The Don's Baby: A Bad Boy Romance (28 page)

CHAPTER TWO

He decided to walk around—just a little bit—before he left to satisfy his curiosity about the home base of the Reapers. He wouldn’t say he was casing the place, but he liked to know the layout of wherever he was …however infrequently he visited. The building looked like a warehouse from the outside, but it was decked out on the inside. It was basically a cinderblock fortress that would be hard to get into or out of, and it would take gunfire well. Pretty slick trick. Rafael loved things that could be used for more than one thing, and this combination of fortress, housing unit, and business was impressive. Not that he would ever share that information with them.

The party was a festive one, and there were wagers going and shit talking everywhere. He’d yet to find anyone who looked like they were going to ask any questions. He walked around and was out before anyone thought to question who he was.

He saw Emma standing at the bottom of the front steps, and she must have retrieved her purse because he didn’t see anything else that was different beside the small pink bag with the long strap that went across her chest.

She turned to look at him as he came down the stairs. “Are you going to take your mask off?”

“Eventually,” he answered, as she looked into his eyes as if she knew who he was. She went out to where he parked his motorcycle and turned, as if she wanted him to follow her. For some reason, he was filled with accomplishment, and he felt as if he had completed a grand heist. He almost turned around to see if anyone noticed but figured he would find out if someone approached them. Taking this woman out from under the noses of his most hated rivals was the sweetest shot of excitement, and it ran through him like a hot rush.

“Alright, but I’d like to see your face before we get on your bike,” she said, as she walked toward the road. She was still leading the way when he spun her around and eased her back against the wall, pulling her arms up and over her head. He jerked up his mask and looked down into her face, as the gasp of recognition filled his ears.

He waited a minute and thought of all the scenarios that could play out. He knew that she would recognize him when he took off his mask. As the vice president of the Mountain Tribesmen, he was vocal and easily identified. Had he been too reckless on this one? If she turned around and ran the short distance into the house, would he have to make fast time to his bike and hot wheel it out of there or would this be the day he met his maker?

The smile she gave him was like a permission slip, and she moved her body as if she wanted more contact with his. He was glad that she made this choice. He kissed her glossy lips, starting it out just how he liked it. He wanted to see if she’d keep up or want him to slow down; but, she was with him the whole way, as he delved into her mouth to taste her. He didn’t do soft and sweet. He was grabby and demanding, and he loved when his women sighed deep into his mouth, a clear indication that they liked pleasure. He enjoyed a woman who liked to get off, and Emma didn’t disappoint him on that score either.

A wildfire. That’s what she turned into when he kissed her. She pulled her hands out of the grasp he had on them, grabbed the back of his neck, and hopped up to wrap her legs around him. He could see that she wasn’t kidding about liking a good ride. If his cock was out and hard, she’d be like a jockey on the final stretch. That thought made him firmer and ready to get this sexual party started. Pushing his hard length into the notch of her jeans where the inseams thickened the material, his cock throbbed, wanting to go further than the jean material would allow. She was starting to make soft mewling sounds in the back of her throat, and he was beginning to believe he’d be able to get this redheaded woman to come for him right here. He wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but he didn’t like the alternative, which was to wait until they’d gotten to a better place.

She stopped abruptly, took that decision out of his hands, and whispered, “Not here. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” That’s what he liked about club girls. They were down for whatever. However, he was sure this had more to do with her not wanting someone to see her with him in front of her club. She unlocked her legs from behind his back and slid down his body, but she didn’t look like she was in a hurry to leave. Staring up into his face with her breaths not quite even, he could tell she was gearing up to say something, but he had no clue as to what it was going to be.

“Rafael Neal,” she said with wonder in her voice. “I’ve always heard you had balls like steel alloy with a carbon chaser—but to walk into our club is one of the most brazen moves I’ve ever seen. I think I’m a bit impressed.”

He had to chuckle about that one. That they’d talked about him wasn’t a surprise, but that she remembered what they’d said and for him to find out was funny. Actually, it was downright hilarious.

“I’ve seen you before, you know,” she said, looking up at him almost shyly. That was almost laughable since she’d been flirting with him all night—not knowing who was behind the mask. Now that she knew, it seemed to calm her down a bit—and he wasn’t sure why.

“I know and you’ve eaten me up at each meeting. That bright red hair is your calling card, and you’ve been flipping it around all night, almost like you were baiting me. Each time I see you out on the town, I wonder why you don’t just flip sides to come get a taste—because it’s apparent how hungry you are for me.” He was just talking trash to her because he knew people didn’t leave one club for another. You barely left your club alive—well, usually. This wasn’t a bridge club or a reading club.  Once you joined, it was typically for life. There were a few exceptions; but, for the most part, you either obtained your exit in a body bag or cut up and fed to fish. He understood the world they were a part of, but that didn’t stop him from looking at the woman who so clearly had been interested in more than a simple greeting.

