FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (34 page)

Emmy

"Are all Philly girls as beautiful as you?"

I turned my head sharply.  The Storm Rider was already drunk, leaning against the wall sloppily and leering at my chest.  It appeared my hiding place had been found.

"Hi," I ventured, sidestepping his hand quickly as he clumsily reached for me.  I made for the door of the bunkhouse, steeling myself before stepping into the fray.

I needed to find J. The leering looks of the bikers had me jumpy and nervous, ready to startle out of my skin at every turn.

I hadn't felt that way this afternoon. This afternoon had been like a dream come true.  Relaxing, working together, talking comfortably to Mallory, trading insults with Case, laughing at Crash's antics, listening to Teach talk philosophy and art, all of it, every moment had been part of the slow flower blooming in my chest.  And all the while I had been watching J. as he confidently strode around the clubhouse in his element, directing preparations, jumping in to help when he was needed and anticipating what needed to be done beforehand. 

He had told me the duty of the Road Captain was to fix things.  And he was gifted at knowing what needed to be done.  The more I saw him work, the more I believed he was exactly what I needed to fix me.

But now I couldn't find him anywhere.  The clubhouse was overrun with the loud, aggressive partying of the Storm Riders.  Case was watching the mayhem critically from a corner, a dark scowl masking the handsomeness of his face.  Crash was draped across the laps of two drunken college girls here for a night of rebellion. 

Mac and Doctor D. had disappeared into the lot, supervising the set-up of target practice.  I cringed at the occasional bang, hoping the gunshots were all in good fun.

I stepped up onto a pile of boxes, searching for J.  It wasn't hard to find him.  His close-cropped dark head stood out like a beacon to me amidst the greasy light-haired sea.

"J.!" I called out over the shouts and insults of the party.

He didn't hear me.  I sucked in my breath and plunged into the crowd. The shouts of the bikers filled my ears
.  "Hey sweetheart, come have a drink!" "Are you tonight's entertainment?" "I just want to say hi, don't be like that!"

When I finally reached J. my heart was pounding nearly out of my chest.  "Hi," I said to him, struggling to keep the note of panic out of my voice."

"Hey there Em."  He slung his arm over my shoulder and I instantly felt better.  The jumpy nervousness dissipated and I lifted my chin. Seeking his lips, I sighed with relief when they found mine. "Are you having any fun at all?" he murmured in my ear.

"A little," I lied.

He nodded.  I snaked my hand into his back pocket, getting as close to him as I could.  But his touch wasn't comforting.  He felt just as jumpy and on edge as I had been.  His shoulders were up around his ears and he kept flexing and balling his fists. 

"Are you having any fun?" I asked him.

Before he could reply, I felt a solid weight smash into my back. I cried out in surprise as I fell forward.  The floor rushed up to meet me and I cringed, waiting for the impact. 

"What the fuck!" J. grabbed me just as I was about to hit the floor, yanking me away from the huge Storm Rider before I was crushed beneath him.  "Watch where you're going, dipshit!"

"Who're you callin' dipshit?" the big man snarled, stumblingly quickly to his feet.

"You, asshole." J. stepped up to him, pushing me behind him protectively.

"J.," I squeaked. "Don't..."

"Apologize to my girl, asshole," J. snarled. 

The tiniest flutter of excitement awoke in my belly. 
He called me his girl.

The Storm Rider looked over J.'s shoulder to where I hid.  "She's your girl?” he drawled.  "How the fuck do you figure?"

The room was suddenly silent.  "Wayne!" Desmond called across the clubhouse. 

"I ain't doin' nothin'" Wayne protested.  "I just asked a question, that's all."

"What's your question?" J. asked sharply.

"I asked you how the fuck you figure she's your girl?"

"Case, get Emmy back," J. called, his eyes locked on Wayne. 

I felt a tug on my arm.  "Emmy, back up," Case pulled me to him.

"J.!" I called.  "Stop it!"

But the J. I knew was gone, replaced with a seething mass of murderous rage.  "And what do you mean by that?" he snarled at Wayne.  His fists were balled tight and his knuckles were bone-white.

"You deaf,
boy?
" I heard a few ominous chuckles at the word. 

"You had best not be callin' me
boy,
" J. spat.  The crowd of Storm Riders pressed closer, obscuring my view.  He was outnumbered, a lone Black face in a sea of snarling white.  I yanked my arm away from Case.

