Blood and Honor (6 page)

A tattooed outlaw turned sexy surfer beach bum? She’d fuck that in a heartbeat.

So what if he had a kid? And a woman. Whatever. The slut had Dax practically checking out of the club. Forgoing his duty. It wasn’t cool. And Alanna knew that Hawk was feeling the sting of Dax’s decision. Hawk needed him—and that little bitch he was with was obviously fucking with Dax’s head and his sense of his priorities.

As for Slade…now, he was a good stand-in. Tall. Blond. Brooding. He fit the bill for sure. But Slade was a tough nut to crack. Alanna had tried every little wile she could think of, but her ploys only seemed to push him farther away. Still, she resolved to get to him. There was something about Slade. The man was tenacious. He was here for the long haul—and he had an agenda. Anyone with eyes could see that.

Alanna sighed, rubbing her forearm absently. It didn’t really hurt, but the small scar that would forever remind her of the shit that went down in paradise felt tight from time to time. It gave her a strange sense of connection to know that she and Dax had both been wounded by those crazy fuckers. It was something they shared…in addition to the fact that she had fucking saved his kid.

Dax would never forget that.

Don’t worry, I’m right here waiting for you, baby.
Holding your place.

Alanna stretched lazily and then sauntered to the bar for a drink. Hawk would be back soon. Time to work on a good buzz. She’d do what needed to be done to get to her goal. But it was hard to fake it all the time. When she was sauced, fucking the old man was a little bit easier to bear.

Chapter Ten

It happened a lot now.
At first, Mickey could count the number of times he touched her on one hand.
Then two.
Then…she lost count.

Mickey knew that it was only a matter of time before the inevitable occurred.
There was no one she could turn to.
Her mother was working double shifts to cover the bills and Rhiannon was never around any more.
Paul spent all of his time at the bar or playing cards.
Sometimes, he went to the track and those were the nights she wished she was anywhere but her house—he was either giddy with excitement over his winnings, or angry and bitter about losing the mortgage payment.

In either case—he took out his emotions on her.

Mickey dreaded coming home but there was nowhere else to go.
She had exhausted her welcome at her friends’ homes.
She saw the looks their parents exchanged when she showed up after school, day after day.
She tried to rotate the homes she begged refuge from.
But after a few months, Mickey discovered that her friend list had dwindled.
There were two she could count on.

Then one.

Then…none.

Rhee blamed her absences on her new boyfriend Marco, her after school clubs, and more recently, her college applications.
Mickey couldn’t blame her in the least.
Her stepfather wasn’t pleased about Rhee’s disappearing act but he held it together until her mother left for work.

“Your sister‘s a whore,” Paul would sneer.
“Bet she’s sucking his cock right now.
You’re jealous, huh?
Baby girl?
Wish you were your big sister?
Here, let me do you a favor.”

At first, Mickey fought him.
Left marks that she was certain her mother would see.
Her thighs and wrists were bruised.
She scored his back and one time, even his cheek with her nails, but it made no difference.
Did her mother ignore it?
Did she fail to see it?

Why didn’t she intervene?

“You tell her and I’ll kick her used up ass.”

Mickey believed him.
After the first few times, she started to think that her resistance made it worse.
So, she just lay there and took it.

Started thinking…maybe she deserved it.

One night, he pinched her nose and poured whiskey down her throat.
Liquor became her salvation.
Part of her just floated away.
Mickey learned soon enough that if she drank enough, she didn’t much care what Paul did to her body.

Or remember it either.

She started sneaking it in the evenings after dinner.
Alcohol had a way of dulling the pain.
After he touched her, made her touch him, she would lie there, unmoving, focused on the dolly who sat on her headboard—it reminded her of Rhiannon.
The cracked cheek and kind smile on the doll’s face tricked her into thinking about easier times.
The red light in the ceiling shone on her like an angry red eye.
She thought it was the eye of the devil.
She stared at the unwavering glow and wondered if she was going to hell.