She pushed him back gently and continued to walk to where she was going before he turned her to give her a kiss. It was clear that she was still going to go with him, but she was so silent. When they reached his bike, she looked back at the house in the distance, and he wondered what she was thinking. He’d let her decide what she was going to do; but, if she lifted her leg to get on his bike, it would be all over. She seemed to be torn, and he couldn’t blame her for trying to sort this thing out, especially since the heat from this kiss had cooled. He put the mask in the side compartment of his bike and then looked at his guest once more. It was time to shit or get off the pot, as one of the older brothers liked to say. Getting on his bike, he got out the extra helmet he kept hanging on the back of the bike.

“What’s it going to be, baby?” he asked, knowing she really wanted to come along with him but also knowing it was a hard decision.

She continued to gaze at the house, and he finally looked over to see if she was looking at or signaling to someone, but no one was there. The club was secure, and no one appeared to be looking for their misplaced redhead. She looked at him on the bike, and he swore he could see the moment she made her decision. Her sexy smile had a “fuck it” look to it—Rafe’s favorite kind of smile—and she hopped up behind him holding in a bear hug. The hug felt good, but it also felt a little anxious. Not that she wasn’t in a situation that would fill anyone with anxiety, but it didn’t feel like that was the problem.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like to ride?” he said, not believing a club girl wouldn’t love to ride a motorcycle.

“I’m not telling you that. It just takes a while for me to get adjusted to a new driver. Some drivers are very reckless, weaving this way and that for no reason. I usually ride with Max. He’s an older guy, so he doesn’t need to do tricks or go fast to be happy.”

“You’re telling me you like a nice Sunday drive?”

“Not really that slow, but I like a cautious driver who doesn’t like to do a lot of tricks and drive carelessly. I’m precious cargo, and I’d like to get where I’m going in one piece,” she said, as she sat behind him putting on her helmet.

“The ride on my bike is going to be a quick and easy ride, but when I take your body for a ride I can’t promise it will be either of those things.”

The tinkle of laughter in his ear reminded him to put on his decorated half-helmet before he revved up his ride. With all that she’d said before, he wasn’t sure how this part of the venture would go. Would she be one of those girls who didn’t want to participate with turns making it harder to get around corners? He didn’t have to worry for long because before they’d gotten too far he discovered that she knew how to ride a bike. She moved her body a bit, allowing him to make the curves and bends of the road. He could feel her warm body holding on to his, and his mind said he could feel the warmth of her pussy as she sat with him between her legs. All of that coupled with the wind in his face and sitting between the legs of one of his most favorite things made him hornier than ever. There was a low throb in his cock that seemed to ebb and flow while he was at the party—ebb when she walked away from him and throb when she was near. It was as if his body wanted her and knew when she was around.

“Where are you taking me?” she said, and he wondered if she was always this trusting. It wasn’t a trait he usually saw in this type of woman. The club environment tended to make people feel like everyone was against them, causing them to watch their backs at all times.

“I thought we’d go and do a little night shooting. There is a place a few miles from here.” That was an understatement since the ride was quite a ways off; but, he wanted to go somewhere without any people around. The shooting spot was empty, and most of the Tribesmen were occupied. Plus, club members had to sign up to get the keys to the place, and he knew that he had the only set.

“Okay great. I…um…I love to shoot,” she said, but he’d known that. Who wouldn’t love to shoot?

CHAPTER THREE

When they finally pulled up at the non-posted, undisclosed area where he normally did his target practice, he felt more in control than he had all night, and he typically enjoyed this feeling. His need for excitement, like always, had him in the right place at the right time. He parked at the bottom of the hill in the enclosure so that no one would know they were there. It’s not like anyone would have known because there wasn’t anyone around for miles but the Mountain Tribesmen; yet, it was better to be safe than to be sorry. That motto had served him well.

He walked her up to the small cottage-like house that held the ammunition and a few other comforts of home. It took a while to find the key to fit the lock because Jimmy “Lock” Brewster was the keeper of the keys and Rafael didn’t think he’d ever thrown a key away. Every key Lock was in charge of—ever in his life—was on the large key ring. When he finally found the right one, he opened the cold facility, ushered Emma in, and turned on the lights.

Her eyes ate him up in the bright light of the two-room shack, and he saw that she had also put on a jacket when she’d left him. They hadn’t said anything for the last few miles of the trip or the walk up the hill to the cabin. The only thing that could be heard was the dripping of the sink and their footsteps on the wood floor.