"J.! I want to get out of here! Right now!"

"Enough!" came the roar from Teach, louder than anything I had ever heard from his mouth.  The small older man waded into the fray, pushing and shoving his way to J. "Desmond, get your man in line!"

"Wayne!" the Storm Rider barked.  "Back down you fucking idiot.  We're guests!"

But Wayne wasn't about to back down.  I saw a glint of light and screamed before I knew what I was seeing.  "J., duck!"

The knife cut a gleaming arc through the air, missing J.'s cheek by inches.  J. flung himself backwards, nimbly ducking under Wayne's arm.  He stepped to the side as the big man was still off-center and landed a punch right in his ribs.  I heard a hollow thwacking sound as J.'s fist connected with Wayne's side. A wild light gleamed in J.'s eye and his mouth twisted into a hollow imitation of a smile.  He whirled back in front of Wayne, still doubled over in pain, and landed a sickening punch to his face.  Blood exploded from Wayne's mouth, spraying the onlookers in a fine red mist. 

"Ha!!" J. shrieked, winding up his third blow.

Teach tackled him from the side.  "Case!" he roared, wrestling J. to the ground.  Case let go of my arm and shoved his way to the center of the circle.  "Get him out of here!" Then he turned to me.  "Emmy!"

I froze as the eyes of the Storm Riders landed on me.  Wayne was bent double, gasping and spitting blood on the concrete floor. 

"Emmy, help him! Get him back!" Teach bellowed.

The wild animal fear still shone in J.'s eyes as they dragged him from the fight.  His eyes locked on mine, but there was no recognition in them. Nothing but animal instinct.  I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could.

I flung my arms around his shoulders and pulled him down to kiss me.

The instant his lips met mine, his eyes went wide.  "Em," he whispered, but it was more like a moan.  Frantically I clung to him, holding him close, holding him back. As long as he was kissing me, he and I were both safe.  His heartbeat slowed under my palm until it was as strong and true as my need for him. 

"Let's go," I pleaded with him.  "I want go away."

Dazed, he nodded and took my hand.  I led him from the garage, towards the line of bikes against the wall.  He went to the furthest one and kicked it to life, the engine roaring as he revved it. Sliding onto the bike, I snaked my hands around his waist, holding on tightly as we surged forward.

As we roared away from the crowded clubhouse, I couldn't help but turn back to the line of bikers watching us leave.  "I
am
his girl!" I shrieked into the wind.

J.

As long as the city faded over the horizon behind them.  As long as he kept moving.  As long as the wind rushed past his ears, drowning out the thoughts.  As long as Emmy's arms were around him, her breasts pressed into his back, her head leaned against his shoulder as she held him tightly.  As long as he wove through traffic, faster and faster, speed gathering between his thighs as the roar of heavy metal carried them away from everything. 

As long as he kept moving he would be okay.

Ten,
he inhaled deeply, concentrating on the traffic ahead.
Nine, eight, seven,
Emmy shifted a little in the seat, pulling herself closer. 
Six, five, four,
he exhaled through his teeth, feeling the breath leave his lungs.
Three, two, one.

He pulled off the highway, circling the exit loop.  He could feel Emmy looking around.  Her white-blond hair whipped in his face as she clutched him.  The red rage that had blinded him was finally loosening its hold. 

He was looking around to figure out where they were, when Emmy called in his ear.  "Where are we?"

He took in the countryside, the rushing river to their right, the quaint houses they had passed.  "Up somewhere near New Hope," he replied over the roar of the engine.

Now that he was out of the city, he didn't know what to do next.  Every time he had come up here, it had only been for rides. 

Emmy squeezed him tighter.  "Turn left," she called.

A small smile twisted the corner of J.'s mouth.  "Yes ma'am," he called over his shoulder.  Merging back onto the quiet country road, he took the turn ahead a half a mile.  "Now where?" he shouted.

"Ahead on the right.  About two miles, I think.  I'll let you know."

It wasn't until he saw the sign that J. smiled fully.  "A bed and breakfast?  You're taking me to a bed and breakfast?"

"You took me," she called back as they pulled up to the white stone building.

The stately old white building stood on top of a low hill, a graceful, sweeping lawn spread out in front like an emerald green welcome mat.  Emmy jumped from her perch behind him, wobbling slightly from the vibrations before recovering quickly.  "Come on."

He shook his head. "I don't have any money."

