Rather Be Wrong: Ronacks Motorcycle Club Page 9

  Her pleasure grew. She bucked against his mouth. The more determined he was to bring her pleasure, the more she let her body move. There was no escaping.

  He kept pressure on her while doing delicious things with his tongue. He kept her ass in his palms, holding her captive to his manipulations.

  Tighter, higher, her insides coiled. She dug her toes into the mattress. And her whole world melted around her in one giant explosion of wonderful.

  He continued touching her. Soft, gentle, easing her down from her orgasm. She finally inhaled a deep breath, bringing her back into her body.

  His head came up, and he locked his gaze on hers. She reached for him, clasping her arms around his neck. Her legs circled his hips.

  When she focused on him, and he saw the moment she gave herself over to him completely, he thrust deep. Her body woke up to the fulfillment of having him inside her.

  Then he went right to fucking.

  He rode her deep and hard.

  Her body recovered quickly, and she was caught up in him again. She pulled him down, sinking her mouth against the curve of his neck. “Rod...”

  “Fuck, yeah, sassy.” He grunted, thrusting root-deep.

  She held on tight as she came again. Her whole body constricted. Waves of pleasure pulsated, taking all her strength. Distantly aware of him holding still, enjoying his climax, she dropped her head onto the pillow.

  He remained inside her, poised above and looking...supremely pleased with himself.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Heather's knee hit the wall. Rod rubbed the curve of her hip. He hadn't the heart to wake her after the night they'd had together.

  She squirmed. He laid his leg over her thigh content to lay in bed longer.

  Her arm came up, and her elbow scraped against the sheetrock and a low moan filled the room. He finally rolled to his back, nudging her, and she rolled until she was on top of him.

  Heather snuggled her head down into the crook of his neck and then jolted fully awake. "I'll hurt you."

  "Lay still and I'll be okay. You're going to be covered in bruises if we stay in bed any longer. You were fighting with the wall, and the wall was winning." He smoothed her sleep-ruffled hair away from her face. "You move a lot in your sleep."

  She yawned. "Maybe if you had a normal size bed, I wouldn't bump into you or the wall every time I breathe."

  "I like my bed."

  "I like my bed," she declared.

  He chuckled. "Nobody needs that much room, or that many pillows."

  "Says you," she muttered, lifting her head and frowning. "It's crazy how I've slept with you for a week at my place, and last night we finally had sex."

  "Fucked you three times through the night. I have some catching up to do." He kissed her nose.

  "Slacker." She laughed huskily.

  "We should get up. I need to take you back to the duplex and then ride to the clubhouse." He framed her face with his hands. "After you finish work tonight, I'll make sure to catch up on all the sex I've missed with you."

  She rolled off him and banged the back of her head against the wall. "Ow. Seriously. You need a bigger bed."

  He rolled up to a sitting position. "Nah."

  "How about spending the night at my place?"

  He shook his head. "I want you here."

  "Why?"

  He stood from the bed. "While Swiss and I have had many occasions to fuck women in the same room, I'm not going to fuck his daughter with only a wall between your dad and me at the duplex."

  She groaned and threw a pillow at him, missing him when he stepped sideways. "Shut up."

  "Just telling it like it is." He picked up the pillow and tossed it on the bed.

  "Ew." She scrambled off the bed naked. "I have no preconceived notions that my dad has led a lonely life. He's probably done things I can't even imagine—nor do I want to, but really, Rod. I'd prefer not to know about your past or what you do after you're done with me."

  He stopped and pivoted toward her. Her acceptance of their time together hit him low out of nowhere. "Say what?"

  "Respect me." She slipped on her shorts having showered at seven o'clock in the morning and gone back to bed with Rod. "I'm low maintenance, I think. But, I don't believe any woman wants to hear about a man's past or have his plans for the future thrown in her face."

  "I never threw—"

  "I know." She pulled her shirt over her head. "I'm only letting you know in case I do come over tonight. I don't like to be reminded of certain things, like your past and your future."

