BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (162 page)

Chapter Four

Stratton

After Leda left, I took a long, hot shower. Thinking about her tight little body and the way she’d responded to my touch was enough to get me hard again, and I almost wanted to jerk off in the shower. Instead, I closed my eyes and stuck my head under the spray of warm water, feeling her scent wash away from me. I hadn’t expected her to come clean about Matthew; for some reason, Leda always seemed like the secretive type to me. But she’d sounded so open, so wounded, so trusting, that I had to believe her. After all, it wasn’t like she’d
meant
to hurt me.

I was in a great mood as I walked back to my room. I was even whistling. Checking my phone, I saw that I had a couple of emails.

“Must have gotten them when we were busy,” I said under my breath with a wicked smile. As soon as I opened the email, though, my smile faded away.

“
Dear Stratton,

It pains me to write this letter to you, but I can’t let you continue in this fashion. Do you know that Suzan came to me and told me everything? How you had to marry some trash American girl in order to go back to the country last year? Does that sound familiar?

I didn’t want to believe her, but your sister knows better than to lie to me, unlike you, apparently. She revealed everything as soon as you’d gone, and I am coming over immediately to bring you home with me. This graduate school nonsense will no longer be tolerated. As a member of this family, I expect you to take after your father and behave in a respectable manner. A respectable manner does not include American whores.

Stratton, you have disappointed me more than words can say. I cannot believe that we managed to raise Suzan as a perfect daughter while you have turned out to be a complete failure. Take heart in that least you are young; no one will remember how badly you tried to ruin your life once everything has been settled.

Mutti.”

“Damnit!” I cursed out loud, banging my hand in a fist on the desk. The screen of my computer flicked on and off and then on again but the text of the email hadn’t changed. Closing my eyes, I leaned back in my chair and thought about what I was going to do. I was closer to 30 than 20, for fuck’s sake, and it wasn’t my mother’s job to interfere in my business. It made me incredibly angry that Suzan had blabbed; I should have known from the beginning that I wouldn’t be able to trust her. I thought about the night where I’d revealed the secret. The two of us had been out drinking, like usual, and she asked me about Miriam.

At first, I hadn’t wanted to answer. Miriam and Suzan had loved each other, and I knew they were still friends. But the more she pushed me, the more dishonest I felt. After all, even though I’d been angry with Leda, I still respected her and her feelings. It was totally abhorrent of me to think she would have cared if I spilled. But I wasn’t thinking about her at the moment. I was thinking about Miriam. I was thinking about the way she smiled up at me after making love. I was thinking about all of the times we snuck upstairs and had sex while her parents were downstairs watching a movie. I remembered when I’d first asked her to be my girlfriend; she’d cried, and I’d given her a gold chain-link bracelet with a heart charm on it. Since then, I’d never given a girl jewelry. Not even Leda, and she was my wife.

Suzan had pressed me for information about who I was dating, who I was seeing, if I was falling in love with anyone. She told me that Miriam had been dating someone for a couple of months but that it wasn’t getting serious, and that I didn’t need to worry. I told her that obviously I wasn’t worried; I had no intention of getting back together with Miriam. That was when Suzan had accused me of falling in love with someone else. So I told her the whole story, from the beginning (leaving out the sex parts, obviously—she’s my sister, what do you want?). When I was done, Suzan was gaping at me. It was like I’d spent an hour talking to her in a language she didn’t understand. And maybe that was part of it; maybe she really didn’t get what I was talking about. Still, though. It was no excuse to running and telling our mother.

Shaking my head, I opened my eyes and began to type. When I was done, I wasn’t completely satisfied with what I’d written, but it was better than nothing.

“
Mother,

Even if Suzan was telling the truth, it’s no business of yours to interfere with my life and what I am doing in America. I told you years ago that I wanted to go to graduate school, and I don’t intend to quit simply because you say I’ve embarrassed you. Mother, I haven’t embarrassed you. You’ve embarrassed yourself from the beginning, and if you didn’t act so hateful, it’s likely that I would have told you this myself. As a matter of fact, it is none of your business. Your daughter-in-law is smart, charming, and lovely. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like her; I do. I like her enough for the both of us.

Your son,

Stratton”

After I hit “send” I felt satisfied. It didn’t matter to me that I’d lied about our relationship. My mother didn’t have to know that it was only for temporary purposes. Shaking my head, I imagined that she’d find scandal in a divorced son but probably not as much as a son who married without her permission.

I got up from my desk and lay down on the bed, suddenly feeling exhausting. Dealing with my family always tired me out and this had been no exception. Before I knew it, I was falling into a dark and dreamless sleep.

