Jerk: Delinquent Rebels MC (8 page)

It had to stop. She hated herself for it, but she knew that she’d thank herself sometime down the road for putting an end to things.

“April,” Van breathed, running a hand through his hair. He took a step toward her again, but she shook her head, arms wrapped around herself in a solo hug. Her lower lip trembled.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she told him, hoping she sounded sure of herself. “We… can’t.”

“But…” Their eyes met, and she begged, pleaded, for him to let it go. Van exhaled noisily, swallowing hard enough to make his Adam’s apple bob noticeably, and then stepped back. “Okay.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Let me at least give you a ride home.”

“That’d be fine,” she told him, grabbing her grocery bags and gesturing for him to lead the way. He gave her one last hard look before turning around, and as April followed him, she pressed her lips together tight to keep him from hearing her cries, knowing that the rain would hide most of her sadness—for her anyway.

CHAPTER NINE

She couldn’t take it anymore. The forced conversations. The fake smiles. The inane banter at the dinner table. The way her mom looked at James Palmer, like he was the best thing since sliced bread. It was just… too much. Too much change. Too much, too fast.

Too many veiled threats dictating her romantic decisions. Only a few long days had passed since she and Van shared a quick, yet heated, kiss in the woods, and even now she could still feel it. She felt his lips on her neck. She felt the cold rain painting her face. She felt the distinct sting of her words and his, and the loneliness in her heart when they parted ways. It was for the best, of course, but that didn’t make it feel any better.

He might have still been a womanizer, but he made her feel beautiful with nothing more than a fleeting glance. He made her want him just by smiling from across the dinner table. He’d hurt her heart already, and
she
had been the one to do all the dictating. April couldn’t take it.

As if garden parties weren’t enough, James and her mom had recruited her to help with a dinner party that evening, using her to prep salads and make intricate shapes out of cloth napkins for their guests. Half the town’s elite had been invited, and they took up residence in James’s garish dining hall just off the kitchen, at a long table with tasteful place settings and gorgeous floral arrangements—the only non-awful things in the room, designed entirely by her mom.

Van had to play bartender for all the guests, working behind James’s expensive wooden bar at the far end of the room up until dinner was served. Naturally, she and Van were put in charge of delivering all the plates, along with a severely overworked housekeeper, and she’d barely spent a full hour that night seated. Somehow she’d been relegated to servant now that James and her mom were throwing parties together, and while she’d do anything for her mom, she really wished they’d just hire a catering company and be done with it. This was Cascade Falls; there may have been a few wealthy residents, but the services were fairly cheap overall.

It wasn’t so much that she minded working; it was that she minded working with Van. Every accidental brush, touch, and look made her heart ache, and now that the party had shifted to the sitting room to enjoy after-dinner drinks, April couldn’t take it anymore. She needed air.

Ducking out through the patio doors, ignoring the sullen chef cleaning dishes at the sink, she jogged down the porch and onto the perfectly manicured lawn. The air was crisp but warm, the last lingering moments of winter finally faded from the nights, and it was just what she needed to clear her head. Inhaling deeply, she strolled toward the ravine, remembering the tour she’d been given all those years ago by Van. A stream cut through the back of the property, and one needed to clamber over a little bridge to reach the guest house where they’d shared a night together.

It was still there, that little bridge. Unable to help herself, April reached out and touched the wood.

“Bit stuffy in there.”

She jumped back, hastily withdrawing her hand from the damp wood of the bridge, and whirled around to find Van approaching. He’d unbuttoned a few of the top buttons of his white dress shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. She bit the insides of her cheeks, then turned around, staring into the forest as if that suddenly interested her. The trees had grown since she was last this close, but otherwise it looked just the same.

“Dad thinks this kind of stuff is bullshit, you know,” Van told her. He stopped by her side, arms crossed, and April shifted so that their bodies wouldn’t touch—despite how badly she wanted them to. “I think he throws all these parties for your mom.”

“Well, she’s accustomed to a certain lifestyle,” April remarked. Parties. Drinks. Dinners. Her mom had become the epitome of a socialite after her dad died, finally taking the time to spend some of the wealth she’d accumulated through her boutiques. April couldn’t fault her for that. The Golden Years were a time to thrive.

What worried her, however, was that her mom was the one paying for these lavish parties thrown at James and Van’s estate, throwing cash into at like she had millions to spare. She shook her head, quickly brushing the worry aside. It was hard to concentrate on much with Van hovering nearby anyway.

Through the tree line, April could
just
make out the guest house, and without a word, Van took her hand and tugged her across the bridge. For some reason beyond comprehension, she let him pull her along, glancing back at the brightly lit house behind her only once. No one would even know they were missing.

“I spruced up the place,” he told her, as they neared the small guest house, still hand-in-hand. “Did a bit of remodeling after I bought the bar.”

“Had some cash sitting around?” She meant it as a joke, but when he said nothing in response, April sighed. She knew she shouldn’t go in there with him, but it felt good to hold his hand, and in the moonlight, Van was outrageously handsome. More so now than ever before.
Stupid moonlight.

He produced a small key from his pocket, much like he’d done after prom, and opened the front door. She gasped once she’d stepped inside; he had done some serious work. Beautiful beams of wood across the ceiling, new tile flooring, a beautiful fireplace with a few couches aimed toward it. The place had become a stunning retreat—just what she needed on a night like tonight.

