Jerk: Delinquent Rebels MC (13 page)

However, as he always did, Van had a way of making her forget her problems. Before he responded, he slipped his knee between her legs and brought it up, lifting her so that she was at his eye-line, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of her. April’s breathing quickened, and she was certain this time that she saw a growing need in his eyes. The mere sight of his desire made her panties dampen, and without thinking, she rubbed herself against his thigh.

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks,” he whispered, brushing his lips along her cheek and over to her ear, “because you’re
mine
.” The words sent a shiver through her, and she ran her hands over his chest, as Van growled, “You’ll always be
mine
, and that’s that.”

“Oh, is it?” Her words caught in her throat, as he sucked on her earlobe. With her legs straddling his, Van’s hands wandered down her body, slowly, possessively, pausing briefly to cup and knead her breasts. Her nipples had grown hard under her bra, and she moaned as he plucked at them through the fabric. She shot a panicked look up and around her quickly, worried that there might be a window open somewhere and their conversation—and what was following—had been heard, but there was nothing. Sure, a lone circular window at the very top of the wall, probably to a room on the second floor, but it was sealed shut. Behind Van, the wind rustled through the nearby trees. Cars rumbled down the road elsewhere, but otherwise, they were totally alone.

“V-Van,” she murmured, cupping his face and bringing him back to her so that she could meet his eye. “Maybe we should…do this…somewhere else…?”

She sounded weak, and they both knew it. There was no leaving that spot, not with the look that Van pinned to her, but she thought she ought to at least make a bit of an effort—just so she could say she
tried
to stop all this if they were caught. 

Van cut off her next bout of incoherent babbling with a hard kiss, pressing her to the wall as her legs wrapped around his waist. Immediately she felt his cock, hard and eager, against her thigh, and she knew there was only one way that this conversation could end. All of her fears faded when he kissed her, and she took his words to heart. She was his—just as he was hers—and it shouldn’t matter what people thought. There was an element of kink to their relationship, a hint of trouble down the road, but that was only if they ended things badly. With the way things were going, her worries aside, the chance of things ending poorly seemed slim. With James off her back, she could really give herself to Van; she had the opportunity to be with a man who desperately desired her and who made her happy.

Even if, in a few weeks, he would technically be her brother. Technically. Not literally. That had to count for something, right?

April gasped, as he pushed her dress up around her hips, her whole body alight with a heady lust that wouldn’t be extinguished on its own. Tongue thrusting into her mouth, Van slid his hands between her thighs and rubbed her, cupping her through the thin, damp material of her underwear. He pulled back, still stroking her as he smirked.

“Someone gets off when we fight,” he rumbled, his thumb circling her clit over her panties. April bit back a cry, her eyes clenched shut and head thrown back in sheer bliss. “Maybe we should fight more often.”

“It’s not the fight,” she insisted, and it wasn’t. “It’s… It’s you saying that I’m yours. I
am
. I’m yours—“

He slammed his lips over hers, pushing her underwear aside and slipping two fingers between her wet folds. April moaned, her concerns about being heard thrown out the window long ago, and fisted her hands in his hair. He let out a low groan, nipping at her lower lip hard enough to make her gasp, and pumped his fingers in and out of her. His palm rubbed the engorged little bud at the base of her being until she came. Her body clenched around him, and she moaned into his mouth, as pleasure rocked her body, her skin prickling, and suddenly the warm summer breeze didn’t seem so bad. It was almost refreshing in a way, her body shaking with chills as waves and waves of pleasure rolled over her.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, pulling away from his crushing kiss and gasping for air. Unable to stay away for long, she dragged his face back to hers, showing her appreciation for his compassion, his understanding, and his care through little butterfly kisses across his skin.

“If you think I’m done with you,” Van said, laughing, and she heard the sound of his zipper sliding down, “you are sorely mistaken.”