“Stratton,” Miriam said. “Don’t you love me?” I watched as she slid her pale hands up her chest and began to unbutton her pink blouse. “Don’t you want to be with me?” I was powerless as she stripped out of the blouse, showing the perfect swell of her large breasts. Miriam threw her head back and closed her eyes, moaning, as she stroked herself. Between my legs, my cock gave a twitch and began to stiffen.

“Miriam, this isn’t right,” I managed to sputter. Miriam laughed and took my hands, caressing her body with them. The familiar feel of her curves sent waves of desire through me and I had to fight my base urges as I yanked my hand back.

Miriam pouted at me. “Stratton,” she whined. “I love you. I’d give up everything for you. I only slept with one person after we broke up, baby. I was only trying to hurt you. But I’d never hurt you now Stratton, I love you.”

I shook my head. “Miriam, we’re over,” I told her slowly. Miriam’s pout turned into a wide grin. She stood up and unzipped her jeans with her slender hand, sliding them down her generous hips. She reached to her back and unfastened her bra. When she was standing in front of me clad only in panties, she winked at me and turned around, sticking her ass out in the air. I made a point of looking away.

“Stratton,” she whispered, coming closer and sitting on my lap. I could feel the heat radiating from between her legs through her thin panties and I squirmed uncomfortably. She grabbed onto me but I pushed harder and just as I shoved her to the floor, she spread her legs. I watched helplessly as Miriam stroked herself through the crotch of her panties, throwing back her head and moaning loudly. “Stratton, I need you,” she whimpered. “Come take me like a man.”

Against my will, I started to come in my pants. I tried to hide my reaction from Miriam but she saw my face and threw her head back in laughter.

“You’re such a wimp,” she said through a storm of giggles. “I can’t believe I ever wanted you!

I woke up with a start to Leda stroking my chest. She gave me a mischievous look with her gray eyes. “You were dreaming,” she said affectionately, leaning down to give me a kiss. “About me, I assume,” she added in a teasing voice. When I realized she was talking about my still-hard cock, I had to look away.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, pushing her hair back behind her ears. “I fell asleep after you left. Do you want to stay here?” I moved over in my bed. “I don’t mind if you want to.”

Leda shook her head. “I have a surprise for you,” she whispered. “D’you want to see?”

I nodded with a slight bit of hesitation. Even though Leda was gorgeous, after that freaky dream, I hoped it wasn’t a sex surprise. I had a feeling that if I were to turn her down, Leda wouldn’t take it very well.

“You’ll like it,” she said. “I promise.”

“I’m waiting,” I replied in a singsong voice. Leda grinned. I watched as she reached behind her back and pulled a few pieces of paper. She handed them to me and I picked them up and read:

“Flight from Richmond to Denver? What’s in Denver?”

Leda’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “We’re going skiing!” she cried. “I wanted to surprise you with a trip. Isn’t that great news?”

Relief flooded my chest and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close so she wouldn’t see my expression. “That’s amazing,” I replied. “Thank you so much.” Leda murmured into my neck and snuggled closer and soon, I’d forgotten all about that dream. When I fell asleep again, with Leda tangled around me, I dreamed of us on the slopes.

Chapter Five

Leda

“What do you think of this one?” Megan spun in a whirling cloud of white sequins and lace. “I love it!” She cried, without waiting for me to answer. “But your opinion is important, duh, Leda.”

I laughed. “You look beautiful,” I said honestly. “Are you still thinking about getting married on the beach next summer?”

“Nah, country club or cruise,” Megan said with a grin. She stood in front of the full-length mirror and admired her reflection. It was true that she was beautiful; Megan could get married in a burlap sack and still look gorgeous. But now she looked radiant. The ivory dress cinched her in at the waist and flared out at the bosom and hips, creating an incredibly hourglass figure. Megan’s breasts were pressed together and she was showing more cleavage than my mother would have liked on
my
wedding day. It took me a moment to remember that I’d already
had
a wedding day—cleavage or no, it was in the past.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said through giggles. “Is this the one though? Have you seen anything that you like more?”

Megan shook her head. The attendant who was waiting on us looked both nervous and annoyed; we’d showed up and Megan had bossily picked twelve dresses to try on. The attendant told us in a nasty voice that normally, most girls only tried on four. Then Megan grabbed an extra two from the rack as if to make her point. The bridal salon was deserted, and I was annoyed that the service hadn’t been better. Who cared if my friend was being a diva; it wasn’t like she was stealing time from anyone else!