He led her over to the wood box in the corner, so she could help him bring a few pieces over to the fireplace. The temperature in the room had to be fixed first, as he didn’t want her to be too cold when he unwrapped and exposed her sexy body. She accepted the wood in her arms and followed him to the fireplace to set it down.

She sighed, and he was coming to figure out that meant she had something to say. “So what led Rafael ‘The Lucky One’ to the life he leads now?” She started talking in her soft sexy voice that he was sure she used to get secrets out of the most hardened of men. Just listening to her soothing tone and sexy timbre, he knew he’d have to be on guard with her. She was dangerous to him. He’d already brought her to a place that was pretty well-guarded within the club, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to get into this too deeply. He wanted pussy, and she looked and acted as if she was willing to give but how much information was he willing to share? Most of his women weren’t talkers; or, if they were, he didn’t pay them enough attention to notice. He wasn’t full of idle chit chat or long answers. A minimalist. He read that once somewhere and thought it sounded like him—putting forth the least amount of effort to get the results he desired.

“It’s a long, boring story, darlin’ and I’m sure we could make much better use of our time,” he said, hoping that would put an end not to only her questions but his desire to answer them. He got her settled on the couch and went to start the fire. It was colder than he thought it would be in the small drafty cabin.

The fireplace was used often, so it was easy to find the kindling and lighter and start a fire. This was one of the things he loved to do—create something from practically nothing. He tucked paper and kindling between the logs and watched the flame lick higher and higher before he got up to get them something to drink. He uncapped the bottles, but one was a bit hard to get off. Yet, he kept working on it.

She cleared her throat a few times, and he wondered what question she was choking on now. “It’s been said that you didn’t know your family and were raised in foster care,” she said in a quiet voice that wasn’t filled with sexy but with real interest.

He stopped and looked at the woman who dared to bring that up. The beer bottle cap made a tickling noise in the background, as it hit the ground. No one talked about that time of his life. He’d made sure of it. It had been speculated upon, and he’d heard people talk about it in soft reverent tones where he couldn’t really hear all they’d said, but he knew what topic had come up. He didn’t talk about that time of his life for a reason, but it wasn’t for the reasons that most people thought. He didn’t mind that his badass persona could keep people from bringing it up. For that, he was supremely satisfied.

“Yeah. What about it?” His voice was gruffer than he wanted it to be, but he really didn’t like to go back there in his mind.

“Nothing. I just heard so much about you growing up. Miss Marlene talked about you all the time.” She threw out that zinger, as if she didn’t realize how much bite it had with it. Yet, she would have had to know that it would surprise him.

He didn’t think he’d be more shocked if she had pulled off a mask and been one of the members of the Reapers, but he had nothing if he didn’t have one of the best poker faces. He wanted to know what she knew, but he didn’t want her to get a drop on him or his foster mother. He proceeded slowly. “What do you know about her?”

“Now, don’t get your gears all in a shift. I can see on your face that you are already putting two and two together and coming out with the wrong answer. I lived with Miss Marlene a few years after you left.” She put her hand out to accept the beer, and he walked over to her and sat on the couch. He leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle, wanting to appear relaxed even though that was far from the truth.

This was even worse than he put together in his mind about her being one of the Reapers. That would have been easier to face than this…well, as long as he didn’t think about the kiss they’d shared. Kissing a man would be hard to digest, but this was different.

He didn’t want to go back to that part of his life. Examining it, feeling guilty about it, craving it. It made him think about some of the choices he’d made. He’d grown up hard before going into the foster system, and there were times he wished he could have been with Miss Marlene long before he had. That may have made being a good boy something more attainable, but he’d grown up in the life of his motorcycle club, and the older he got the stronger the call became. The club was in his blood, and he’d always felt it was something he was born to do. He decided to try to keep it light. Then, he could see where she was going with this line of questioning and whether he needed to take her back to her club and cut his losses or if they could move forward to this evening’s planned sexual activities.

“Oh, really? How is she?” He knew his tone belied how much he really wanted the answer to that question. It’d had been a long while since he’d seen his foster mom, but a couple of times a year he thought about her…so much he’d thought of visiting her. That wouldn’t be a good idea because she would know that he’d been into criminal activity—and that was something he knew she didn’t like.

“She’s pretty good, I guess. I haven’t seen her in quite a while either. It’s hard to believe I’m with the man I’d only see in pictures and a few times in passing. Miss Marlene had so many pictures of you all over the house, it was hard to act like I didn’t know who you were when I first saw you.”