April nibbled her lower lip, thrilled that this wasn’t coming to an end anytime soon. Her mom would probably be wondering where they are, but then again, she was surrounded by pretty dresses, expensive jewelry, and an unending stream of champagne to make the whole experience just
that
much more decadent. By now, she might have even forgotten that she’d arrived with April earlier in the day.

It took a little maneuvering on their end, but Van soon had his pants around his knees and his cock buried deep inside her. April wrapped her arms around him tightly, her body stretching to accommodate his thickness, and found all she could do was just hang on and enjoy the heat of the moment. He started off slow, as he always did, getting her used to him again, delaying both of their climaxes—as much as it killed them—until the last possible moment.

His pace started to quicken soon enough, and she eventually found her hips slamming into the back of the bridal boutique, not caring whether the people inside might have heard it. Van wrapped her hair around his hand and tugged her head back, running his tongue over her neck. She closed her eyes tight, reveling in the delicious combination of pain and pleasure, her body starting its telltale clenching again, as another orgasm loomed on the horizon. 

“Never forget that you’re mine,” he hissed in her ear, as he pounded into her. April’s breath burned in her throat as she panted. She was so overwhelmed by the delicious wrongness of fucking outside, in broad daylight, that all of her previous concerns had officially melted away. She cried out when he nipped at her neck, and her eyes shot open, as he started to suck, no doubt leaving behind a noticeable mark that she’d have to either hide or awkwardly explain when all of this was over with.

“I’m yours,” she whispered back, nodding her head as best she could, and he took her harder, faster, as if spurred on by her words. The second climax that tore through her made April see stars, and she all but depended on Van to keep her upright. He did so quite masterfully, pinning her against the wall, as he slammed into her over and over again. Finally, he stiffened, his face screwed in pleasure, as he spilled himself inside of her.

He leaned against her for a long moment. Once she was in control of herself again, April stroked his hair, his back, and his face, then she pressed a gentle kiss to his sweaty forehead.

“You have to talk to me about these worries,” he told her, as their breathing evened out. She smiled and nodded, but the smile faded when he grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eye. “I’m serious, April. I can’t lose you over something like this. I know it’s going to be weird after our parents get married… I’m not an idiot. Things are going to change, but we have to take the change together. You’re mine, and I won’t let you run again unless it’s for a damn good reason.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, hoping that he wouldn’t see just how deeply his words touched her. “And becoming your stepsister doesn’t seem like a good enough reason?”

“Not really, no,” he remarked, as he eased out of her then gently set her on the ground. As they fixed their clothing, the hot summer sun beating down on them, April found herself in awe of how calm and collected he was about the upcoming change in their status. Shaking his head, Van ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Look, all I want is to be with you. Now that you aren’t worried about my dad interfering, I think we owe it to ourselves to give things a chance.”

“But—“

“Is the idea of being my stepsister that repulsive to you?”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as she scrambled to find the right wording. It wasn’t repulsive. She hadn’t grown up with him. They hadn’t shared baths as kids. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since high school up until the start of the summer, so, really, it shouldn’t bother her as much as it did.

“I just… You’re going to be called my brother,” she managed to get out, her words sounding a little hollow. “It just seems… off to me.”

“Then we’ll get through it together,” he assured her, kissing her sweaty forehead and brushing her hair away from her neck. The breeze felt much nicer now than it did when they first stepped outside, and April shot him an appreciative smile.

“That sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” April admitted after a brief pause. Once again, he’d found a way to put her at ease. It wasn’t the amazing sex that did it—not entirely, anyway. It was the way he looked at things logically while still acknowledging her emotionality about the subject, too. How had another woman not scooped up Van Palmer years ago? She’d have to put out a collective thank you note to the women of Cascade Falls at some point.

Now that things were settled, they parted on better terms than they met on earlier. Van opted to just walk around the building instead of going through the tulle-filled showroom full of chattering women, and once he’d kissed her goodbye, April fixed herself a few times over, smoothing a hand over her dress and hair, before stepping back in through the front door.

