Rebellious (14 page)

And somehow between my sobs, Reb got the picture. He sat on the couch next to me and somewhere between my horrible childhood and dating Michael, he pulled me onto his lap. And I let him. I huddled into his chest as years of loneliness and fear poured out of me.

When I was spent, I sat quietly in his lap. The occasional hiccup shook my frame.

“I'm sorry, baby,” Reb whispered as he placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

I sighed. “Me, too.”

We cuddled on the couch for a while. He petted my hair while I gripped his leather vest and hoped he wouldn't ever let me go.

Finally I relaxed my grip and looked up at him. “So you see, I kinda have an issue with control and abandonment.”

“You think?” Reb laughed softly and kissed my lips gently. “I get where you're coming from. I'll talk to you about what's going on—if I can. There are some things like club business where I won't. And that won't change, but I hope eventually you can trust that I'll take care of you—now and if anything happens to me in the future. I look out for those who are important to me.”

It wasn't quite an “I love you,” but it was damn close, and I knew for Reb it was a monumental concession.

But something bugged me.

“I still know hardly anything about you, Reb. It feels like you pick and poke until you uncover every single one of my secrets, but what do I know about you?”

Reb didn't say anything at first. His hand continued to rub up and down my back. The rhythm was soothing, and the combination of the motion and my exhausted emotional state almost had me asleep, when he finally spoke.

“I'm not sure that Tucker is my son.” He said it so softly I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly. And then he continued. “Last year at a party, when Rhonda and I broke up for the final time, she threw that at me.
‘You can have the little brat. Let me know when you figure out who his father is, because it sure as fuck isn't you.' 
”

My breath left me in a hiss as I felt his pain. I didn't know what to say, so I tried to comfort him without words. Burrowing into his chest as if I could heal his suffering with my touch, I held on, but I could hear his pain as he spoke.

“So now I wonder. Every time I look at him I question if that's my chin or if it's someone else's.”

“Reb, you can't do that to yourself. You—”

“You want to know the really fucked-up part of it all?”

I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but I nodded anyway.

“Tucker was there. He heard every awful thing that bitch said, and she knew it.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.”

“How could she do that to her own child?”

“I ask myself that every fucking day.”

“Are you…Did you think about getting tested?”

“For STDs? Hell yeah. I'm clean, by the way. But for paternity with Tucker?” He sighed heavily. “I don't think I want to know. It doesn't matter anyway. I've been his father his entire life. I held him when he was so tiny he could fit in my palms. I am his father. Nothing else matters.”

I echoed his words from only moments ago. “But still you wonder.”

“Yeah. It eats me up inside.”

I snuggled closer like it would make a difference. And when Reb's hands tightened on me, I think it did. We held each other on the couch as all the emotion in the room settled.

Finally, I cleared my throat and spoke. “Well, I don't care what the bitch said. I think he's yours. He looks like you. He's got your tough-guy stance down pat. And you both have that same widow's peak in your hairline. Rhonda doesn't have one. Maybe he got that from you.”

“Maybe.” Reb's hand rubbed my back in a calming rhythm, but I couldn't tell who he was trying to soothe. “So there. You know another fucked-up piece that makes me who I am. Does that help?”

I smiled sadly. “Oddly enough, it does.”

“Good. Now about your shadow detail—”

“Oh God, Reb, really?” I pushed away from his chest and frowned at him.

“Yeah, really. I need to know you're okay. I swear they don't bring me tales of whatever you get up to when I'm not there. Their sole job is to watch your back. Like today.”

“If I had a shadow, why did my tires get slashed? Shouldn't he have stopped it?”

“He was watching you, not your car. Because it can be replaced.
You
cannot.”

I heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. But only until this crap with Michael settles down.”

“Not happening. You're the old lady for the prez of a motorcycle club. Your security detail is twenty-four/seven. I have enemies, sunshine. We both have baggage.”

“That's one way to put it.” I looked into his serious eyes and knew he wasn't budging. “Fine.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, baby. And one more thing. If anything like today happens to you, I want you to call me. Not the cops. Not your friends.
Me.
”

“But the cops can—”

“They can do jack shit.
I
get business done.”

I nodded quickly. The furor in Reb's voice had my heart pounding. And oddly enough, my nipples tightening. When Reb got all take-charge and scary-biker, it turned me on. Especially when it was in defense of me. Wow, was that hot.

“Uh-uh, baby. I don't have time for that right now. I've got to go see about your car.”

“Wha— How'd you know what I was thinking?” My face heated with my blush. Was I really that easy to read?