Maybe…she was already there.

Chapter Eleven

Rhee was trying desperately to keep up the façade but it just wasn’t working. She stifled the snicker that threatened to escape out of her throat but she was unable to contain it.

“No giggling, stowaway.” His voice was both disgruntled and aroused.

Rhee surveyed her handiwork. A grumbly Dax Jamison, tanned and hard—all over—his wrists secured to the headboard with a silken tie. Naked as the day he was born.

Why was the sight so comical?!

“Don’t test me, little girl. You’re lucky I’m going along with this.”

It was true—Dax hated being restrained in any way. But this particular little fantasy had been running around in her brain for quite some time now. She wanted Dax at her mercy for a change.

“You want me to send those pictures of your tea party to the club, tough guy?”

“At this point, baby, I don’t give a fuck. Take that sarong or whatever the hell it is
off.
Now
.”

“I don’t think I like your tone, Jamison.”

Though she played the confident seductress, Rhee’s heart was thumping wildly. This was a new game and one thing was certain: Dax wasn’t going to submit for very long. Which was a good thing. They never seemed to have very long. It was one of those rare nights when Manali was home and Sirena was with her. Rhee and Dax had maybe an hour to themselves. Sometimes, an hour at home,
sans
kid, was better than an expensive meal and a night on the town. Plus, Rhee had the leverage to get Dax just where she wanted him.

“It’s hot in here. Maybe I should take something off.” Rhee was getting bolder in her sex play now, and she was enjoying it. Maybe a little too much.

She shrugged at the sheer material, baring her shoulder. Then, she lifted her leg to adjust her skirt, revealing her lack of panties to the helpless male in her bed. Something about seeing Dax Jamison, his washboard abs and his rippling physique, tied to her bed, made her core clench in equal parts fear and longing.

The low growl that ensued from his mouth—oh, that mouth—sent a bolt of searing heat between her legs. Rhee’s knees weakened but she held her ground. Slowly, she lifted her tentative eyes to meet the intense, scorching blue gaze that she knew awaited her.

“Enough playing around, darlin’.”

“I’m not done, Dax Jamison.”

Rhee leaned forward, letting her long hair graze the taut muscles that laced Dax’s stomach. The growl became a roar. Before Rhee knew what he was about, Dax ripped through the silken restraints that bound him. Then, she found herself beneath him, her skirt yanked up and her knees spread wide—all in a matter of seconds.

“No fair,” she complained.

His lips found her neck, and that sweet spot behind her ear. His breath ghosted over her sensitized skin, and she shivered in delight. “Told you baby, I play dirty.”

God, did he ever. Over the last three months, Dax had taken Rhee on a sexual roller coaster ride that left her inexperience in the dust. It seemed like the man was never sated. And luckily, even though she was sore more often than not, neither was she.

He nudged her with his cock, priming her. She was so wet she could actually hear it. And then, oh God, he was pushing inside, stretching her to capacity and then a little more.

Will it always be like this?
Feel like this…like he…owns me?

Dax was urgent, but he always took care to ensure that she was ready. Oh, so ready. She had to be to accommodate his size. Rhee blushed as she considered the fact that she constantly seemed to be in various states of arousal. Just the man’s scent was enough to soak her panties and fill her head with carnal thoughts—at the most inopportune of times.

As he seated himself deep inside her, Rhee’s eyes fluttered open to find Dax’s customary primal gaze locked on her own. She gasped as he withdrew completely, only to thrust back into her, hard. Her hips came up to meet him, urging him deeper, even as he bottomed out inside of her.

He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get close enough.

***

“Damn, darlin’.”

Her answer was an exhausted moan.

How the fuck could it get even better every time? Was it their deepening connection? The fact that she had birthed his child? Dax had no idea but one thing was certain—fucking Rhiannon Blake was like coming home.

Every. Single. Time.

