Biker's Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC) (Includes bonus novel Kinged!) (30 page)

I looked back at him, desperate and afraid. “No, it’s fine, I can pay.”

He shook his head. “Pretty girls like you don’t pay in my bar.”

Before I could answer, I felt another person appear at my side. I looked up and it was Rex, his face grim and serious. He nodded to Michael.

“Hey, Michael, how’s it going?” Rex said.

“Rex, my lad, things are great. Just talking to this fine young lady,” Michael responded, and clapped Rex on the back. Rex flinched at his touch, and I sensed his body’s tension. Rex put his arm around my shoulders, his face still grim.

“This is Darcy,” he said to Michael.

Michael’s face dropped into a scowl for a brief second. My terror spiked, and the only thing keeping me from running away was Rex’s strong arm and comforting presence. I knew that I was safe, even if Michael was terrifying. As the moment stretched into dangerous, awkward territory, Michael suddenly broke the silence by laughing loudly. Rex’s face relaxed, and some of the tension left his body. Michael clapped Rex on the back again and pretended like there was never an insidious moment.

“So it is, then,” he said, and then turned and started to walk away.

I looked up at Rex. His face was a mask of grim anger. I slipped my arm around his waist and felt the muscles in his body flex under my touch.

Before Michael took more than a few steps, he turned back around and looked at Rex. “Well done last night, by the way. Keep that up.” He nodded, and then continued away.

I slipped my arm away from Rex and grabbed the drinks as he steered us back to the booth. Once there, we sat down again, and he slammed his beer back, finishing it all in one go. He banged the glass back down, and I felt the tension slowly drain from the room.

My body was shaking and my heart was racing. I realized I was full of adrenaline. I sipped my drink, trying to calm my nerves. It seemed like such an innocent moment on the face of it, but there was clearly a subtext of violence and danger. I didn’t fully understand it, but the feeling was clear.

“Sorry about him,” Rex said quietly.

I shook my head, unable to respond.

His eyes met mine. “Stay away from him if you can.”

I nodded. I could definitely follow that advice.

“What did he mean, good job last night?” I asked.

Rex leaned back in his seat, sighed, and looked away.

“I had a job last night,” he said. I finished off my drink and felt the warm, comforting embrace of the whiskey fill my chest and stomach.

“Is that where you got your black eye?”

He looked at me then nodded.

I held his gaze, desperate for him. “What do you do, Rex?”

He was quiet a minute, and then reached his hand out and took mine. It caught me off guard, how tender and gentle his touch was, completely the opposite of the last few minutes. The expression on his face was pained.

“I fight,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

He sighed and squeezed my hand. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Wait, you can’t just say something like that and then leave.”

“I’m cashing in my favor. Come back to my place. I’ll tell you what I mean there.”

I felt the thrill of his touch come back to me. I forgot all about Michael at the bar, and all about his weird job. I fell deep into the green pool of his eyes and his soft lips.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He stood, and I followed. Right then, I knew I’d follow him wherever he led.

I
went out into the night with Rex, not sure what was coming, not sure where we were going, but I found myself trusting him. I was still running on adrenaline, and although I was a little wary of what was happening, nothing about Rex suggested he would hurt me in any way. I wasn’t usually the type to follow men back to their apartment, especially not men like Rex Latour, but his magnetism was drawing me in deeper with every passing glance. I felt a little tipsy, but not drunk enough to do something stupid.

We walked for a few blocks, heading south. I followed close behind him, but we didn’t speak. There was a funk hanging in the air between us, and I could feel him still brooding about our encounter with Michael.

The streets were dim, lit only at large intervals by weak yellow streetlights. Much of the houses were in shadow, and it almost felt like this part of the city was abandoned. I breathed the cool air in deeply and pretended like this was our neighborhood, and I ruled it alongside Rex. He was my king and I was his queen, and those empty, dark streets were our streets. People like Michael couldn’t bother us there, not in our kingdom of darkness.  I took a few quick steps and caught Rex’s hand. He didn’t look back, but he squeezed my palm in response, and we walked the last two blocks hand in hand. I kinged him in my mind and made him my ruler for the night.