“It was written all over your face.” Reb pressed a quick peck on my lips, then set me aside on the couch. “And no matter how much I'd love to throw you over the coffee table and fuck you three ways to Sunday, I gotta go.”

“You're just gonna leave me here? Horny and alone?”

“Christ, baby. Don't tease me. You're not alone; Tank is watching the house—you've got his number programmed on your phone—and I'll be back before you're asleep, to take care of the horny part.”

Before I could open my mouth and say something to tempt him to stay, he was across the room and holding the door open. “Lock this behind me.”

And then he was gone.

I slumped back into the couch, still amazed that he'd left me. I couldn't have been more obvious if I'd had a big, blinking sign over my head saying “Fuck Me.” But instead he'd left. It was a little bit insulting.

And his excuse that he was going to see about my car was so flimsy. It was four flat tires, and he owned a shop, for crying out loud. A few phone calls and it'd be taken care of. No, he wasn't going to see about my car, he was going to see the jerk who'd cratered it. But where earlier I might've been pissed that he was going to confront Michael, now all I felt was…dang, I didn't even know. Ambivalence? I wasn't worried. But maybe that had more to do with the fact that I knew Michael wasn't a threat; it wasn't exactly the same as Reb confronting his rival motorcycle club.

I tried to process all that'd happened between us, but exhaustion from my earlier emotional outpouring dragged me down. So instead I staggered to the front door and locked it before making my way down the hall. When I reached Reb's bedroom I stripped off most of my clothes, leaving only my panties. Then I tugged on the T-shirt he'd left on the bed. The familiar scent of Reb enveloped me as I climbed under the sheets. My last thought before sleep took me was that I really hoped Reb would wake me when he got home.

Make-up sex was the best.

The emotional scene with Emily did nothing to lessen Reb's rage. His whole body vibrated with it as he rode toward town. Goddamn asshole, ignoring his warning and slashing her tires. He had one bastard in his sights and nothing would sway him—no matter what Axle had said when they met up at the clubhouse earlier. Axle had tried to talk Reb out of going himself—sending some men to drive the message home instead—but Reb was adamant. This was one lesson he would teach personally.

Even if Axle insisted on riding along.

When they pulled into the punk's parents' driveway, it was late. The streetlights were on and the house glowed from behind the pulled curtains. The son of a bitch had to be bundled up safe inside, no doubt watching something sickeningly wholesome with his folks.

Reb swung from his bike, ripped his helmet off, and left it hanging on the handlebars. He had no plans to hide his face. The son of a bitch should've known this was coming.

The porch light was on, but Reb didn't even pause.

Or knock.

He lifted a booted foot and rammed the door open. It crashed against the wall before hanging drunkenly from one hinge.

Reb surveyed the room. A potbellied middle-aged man cringed in a recliner. A slightly younger but rough-looking woman squealed and hid behind her hands. And a young man in his twenties and Coke-bottle glasses cowered behind a floral sofa.

Michael was conspicuously absent.

Reb gestured to the hall, and Axle took off to make a quick search.

“Where is he?” Reb barked.

“Wh-h-h-who?” The woman shook with her stutter.

“Your son-of-a-bitch son!”

She threw a panicked look at the young man who ducked behind the sofa. “Chris?”

“No, the son of a bitch who likes to show love with his fists and terrify women.”

Axle came back down the hall twirling a baseball bat he must've picked up on his search. “It's clear.”

The woman threw her husband a
help me
look, but he seemed to be more concerned with his comical attempt to edge toward the landline.

Axle helped him out by ripping the line out of the wall. The phone made a few sad beeps as he threw it on the floor at the man's feet.

Reb smiled menacingly. “So, Michael? Where's he hiding?”

The man gaped between Reb and the heap that'd been his phone. “Now, see here. You can't just come barging into our house and—”

“Did you help him get away with it before?” Reb crossed his arms over his chest.

The couple traded a panicked look, but Reb was distracted by the telltale beeps coming from behind the sofa. He tipped his head at Axle and motioned to the couch. Axle tossed Reb the bat, then crossed the room and pulled the guy up, his cellphone glued to his ear.

“Two bikers have inva—gah!”

Axle ripped the phone from his hand and stomped it under his boot. The phone made a sickening crack as the screen splintered. Amazingly they could still hear a tinny voice coming from the phone.

“Sir? Sir, is everything all right? We're sending police to your location. Can you confirm your address as—”

Reb dove for the phone and stabbed at the red cancel button. The splintered glass tore into his finger, but he hardly felt it. Pocketing the phone, he turned to his gaping audience. “So where were we? Oh yeah, your girlfriend-beating, psycho son. Have you seen him lately?”

