Rake's Redemption (Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club) (15 page)

“Seriously?” I growl, much to Vinnie’s amusement.

Rake climbs down the ladder then and turns, lifting his chin when he sees Vinnie and me. From his face, I look farther down to his smooth chest, his cut abs, and then to the V that leads into his pants.

“Fuck,” I whisper as I notice I can actually see the outline of his penis in the track pants.

Even Vinnie looks away, saying grumpily, “More than I want to see of you, bro.”

“Okay, show’s over,” I say loudly, throwing evil looks at the groupies Rake has attracted. I walk up to the man himself and poke at his chest.

“Seriously?” I hiss.

“What?” he asks. “I did everything on the list.”

I point to the women who were slowly making their way off my grass. I’m sure snails move faster. “Did you not see them watching you and salivating?”

The bastard shrugs. “They’re harmless. Their husbands probably have beer guts and male-pattern baldness.”

My nostrils flare. “Get inside.”

“Why?” he asks, smirking and running his hand down his jaw. “You don’t like them seeing me?”

“Rake,” I say in a deathly quiet voice. “Get inside.”

“Only if you give me a kiss,” he presses, licking his lips.

Is he serious right now? “How about if you don’t go inside, I go inside and kiss the shit out of Vinnie?”

Green eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”

I look behind him.

The women were still there, whispering among themselves.

“Please?” I ask, using a softer approach.

He kisses the top of my head, then walks inside, pulling me behind him.

I can’t help it.

I stare at his ass the whole way.

Fuck!

*   *   *

“Dude, you and Rake can’t stop staring at each other,” Tia says so only I can hear, glancing around the kitchen.

I am currently having bigger problems than the building sexual tension between Rake and me. “How fucking hard can it be to make lasagna from scratch?”

I am on my second batch. The top was burned on this one. Vinnie is going to be here in an hour or two and I want his meal ready and waiting.

“Did you do the béchamel sauce?” Tia asks, looking down at the lasagna and scrunching her nose.

I still. “The what sauce? The recipe didn’t say anything about a sauce. What the hell is it?”

Tia giggles and starts opening the cupboard. “I’ll make the sauce. You get everything ready for the third and final batch.”

We finish the meal just in time for Vinnie, Tracker, and Lana to arrive.

“Something smells good,” Tracker says, heading straight for the kitchen.

Lana rolls her eyes, then hugs me. “How have you been, honey?”

She glances at Rake and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Fine,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “Dinner is ready. Where’s Anna?”

“Arrow has taken her away for a few days,” she says, smiling. “Romantic getaway.”

“As if Arrow knows romance.” Tracker smirks, grabbing a plate and serving himself. “He’ll probably just take her camping and fuck her in the dirt.”

Rake slaps him on the back of the head. “My sister, asshole.”

Vinnie grabs a plate, then looks at me when he sees what’s on the menu, shaking his head and smiling wide. “You’re so fuckin’ cute right now, Bailey, you know that?”

“What . . . the fuck . . .” Rake growls, his whole body tensing, “did you just say?”

Everyone in the room stops what they’re doing and looks at Rake, a tense silence taking over the easy atmosphere of a few moments ago.

Tracker stops piling food on his plate and looks between the two men. I step between them and put my hand on Rake’s chest. He doesn’t even acknowledge me, gaze still firmly locked on Vinnie in challenge.

“Relax, Rake,” Vinnie says in a calm yet firm tone.

“I wanted to say thanks to him for going around with me while I did my errands the other day, so I made him his favorite meal.”

His body relaxes a little under my palm. “Right, okay.”

Everyone in the room breathes easier; I can actually feel the tension in the air clear up.

“Love the man, love the club,” I hear Tracker mutter, making Rake lift his head and look at me, emotions playing on his face. I look away, not knowing how to react to the intensity coming from him.

Cara and Rhett walk into the kitchen with Tia soon after, Cara coming to sit in between me and Rake.

“Did you finish watching the movie?” I ask her, giving her round cheek a kiss.

“Yes.” She grins, then turns to look at Rake. “Adam said I remind him of Belle.”

I look over Cara’s head at Rake. She and Rhett were watching
Beauty and the Beast
, because it was Cara’s turn to choose a movie. They’re slowly getting through every Disney movie ever created.

“That was nice of him,” I murmur, not looking away from him.

“I think she looks like Belle too,” Rhett throws in, picking up his fork.

Tia and I share a glance. Rhett is going to be the biggest ladies’ man this town has ever seen with those smooth lines. I can’t help but laugh when Rake bumps fists with him over the comment, obviously thinking they were on the same page.

Vinnie takes a few bites, then looks up from his plate. “It’s fu—” He glances at Cara, then starts again, “It’s really good, Bailey.”

“Tia helped,” I admit, shrugging a little sheepishly. “But I’m glad you like it.”

We finish dinner, chatting easily among us. As I look around
the table at everyone laughing, smiling, and teasing one another, I realize just how lucky Rake really is, how amazing his family is, and he’s now sharing that with me.

I glance over at him to see him already watching me.

Something passes between us. A moment of understanding. A moment of thankfulness.

He smiles then.

And so do I.

One week later

I
DON’T
think it’s too much to ask for you to wear a shirt when you’re walking around the house,” I say with my hands on my hips.

Like seriously, there is only so much I can take.

“No one’s even here, what’s the fuckin’ problem?” he asks, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

“I’m here,” I point out.

He closes the fridge and steps closer to me, cornering me against the countertop. “What’s the problem, Bailey?”

I swallow. “N-nothing is the problem. You don’t see me walking around half-naked. It’s common courtesy!”

He opens the bottle and takes a sip. All I can do is stare at his throat, his ripped arms, and his chest as I wait for him to continue.

