman to his home instead of to the club. Seducing her in his private space. Wanting to take care of her, and maybe even be taken care of in return. Taking the risk of opening himself up, when he knew all the ways that could go wrong.
Which was when it occurred to him that Haven wasn’t the only one with a list of things she wanted in her life—though of the two of them, she’d been the one brave enough to figure that shit out and go after it, whereas Dare felt a whole lot like he’d been stumbling around in the dark his whole life.
Until now.
Until Haven.
“It’s still raining,” she said, her gaze on the dark gray afternoon visible through the window as the water cascaded over her head. “I hadn’t even realized.”
Dare arched a brow. “That’s good. Because I would’ve been doing a piss poor job of pleasing you if you still had brain cells left to think about the weather.”
A shy grin rose up on her pretty face, and her eyes cut back to his. “I’d say I was well pleased.”
The comment made him feel ten feet tall. After all the wrong that’d been done to her, Dare wanted to do right by Haven. In every way he could. Maybe he wasn’t good enough for her, or even good for her at all, given how screwed in the head he was about his past. But she seemed to want him, and as long as she did, he’d take care of her right.
He stroked his hands over her wet hair, and she tilted her head back, exposing her throat. He couldn’t help but taste her there, to taste the water from her skin. She released a contented sigh that reached into his chest and poked at things not used to being poked at.
His cock stirred against her belly. From the closeness. From her satisfaction. From everything she was making him feel and think and want.
Tentatively, her hands grasped his sides. And slowly slid down until they paused on his hips. She brought her head upright, those beautiful blue eyes assessing and observing him.
Dare grasped her right hand and slid it to his now erect cock, circling his hand around hers on his rigid length. Haven’s mouth dropped open. “You can touch me,” he said. “Any way, anything you want.”
Her tightening grip ripped through him like an electrical current, hot and fast.
“That’s it,” he said, bracing one hand on the shower wall over her shoulder.
She licked her lips and looked down, watching herself pump him. Dare released her hand to let her set the pace, his arousal ratcheting up hard and fast despite the powerful orgasm she’d just pulled out of him. Haven might’ve been inexperienced, but she wasn’t prudish, and she wasn’t bashful when it came to sex and pleasure. And the combination of curious and eager was a fucking killer to his self-control.
“I want to put my mouth on you,” she said.
Case in point. Jesus. He tipped her face up and bored his eyes into hers. “Say that again.”
Eyes hooded, lips glossy wet, her expression was filled with desire. “I want to put my mouth on you. Here.” She squeezed his cock at the base, sending a jolt of arousal through him. “I want to make you feel the same way you made me feel.”
Hand in her hair, Dare kissed her hard. “Then suck me with that pretty little mouth.”
Slowly, Haven sank to her knees onto the shower floor, her face coming up even with his jutting cock. She peered up at him through wet eyelashes, not even aware of how beautiful and brave and sensual she was. She grasped his cock by the base and bathed his head in a long, slow lick.
“Fuck,” he rasped, one hand still braced on the wall, the other cupping the side of her head.
She licked him until he was ready to beg for her to suck, but she beat him to it, wrapping her lips around his length and sliding down, sliding deep. The moan she unleashed shot right to his balls, making him want to rut and rock into her mouth. But he kept his hips still, letting her explore him and torture him with pleasure.
Taking hold of his ass, Haven brought her face up tight, sucking him down, keeping him deep. Nothing about her approach was shy or reserved, which made him think she’d done this before. And he didn’t fucking care one bit as long as she kept burying his head in the back of her throat.
For a long moment, she set a pace that had him fisting his hand in her hair, and then she pulled off, gasping for air and looking up at him with the most pleading expression. “Tell me what feels good to you.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s fucking phenomenal.” He dragged his thumb over her lips, and she caught it with her teeth. He pushed it into her mouth and she immediately sucked at his flesh, her eyes making it clear how turned on she was. By pleasing him.
She took his cock deep again and got into a rhythm that alternated between fast and shallow and slow and deep. His thighs shook and his hand kept fisting and he could no longer keep his hips from pushing for more. Always more.
“Gonna come,” he rasped, tugging at her hair.
She popped free long enough to say, “I want it.” And then she took him deep and sucked him off until Dare was grasping her head and coming down her throat with a shout and a groan.
When she finally eased off of him, he pulled her up and kissed her hard, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and stealing her breath. Like she’d stolen his. “You’re fucking good at that, you know it?”