“So, why did you ask me what brought me here if you already knew?” Cynicism was the nature of his beast, and for this line of questioning, he wasn’t going to hold back. Was he dumb enough to walk into a set up? He hadn’t felt that in his gut when he met her—or any time up until now—but that didn’t mean his gut wasn’t off. It had never happened to him before. Pretty woman or not, he paid attention to the way each particular person made him feel, and it had done pretty well by him. He was still alive so that was the testimony for that.

“I knew how you grew up and how old you were when you went to live with Miss Marlene, but I don’t know why you left. No one does…especially Miss Marlene. She was always worrying about you and hoping you’d come back.” She watched him closely, and he could tell that she had wanted to question him for a good long while since she was taking what could be a simple and fun experience and running it over with questions.

What was this? A game show? This is your life? He could almost imagine someone coming out with other pieces of his past to wave in front of his face. That would be disastrous because he didn’t want to see any parts of his past. The good or the bad. He was all about moving on and living in the now. That was the best way to survive, and he knew a shit load about survival.

“Like I always say, I have been everywhere and here is where I landed. Do you still keep in touch with her?” He hadn’t meant to ask but now that he had he really wanted to know. He gave her the little diddy he always said when someone asked him about his past. It was enough to let them know the truth, but just shy of “go fuck yourself.” He just wanted to let the person who asked know that those types of questions weren’t going to be answered kindly and to move on to something else.

“I got into a little trouble when my mom got out of jail, but I was 17 at the time. I picked up and left instead of taking the bit of punishment Miss Marlene would have dished out,” she said.

“Sounds like you regret leaving,” he said.

This was the first time he willingly talked about anything related to foster care, but since this woman had shared a big part of what made his time so great, he made an exception. He owed Marlene his life.

Emma looked over at him with a frown on her face, as if she hadn’t thought of that before. “I guess I do. I can track all the shittiness in my life to that one decision. I’m sure you don’t feel the same way. You’re on top of your game and on top of the world.”

Well, she definitely had him pegged because that was how he felt most of the time. When he’d left his foster mother’s house, there was no malice or harm meant on his part, just a driving desire to get out and do what he knew he had to. Marlene was one of the sweetest women he’d ever known, but he knew the life she was offering him wasn’t the one he was born to lead. However, it would have broken the woman’s heart if she knew what he was doing now.

He knew that Marlene had the power to talk him out of what he wanted to do. At that time, when he was hot headed and 16, he hadn’t wanted to deal with that or with her. Leaving in the middle of the night was the best he could do for both of them. There were times he’d sent money in the mail to assuage the twinge of guilt that he felt when he thought of leaving one of the only people who truly cared about him.

“I like where I am,” he stated carefully. “How did you get hooked up with the Reapers?”

“Like I said, my mother got out of jail and needed my help running drugs to a few people in the neighborhood. That was one of her only sources of income, so I wanted to help out. I did that off and on for a while, but I was still living in foster care. When I finally got busted and went to jail, Miss Marlene came to bail me out; but, she told me that it was the only time she was going to do it. I needed to decide what I wanted to do with my life.”

He listened and could almost hear the soft spoken woman saying that very thing. She didn’t take any shit from anyone and had six-foot-tall linebackers in her home that listened as if they were small children when the four-foot-something woman put her foot down. Thinking back on that, he almost chuckled. However, thinking about Marlene always turned him nostalgic with a small ache in his stomach. Whether that was because he missed the peace that she offered or something else, he wasn’t quite sure.

“I got out and made the decision to return to live with my mother, and it was all downhill from there. Or is that uphill? Whatever way means your life has turned to shit—that was the way it was going. Sometimes I would wake up and remember the smell of pancakes and bacon and almost get excited about it, until I recalled where I was and that I was on my own. There was no hot breakfast when I was living with my mother—unless I was the one buying and making it.”

He watched Emma as she talked and couldn’t decide what about her was so attractive. She was fairly plain—except for her rich, thick red hair; but, there was something about her that drew his attention and not just tonight. He’d told her he’d seen her lick him from his head-to-toe mentally the few times their paths had crossed, but it wasn’t like she was the only woman there at the time of the visual molestation, so he’d probably done his share of eye-fucking her, too. They’d been circling each other even then, but usually there was something distracting going on.

“That’s all life is about. Decisions. Hindsight is 20/20, and you can only do the best with the information you have available at that time.” He wanted to get that look off her face. He knew you could only move forward and regretting the past wasn’t going to do her any good.

“You’re right.” She still looked worried; but, at least she agreed with him.

“So, you got caught up in the life of crime. How did you make your way over to this particular club?” He was shocked at how interested he was in learning about her life. It sounded like she had come a long way from where she had been and so had he to some extent. The thought crossed his mind that she possibly was a great actress because she always looked like she was the life of the party, and she never had that haunted look in her eye that some people who were trying to hide something seemed to carry around like a cloak.