“Michael?” The young guy who Reb deduced was named Chris blinked at him from behind his thick glasses. “Michael's in Texas.”

“Bullshit.” Reb pivoted and slammed the baseball bat down on the glass coffee table. The table erupted in an explosion of glass that sent shards raining down on him. Reb shook off the glass like a dog then pointed the bat at Chris. “I know he's been in town today, so don't lie to me, punk. Next time it'll be your kneecaps.”

Chris shuddered in Axle's grip. “No, I swear. He's in Texas, visiting a friend. He called me last night from a Rangers game.”

Reb took a step toward Chris and a wet spot bloomed on the kid's crotch. He'd pissed himself.

“He's there, I swear.” A tear rolled down Chris's cheek.

Axle shoved the kid away with a disgusted expression. “We should make tracks, boss. If they traced the call, the cops will be here in a few minutes.”

“He's in town. I know it.” Reb shook his head. “Just give me one more minute with them.”

“We don't got a minute.”

In the distance Reb heard the wail of a siren. Son of a bitch. He pointed his bat at the family. “You say one word about who we are to the pigs, and we'll be back. But we'll bring our own weapons next time. You tell Michael I'm looking for him. Believe me, he won't like what happens when I find him.”

Axle preceded him out the mostly open door. When they reached their bikes, Reb stashed the bat and broken cellphone in his saddlebag. Now that both had his fingerprints and traces of his blood on them he couldn't afford to leave either behind. They hopped on their bikes and rode in the opposite direction of the sirens.

Reb was still hopped up. Where was that punk-ass bitch hiding? He didn't believe the brother, Chris, despite the fact he'd made the kid piss himself.

Because if it wasn't Michael, that meant Emily had another menacing asshole in her life, and Reb didn't like that thought at all.

Axle said as much when they pulled up to the clubhouse. They parked their bikes and took off their helmets, but Reb didn't get off his bike. Axle closed the distance between them. “So if it's not the ex, who should we be looking at?”

Reb shook his head. “Dammit. I was so sure it was Michael.”

“Doubt it. Once you make a man piss himself, he'll tell you anything you want to hear, and that pussy didn't change his story.”

“True.”

“Could've been some Tramps. They did strike your house. After we blew up their stash, they could've set their sights on our women.”

Shit.
Reb closed his eyes and said every curse he could think of. He'd done this to Emily. He'd brought his fucking crazy turf war into her life. Made her a target. Fuck.

Reb scrubbed a hand over his buzzed head. “Most likely. It's not like Emily has a whole fucking list of enemies. She's too goddamn sweet. Me, on the other hand…”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Reb flicked the buckle on his helmet. “If it's the Tramps, maybe we should pull all the women and children to the safe house until things calm down.”

“I don't have a family, so I can't really say what's the best move there. And we don't know for sure that it was the Tramps. I haven't heard of any sightings in the valley lately. Have you?”

“No, but that doesn't mean they aren't here.”

“True.” Axle pulled a cigarette out of his vest pocket and lit it up. “So what's our next move, boss?”

“Fuck me. I don't know.” Reb squinted at the streetlight as he thought it through, then turned back to Axle. “Put the guys on alert. No women should be out alone, just to be on the safe side. If anything out of the ordinary goes on, we'll pull families to the safe house.”

“I'll send out the message. But I'd bet my Harley Panhead that we're dealing with Tramps. We've fucked them with the Mafia and killed one of their guys. They'll be looking for some payback.”

“Yeah, tell the boys to be ready for anything. We don't wanna get caught with our thumbs up our ass when this escalates.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Reb exchanged a fist bump with Axle, then started his bike.

He had a horny woman waiting for him at home.

Unlike the last time he'd left Emily at his house, she wasn't sleeping on the couch with tear tracks on her cheeks when he got home tonight. Reb hesitated for a second, then locked the door behind him and made for his bedroom. If she wasn't in his bed—and mostly naked—there would be hell to pay. He opened his bedroom door and the sight there made him stop in his tracks.

Emily was asleep on top of the covers on her stomach, one knee bent. Her shirt—check that, his shirt—rode up on her back and displayed her tiny panties to perfection. Christ, that small amount of skin got him harder than the last time he had a lap dance.

Reb toed off his boots and ripped his clothes off with impatient hands. Once he was nude, he stalked toward his unsuspecting prey. Emily slept blissfully on and looked so fucking gorgeous in his shirt. The two grinning skulls on her back marked her as his property and made the caveman inside him roar. She was
his.

When he reached the bed, he put one knee on the mattress and jostled the bed slightly. Emily groaned and rolled to her back, still asleep. The gods must've been smiling on Reb, because now he had her exactly as he wanted her—minus the clothes, of course. But he'd take care of that soon enough.