The smile that crept up her face was ridiculously cute. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Do it absolutely any time you want,” he said with a wink.
She threw her head back and laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They finally got down to getting clean. She did her thing and he did his, but in trading kisses and small touches and heated glances, it felt intimate, loaded, full of promise for something more. And Dare was down for that, because as long as the storm raged outside his house, he was keeping Haven here. In his sights, in his arms, and in his bed.
Because when the rain cleared, the time they might have together would be counted in days at best. And that was hardly enough when he’d finally found a woman he wanted for longer, for more, and maybe even for everything.
“YOU HUNGRY?” DARE asked when they were dried and dressed and downstairs again. He wasn’t sure how long any of those were going to last, given how sexy Haven looked wearing a pair of his boxers and his old Harley shirt knotted at her waist so it didn’t hang halfway down her legs.
“Actually, I’m kinda starving.” She leaned her elbows on his kitchen counter. And damn if she didn’t look perfect there, hanging out with him in his house doing a whole lot of nothing in particular.
Dare opened his wasteland of a fridge. Given how often Bunny cooked up at the clubhouse, he’d gotten into a routine of eating there with whoever showed up, or making himself the odd bowl of cold cereal here on the fly. Otherwise, his fridge was filled with beer, milk, condiments, and a package of hot dogs. “How ’bout I order a pizza?” he asked, turning to her. “You like that?”
Haven nodded. “Yeah.”
“What kind?” he asked, grabbing his cell.
“I like just about anything, so whatever you want.” Her expression was totally open and honest, but something about the words still rubbed him wrong.
“I want to know what you want, not what you’ll accept,” he said, giving her a pointed look.
“Oh. Uh. I really like pepperoni and sausage,” she said, uncertainty slipping into her gaze.
Dare leaned in for a deep, lingering kiss. “I really like when you tell me what you want.” He pulled away, arched his brow at her until she smiled and nodded, and dialed the phone. “Be here in thirty,” he said when he hung up.
“Do you use your kitchen much?” she asked, her gaze taking in the room.
He came up behind her and braced his hands on either side of her body. Leaned in and kissed the side of her neck. “Not nearly as much as I should.”
She tilted her head, opening to him. “That’s a shame,” she whispered distractedly.
“What would you make?” he asked, sucking on her earlobe.
On a soft moan, she said, “Oh, everything. Fluffy pancakes and waffles for breakfast and grilled sandwiches for lunch and hearty pastas and grilled steaks for dinner.”
He tugged the too-big neck of her shirt to the side, exposing her whole shoulder, and ran nipping bites all along the skin there. “And for dessert?”
Haven shivered and leaned into him. “Chocolate cake made with real fudge and a layer of raspberry filling with mini chocolate chips in between. I’d cover it with a buttercream icing and decorate it with big, thick shavings of chocolate.” She turned her face to his. “And peanut butter cookies, too, of course.”
“Man, I’m hard just thinking about all that,” he said. And, truth be told, a little sad thinking about it, too. Because he’d lived alone so long he could hardly imagine what it would be like to live in a house that was actually alive. Hell, even the house he grew up in was weighed down by fear and tension more than lit up with anything that approximated life.
“Is that so?” She pressed her ass more firmly against his crotch. “Oh, yes, I see.”
Dare chuckled at her playfulness, loving to see it, given where she’d been a few weeks before.
Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. “If just talking about what I could make causes all this, maybe we should see what happens if I actually made you a meal here sometime.”
The idea did funny things to Dare’s chest. Suddenly, he could see Haven there in his kitchen. Wearing one of his big T-shirts over a pair of panties and nothing else as she cooked breakfast. Pulling a big tray of cookies out of the oven, and making the whole house smell like fucking heaven. He could see them there together. Eating. Living. Loving. “Yeah,” Dare said, getting caught up in his head. “We should definitely see about that.”
Her smile sagged a little. “Maybe a farewell dinner before I go. Or something. To say thank you.”
The cold, hard reality of her words pulled him out of his pointless thoughts. “Yeah.” He stepped away from her and grabbed a beer from the fridge. And was glad when the delivery guy showed up a few minutes earlier than expected.
He paid the guy and turned toward the table to find Haven grabbing plates from a cabinet, as if she’d done it a hundred times before. And it lured more of those thoughts into his head. What was wrong with him? She had to leave. It was safest for her. Safest for his people, too. That’s where his head should be.
