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Authors: Dakota Knight

Biker Chick (10 page)

BOOK: Biker Chick
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“The name's Crystal,” I said nonchalantly.
I took the card and glanced at it. Little knives of wonder stabbed me as I noticed the words under Tristan's gold-embossed name—Real Estate Development.
“So, Crystal, do you have a last name?” Tristan asked, moving closer to me and casting a confident shadow over me.
I didn't answer his question. “You're in real estate, huh?”
I looked up at him. He chuckled and nodded. “It's in my blood, actually.”
I raised my eyebrows questioningly.
“Family business,” Tristan responded to the question in my eyes.
“Interesting.”
“Why's that? Are you in the market?” he asked.
“Actually, my boyfriend is interested in real estate too,” I said with a smile.
Tristan looked as if I had dumped a glass of water over his expensive crisp white shirt and silk tie. He frowned and said, “Boyfriend?” He sounded as if he didn't believe me.
“Yes, boyfriend,” I replied. “We've been together for over three years,” I said proudly, happy with myself for resisting Tristan's charms. In another life, I would have definitely let him make his moves, but with Ray at my side, there wasn't even a question of where my heart belonged.
“Oh,” Tristan said with disappointment.
“So, thanks for your card, but I probably won't need it.” I started to give the card back to him, but he backed away.
“No, please keep it. Maybe you'll be looking in the market in the future, and I'd be happy to assist you.”
I shook my head. “I doubt I'll be looking anytime soon.”
Tristan flashed a devilish grin. “Well, you just said your boyfriend was interested in real estate. Maybe you'll be looking for a home soon. It would be nice to have your business. Please take it.”
I twisted my lips. Tristan thought he was slick, but I saw through his game. He could care less about Ray and real estate. I didn't feel like going through all the motions, so I slid the card into my back pocket. “Take care, Tristan, nice to meet you,” I said before putting on my helmet.
“Nice to meet you too, Crystal. Oh, and it looks good, by the way,” he said.
I was truly about to get an attitude. I smacked my lips. “You know what . . .”
“I'm talking about your bike. It's a Ninja, right?”
I cringed at the word “bike,” but I didn't feel like arguing about my ride. I was ready to go. “Yes, it's a Ninja.” I sighed. “Thanks and good-bye,” I said dismissively before straddling my ‘bike'. I started up my steel and revved up the engine so that the sound would drive out any further attempts at communication. I didn't even wave before I headed out of the parking lot and onto Hamilton Road, leading me home.
The wind surrounding me still had that strange feel. Maybe I was feeling a bit guilty for giving Tristan a second of my day. I shifted gears and sped up, trying to drive the thoughts of him out of my mind. Even the thought of another man invading my mental space seemed like a betrayal. Admiring a guy's good looks was one thing, but letting his image flash in front of me even ten minutes after he was out of sight was something entirely different.
By the time I turned onto the street leading to our house, Ray had reclaimed my mental throne. I parked in front of the driveway, took off my helmet, grabbed my bag, and headed for the front door. I decided to let Foxy Baby get a bit of sun before I put it back in the garage. Plus, if Ray didn't come home, there was an excellent chance that I would be hitting the road again.
When I put the key in the door, the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. A knot formed in my stomach. I paused, trying to figure out what was taking over me. I inhaled deeply before turning the key and the door knob. When I opened the door, I gasped, my eyes wide with surprise. My bag and my helmet fell to the floor for the second time that day. Standing there in the foyer was my man . . . Ray.
Chapter Fourteen
And my descent would be far from gentle . . .
The sight of Ray stopped me in my tracks. The man standing before me was not the man that left in a fit of anger only a couple of days before. We stood there, frozen, staring at each other. My mouth gaped open and I covered it with a trembling hand. Ray was the first to speak.
“Don't like what you see, Ma?” he asked. His voice was hoarse, and he sounded as if he had been screaming at the top of his lungs.
I tried to think of something to say, but all I could do was stare at him. One of his eyes was swollen almost shut. A cut, somewhat fresh, lined his left cheek. At least half of his face showed signs of bruising. His shoulders were slumped over, and even though he was fully clothed, I could imagine that the rest of his body had the same issues his face did. My stomach churned as nausea began to set in.
Ray took a step toward me, grimaced in obvious pain, and then took another step. My instincts told me to move back, but I didn't. I tried to will myself to speak, but I didn't know what to say. He continued to move toward me, one healthy eye and one swollen eye boring into me. Finally, a question formed on my lips.
“Oh my God, Ray, what happened?” I asked in a low tone, my voice trembling as much as my hands were.
Ray continued to move forward, one slow step at a time.
“Ray, talk to me . . .” My voice trailed off as I finally forced my legs to move. I stepped forward and reached out for my man.