To her relief, there were no associates wandering around nearby. In fact, they were all busy with her mom, and April found her again with a wonderful selection of jewelry and headpieces scattered around her.

“Is everything okay, honey?” her mom asked, as April approached. April nodded and snatched a glass of champagne from the nearby tray, filling it with whatever was left in the bottle. “You were out there a long time.”

“We just had a bit of a disagreement,” April admitted, figuring a half-truth was better than a lie. “Van wanted to talk things through in person. I’d been avoiding him, so I’m glad he found me.”

“Oh, did you two patch things up?” her mom asked, as April settled on the white sofa beside her, instantly going for some of the more toned down pieces. “I really want you guys to get along. You seem to be doing so well.”

“Yeah, we… sorted things out,” April replied, her cheeks tinting, though she hoped her mom wouldn’t notice in the showroom lighting. “We really banged out the issue. So, it’s all good.”

“Good, that’s what I want to hear!” Her mom rubbed her arm, then she instantly turned her attention back to the task at hand: finding the perfect piece to complement her gorgeous gown.

Finally, for the first time since she’d start panicking about Van’s label, April could actually focus on the present.

And she found she really enjoyed herself.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Pulling up to Cedar Lodge on the back of Van’s motorcycle felt like coming home. It had become a place of comfort for her, and April loved spending weekday nights in the bar with Van. The place usually wasn’t crowded it if wasn’t a Friday or Saturday night, and all the tip-hungry staff who seldom paid attention to her on the weekends weren’t scheduled. Instead, she had an older group of staff to chat with while Van worked, many in their late twenties and early thirties, who weren’t all about the getting-blackout-drunk lifestyle that some of the younger servers enjoyed.

After their talk at the bridal boutique, a lot of April’s worries had fallen to the wayside. Sure, there was still a lot to consider, and as the wedding date crept closer and closer, she couldn’t help but wonder if her concerns would resurface at some point. For now, all she knew was that Van supported their relationship, that he cared deeply for her, and that he was willing to fight to keep them together. What more could she ask for, really?

Dressed in a pair of dark denim shorts and a hoodie, April had ventured out of her mom’s apartment that evening excited to spend time with Van on Cedar Lodge’s patio. He’d vowed to make her some more of his magical concoctions of fruit and alcohol, the ones that went down
so
smoothly, but he also promised not to let her get too drunk. She’d had a busy couple of days helping with wedding arrangements, and April needed a relaxing night to blow off some steam with her man.

The motorcycle engine gave one finally roar, as Van turned from the road to the parking lot, both of them bouncing as the wheels hopped the curb. April held tighter around his midsection, their helmets clunking together, until they settled in a spot near the main entrance. Up the road, the fancier resort was full of people that night, but she preferred the almost empty lot she faced here at Cedar Lodge instead. Sure, they weren’t going to cook her French cuisine, but April hoped they might put out a plate of spinach dip and some crispy dipping bread for them to enjoy with their drinks.

Well, she didn’t have to hope. Van was the owner, and whatever he wanted, he got—meaning whatever April wanted, she also got, though she tried not to take advantage of that newfound power.

Much
. She tried not to take advantage
much
.

Climbing off the back of the bike somewhat gracelessly, April tugged down her shorts, which had ridden up her thighs on the ride, and then pulled off her helmet. Once she’d straightened herself out, she caught Van admiring her legs, and she swatted at him.

“What?” he asked, laughing innocently as he locked the bike up. “I’m allowed to look.”

“Not like you’re a starving dog,” she fired back, a hand settling on her hip. Van straightened up and pulled her close, an arm wrapped snuggly around her waist, and she let out an embarrassing shriek-giggle, as he pressed kisses up and down her neck.

“Oh, but baby, I
am
hungry.”

They carried on a little longer, April’s cheeks flaming red, only to stop when they heard, “Ugh. Get a
room
you two.”

