Taking a Dare - A Hellion MC Novel (11 page)

"I want some time," Dare finally announced. "I need
time to figure out what I want to do. Do I have time, Trey?"

Trey studied his boy, the brother that his parents
had taken in and knew that while he wasn't getting the whole truth,
he was getting a version of it. "Take all the time you need, amigo.
Both I and the club have your back no matter what you decide,
yeah?"

"Yeah. Got it. Thanks, brother." Grateful didn't even
begin to describe how Dare felt.

They shared a handshake that morphed into manly hug
concluding with a hard thump against one another's back.

But even as he shared the moment with his pres and
his foster-brother, Dare knew the war for Ryley had just begun.

Chapter Eleven

"Hope our dudes don't get used to all the good eats
these Honeys put out," Vegas whispered, her bleached platinum hair
covering my shoulder as she leaned into me. I could hear the soft
tinkling of her chandelier earrings that punctuated her words at
her head moves. "It ain't gonna happen back in Spokane, that's for
damn sure."

She wasn't kidding either. Back at our clubhouse, we
might put on a bar-b-que or have food maybe once or twice a month.
But the Missoulan Honeys were into cooking in a big way.

This morning we'd all congregated at Lock's place
where we were putting together a huge breakfast that included trays
and trays of something called a 'frittata'. Which I'd learned was
just a fancy name for some kind of egg casserole. While the rest of
us were elbow to elbow at the countertops and at the bar, Reese
stood at one end of Lock's huge dining room table and made her
biscuits.

I'd met her the night before and found her both funny
and warm although her hair was strange. Not so much the cut but the
little flares of cherry red that adorned the ends. Allegedly, she
made mouth-watering biscuits from just piles of flour, lard and egg
and I could see as she dragged her fingers into the mound of white
stuff piled before her that I was watching something that had been
passed down to her.

Because anyone else would've either fucking opened a
box of the pre-made stuff that you just added water and oil to or
simply opened the vacuum sealed canister of the prepared kind.
Maybe I was too lazy but my first reaction to seeing the effort
that went into the shit we were cooking was 'why bother'?

I turned to Cyn, one of the other ladies from my club
and snagged some more of the shredded potatoes to add to the grill
plate which was my responsibility for the moment. The hash browns,
as I called them, were going to be layered with the cheese Vegas
was shredding.

I glanced around the kitchen and took it's emotional
temperature. While only six of our fifteen Honeys had made the
trip, it seemed like we were all getting along. Maybe it was
because we had no queen, which made me (as a princess) the leader
of the ladies of our group. The mantle of responsibility was worn
by either the President's old lady or a princess since those were
the only two who were familiar with both the Hellions and the
Honeys rules and roles. But according to the unspoken politics
within the Hellions I still had to defer to Dallas even if she
didn't realize the power she possessed.

It was still all good. The only hiccup was gonna be
in entering the clubhouse. A place I knew
he'd
be. And after
our make-out al fresco session of the previous night, I damn-well
yearned to see him, needed to see him.

As we cooked, I'd kept an ear out on all the
different conversations going on around the room. Especially when
one of the Honeys brought up Dare's name, which had received more
than a few catcalls and whistles at just the mention.

And what I'd heard…shit, I still shudder from all I
was made privy to as he was described and named in Lock's kitchen
while we cooked. From his tats to his birthmark in the shape of
Argentina on the underside of the left cheek of his ass. Areas I
had yet to discover but ached to find for myself. The girls were
laughing as they compared their experiences: of his sexual
expertise and hunger for pussy, that he knew what a clit was and
more than knew how to work it for maximum enjoyment, of the
different positions he employed and the dirty talk he whispered as
he took them.

None of which I could agree or disagree with, dammit!
Their knowledge of him and how he was in bed hurt within the deep
recesses of me.

They all called him a stud, citing that if Dare chose
a girl or even a pair of them, how she'd be guaran-damn-teed a
wonderful time between the sheets even if she had to share.