“It’s not like I’m walking around without any pants on,” he says after he swallows a mouthful and puts the lid back on.

No, he’s wearing pants.

Jeans, in fact.

Jeans that should be freaking illegal.

Low on his hips, the top button undone.

“Rake, I . . .”

He lowers his head. “Bailey, what’s the real problem here? Are you as turned on as I am? Because I’ve been walking around hard ever since I fuckin’ saw you again, so if I have to suffer, then so do you.”

“Wait . . . what?” I groan. “Pretty sure we had a silent rule not to bring shit like that up around each other.”

Rake exhales, then moves close enough to bury his face in my hair. “Fuck, Bailey. Do you think it’s easy for me to see you after everything we had and not be able to touch you? I want to fuck you, punish you, and worship you at the same time. I want to make you hurt; I want to take away your pain. I want you to feel what I felt when I lost you, and I want to save you, all at the same time.”

“Do you think I wasn’t hurting, too?” I breathe, looking deep into the depths of his green gaze. “You destroyed me. You broke me.”

“You’re the one who cheated, Bailey,” he grits out, voice hoarse. “I would have stayed faithful to you until the day I died.”

I shouldn’t take his words; I should call him out on the truth right now, but I don’t. Maybe it makes me a coward, I don’t know, but I do know that when everything comes out, it’s going to be worse than it is now. Rake will go from hating me to hating himself, and maybe I’m a sucker, maybe I love him more than I love myself, because I think I’d prefer that he hated me. Does that make me weak? Or strong? I don’t know. He needs to know the truth, I know. There is no right time or right way to say this though, but it does need to be said. It’s long overdue.

“So would have I,” I say with such bitterness that he tilts his head and searches my eyes. “I thought we said we wouldn’t touch the past.”

His abs touch my stomach. His lips move close to mine but not touching.

His eyes still search.

I don’t know what they’re looking for, or whether he will find it.

He closes the space between us, his lips pressing over mine. I want him to kiss me deeply, like he used to, but he doesn’t, and I know it’s because he’s waiting for my permission. I give it to him by sucking on his lower lip. After that, all bets are off.

He picks me up and sits me on the counter, while his tongue slips inside my mouth. He kisses me like I’ve
never
been kissed before, filled with such intensity and passion, but it’s almost as if I can still taste that hint of regret and bitterness.

I ignore it.

Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.

I feel him; I taste him; I
remember
him.

My right hand slides down his back, feeling the muscles there. I stop just above his ass but then let my fingers roam over that too, squeezing his tight globes. Rake starts to kiss down my jawline and then my neck. When he hits that spot, I’m ready to beg him to fuck me right here, right now. But I don’t. Because I don’t know how I will feel about it afterward.

“Rake,” I whisper.

“Wait,” he murmurs, continuing to kiss across my collarbone.

I close my eyes, feeling not thinking, and when he pulls down my bra and sucks one nipple into his mouth, then the
other, I don’t stop him. No, instead, I thread my fingers through his hair and bring him closer, urging him on.

He slides his hands up my thighs, lifting my dress with it, then slides a finger inside my panties.

“So wet,” he groans, biting gently on my nipple before moving back.

When he leans me flat against the counter, spreads my thighs and rips my panties off in a succession of quick movements, I’m torn between pleasure and pain.

The pleasure my body wants and the pain my heart is going to have to handle afterward.

He kisses up my thighs.

“Rake,” I say breathily.

He pulls back and looks at me. “Don’t make me stop, Bailey. Fuck. We need to get each other out of our systems, otherwise the tension is going to drive us fuckin’ insane. I’ll make you feel so good, you have no idea.”

His words are like a bucket of ice water being tipped on my head.

“ ‘Get each other out of our systems’? Like what, a one-night stand? Fuck each other and then pretend it never happened?” I ask, my jaw getting tight. I close my legs and shove my dress down, then fix my bra, covering my breasts from his view.

He looks away. “What do you expect from me, Bailey?”

“More respect than that,” I snap, placing both of my hands on his chest and pushing. “Move.”

“Bailey—”

“I said move,” I say between clenched teeth. “Now.”

He moves.

I jump down from the countertop and walk to my room.

I stop in my tracks when I hear him say, “You fuckin’ broke my heart once, if you think I’ll give you that power again, you’re getting your hopes up.”

He has no idea.

No fucking idea.

And here I am, trying to protect him from the truth.

Why?

Why am I putting him before myself?

Why am I protecting a man who has no trouble throwing what he thinks I did in my face over and over again?

I spin around and stalk back toward him. “You know what? Let’s get this all out in the open.”

“Let’s,” he says, looking down on me. “We had a fight, like we always did. You went to some fuckin’ party to get back at me and fucked the first guy who looked your way, didn’t you?”

At this point, I’m seeing red.

I’m fucking seething.

No, I’m
bleeding
.

Can’t he see the blood practically dripping from every ounce of my being?

I’m transported back to that night seven years ago. The night that changed everything.

I shake my hips, letting the ruffles from my skirt swivel around me. Christa hands me another drink.

“This is my last one,” I tell her over the music. I need to get back to Adam, because I know he’s probably searching for me right now. In an act of rebellion after Adam and I had a fight, I decided to take up Christa’s offer on coming to this party, but I didn’t intend to stay long. I didn’t like going anywhere without Adam, to be honest; no matter how needy that made me sound, it was the truth. Not only
did he make me feel safe, but he’s also my best friend. How many girls are lucky enough to say the same?

“You never do anything fun.” Christa pouts. “It’s like you’re a married woman.”

My lips tighten. She doesn’t know me well enough to make that evaluation, but I also didn’t like this bitch judging me. We weren’t good friends or anything, more like acquaintances.