Finally, we reached his building. It was like every other place on the block, brick front façade and an old, painted wooden door. He unlocked the handle, pushed it open, and I followed him inside. We went up a flight of stairs where he unlocked another door. This was obviously a house that had been renovated into two apartments, one downstairs and one upstairs. I guessed the third floor was another apartment, but he didn’t say, and I never checked.

Inside, the space was dark. Rex stepped in a few paces then flicked a switch. His apartment was sparse. There was a kitchen to the right, a large space for a living room, and a bedroom and a bathroom off down a short hallway. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration. He had workout equipment near the couch, a single old television, a beat up coffee table, and not much else. I didn’t expect a professionally decorated space, but it was a little strange how empty it felt.

He walked across the room and dropped onto the couch. I followed him in, a little tentative.

“Cool place,” I said.

“No, it isn’t.” He patted the seat next to him again. I walked over and sat down.

“I like this neighborhood.”

He shrugged and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. I looked at him.

“Pretty empty though,” I said.

He opened one eye and grinned at me. “I like to keep it simple, just in case.”

“Just in case of what?”

He shrugged again. “Want a drink?”

“Sure, what do you have?” He was getting pretty good at avoiding my questions.

He stood up and went into the kitchen. After a minute, he came back with two drinks, a can of beer for himself and a tall glass that looked like soda.

“Whiskey and Coke, just like you like,” he said.

I eyed the drink. “That’s all that’s in there?”

He laughed. “I don’t need to drug you. Drink up, Miss Spoiled Girl.”

I took a sip and swallowed as he took a long pull on his can. He placed his drink on the coffee table.

“Alright, I’m here. Want to explain the fighting thing?”

He sighed then shifted his body toward me. He took the drink from my hand and placed it on the coffee table next to his. Looking back at me, he took my face gently in his hands and kissed me long and deeply. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, and I shifted my weight to press myself close against him. I lost myself in his kiss for what felt like an hour, until he pulled away.

“Is that what I’m here for?” I whispered.

“No, I just wanted to do that before I told you.” He moved away, but his hands lingered on my thigh.

“Let’s get this secret over with then, the suspense is killing me.”

He nodded, face suddenly somber. “I fight for a living,” he said.

“I know, you said that already. But what does that mean?”

“Do you know what MMA is?” he asked.

“Not really. I think I’ve seen it on the TV guide or something, but I’ve never watched it.”

“Well, it’s like boxing. Except MMA stands for mixed martial arts, which means you can fight in whatever style you want. There are fewer rules. It’s faster, harder, and more violent. I do something like MMA.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “So how is Michael your boss then?”

“That’s a little more complicated. You have to understand, I don’t fight in any professional club. I guess it’s called street fighting. Michael runs it.”

“Wait, so like, an illegal fighting ring?” I felt a little confused.

He nodded. “Exactly like that. Michael gets a lot of local fighters, dudes who can’t exactly get involved in the legal MMA competitions, and has them fight. People place bets through Michael’s people, and the money gets moved around that way. I fight in those matches.”

That made sense, and explained his injuries. “But why are you doing it? Why don’t you fight in a regular fight?”

He sighed and pulled his hands away. He looked out over his apartment, eyes far away. I wasn’t sure what I should do, whether I should reach for him or hold back. His eyes came back to mine, and they burned into me.

“I owe Michael a lot of money. I was a pretty terrible person for a long time, deep into drugs and shit like that. I got clean a year ago, and I’ve been fighting to work off my debt ever since.”

That surprised me. I knew people involved with drugs, and I knew how difficult it was to stay clean. Making it for over a year was a real achievement, and I guessed he was pretty serious about staying clean. Rex didn’t seem like a junkie, but people can change a lot in a year. Plus, there was the issue of owing Michael money. How much could he possibly have owed? It must have been a lot if he was willing to risk his body, maybe even his life, in order to pay back the debt. I wasn’t sure what to think, and felt completely out of my league for the first time since we had met.

“Who is this guy?” I asked.