But not to expect anything afterwards.

Not even a cuddle.

No flowery language and, according to most of the
Honeys, not so much as a thank you for the shared experience.

"He patted me on the ass once," one of the girls, I
think her name was Tight, admitted with a sly smile. "We was
leaving the room and he actually said goodbye and bounced his hand
on my butt. Twice. I counted."

"You ever notice he never fucks the same Honey two
nights in a row? It's like we're on fucking rotation or something."
I glanced over at the girl who'd spoken, Carmi I think her name
was, who was frowning into the huge bowl of fruit salad.

Dee, who was frying up sausages on a large electric
griddle at the bar, spoke up. "He's got issues. Doesn't seem to
want or need to be connected to anybody but the brothers. Though, I
heard there had been a girl he'd jonesed on when he was younger.
Who broke his heart and screwed up his head. But it may have been
just a rumor or some crap."

I blinked hard at her words and felt my stomach
clench. Since I knew he'd never had a girlfriend before me, I could
only figure the reason he never wrote back was because he'd found
someone else. Something I'd considered but now couldn't deny after
Dee's words.

I put all the info I'd heard and shoved it on my
internal scale of 'do I or don't I go the next step with him?'

If these Honeys were right, Dare was too closed off
for me to consider getting with long term. I knew I needed more
when I gave it up to a guy. Maybe not all the romantic shit, but
damn-well more than what the girls had said Dare gave them!

I compared the hard-fucking man they described to the
sensual, sweet boy-man my heart remembered. A man who didn't want
or need the softness and care a woman could bring to the guy but
who'd seemed to crave it when he was young. I couldn't envision,
couldn't even
imagine,
them as being one and the same
person.

And to compare either one to the man I'd almost
succumbed to the night before? It was mind boggling and I just
wasn't up for it.

Shit! There was no way
my
Dare, not the Dare
of my heart, behaved like that.

I knew how a club's rumor mill worked and knew that
the girls had more than likely added their own pieces to the
stories they'd told. It was a damn given that everybody fudged when
they told a good tale but only to make their story even better in
the retelling. More interesting if even in their own eyes.

But the Honey's stories were all very similar and the
descriptions very much the same. So similar, I couldn't deny the
kernels of truth in them.

Still, he was a low down, dirty bastard for basically
using the Honeys instead of his hand if that was the way he treated
them.

Even if his amazing outsides didn't show it.

Even if he'd never once treated me like that.

I'd spied him from my place in the line of Honeys as
we'd carried in the food, bracketing the pans into the holders that
were set up. Following Dee's lead, I took the step and a half back
to lean against the back of the bar after setting my tray of food
in its holder. The hard wood digging into my tailbone provided a
much needed distraction from my contemplations.

Thoughts that told me that in spite of what I'd
heard, my scales were definitely on one setting.

I still wanted to be with him.

And was more than willing to have him if for no other
reason than to complete our story and have the memory of him—all of
him—with me the rest of my days.

I'd just have to keep reminding myself that temporary
was all it could ever be, all that I could hope to have with a man
called Dare.

*.*.*.*.*

From her glossy brown hair to the heeled boots she
was sporting, Dare couldn't imagine a more beautiful woman. It
wasn't just the way she was dressed, showing more class than all of
the Honeys combined. No, it was the sum of her…of
all
of her
that had him dazzled.

And when she smiled at the girl next to her, he was
gone.

Fuckin' lost in that bright smile.

God fucking damn! He wanted to drag her off to the
nearest available room around the back and continue on with the
previous night's play . And
this
time to do it even better,
longer and with more of the adult doings.

Although what they'd shared the night before had
been, he admitted, fuckin' perfect.

On every fuckin' level.

Well, except one. The one where she hadn't gone home
with him to share his bed.