  He stalked toward her and lifted her chin. "I said you're coming back with me after you finish work."

  "And, I will." She shrugged and kissed his thumb. "If you want me."

  "I told you I do." He dropped his hand, stepped away, feeling even more confused.

  She gathered her hair over her shoulder. Rod grabbed a T-shirt out of the dresser and decided to keep his mouth shut. Not sure if Heather bullshitted him or if she had a more natural way of viewing sex than most women. All the weeks of getting to know her, he'd pegged her as a woman who needed a connection with a man before she stripped off her clothes. That's one of the many reasons he'd spent his nights hanging around the bar.

  A distant bark interrupted his thoughts. He grabbed his socks, walked down the hallway, through the kitchen, and opened the back door.

  Girl sat on the step looking up at him. He opened the door wider. "Come on."

  A low growl answered him, and Girl's fur stood up in a straight line down her back. He squatted and sighed when she refused to come in the house.

  "We need to have a little talk." Rod scratched the dog under her neck. "There's a woman inside. Her name is Heather. She'll be spending time here with me, and you're going to have to deal with her."

  Girl's ears went back, and she bared her teeth. Rod stood up. "Dog up, Girl, and come inside and meet Heather."

  The dog jumped off the step and ran across the yard and into the hedgerow off to the side of the backyard. Rod scanned the yard and beyond the security fence into the forest. Girl would need to learn on her own that she could trust other people.

  He texted LeWorth and called for an escort because he'd have Heather with him, then went back into the house. The meeting at the clubhouse would only take a couple of hours, and then he'd come back and let the dog inside the house. She'd be fine out on her own while he was gone.

  He entered the living room to find Heather pacing in front of the fireplace. His balls throbbed in pleasure having her in his house. He cocked his head. She failed to notice he was in the same room as her.

  Dressed in her clothes she worked in yesterday. Clothes he'd seen her in several times when he'd visited the bar, she never looked so beautiful, and he chalked that up to having been inside her. Not once, but three times. He couldn't get enough.

  His addiction to her wasn't all about sex. She stroked something deep inside of him that had him feeling like he was flying when she was around.

  He exhaled, pushing his personal life to the sidelines. "There will be riders —"

  Heather shrieked, turned, and pressed her hand to her chest. "Shit. Don't sneak up on me."

  "I thought you heard me." He frowned noticing a pistol in her right hand. "I texted LeWorth. He'll be showing up with riders in a few minutes to ride escort to the duplex. Do you want to tell me what you're doing with one of my pistols?"

  "One of your pistols? I found a gun in the bathroom when I was looking for a towel, two in the bedroom when I made the bed, and when I sat down on the couch to wait for you, I-I felt under the cushion and found this one." She leaned over and set the weapon on the hearth. "It's like walking through a landmine in your house."

  He walked over, picked up the pistol, and placed it back under the middle cushion of the couch. Who the fuck ever sat on the middle cushion. Sure, if she were going to lay down, but to sit and wait for him, a normal woman would sit near the arms of the couch.

  "It'd be best if you find
a weapon when you're here, you just leave it where you found it," he said.

  She gasped. "You have more guns in the house?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  He picked up his club vest and slipped his arms into the holes. "Protection."

  "From the assault at the bar?"

  "Among other things. I won't let anyone take away what is mine, and I'll protect those who belong to me." He walked over to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, brought her close, and kissed her softly. "That includes you. You don't have to worry about anyone hurting you when you're with me."

  "Rod, nobody needs that many guns," she said.

  A soft continuous beep came from the kitchen. He grabbed her hand. "The club is here."

  She looked past him toward the kitchen. "What's that noise?"

  "The soft alarm when someone keys in the correct code at the gate in the front of the house." He led her toward the door. "It'll shut off in a minute. The warning is louder if someone tries to open the gate without the right keycode."