“Hmm?”

It was cute—how she was always the one who couldn’t keep her eyes open after getting laid. He puffed up inside—-knowing that the earth-shattering orgasm that ripped through her body was his doing.

“Got some shit to do.”

“Um hmm.”

Dax smiled as he disengaged himself from the lure of the cozy bed and the warm body that nestled under the sheets. He stroked Rhee’s hair and administered a light slap to the lush curve of her backside before pulling on a pair of board shorts and a black tank. He liked his new, simple gear. Two items of clothing and some
Havianas
and he was good to go.

Why the fuck does anyone wear underwear?
Gotta be the single most pointless article of clothing ever designed.

He glanced at the closet, which housed his discarded motorcycle treads. And his cut. Okay, truth be told, Dax missed his cut. He missed the smell of the leather and the hum of his bike. He still rode here and there but he was putting more miles on his surfboard than he was on the cruiser he had out here.

“Babe…gonna be able to get Sirena? It’s late.”

Rhee didn’t move for a few seconds. Then, she let out a long sigh.

“Dammit, Jamison. How can you just do…well,
that
, and get up like nothing happened?”

“That good, huh?” He grinned.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” She sat up and tossed a pillow at him, revealing an expanse of golden skin decorated with sexy-ass tan lines and topped with luscious, pink nipples.

Dax hesitated, his eyes feasting on her nude form. He was receiving a very clear message from his cock—and he was going to be late to the speedboat party. “Darlin’, it’s already going to my head.”

Rhee’s eyes widened as she took stock of the bulge in his shorts.

“You are insatiable, Dax.”

“Only for you, darlin’.”

***

To Rhee’s surprise, Sirena slept a solid eleven hours—in her own bed. It was a rare occasion that Rhee was able to sleep in past the sunrise. She woke up slowly, every muscle and tendon in her body feeling loose and wonderful.

The not-too-distant sound of waves meeting the shore greeted her ears as she padded into the bathroom, all too aware of the light brush of air against her naked skin. It touched her like a caress, heightening her awareness of her body. Rhee caught herself in the mirror.

What is he doing to me?

Her lips looked swollen; her chin was slightly abraded from contact with the layer of light blond stubble on Dax’s face. Her eyes moved lower. Rhee found herself starting to squirm as her nipples pulled tight at the sight of the faint red marks on her neck. Slowly, she brought her hands up to cup her well-used flesh, hefting her own breasts in her hands, feeling her nipples pebble further. She dropped one hand between her legs to find herself wet as sin and sore as hell.

Holy shit, he’s turning me into a sex fiend!

Rhee stepped into the warm spray of the shower. The sensation of the heated droplets running down her skin just made things worse. Rhee blasted herself with a shot of cold water to quell her overactive libido.

I need to get a grip.

She forced herself to switch her focus from her throbbing nether regions to her expanding studio. The man in charge of the new grant—some up and coming congressman—wanted to meet today to discuss the transfer of funds. Yeah, it was a skirt and heels kind of day. Even though she hated fancy clothes, and especially loathed heeled shoes, the look on Dax’s face when he came home to find her dressed up would make it all worth it.

The politician, the one with some distant connection to the island, was making his large donation official this afternoon. There would be paperwork to sign and hands to shake,
blah blah blah
. Worth it, though. For sure.

Rhee winced as she dried off and grabbed her green wrap dress from the hanger. It was her favorite outfit. And, much like the rest of her clothing, once Dax saw her in it, the flimsy material didn’t stand a chance. She shivered as another throb of desire pulsed between her legs, making her squirm.

Something was off and she stood there for a moment, puzzling over herself in the mirror. Her nipples were so hard they poked through the sheer material of her dress. Already, the cotton panties she wore were dampening. If Dax were to return unexpectedly, he would find her wet, willing and waiting for him.

Jesus Christ.
What the hell is wrong with me?

The last time Rhee could remember being this horny, she was…