He felt a deep spasm at the thought, the mental image
of sinking himself within what he knew, already fuckin'
knew
, were her sweet, hot and tight depths. To listen to her
whimper and mewl as he built it, worked her until she'd be
screaming his goddamn name when she fuckin' hit it hard. And then
to hold her and caress her as they both found their breath. To talk
and laugh together as they got to know each other again and
discover the grown-up version of the couple they'd been so long
ago. To discover if the connection was as real and true as he
suspected.

What the hell?

Where was all this emo shit coming from?

He'd already determined years ago that their
attachment had just been a case of raging hormones. Just a short,
steamy interlude between a couple of horny teens. And that the only
reason he'd been devastated when she'd ridden away was due to all
the goddamn time he'd invested in getting to know her, his
awareness of her innocence and the fact he hadn't nailed her good
and proper.

Because there was no way the girl could've been as
fuckin' perfect as his seventeen year old heart had said she was.
No fuckin' way in hell. But whether she had been or not, it was
hard denying she seemed to be. And it was even harder admitting
Ryley had been his first love.

A feeling and a word he'd never allowed himself to
think or even say with anyone else.

Ever.

He chanced a glance at her again and felt his
heartbeat increase.

Shit!

Christ! This had never happened. Had never gone on
before. Dare was a man that was known for hitting and quitting when
it came to getting his. Who gave a speech to each and every girl he
ever allowed to ride his cock about keeping their emotions out of
it.

Fuck! Was that what January had been complaining
about? That she'd wanted a shot at his fuckin' heart?

He ran a hand over his face, using a thumb and
forefinger to trail down his mustache as he tried to make sense of
what was stirred up inside him.

Dee stood at the head of the line and called out,
"come and get it, boys!" and Dare lined up with the rest in order
to fill his plate with all the goodness the Honeys had made. Damn!
It was a veritable feast with the frittata, sausages, bacon and
cheesy hash browns. Not to mention, Reese's kick-ass biscuits. Dare
could've made a fuckin' meal out of them alone.

He made a point of thanking each woman who stood
behind the bar, trying and failing to keep his voice even as he
acknowledged the woman who was giving him mental fits. He would've
done better but it was the light, steady heated regard in her aqua
eyes that caused him to stumble over the two syllables of her
name.

When he did and then saw the grin with the eyebrow
lift from her at his stutter, he'd felt a blush hit his face.

Oh
fuck
to the no!

Drunk, hung-over or motherfuckin' sober, no woman got
the better of him!

Determine to shrug off all the shit whirling inside,
Dare shot her a one-sided grin in return which wiped that
challenging look right off her. But damn-well increased the
activity of the eye-fuck they had going. Eliciting another throb in
his dick.

Shit!

Breaking their stare, he bent his head to the food on
display and began to fill his plate as he stepped down the length
of the bar.

He glanced back at her as he'd moved by and saw her
amazing eyes flare as she slowly licked her lips while she leaned
against the back cabinet, her hands behind her succulent ass,
pushing her full luscious chest towards him. It was an unmistakable
invitation that he couldn't label as anything else.

Which sent his heart and cock into overdrive.

Goddamn!

How fuckin'
dare
she?

Didn't she realize she was playing with fire?

Fuckin' little vixen.

His body almost goddamn demanded he grab her by her
neck and press her tight, hard belly into the bar while ripping her
leathers down to fuck her silly as he held her by her hair. Both as
a punishment and a reward for teasing him like that and the tease
of not being able to complete the deed they'd started on the picnic
table.

He glanced down at his plate and saw he'd added three
scoops of some kind of chopped fruit shit on top of the heaps of
food he'd already placed there. And he hated fuckin' fruit!

Christ!

This was, he knew,
beyond
bad and couldn't be
blamed on some emotional shit left over from his youth. And
combined with Trey's words on how Gus wanted his motherfuckin' cut?
It was just all sorts of terrible and had him considering just
fuckin' leaving, damn-well climbing aboard his hog to just get
gone.