“That smells good,” she said, sliding into a seat at the table.
Dare set the box down and flipped open the lid. “It does. Dig in.” He waited for her to grab a slice before he took two for himself.
For a long moment, they ate in silence, and then Haven said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Always,” he said. Part of him was curious to learn what she wanted to know. Most of the time they’d spent talking over the past few weeks had been about her background and situation, and Dare half wondered what a sheltered twenty-two-year-old and he could have in common to talk about—part of him hoped it wasn’t much. Although he’d already been surprised more than once about the experiences they’d shared—their abusive, megalomaniac fathers, missing out on school and the typical teenage experience, running away from home and knowing they were being pursued. And finding shelter with the Ravens—he certainly couldn’t forget that.
She swallowed a bite and took a long sip of water. “Why did you join the Raven Riders?”
He almost laughed. The question seemed simple on its face but was actually the single thing she could’ve asked that would unravel lots of strands of his life. And there was almost no way to answer without either sharing the way he’d failed Mom and Kyle or omitting the way he’d failed the two most important people in his life—and hadn’t there already been enough lies and omissions between them?
“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” he said, taking a bite. “The short version is that I ran away from my father’s house in Arizona when I was fifteen. After a few years of being homeless and floating around on my own, I worked up the courage to approach my grandfather. I hadn’t come here right away because my father had said for years that Doc was a mean, selfish bastard who wanted nothing to do with me or any of us. But life on the road alone wasn’t easy . . .” Which, given the things he’d done and sacrificed to survive, was a major fucking understatement. But whatever. “. . . and I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep living at all if I had to keep living like that. So I figured, what the hell, it was worth the try. Doc knew who I was with one glance and took me in without even a question. I should’ve known my father had lied and come here sooner. But after escaping two bad situations, I just hadn’t wanted to risk a third until I got desperate. The Ravens already existed then, but they were small and the members were mostly older or aging out. I’d grown up around my father’s club, and I liked the loyalty and brotherhood, the family, that a good club could be. So Doc and I agreed that I could stay on and earn my keep rebuilding the club and running the compound. On one condition.”
Haven’s expression was nearly rapt as she listened to him. “Which was?”
“That I never make the Ravens into the kind of club my father’s Diablos were.” He finished his first slice and wiped his fingers on a napkin. “A lot of bikers are drawn to clubs not only because they want to share in the motorcycle lifestyle with others who know and appreciate it, but because they also want to live life on their own terms. Some clubs, like the Diablos, take that a step further and want to live life without the restraints and oversights of rules and laws and authority. Instead, they want to make the rules and be the authority, which often leads to territorial disputes and conflicts with other clubs or gangs or criminal organizations. They go on the offense to secure territory and have no problem using violence—in some places, your number of kills or prison terms is often a way of proving your loyalty and moving up in the organization.”
Haven nodded as she grabbed a second slice of pizza. “Okay,” she said.
“Doc didn’t want that for us, and having lived it in my father’s club, I agreed. We believe in live and let live. We’ll resort to violence in the interest of self-defense if we have to—we’re not going to let anyone push us around. But we specifically chose business interests for the club that would create the least likelihood for treading on anyone else’s toes.”
“The racing?” she asked, her tone still interested and not at all disapproving.
Dare nodded. “And the betting that takes place around it, yeah. That’s our primary asset. We also do some trucking escorts in the region—we’re hired to provide additional security for sensitive or high-value transports. Basically, we make sure things get where they’re going unmolested. I’m not going to sit here and tell you all this is on the up-and-up by the feds’ book, but we try to keep out of guns and drugs as much as possible, because that’s where the biggest contentions arise.” Given her background and her father’s criminal activities, Dare wasn’t sure how she’d react to a frank admission that they weren’t a hundred percent aboveboard.
“And how did protecting people come into it all?” She took another big bite of her pizza, her seeming acceptance of what he was sharing encouraging him to dig into another slice himself. He hadn’t realized that he’d care what she thought of him and the Ravens, but talking to her like this made him realize he did. It mattered to him for reasons that weren’t entirely clear and probably didn’t make a shitload of sense. But it mattered all the same.
“It really started with Bunny,” Dare said, his memories easily taking him back to when her first marriage unraveled in the most violent of ways, the law doing almost nothing to protect her.
Haven’s mouth dropped open, surprise shaping her pretty face.