“I don’t know,” she said finally, tossing her head. “This one does great things for my boobs, don’t you think so?” She leaned over and admired herself in the mirror. “But I can’t really dance in it.”

I shrugged. “Change at the reception?”

“Maybe,” Megan said thoughtfully. “It seems so dumb to pick out a wedding dress and not even wear it for the reception.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, feeling slightly exasperated. “This whole wedding thing is confusing to me, Megan. You know that.”

“Fine,” Megan said. “Let me try on the last three and we can leave.” The attendant wearily got up to help unzip her and I scrolled through my phone, absentmindedly checking the news. There were muttered cried of distress and anguish from the dressing room and I clapped my hand to my forehead, hiding my eyes. Megan emerged in a tangle of white silk. The dress she was wearing had an enormous bustle that barely fit in the room behind her.

“I look like a duck,” she proclaimed. “I look horrible. Do you like this? I hate this?”

I had to stifle a laugh. “You’re still gorgeous, but that dress has to go.”

The attendant came out of the dressing room, looking flustered. “That’s one of our most popular styles,” she said in this prim voice that made me want to smack her. “Are you sure you don’t want a second opinion?”

“My friend knows what she likes,” I said. “Trying to convince her to change her mind isn’t going to have any effect, you know that, right?”

The attendant looked chastened and stepped away. Megan shot me a grateful glance. “Thanks,” she said, after the consultant had left. “I owe you one.”

“Just drive me home, if you don’t mind,” I said. “I’m exhausted.”

In the car, Megan started talking a blue streak about her bachelorette. I felt guilty; I knew she wanted some big blowout party but I hadn’t even had time to plan. And I’d spent a lot of my free money for the year on the ski tickets for Stratton and myself.

“So there’s something I want to run by you,” Megan said casually. “And I hope you’re not pissed.”

I rolled my eyes. “That sounds like a great start,” I replied. “I don’t have high hopes about this.”

“This is serious, Leeds,” Megan said. She reached across the console of the car and squeezed my knee. “I wouldn’t feel right doing it without your approval.”

My stomach did a flip-flop. “Spill,” I said. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Tyler and I had a long talk and we both decided to sleep with someone else before we get married,” Megan explained. “It can’t be a fling or anything but just one night, or the equivalent, but we both want to do it.”

I rolled my eyes. “You guys are so New Age and weird,” I commented. “You know I don’t care who you sleep with.” I narrowed my eyes. “But you shouldn’t do this if it’s going to make you crazy and drive you nuts. You know how jealous you can get.”

Megan patted my knee again and laughed. “I’m totally over that,” she gushed. “But I want to sleep with Stratton. Do you mind? He’s so sexy!”

I gaped at her. “What did you just say? Why Stratton? Why not some random guy at a bar? Does it
have
to be Stratton?”

Megan gave me a strange look. ‘This is exactly why I wanted to talk to you,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t get it. What’s with you, anyway? Why do you care who he sleeps with?”

“I don’t,” I said quickly.

Megan frowned. “Bullshit,” she replied. “You told me that he’s been really good and that he hasn’t been bringing girls home at all. What difference does it make if I hang out with him one night?”

“Just don’t,” I pleaded. “Don’t you think it would make things awkward for you and Tyler? You’ll still see Stratton around after you sleep together, you know,” I added. “Plus it makes me feel weird.”

“You have problems, Leda,” Megan said smoothly. She shifted her car into a higher gear and pressed the pedal to the floor. “But if it really bothers you, I’ll find someone else.”

Gratitude washed over me in a haze. “Thanks,” I said shortly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be unsupportive.”

Megan laughed. “You’re almost always unsupportive,” she said. “That’s one of the reasons why I love you. You’re like my sister.”

I smiled. At least we knew each other well enough where it was going to be a huge issue. Still, I couldn’t shake the bad feeling in my stomach as we pulled up to the house. There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway and the porch light was on. I could see moths swarming around it and furrowed my brow. We never left that light on; it was kind of a joke among the housemates. During break my first year of grad school, I’d left it on and it had started a little fire. Since then, we kept the switch taped down.

“Your house looks different,” Megan observed. “Sweet car, though.” She swept her gaze over the hunter green Jaguar coupe in the driveway. “Did Stratton hit the lottery?”

I shook my head. “He can’t drive here,” I explained. “Remember?”

“Those aren’t the kinds of things I remember about Stratton,” Megan said with a sly look on her face. “Want me to come in and hang out for a while?”