  Heather picked up her purse beside the door and walked outside with him. LeWorth, Mel, JayJay, and Choke sat on their motorcycles waiting. Rod looked behind him as he started his bike and Heather climbed on behind him. His dog watched from the corner of the front yard, her black head barely visible in the overgrown berry bush.

  He rode off aware of his surroundings, the few cars that shared the road, and Heather's arms around his waist. Daylight brought reality to him.

  If he planned to bring Heather over to his house more, she'd ask questions he wasn't ready to answer about how he lived his life. And yet, he wanted her with him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gia handed Heather a new food order and rushed back to assign tables to the customers arriving. Heather clipped the piece of paper on the rotating wheel in the cook's window, yawned, and ducked her head to press her mouth against her upper arm.

  Her dad's girlfriend hustled back and intercepted her before she could go behind the counter. Heather shook her head, knowing what was coming. Gia had tried to start a conversation about last night with her earlier, and she'd dodged the question.

  "I am dying to know how last night went. Did you have a good time with Rod?" asked Gia.

  At one time, she would've confided to Gia, but their relationship took a different turn when her dad and Gia became a couple. She respected their relationship and was happy for both of them, but she believed in firm boundaries between them. She had no desire for her dad to know about her sex life.

  "I did have a great time." Heather put her hands in the pouch on the apron she wore during work. "It was nice to talk without any interruptions, and I got to know him better. He's...interesting."

  "Interesting?" Gia laughed. "Ah, Heather. I'm happy for you. It's good to see you fitting in with everyone in Haugan and finding friends."

  A pang of sadness hit her, and she mustered a smile. "Me, too."

  Back in Seattle, Gia had become a victim of a crime, and they'd both lost a mutual friend to murder. It was how the two of them had met and how they both ended up in Haugan.

  "Speaking of Rod. He's here." Gia wiggled her brows.

  Heather looked out in the room. "And, there's my dad."

  "Mm, my night just got better." Gia hurried over to Heather's dad.

  With everyone's attention diverted, Heather openly ogled Rod. She'd been away from him all day and had convinced herself that what they'd shared last night was a fleeting moment.

  Her initial feeling about Rod had been right. He was loyal, dedicated, understood the difference between right and wrong, not that she pretended he was perfect but that he was a good person despite his loner attitude and unwillingness to bend to other people's wishes.

  Her pulse accelerated with her judgment of Rod. Maybe the arsenal in his house, the high security, and his attack meant he was a victim and not a...a...abuser. She inhaled a shuddering breath, not at all confident relying on her emotions. Her prior work at the woman's shelter working with beaten and scared women seeking shelter trained her to spot the warning signs of someone who had a violent side.

  But what she'd failed to understand about other women who found themselves fearing for their lives and going back to the abuser was the sexual hypnotic pull of someone who said and did the right thing at the right time.

  Rod's chest brushed her arm, and he kissed her soft and long. "Hey," he said with a growl against her lips before he gave her one quick kiss.

  But, Rod was different. He wouldn't hurt her.

  "Hey," she said, holding on to the edges of his vest. "Everything okay?"

  "Yeah." His hand slipped off her hip, and he patted her ass.

  She loved the familiarity between them and how he made no play to hide the fact that they were together last night. He just walked in and owned her when he was near, and a small part of her wanted to show him off.

  "Have you eaten?" she asked, needing to step away and compose herself before her dad noticed her fawning over his best friend.

  She still had two hours before closing the bar before she could go home with him. One touch from him and she wanted to wrap her leg around his hip and jump into his arms.

  "I could eat." He exhaled. "In fact, I'm starving."

  "You need a steak." Her toes curled. "I'll tell the cook."

  She made her escape into the kitchen. "Peggy, I need a steak and potato plate."

  "Putting it on now." Peggy leaned to the side out of the way of the overhead fan and whistled. "Girl, are you sick?"

  Heather straightened from her leaning position on the counter and put a hand on the back of her neck. Oh God, how bad did she look?