She waggled her purse at him.  "I do." 

She smiled so widely, so eagerly, that he swallowed his pride and followed her into the overly-fussy main floor.  Emmy bustled ahead of him, full of purpose, calling for the owner while he hung back.  He tried to push down the annoyance that flickered to life. 
What was she doing?  What was she up to?
  He felt exposed, his black skin and black leathers forever marking him as an outsider.

They hadn't ridden far enough or fast enough for him to outrun the anger over what had just happened.  His safe place, his home, it had been violated, and what was worse was that his mentor, the man he looked up to more than his own father, had invited that violation to their front door. 

The red threatened to cloud his sight.  He balled his fists and counted to ten, but nothing could slow the pounding of his heart. 

Until he focused on Emmy. 

She was swinging her blonde hair, laughing with her raspberry lips stretched wide in an eager smile.  She shot a look over her shoulder and gave him a thumbs up.  "They had a cancellation!" she called back to him.  "We're lucky!"

Unsure of what to do with his hands, he jammed them in the pockets of his jeans.  She made him feel like an awkward teenager.  His heart started racing for a different reason as his eyes wandered hungrily along her soft curves.

She finished signing them in and walked to him, jingling the room keys in triumph.  "The Treasure Room.  I have no idea what that means, but it's ours!"  She hopped slightly, her eyes alight, and took his hand.  "It's upstairs," she informed him, leading the way through the knick-knack stuffed hallway and up the pinewood stairs.

He resisted the urge to grab her as they ascended the staircase.

But when they reached the doorway he could resist no longer. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he pressed himself hungrily against her as she fiddled with the key. 

"You saved me back there," he rasped, slipping his hands underneath her shirt to caress the soft skin of her belly.  "I owe you."

She leaned back into him, lifting her arms to pull his head down to her level.  "
You
saved
me
," she murmured into his ear and the puff of warm breath against his lobe sent a shiver straight down to his core.  His need rose with frantic urgency and he slammed the door open in haste.

He walked her into the room, not letting her go, pushing her closer and closer to the four poster bed that dominated the small, antique strewn bedroom.  "I heard you tell them you were my girl," he continued.  They bumped into the bed and he turned her to face him.

"Am I?" Her eyes were alight with a different kind of excitement.

He pushed her lightly backwards and she landed on the bed with her arms flung out.  Her blonde hair pooled in a halo around her head.  He had never seen anything so beautiful. 

"Yeah," he choked.  "You're my girl." 

Emmy

His lips crashed into mine, robbing me of my breath and my ability to speak.  Then just as quickly he pulled back up to stand above me.  I watched him watch me, devouring me with his eyes.  The wonder and desire in them was something I had never seen before.

He reached for the waistband of my jeans.  In two tugs he had them down over my hips.  I lifted them obligingly, though my breath caught in my throat.  I waited for him to strip down and take me.

Instead he knelt at the side of the bed and pulled me closer.  "Wait," I gasped as I felt his breath on my thigh. 

He looked up expectantly, but he didn't move away.  My heart thudded in my ears and I felt flames against my cheeks.  "I'm not, I'm not used to that."

His lopsided grin nearly knocked me backwards.  "Then baby girl, you're gonna have to get used to it."

I sucked in my breath as he shimmied my panties down.  I squeezed my eyes shut, unwilling to see him kneel down there; his head nestled between my thighs.  I felt him there instead as he traced a line of kisses up the path of my inner thigh, closer and closer.  I gripped the sheets, frozen in place.

Then I felt his cool breath as it met the moist heat of my center. I bit my lip, expecting the pain to flare to life.  But he seemed to know my exact limit.  I gasped when his tongue parted my folds, finding that place, tasting me tentatively.  Each little lick melted me further. He moved slowly, at first, letting me relax into a rhythm.  I,felt the answering downward rush as his tongue coaxed small cries from my lips.  Boldly, I put my hands on his head, telling him exactly where to stay.  He grinned up at me from between my legs, his dimple shining wetly. 

"That's it," he smiled. 

"Come up here," I begged, cupping his face. 

He dove for me with a wicked grin that made me laugh until his lips covered mine.  When I tasted myself on his tongue, my cheeks flamed in embarrassment, but the flame in my belly snuffed it out.  I snaked my hand up his chest, tugging at his shirt.  He ripped it off and my lips tasted the smoothness of his skin.  His fingers found the clasp of my bra.  Yanking my shirt over my head, I allowed him to fling it away, exposing my pink nipples to his waiting mouth.  When his tongue curled around the tender peak, I moaned long and low. 