“Nah,” I said, getting out of the car. “I’m good. It was fun to hang, though. I liked those gowns. I thought the saleswoman was going to strangle you for trying on everything without paying, though.”

Megan laughed. “I’m picky,” she said, pouting. “What do they want from me?”

We hugged and I hopped onto the pavement. Everything smelled damp; it had been raining for days and days without end. Slowly, I made my way up the front steps. There were voices coming from inside, and they didn’t sound happy.

With a deep breath, I opened the front door. There was a well-dressed middle aged woman with blonde hair that I’d never seen before, screaming at Stratton. She was so angry that I could almost understand everything she was saying even though she was speaking in German.
Shit
.

Stratton saw me and the panic reflected on his face. He jerked his head and I started sneaking down the hallway.

“Not so fast!” The woman roared, switching to English. She grabbed me by the shoulder with surprising strength and dragged me back into the foyer. “Who is this, Stratton?”

Stratton looked at me and mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ before turning to the woman and saying: “She’s my housemate, Leda. Leave her alone, Mother.”

“Fat chance,” the woman sneered. She dragged me closer. I was standing so near to her that I could smell her perfume—a heavy wave of musk and amber—and see the pulse pounding in Stratton’s throat. “Who is she, really?”

Stratton shook his head. Stepping forward, I wrenched the woman’s hand off my shoulder. “I’m Leda,” I said forcefully. “I’m married to your son.”

The slap across my face was more than I was expecting and I winced and dropped to my knees. Stratton was instantly at my side. “Leda, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Go to your room and stay out of this, okay? I’ll handle her.”

“You haven’t done a great job of that so far,” I spat, standing up and eyeing the woman. When I drew myself up to my full height, I had a few inches on her. She had the same piercing eyes as her son and traces of his bone structure in her round face. That was where the resemblance ended, however; unlike Stratton, she was short, squat, and red in the face. The fat was separating from the bone on her arms, giving her the appearance of having chicken wings instead of human limbs. And much like a provoked bird, she looked mean.

“You don’t deserve to be with my son,” she said to me in a calm voice. “You should relinquish your hold on him immediately.”

I snorted. “Are you kidding me? Do you know what a prick he can be sometimes?” Stratton shot me a wounded look and I shrugged. “He’s notorious around here,” I told her. “And really, you don’t get to have a say in that part of his life. He’s an adult,” I said. Stratton’s mother looked like I had slapped her.

“He is still my son,” she said stiffly. “What part of that you don’t understand?”

I laughed. “So what, my parents are still my parents. They don’t get to make decisions about my life. It doesn’t work like that after you turn eighteen, sorry.”

She came closer to me and again, I was flooded with her awful perfume. “Maybe in this country,” she said loudly, shaking a fist at me. “But in Germany, we respect our elders. Stratton knew better than to get involved with a whore like you.”

“I’m not a whore,” I said icily. Stratton raised his eyebrows at me over his mother’s back. “And you can’t speak to my husband that way. This is our home, and you’re not welcome here.”

Stratton’s mother laughed. “Good thing I am not flying out until next week,” she replied. “I will be staying here until then.”

“Nope, sorry, Mom,” Stratton said. “We don’t have space for a guest. I’ll call a cab and get you to a hotel instead.”

Stratton’s mother looked like she was going to throw her son through the window. I winced as she stepped closer but Stratton put a hand firmly on her shoulder and guided her through the front door. Automatically, I reached into my bag and grabbed my phone. After I’d called a cab for her, I joined the two of them on the porch.

“Mrs. Müller, I’ve called you a cab,” I told her. “You can either go back to the airport or to a hotel. You’re not welcome here again unless Stratton invites you inside.” She looked at me with shock on her face. “Have a good trip,” I told her enthusiastically, stepping back inside.

When I was alone, I could feel my heart pounding through my chest. I felt a wave of shock and horror when I thought about how I’d talked to her. I’d never treated an adult like that in my
life
. But she was something else. I knew how hard Stratton had worked to get out from under her thumb; I’d be damned if I was going to let him cave to her now. It didn’t make any sense: why did she care so much about who her son was with?

Back when Matthew and I were together, my mother used to warn me about getting married before we finished school. I knew that she hadn’t always liked Matthew, but she’d never said anything of the kind to me. Most of the parents I knew wouldn’t dream of interfering in their lives the way Stratton’s mother had with his. It made me sad for him, and simultaneously proud that he’d managed to succeed as much as he had.

When Stratton came back inside, he knocked on my door. “Come in,” I called, dreading a lecture. I knew that even though his mother was a pest, he couldn’t have been happy with the way I’d treated her.