April hastily untangled herself from Van’s grip, doing so with some difficulty, and then waved sheepishly at Darla. She was one of the weekday day-shift bartenders. Two of her kids were off to college, while the third was just finishing high school. A no-nonsense kind of woman, she didn’t take crap from drunk idiots, and April really wanted the woman to develop a soft spot for her. Thus far, she interacted with April as a good acquaintance might, despite knowing her mom.

Maybe that was why she kept her distance. It must have been strange to see a friend’s daughter sucking face with her boss.

“And a very pleasant evening to you too, Mrs. Davidson,” Van replied, his lips spread wide in a cheeky grin. She waved them off, keys in hand, as she made her way to her beat-up truck at the far end of the lot. When she raced out, a trail of exhaust smoke dragging behind her, the parking lot looked even more depressing. Van, thankfully, seemed not to mind. While his dad ran his empire with an iron fist, Van took a more laidback approach to his business—and somehow, they seemed equally successful in her eyes.

Taking her hand, Van walked her toward the bar. On weekdays, there was no need to have a whole crew of bouncers loitering around the front door. Instead, the security guys usually sat inside, cups of water or tonic in hand as they watched whatever was on the TV screens that night. Sometimes, if Van was feeling generous, he let each guy grab a beer from the back, but only on
really
slow night. Otherwise, he refused to let any of his staff touch a lick of alcohol while they were there, even the shooter girls.

For some reason, April appreciated that about him.

After depositing their helmets in his tiny office upstairs, she made the rounds with him to each station, asking how the day was going, how profits were, what they could expect for the evening. As expected, nothing was over-the-top on a Wednesday, and there weren’t any crazy expectations for the rest of the night either. Sometimes the old bingo ladies who played at the club house a few doors down stopped by for watered down drinks to celebrate any wins, but otherwise, Wednesday was for regulars, guys who didn’t want to go home to their wives, or college kids looking—and failing—to find a party.

April hung back as Van took care of the business side of things, but when he was finished, he grabbed her hand again and strolled with her toward the patio exit. The bar out there was closed for the night, and none of the handful of guests had opted to sit by the lake. For now, they had the whole place to themselves.

“M’lady,” Van teased, as he pulled out the barstool by the railing for her, the lake’s dark waters just a few feet away. Water sloshed at the patio’s underbelly, providing a calming soundtrack to the night. Having spent a lot of her time in the bar these days, she had a new, deep appreciation for nights that had no obnoxious music blaring out of the various speakers.

“Why thank you.” She grinned, as she hopped onto the seat, and before Van could get too far from her, she grabbed his shirt and dragged him in for a kiss. He fell willingly, smiling until the moment their lips touched, and she slowly closed her eyes, relaxing into the heat of the moment. Out there, alone, it was easy to feel romantic with him—and something about seeing him in charge, running things, really did it for her.

Maybe after a few drinks she’d ask for a long,
thorough
tour of his private office—with the door locked, of course. 

“Now who’s being wildly inappropriate?” Van posed the question with a chuckle, their lips no more than a breath apart from each other. She raised an eyebrow, her hands wandering the muscular length of his torso.

“I thought you liked wildly inappropriate?”

“I think it’s my life’s motto,” he fired back, his voice taking on that deeply sensuous quality it always did right before he pressed her up against a wall and fucked her brains out. She shivered at the thought, recalling their passion behind the bridal boutique. If there was absolutely no one else in Cedar Lodge, she might have gone for his zipper right now—she’d probably find him at least a little aroused.

But for all her naughty thoughts, April was still much shyer than Van when it came to public displays of affection. Sure, they’d fooled around in a few public places, but always in a shady corner where no one would ever see. Van would have bent her over a table with an audience watching; he liked to show her off.