“Michael is a dangerous man. That’s all you need to know.” He paused, but his eyes smoldered into mine. “Look, if you want to leave, I understand. I’m sick of lying to people.”

“I don’t want to leave.” As the words left my mouth, I realized they were true.

His body moved back toward mine, and I felt his lips press against me. He leaned forward and moved me back into the arm of the couch. His weight and solid body rubbed against me, pinning me to the cushion, as his mouth and tongue kissed me hungrily. I returned his kiss and his hunger. My body full of the thrill of him, an aching need I hadn’t fully realized was there. I wrapped my arms around him as his hands ran down my body, stopped to linger over my full breasts, and moved down along my hips. He gripped my body firmly as he pressed himself harder against me, and I felt his huge bulge rub against my spot.

I let out a small gasp as he moved his lips down along my neck. His hips began to grind slowly into mine, his rock hard bulge a bright spot of pleasure against my mound, and I grabbed harder at his back.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispered in my ear.

I pressed myself harder against him and let out a small ‘ah’ as his tough rod pressed harder against me. He growled in response and moved backwards, away from me. I held tight onto him and he grabbed my back to lift me up. He put me on my feet and crushed his body into mine. I was amazed at how easily he pulled me from lying back down to standing up straight, almost as if by magic.

He pulled my shirt off, and I lifted my arms up to let him remove it. I felt his eyes roam across my chest, my breasts covered by my favorite frilly black bra. I reached out and pulled his shirt off, and each inch of exposed flesh revealed a new muscle. He let me pull it over his head, and I threw the shirt across the room, his eyes never leaving mine.

As I let my gaze linger down his broad shoulders and his nicely defined chest, I stopped short as I caught sight of a thick, black and blue bruise along his ribcage on his right side.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, and gently ran my fingertips over it.

He grinned. “It’s nothing, just a battle scar.”

“I think your ribs are probably broken. You need a doctor.”

He shook his head then wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body against his. I laced my arms around his neck.

“Can’t see a doctor, no money for it. I’ll heal.”

“No, Rex, seriously—” I tried to argue, but his mouth crushed against mine, and I fell silent as he resumed kissing me. I felt his left hand unsnap my bra then move around to massage my breasts. His right hand slid down my shorts, and I stood up onto my tiptoes with pleasure and arched my back as his rough fingers found my soaking wet panties. He rubbed gently but firmly, and I felt the pleasure build.

His lips found my neck again and I let out a soft moan. His left arm moved around to my back and firmly wrapped around my shoulders as his right hand slipped inside my panties to find my soaking clit. His lips kissed along my neck and throat, and I threw my head back with pleasure, every muscle in my body straining.

“God, that’s good,” I managed to get out, and I felt him smile.

“You like that, spoiled girl?”

“Fuck you,” I moaned back, knees shaking as his calloused fingers ran around my clit and waves of pleasure overtook me.

“I know you want that,” he said, and slid his hand out, as the pleasure felt like it was about to crest. I dropped back onto the flats of my feet and slipped my hands from around his neck, letting my bra drop to the floor, moved my fingers down his sculpted chest and abs, and unbuttoned his fly. He dropped his arms to his sides as I unzipped his shorts and pulled them down, dropping to my knees. I reached up and pulled down his black boxer briefs and watched as his rock hard cock slid out.

I reached up and gripped the base, shocked at its size and girth. “Holy shit,” I said quietly, and I heard him grunt his pleasure at my reaction. I looked up at him, lips gently at his tip, and his deep green eyes burned with pleasure. I slid my tongue out along the tip, ran it down to the root, and back up, sliding his cock into my mouth.

“Fuck yes,” he growled, and slid his fingers into my hair. I sucked hard at his tip, running it in and out, then took as much of him into my throat as I could.

“Oh, fuck yes, you spoiled slut,” he said, and I felt a thrill fill me. I slid back and sucked him hard, running my right hand around his shaft while my left hand caressed his rock hard abs. I wanted so badly for him to call me a slut again, so I slid his cock into my throat and felt myself gag.