Ray basically fell into my arms. He hugged me tight, as if he were trying to reach inside of me, take hold of my soul maybe . . . to give him strength. I embraced him with the same force, hoping that he could feel how much I loved him and missed him through the sound of my breathing and the beat of my heart. As we continued to hold each other, his body shook against mine. He groaned. It sounded as if he was fighting back tears. He had never felt or appeared so vulnerable to me, not even when we made love.
His head rested on my shoulder as he knelt into me. I could almost smell his pain and days of sweat permeated my space. When Ray finally did speak, his voice came out as a whisper.
“What did you say?” I asked softly, shifting my body into a more comfortable position.
“I'm sorry,” he replied, his voice raspy.
I sensed his tension. I caressed his back, hoping my touch would help soothe him.
“What do you have to be sorry for?” I asked. “You're here.” I felt him relax against me. In his current state, I didn't want to bring up our argument or the fact that he was missing without a trace for the past two days. We could deal with that later. All I wanted to do was make sure he was okay.
“Ray, please tell me what's going on. I need to know if you're okay.”
“I ain't got nothing to say.” He stiffened up again.
I loosened my hold, pulling back so I could look at him. His head was lowered, almost at my level, but he avoided my gaze. I pulled back further and asked, “What do you mean you ain't got anything to say?”
Ray backed away from me. He groaned as he stood up straight. “Ma, sometimes things happen, things you don't need to know about. I need you to understand that.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Then why were you just hugged all up with me then? You want my support but you don't want to talk. What's up with that?”
He exhaled loudly and said, “I don't need this right now. I've had it bad and now I just want to relax. Feel me?”
No, I don't feel you
, I thought. “Don't you think I'd want to know why my man is in our house looking like he's been fighting Roy Jones Junior after being gone for two days? I mean, you didn't even call or anything.” I forced myself to maintain a low tone.
Ray looked down at me and said coldly, “I told you I don't want to talk about it right now.”
I looked at him with the same intense stare and said, “And I told you that I need to know something.” I lowered my tone as a feeling rushed through me. “Ray, you aren't in any danger, are you?”
Ray seemed to notice that I stopped scowling and tried to sound as concerned as I really was. He exhaled loudly as his shoulders relaxed. “Cristal, you don't have to worry about a thing. Just know that what I do, I do for us.”
In an instant, my hot anger melted to warm feelings of love. I smiled, uncrossed my arms, and held them open again. “You can't blame me for being worried about you . . . seeing you like this. But I'm going to trust you. If you say not to worry, then I'm not going to worry.”
Ray walked over to me and embraced me again. “Thanks, Ma,” he whispered, “That's why I'm with you, because you understand me.”
I nuzzled against him. “What can I do for you? You want me to draw you a hot bath? Heat up something to eat? Whatever you want.”
Ray pulled me closer to him. His hands reached lower, from my waist to my butt. He reached inside my back jeans' pockets. I could feel him against me.
“I wish we could . . .” Ray mumbled against my neck. He didn't have to finish the sentence for me to understand what he wanted. Only a dude would come in from the storm, bearing the brunt of it, and still want to get some. I moaned, in spite of myself.
“But you're hurt,” I said, concerned. I could never refuse him, but I didn't want to cause him any more pain.
Ray grinded against me and said, “We could do it slow and gentle.”
Any other time, I would have already had most of my clothes off in a mad rush to beat Ray to the bedroom. Not that I had known a whole bunch of men, or anything, but I couldn't imagine that the satisfaction Ray gave me was something any ordinary man could do. But something was wrong. Something beyond his bruised face. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was there, standing between us despite the closeness of our bodies.
“What's this?” Ray asked. I was so deep in thought, I hadn't realized that he had separated from me. I opened my eyes and noticed the card he held in his hands. The one I had put in my back pocket before I left Jam-Book-Ree!. Tristan Grant's business card.
“What do you mean, what's this?” I surprised myself with my defensive tone.
Ray flipped the card around and Tristan's gold-embossed name flashed in front of me. “What the fuck is this?”
The tone in Ray's voice made me step back. “What does it look like?” I asked cautiously.
“What it looks like is that you got a nigga's number in your pocket. That's what it looks like.”
I felt guilty even though I knew in my mind I had done nothing wrong. I held up my hands and shook my head. “Ray, it's not what you think. I just saw Tristan when I was riding and . . .”
Ray flipped the card back around and stared at it. “Oh, you on a first name basis with this nigga?” he spat out.
Two questions flashed in my mind. First, why in the hell did I accept that business card? I couldn't really be honest with myself on that one. And second, what were the chances that Ray would just happen to pluck the card out of my back pocket? Looking at the odds, it was one hundred percent.
I huffed. “You're getting riled up over nothing. The dude sells real estate. You've been talking about getting into the house gig for a minute and I thought maybe . . .” I stumbled over my words.