For now, they could settle with a little light kissing. She tilted her head up and stole his lips once more, mouths opening as soon as they touched. Her fingers threaded through his thick dark hair, and she felt a flutter of desire curl between her thighs.

Van was the one who got a hold on himself first. He pulled back, though it looked like it pained him to do so, and let out a long sigh, as he brushed her hair behind her ears.

“If we keep going, I won’t be able to stop.”

She arched up as he stood, taking his hand and placing it
just
below her breast. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah, you say that now…” Van laughed, trailing his finger down her neck. Shaking his head, he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “What do you want to drink?”

“Surprise me,” came her standard response, and he disappeared inside after snagging one last peck. Alone on the patio, April leaned on the polished wood railing and stared out over the lake, enjoying the array of stunning colors dancing across the water’s surface as the sun continued its slow, meandering stroll beneath the valley’s peaks.

Van returned almost ten minutes later with a round server’s tray in hand, on which sat a mysterious red cocktail for her, a cold beer for him, and a bowl of spinach dip with a plate of crunchy pita bread beside it. April grinned; she hadn’t even asked him to get the food, and yet somehow he’d just known that she was craving it.

“Thanks,” she said softly, touching his arm with all the affection she had before taking a small sip of her drink. As always, the flavor lit up her mouth, and she leaned back in her chair with a moan. He was so skilled at spoiling her.

They sat out there together for some time, slowly sipping their drinks, enjoying one another’s company, and munching on crispy pita bread. However, after the sun had set, a chilly breeze swept across the lake, bringing with it an array of pesky summertime insects that seemed to think April and Van were only there for their consumption. After slapping her leg for the umpteenth time, April made a request that they move inside, and Van was only too happy to comply.

Once they were in, it was another round of dip and a new drink for her. The pair sat at the booth farthest from the speakers, which gave off a hum of music softly. Feet nestled together beneath the table, they continued to enjoy their night—until there was an unexpected arrival.

April saw them first. Thick men—who looked a little grimy—entered the bar, strolling by the bouncer without a care in the world. Two men who didn’t belong, even in a bar like Cedar Lodge. If anything, they ought to be at rough-and-tumble country bar out in the middle of nowhere, where the beer flowed constantly and bar fights were a form of entertainment, not a reason to get banned. She shifted on the spot, as they made their way over to her and Van’s booth, her eyes falling to the tabletop when she realized she’d been staring.

Only at the last possible second did Van seemed to notice them, trailing off mid-sentence once the two burly fellows were only a few feet away. April watched his smile fade and his eyes turn cold.

“Evening, boys,” Van said finally, leaning back and spreading his arms across the top of the booth. He gave off an air of confidence that put her at ease, but April was sure not to look
too
relaxed. These guys smelled of bad news.

“Van,” the one closest to her said, faintly stinking of cigarette smoke. “Never see you at meetings anymore.”

“Didn’t like the direction they were headed,” he told them with a shrug. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Maybe we just came by to check out the bar,” the other remarked, his eyes wandering the wall decorations. Her cheeks flushed when the man closest to her glanced her way, and she pretended to be very, very interested in one particular piece of pita bread.

Van leaned forward and nodded, his leg brushing hers beneath the table. “Maybe that’s the case, but I don’t believe it for a second. What do you want?”

“We wanna talk about a job—“

“I’m not hiring,” Van interjected, smiling that dashing smile of his. While it worked like a charm on April, neither of the men were stirred by it. Instead, it only seemed to make their expressions more stoic.

“A job for you,” one grunted. “From your dad.”

“He can tell me himself.” And with that, Van grabbed a piece of pita bread and dipped it in the bowl, scraping the outsides to get whatever was left. The pair stayed, even after his obvious dismissal, and when Van’s stare met hers, he offered her a smile. April returned it as best she could, but she couldn’t shake the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. These guys brought bad news with them, she was sure of it—especially if they were dealing with James.

“Let’s talk somewhere more private,” came a suggestion, but Van shook his head.