Bunny’s history was pretty widely known by the club, so Dare wasn’t talking out of turn by telling Haven, and Bunny had been known to tell some of the women that landed here herself when it seemed like it could help. “Her first husband—Maverick’s father—had always had a controlling streak none of us liked, but Bunny seemed happy with him, and as long as she was, we didn’t make too much of it,” Dare said. “But then he lost his job and Bunny was bringing in most of their money working for me and Doc at the racetrack, which caused all kinds of problems, especially as his paranoia grew that she was running around on him with a Raven. She wasn’t, but of course that didn’t matter. There was no convincing him. When the abuse started, we closed ranks around her until he agreed to a divorce and a restraining order we were willing to enforce however necessary. That whole experience changed a lot of things for me and Doc and Maverick. Made it personal. Made it something we wanted to be able to do for others like her if we could.”
“It’s hard to imagine Bunny . . .” Haven shook her head. “She’s so amazing.”
The affection in her voice for his aunt reached inside his chest and squeezed. “She’s the best.” A long pause, and then, “What we were able to do to help Bunny also struck home with me for another reason.”
The pizza was suddenly a rock in his gut, but while the idea of telling Haven about his worst failure was about as appealing as going ass-over-ears on his bike, it was also kinda freeing, too. To be wholly known was not something Dare permitted often. But Haven had shared some of her deepest and darkest with him, and he felt like he needed to return the gesture. Anyway, she’d be gone soon. And if it changed the way she looked at him—for which he wouldn’t blame her—little would be lost. A major gut check belied the thought, but Dare ignored it like a motherfucker.
“I ran from my father’s house as he was murdering my mother and older brother. I didn’t do a damn thing to help, which I will regret for as long as I live. So protecting others, it’s me trying to make right that first wrong. No matter how impossible it might be.” He heard the note of belligerence in his tone, almost daring her to judge him.
As if she could do it more harshly than he did it himself.
NO MATTER HOW fast she blinked, Haven couldn’t hold off the threatening tears. For Dare. For the boy he’d been. For all he’d lost. For the pain in his voice and that haunted look in his eyes she’d seen time and time again and never understood. Until now. “Oh, Dare.”
“So, yeah. That’s how it came about,” he said, shoving his plate away and crossing his arms over his chest.
Haven didn’t have the right words—assuming any even existed. All she knew was that she couldn’t be so far away from him. Nerves fluttered through her belly, but she pushed through it, got up from her seat, and rounded the table to him. And then she went to her knees on the floor, laid her head against his stomach, and wrapped her arms around his waist as best she could. “I’m so sorry.”
For a long moment, his body was rigid and unyielding, totally unmoved or maybe even put off by her touch. But then his muscles went loose, and it was like he was surrendering to her compassion, maybe even accepting it. A big, calloused hand stroked the hair off the side of her face. “I am, too,” he said in a tight voice.
“You were fifteen,” she said, the horror of his story washing over her. “You were lucky to survive yourself.” She peered up at him. “Imagine all the people who might never have gotten the Ravens’ help if your father had killed you, too.”
His lips pressed into a tight line and his eyes narrowed. He swallowed hard.
“Was Kyle your brother?” she asked. One of the tattoos on his chest included the name.
A tight nod, but nothing more.
Haven wasn’t sure if his silence was regret for telling her or difficulty telling her any more. But he wasn’t pushing her away, and he wasn’t telling her to drop it. So she didn’t. “What was he like?”
Dare’s expression softened, and she felt it deep in her chest. “He was a tough guy with a killer sense of humor who would give you the shirt off his back. He was a terrible student who got away with murder at school because he could charm the hell out of the teachers. And he was loyal and protective of his family and took care of my mom and me when things got bad. Which they did often. He taught me a lot of what I knew about how to be a man, or at least, the right kind of man, despite the fact that we were only two years apart. And he saved my life.”
“He sounds amazing,” she said.
“He was,” Dare said. “Come here.”
Haven rose and let Dare guide her until she straddled his lap. His hands ran up the outsides of her thighs as her arms went around his neck. “At least you’re doing something with your life,” she said. “At least you’re making what Kyle did for you mean something. That’s a form of fighting back, too. You know?” She shook her head. “Unlike me. The crap I let my father get away with for so long. I just took it. And I can’t see how I’ll ever manage to do anything half as meaningful as what you’ve done for so many others. And for me.”