“It looks… fantastic,” she mused, stiffening when he pressed up behind her, his hands smoothing around her waist, his face nuzzling her neck. Her eyes threatened to drift closed, but she fought the urge. “Van…”

“Why do you make it so difficult?” he murmured, his arms tightening around her. “I want to listen. I want to stay away because
you
want me to, but… fuck, April.”

Tentatively, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, subtly encouraging him to kiss her neck—which he seemed happy to oblige her with. They rocked back and forth in a music-less dance, Van trailing his lips across her skin, her abdomen clenching in anticipation.

“We c-can’t,” she said, but the words tasted hollow. Had he known this was what she thought about every time she looked at him tonight? Had he sensed her want, her desire for him? Perhaps if she’d looked close enough, she’d see the blazing embers of lust in
his
eyes, too.

Van straightened up suddenly, and before she could protest, he’d spun her around and hoisted her up over his broad shoulder. She squealed, clutching the back of his shirt, as he carried her in the general direction of the bedroom. She could have fought him. Protested loudly. Kicked him in his rock-hard abs.

But she didn’t. As he tossed her down on a new king-sized bed, the covers plush and cozy, April decided she’d rather surrender.

“We’ll get in trouble,” she whispered, as he crawled up her body, pausing here and there to nip and kiss her, dragging her dress up with him. Van chuckled, his breath warm on her neck.

“I like trouble,” he insisted, grazing his teeth over her skin. “Keeps things exciting….”

Rather than respond, April cupped his face and dragged him up, slamming her lips to his in a kiss she’d wanted to give ever since they left the woods. Van responded enthusiastically, biting at her lower lip and sliding his tongue over hers when she gasped. He was rougher than she remembered, yet despite his heavy hand and biting kisses, there was an aura of respect there. This time, when he yanked her dress off and tossed it aside, his eyes wandered her body appreciatively, not hungrily, taking her in like she was a piece of fine art.

But if anyone was fine art, it was Van. His body was sculpted to perfection, making her shy as they shed their clothing—shy and aroused, that is. Somehow she managed to roll them over, and she took her time bestowing kiss after kiss across his taut and toned abdomen, licking the indents and grooves of his muscles, pleased with the way it drove him wild. His hips bucked beneath hers, nothing but their underwear keeping them divided, and she moaned when his cock, hard and difficult to ignore, ground against her swollen clit.

“I just want to take care of you,” he whispered, rolling her onto her back and sliding down her body. April watched, nibbling her lower lip, as he dragged her panties down to her ankles. “Let me take care of you.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, it was almost as if he was asking for permission. Inhaling shakily, she nodded and watched him press kisses up her legs, along her thighs, his hands spreading her by the knees. This was it. The point of no return. They hadn’t really done anything yet, and she could have backed out—

“Oh!” she cried when his tongue swept over her slick folds. She whimpered his name, her fingers buried in his hair, as he licked and sucked and fucked her with his tongue, taking her higher and higher until she climaxed minutes later. He hadn’t done
that
before. No, this was a first, and he’d definitely improved his skills since they were last together. Hazy from her orgasm, April incoherently begged for him to take her, pulling him up and gripping his solid shaft through his boxers.

He cursed under his breath, pushing her hand aside before ridding himself of the last piece of fabric that stood between them. Yanking her legs up around his waist, Van thrust into her completely, filling her all at once, straight down to the hilt. The pleasure from coming only moments earlier seemed to triple as he took her, prolonging the bliss, his hips slamming against her over and over again.

She captured his lips briefly, tasting her juices on his tongue, and found herself desperate for more. More closeness. Harder thrusts. Van mouth wandered lower as he slammed into her, covering her achingly pert nipple with his mouth, and April fisted her hands in his hair when his tongue swirled around the hard nub—followed shortly by his teeth. She gasped, her eyes narrowing when he looked up at her with a cheeky grin. She would get him back for that, but not tonight. Tonight, she savored the intimacy instead.

Her cries filled the little guest house when she came a second time, her melodic soprano tone punctuated by Van’s harsh groans, as he spilled himself inside of her. Panting, her body flushed with pleasant heat, she stroked her hands through his hair. Van rolled off of her, and the pair laid next to one another in contented silence for some time.

“I meant what I said,” he rumbled finally, and April glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. Her mind had been clear and light for the first time since she’d returned to Cascade Falls, and a part of her didn’t want to lose that.

“What?”

“That I want to take care of you,” Van told her as he shifted onto his side. She reached out and stroked his cheek with the backs of her knuckles. “Outside of the bedroom, I mean.”

April sighed, her old niggling worries worming their way back in to what was a temporarily blissful moment.

“It doesn’t need to be something serious,” Van said, sitting up and taking her hand. “We can keep it casual. Date. See how things go. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“It’s never that easy,” she told him with a slight shake of her head. But why couldn’t it be? Sure, James was a factor, but the old man was a distant memory at this point, totally forgotten in a world where it was just Van and her, alone in a cozy bedroom, sweaty in the aftermath of their much-needed reunion.

“April—”

“But nothing you want is ever easy, I guess,” she said, the words falling from her lips before she could stop them. She meant them. If Van could prove himself to be the charming man he claimed to be, the grown-up business owner who took care of her needs first before he fucked her brains out, then maybe she ought to give him a chance.

She
deserved to be happy, too. If Van made her happy, why hold back anymore? Being separate was only making her miserable. Smiling, she rolled on top of him, sealing the deal with a gentle kiss, then giggled when he dragged her off the bed and into the shower, ready to go again before the water warmed.