  "Nope, healthy as can be. It's been a long night. Busy," she lied.

  "Don't I know it," muttered Peggy, wiping her hands across the front of her apron. "Sixteen special orders since five o'clock. Why can't people eat the food that's put in front of them? I swear everyone is either gluten free, carb free, eating clean, or hardly eating. I'll tell you, if you find a man who appreciates a good steak and potatoes, you keep him. That there is a sign of a good man. None of that sissy-eating-low sodium-cleanse-to-shitting-can't-eat-the-food-the-Dear-Lord-put-on-your-plate...crap."

  Heather laughed. "I'll be sure to take your advice to heart."

  "You're a smart woman and wouldn't make the mistake of getting involved with anyone less than perfect for you." Peggy flipped the seared steak.

  Heather smiled and left the kitchen. She hoped Peggy was right.

  Her dad waited for her at the end of the counter in front of the kitchen door. She hugged him. "Do you need dinner, too?"

  "No. I need to talk to you. Alone." Her dad motioned her over to the side.

  She glanced over at Rod who watched her carefully. Gia, Raelyn, and the part-time waitress, Bethanee, had everything under control, and the bar patrons paid her no mind.

  "What's up?" she asked.

  Her dad ran his hand behind his neck. "I want you to know that what you do with Rod is okay with me and I want you to know if you need anything, I'm here for you."

  Heather smiled in amusement. "Gia told you what to say, didn't she?"

  Her dad looked away and nodded.

  She softened. Over the months, she'd found her dad often lost for words to explain his feelings. In other ways, he went overboard to show her how much he wanted to be a part of his life by fixing up her side of the duplex, buying snow tires for her car, and dropping off groceries and not letting her pay. He brought her into his life with the club, and always welcomed her into his life.

  "This is hard for me," said her dad.

  "I know, but it shouldn't be." She laid her hand on her dad's arm and looked up into his face. "I know you care about me."

  "Fuck," he muttered. "That's a given that I care about you. Always have. Always will."

  "Then, what's bothering you?"

  "Rod. You with Rod," he said.

  Oh.

  Never around to witness her dad's fr
iendship with Rod in the past, she never took his feelings into consideration or how uncomfortable he'd be knowing his daughter was dating his MC brother. An MC brother he knew longer than his twenty-six-year-old daughter. She exhaled on a sigh. Her guilt over causing her father discomfort added another reason why she needed to keep her head going forward with Rod.

  Her actions would impact everyone in her life. Her dad, Rod, the club, even her work situation. She needed her dad in her life and wouldn't compromise her relationship with him by throwing Rod at him too fast.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  He cupped her cheek. "Not on you. I'll deal. Just want you to know I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

  She closed her eyes at the pang of pain squeezing her heart over his promise. A promise left unspoken that she'd held onto as a child. The next thing she knew, her mother had taken her away from her home, her daddy, and everything that brought her security in life.

  "Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me," said Heather, wanting to believe him. "I better get back to working before the other ladies start stealing my tips."

  She stepped away when the bell rang from the kitchen signaling an order under the warming area. Changing direction, she walked behind the counter and picked up Rod's order. She'd had the same thing for dinner during her half hour break. Her appetite today was unstoppable thanks to the workout she got with Rod.

  Sliding the plate in front of Rod, she waited until Raelyn walked behind her and to the cash register, then asked, "Do you want a whiskey with that?"

  "No, I'm good." Rod picked up the steak knife at the edge of his plate in one hand and his fork in the other. "Everything okay with your dad?"

  "Yeah." She gazed over at the Ronacks table where her dad had joined LeWorth, Mel, and JayJay. "Have you asked him if he's okay? I mean, have you talked, really talked, with him lately?"

  Rod lifted his gaze. "Why would I do that?"

  "Because you're worried about him."

  "Not my problem how he deals with his life." Rod put the bite of steak he'd cut into his mouth.