“I’m no hero, Haven,” Dare said, his expression agitated.
“You are, Dare,” she said, meeting his gaze. “You are to me. And I bet you are to Bunny, too, because she adores you.”
Dare’s hands stroked her back, his eyes suddenly softer, unshuttered, uncertain. He pulled her closer until their foreheads touched. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.
Haven’s heart tripped into a sprint, because the words held so much emotion that it made her heart ache with something a whole lot stronger than affection for him. “I don’t know,” she whispered back. “But you’re doing it to me, too.”
The admissions sparked heat between them until it seemed like the air itself was alive with electricity and desire. Between her legs, he hardened, and it shot a thrill of need through her body so hard and fast that her heart raced and her breathing shallowed and quickened.
“Fuck, Haven,” he rasped, his hands tangling in her hair.
“Yes, please,” she whispered, her whole body throbbing with arousal.
Dare had her shirt off in an instant. And then he was standing her up, stripping her down, and spinning her around. The chair he’d sat in screeched against the floor and his palm fell on her back. “Hands on the table.” Haven had barely complied when he gripped her butt cheeks in his fingers and spread them apart. And then he buried his mouth right where she needed him most.
Haven nearly screamed. She went up on her toes in pleasure, her arms bowing, her legs shaking. Dare ate her like a man possessed, hard licks, deep plunging penetration, using his whole face to drive her wild. And she was. Babbling, crying, trembling, pressing. She was nearly as mad to come as he seemed to be to make her come.
The orgasm was like a bomb exploding her world apart and putting her back together in whole new ways—of which Dare would always be a part. Like he’d imprinted himself on her very DNA.
Head still spinning, Haven wasn’t sure what was happening as Dare hauled her off the table and backward. And then he sat her down on his bare lap, his jeans hanging around his calves. “Ride me, Haven. Fucking ride me so damn hard.” He lifted her over him, and Haven centered herself over his cock until she was taking him in, taking him deep, taking him all.
“Oh, God,” she said with a gasp as she looked down and watched her body swallow him whole. She felt full and stretched and powerful and absolutely crazed with the need to shatter him the way he’d just shattered her. Feet together on the floor, she braced her hands on his thighs, and then she rode him fast, lifting and lowering her body over his again and again and again. Dare was cursing and grunting and digging his fingers into her ass. Haven was gloriously wet and breathing hard and sweating with the exertion of taking him.
“Fuck, Haven. Fuck. So good,” Dare growled. And then he grabbed her around the waist and stood them up, his body curled around hers. Arms banded tight around her, he held her in place while his hips flew, the sound of their clashing skin and panting breaths loud in the room. It was such a frenzy of movement and emotion that Haven felt totally overwhelmed, totally out of control, but she knew that Dare had her in his arms—and that nothing could happen to her as long as that was true.
The realization wound sensation tight within her body. It spiraled inside her until it was concentrated within the tight channel Dare’s cock filled until Haven was moaning nonstop and trying to push herself back against him.
The groan that ripped out of Dare was the single sexiest thing Haven had ever heard, but then he pulled out of her, leaving her dizzy and confused—until she felt the hot lashes of his come against her butt and her back. Knowing that he’d spilled himself on her skin—that he’d thought to protect her in the heat of the moment, again—was a complete turn-on, and did absolutely nothing to detract from the arousal still whipped tight inside her.
“Dare,” she whimpered.
“Jesus, Haven,” he said, hugging her until she stood up straight, her back still against his front. He was still a little hard behind her, and she couldn’t help the way she ground her hips against him. “Fuck, baby, you need to come again, don’t you?”
Her head reclined on his shoulder just as his right hand slid down her body. “Please,” she whispered.
His fingers were relentless, centering and circling on her clit in a firm, fast, slick grind. Almost desperate, Haven thrust her hips forward into his touch, chasing, needing, wound tighter than she’d ever been in her life.
“Come on, Haven. Come on,” Dare ground out.
The orgasm stole her breath and bowed every muscle in her body. Her nails dug into Dare’s arms as her breath finally exploded from her chest in a shaking cry. Her knees went soft, but Dare caught her. Of course he did. And he sat them back down on the chair.
On instinct, Haven spun in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. She buried her face against his throat and curled up against him.
And she didn’t care if it seemed needy or revealed too much about how she was feeling, or even about the fact that they were both wet with Dare’s come. Because Dare . . . Dare just held her right back.