“So now I can't do shit on my own, right? I need some nigga up under me, someone you met, to give me a lift?” Ray flicked the card out of his hand. It fluttered in front of my face before dropping to the floor. “You think I don't know how niggas think? You think he was trying to help me out? He was trying to get in with you. And I know your brain pad is large enough to know that.”
Damn
, Ray had it on point, even though I wasn't ready to admit it to myself. “You think I would jeopardize our relationship like that?” I pointed at his left eye. “Whoever did that must have knocked you in the head too many times 'cause you talking real crazy right now.”
Ray stared at me. I stared back. Maybe he was searching for the truth in my eyes. I can't pretend to know. But in an instant I was in his arms again. His lips were against mine. His kiss was rough and passionless. I tried to push him away, but he resisted. He tried to force his tongue into my mouth, but I wouldn't open it. His embraced tightened and he pressed his lips harder against mine. I wouldn't yield.
Finally, his head rose, but he still didn't release me. “Do you know what I go through for you? What I'm giving up?”
When I opened my mouth to speak, he lowered his head quickly and began kissing me again. This time, he forced my head back and drove his tongue inside my mouth. I tried to resist him, but I couldn't. When he released me, my last chance to get way, I stayed there, our lips locked as he unzipped my jacket. I had on one of his wife beaters underneath my jacket. He reached for my tits, and heat spread through me as he began to tease my nipples. He then pushed the jacket over my shoulders. I heard a soft thud as it fell to the floor.
Ray pulled me closer and grinded against me. He gripped my shoulders and we began to move forward. I knew where he was leading me . . . the bedroom.
Once we entered the bedroom, he got more forceful. His tongue burned trails along my skin and his fingers dug into my shoulders. I couldn't react. I didn't join in on what he had in store for me. Instead, I was silent as he pushed me onto the bed, as he tore off the wife beater, and pulled off my pants.
I lay motionless with my eyes closed as his hands rubbed across my body. There was no passion in his actions. I felt no love. It felt like anger . . . pent-up anger. I tried to find the familiar pleasure in his foreplay, but I felt nothing.
I didn't scream until he bit one of my tits. I tried to push him away, but he was too strong for me. As he bit me again, he reached for my face, pushed my head to the side.
“Ray, you're hurting me,” I said, breathing rapidly. My pleading tone did not stop him. He stuck two fingers into my mouth. I knew he wanted me to suck on them, but I didn't, at first. Then, he stuck his fingers deeper into my mouth. I had to close it in order to stop him. I reluctantly began to move my tongue around his fingers.
His teeth moved to my other tit. This time, he bit softly on my nipple and sucked at the same time. Electricity shot threw me and I arched against him. He groaned and grinded into me. Then he bit down hard again and I yelled out. He took his fingers out of my mouth and squeezed my tits together, biting and nibbling, making me pleasure and pain, and leaving me confused.
I exhaled loudly when he finally released my tits. His hands went lower and I realized he was pulling down his pants. His legs shifted on the bed as he pushed his pants lower. I could feel the cloth against my skin, as well as his arousal. One of his hands then traveled to the valley between my thighs. The other hand gripped my chin.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” Ray commanded, his voice deep and filled with lust.
I obeyed his command. The man I looked at, with the distorted and swollen eye, with the cut across his cheek, this was not the Ray I knew. I shut my eyes again.
“Look at me,” Ray hissed as he squeezed my chin.
I opened my eyes again. Ray stuck a finger inside of me. I fought to keep my eyes open. He used his thumb to rub against my clit. “Tell me I'm the only man for you,” he grunted out as his finger moved in and out of me.
I arched up. I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't speak. Ray released my chin and pressed his full weight on me. His head rested near my neck. “Tell me you love me,” he said before rising up again.
“Ray . . .” I began before he entered me. I screamed. His thrust was strong and forceful. Ray was big, and I wasn't ready for him. Instead of the sweet pleasure I normally felt when our bodies united, I felt pain.
“Tell me you love me!” Ray yelled out as he thrust into me again.
There were no words. I screamed again and again as Ray moved in and out of me. Faster and faster. I felt like I was going to split in half. It felt like he was trying to transfer any pain he felt from his fight into me. He grabbed my legs and positioned them over his shoulders before diving into me again.
“Do you love me?” Ray asked.
“Yes!” I yelled over and over as he thrust into me.
“Tell me!”
Ray began to move faster and his grunts became louder. I held on as he pounded into me and my legs began to tremble. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he began to shake. I continued to hold him as his body released its lust.
Normally, Ray would lie on top of me after he came. But after he stopped shaking, he rolled off of me. I lowered my legs, which were already stiffening up. I opened my eyes. Ray rose from the bed and was pulling up his pants.
He looked at me as he dug into his pants pocket. “You know I love you, right?” he asked.
BOOK: Biker Chick
9.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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