"I want you," I grimaced, squirming as his tongue sent hot sparks down my spine. 

He exhaled forcefully.  "Fuck, I've wanted you since I saw you in that bar," he groaned. 

His fingers found my sensitive folds again and began dancing skillfully.  I arched to meet him, forgetting myself as my hand closed around the hardened bulge of his need. 

"When I didn't think I could have you..." his lips trailed down the center of my belly, each touch searing my flesh anew. "Fuck," he finished, unable to speak anymore once his tongue found my center.   

I cried out again, yearning and desperate, but his tongue showed me no mercy.  My hands sought and found that bulge again.  Somehow my clumsy fingers were able to free the object of my desire and began to move up and down the length of him.  His breath hitched and he lost the rhythm of his tongue. I grinned at my power.  He pressed his hips forward, moving in my hand, and I shimmied myself forward.

He stood up and I lifted my hips to meet his, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him inside of me.  He slid in almost by accident, and I gasped at the sudden fullness. 

He pulled back. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern creasing his brow.

My heart sang.  I lifted myself to meet his lips, smelling myself on him. 

"Don't stop," I whispered.  He growled in return, thrusting deep inside of me, and our bodies began to move as one. With each thrust, he kissed me again and again, his hands everywhere at once. 

"J.!" I cried, burying my face into his neck and clutching him to me.  His hard, muscled chest crushed me beneath its weight, choking the cries of ecstasy his skillful hips elicited.  The escalating pressure suddenly broke free and I shook like a leaf from the uncontrollable spasms of my very first orgasm. The shock sent my eyes flying open in surprise and I burst out laughing in relief and delight.

He paused to look at me beneath him, his brow furrowed as peals of laughter shook from me even as tears gathered in my eyes.  "Emmy?"

How could I explain?  How could I tell him that this was the first time this was good?  How could I make him understand how much his he had fixed with only his touch and attention?  What would make him understand the significance of what he had just done?

Speak your truth,
his voice inside my head spoke clearly.  So I did.  "I've never done that before.  From sex."  I lifted my lips to his, "You're the first time this has been good for me."

My words seem to light a spark behind his eyes. 

"It can be even better," he growled.  He snaked his hands under me and rolled over on the bed so that I was on top of him.  I looked down at my soft body above his hardened physique, my white skin against his dark, and for once in my life I only saw beauty. 

He saw it too.  He closed his huge hands around my breasts, then smoothed them down the curve of my waist to rest on my hips. "Move for me, baby girl," he panted.

It was a new sensation to be in control.  I swirled my hips above him, feeling him everywhere inside of me.  Rocking forward, I felt the delicious pressure against my nub.  I wanted more. 

"That's it," he hissed, moving beneath me.  I closed my eyes, blind to anything but the building sensations that swirled around and around my body.  He surged upward, wrapping me in his arms and pulling me down to him.  "That's it," he moaned in my ear.  I screamed as I broke open again, his breath on my earlobe sending me back over the edge, a gentler ride this time. I clung to him, holding him close to me, savoring the merging of our bodies.

I could feel the twitching of his thigh muscles.  "Emmy, I'm going to..." he warned, but I held him in place. 

"Go," I whispered, not caring about anything else but the pleasure on his face.  He bent his head to my neck, burying his face into my hair, and groaned out his release, a low sound in my ear that vibrated my whole body like a plucked guitar string.

I don't know how long we lay there.  It was at least as long as it took for our breath to slow and steady and sync up.  His heart beat against my chest, slowing and slowing into a strong, steady beat that matched my own.  He rolled me the side and we lay there looking at the ceiling, not saying a word.

"J.?" I rolled over to him and looked at him.  I had never seen his face so relaxed before.  It was like seeing him for the first time.  I turned my face upward and looked at his cheek.  His beard was coming in, the dark hairs gleaming in the shaft of angled light from the window.  The sun was setting on this day.

"Emmy," he breathed, and for him it wasn't a question.  He closed his eyes, his mouth twitching. 

"Hold me J.?" I asked him.  "Come under the covers and hold your girl."

When I settled against his chest, his breath was already coming smooth and regular as I adjusted the blankets.  I traced the swirls and spirals of the stubble along his jaw as my man slowly fell asleep.