Her black panties peeked at him from between her thighs. An almost indecipherable wet spot was visible at the center of her. His girl had gone to bed so horny it had left a mark. And her nipples were hard beneath his shirt. Whether it was from her dreams or the cool temperature of the room, he didn't know, but he was sure as fuck gonna take advantage. Where to start?

Reb crawled up the mattress until he was next to her side. Still she slept on. His eyes darted from her hardened nipples to her panties and back again. Making a decision, he bent his head and captured her covered nipple in his mouth. He suckled, pulling the delicate tip deep into his mouth until the shirt covering her was saturated and his dick was throbbing.

“Wha—Reb? What's going on?” Emily's groggy voice was so fucking sexy.

“Just saying hello.” Reb moved to her other nipple and gave it as much attention as the first.

Emily's husky laughter filled his ears and tugged deep at his soul. She clasped the back of his head with a warm hand. “Well, hello there.”

Irritated by the material between him and her delicious body, he leaned back and grabbed the bottom of the shirt with his fists and pulled. The material gave way in a satisfying rip. He flung the scraps of the shirt down. The collar still encircled Emily's neck, but the part he wanted to get to—her delectable breasts—was out in the open for his hungry eyes and hands.

“Oh my God.” Emily gasped. “That was the hottest freaking thing you've ever done.”

“Well, hold on tight, 'cause you're in for a wild ride tonight, baby.” Reb grinned down at her before closing the distance between them and taking her mouth in a scorching kiss. His tongue dueled with hers while his hands made quick work of the scrap of fabric covering her sweet pussy. As he kissed his way along her proud jawline to her delicate throat, his fingers teased the seam of her cunt. He drew her moisture up toward her clit. Thumbing back the hood, he carefully traced the outer edge of her clitoris.

Emily groaned and tried to close her legs around his hand. Reb distracted her by scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin just below her jaw. He sucked her skin into his mouth until she relaxed her legs and twisted closer to him.

Reb took full advantage.

He left her—no doubt throbbing—hickey to kiss a trail down her neck and chest to her hard, thrusting nipples. He took one into his mouth as he drew one finger down the seam of her cunt and teased her opening. But just when her body tightened, his finger darted back north and played with her clit. He kept her guessing, nuzzling one breast then the other, teasing her clit, then thrusting one, two, and finally three fingers inside her. Just when she was close to orgasming he'd change it up. Until she moaned in disappointment. Until she finally snapped.

“Oh my God, Reb. Please. Please let me…” She groaned when he left her hanging again. “What's the point of this if you won't let me come?”

“Haven't you ever spent days dreaming about something, wanting it with every fiber of your being?”

She bit her lip. “I used to feel that way about having a real family, before Jessica's parents took me in.”

“Ah, baby, that fucking hurts my heart.” Reb leaned down and gently kissed her lips. Breaking the kiss, he looked deeply into her eyes. “But not what I'm talking about. Have you ever wanted something delicious, something dangerous or bad for you? You spent so much time trying not to think about it that it was all you could think about?”

She nodded slightly.

“And how did it taste once you finally had it?”

Emily licked her lips. “So fucking good.”

Reb groaned. There was nothing hotter than a good girl turned bad. And Emily was looking very bad at the moment.

He leaned back and grasped his dick in his left hand. Reb pumped it once, twice. Emily's eyes narrowed as she watched him. He would've sworn he saw saliva pool in her mouth but maybe he was being too optimistic. Leaning over to the nightstand, he pulled open the drawer and took out a condom.

“Before you…suit up, maybe I should help you out there?” Emily blinked up at him with her innocent baby blue eyes.

“Christ.” Reb closed his eyes and had to concentrate on not coming all over her tight little body. Fuck, that wasn't helping. He mentally pictured the starting lineup of the San Francisco Giants. Their new starting pitcher was an ugly son of a bitch. That helped.

Some.

“Reb? Are you okay? Is that not…Do you not like that? Or just don't want
me
to—”

His eyes flew open. “No, baby. It's not you. Believe me.” He gestured to his throbbing dick that even the Giants' starting pitcher couldn't deflate. “But you've got me on a razor's edge. Just the thought of your lips wrapped around me is enough to—” He groaned.

“ 'Kay. Maybe later?”

“If you want me to actually fuck you and not shoot off all over your breasts
before
I get inside you, you gotta stop with the sweet eyes and hot mouth. God, baby, that mouth.” Reb closed his eyes again and pictured every fucking ugly-ass ballplayer he could think of. Once his cock was back to a manageable throb, he rolled the condom on.