REIGN: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (10 page)

~
11
~

Reign was having the best dream of his life. He’d had some doozies
before, but this one was…spectacular. Mostly because of who was in it. That
raven-haired, tan-skinned, luscious woman he’d been lucky to spend the night
with – and now lucky to be dreaming of.

He was holding her by the waist, their mouths inches away from each
other, their eyes matched perfectly. Her flesh was warm and inviting under his
fingertips, seemed to crawl with life and pleasure, and her face was flushed
with expectation. She had her hands on his backside, was pulling him into her,
his manhood plunged into her welcoming sex, where it throbbed and throbbed with
almost painful desire.

They were in the bar, or a bar, and she was seated on the table before
him, completely naked, her large breasts perfectly shaped and pressed against
his bare chest. He thrust into her, spreading her legs wide, making her eyes
seem to grow larger and larger as he stared into them.

His whole being strained forward into her, like she was a vortex that
led straight to paradise. And she just felt so soft, so warm, so wet and loving
and accepting of him as he moved his hips back and forth, impossibly slow,
feeling every rib and fold of her pussy caress his cock, releasing it only to
pull it back in deeper and deeper each time.

“Reign, Reign, Reign,” he heard his own name coming from her throat,
the words taking the form of glowing lights that surrounded his head. She was
so close, he could feel her pussy clenching around his cock, could feel his
body responding in kind, his balls churning and his thighs buckling as he
plunged into her again and again, suffering beautifully on the edge of coming,
wanting to stay hard inside her forever, to feel this awful bliss for every
second of every day of the rest of his life.

The sounds coming out of her mouth suddenly changed, became short,
sharp bleats. Violent against his ears. Her skin began to change, shift or
melt, into something like fabric. She was going, she was leaving him, she was
turning into…

“Gabriella,” he said, and his own voice finally pulled him from sleep.
With a slap, he silenced the alarm that was bleating red, jagged beeps
throughout the room. And with a groan he realized he’d been holding his
comforter, that the only warm body in his room was his own. He looked over to
the empty space in his king-size bed.

Why did I buy a fucking king-sized mattress if I
always sleep alone,
he thought, bitter
and annoyed. He hadn’t slept long enough. That was all. He wasn’t mad because
the dream was just a dream, he wasn’t mad about waking up alone, he was just
cranky. He’d set the alarm for 8:45, planning to keep his word and meet
Gabriella once more at 9:00. Now, he didn’t regret this choice, but he did
regret staying at the bar so long earlier that day.

Reign was not a man who liked his sleep to be cut short.

But he wasn’t going to leave that beautiful woman hanging, either.

As he rose, shaking his head as though he could knock his hangover
away, he thought about what it might be like to fall asleep and wake up nestled
close next to a woman. A woman like her, mainly, but any woman. The other girls
he’d slept with recently didn’t make the idea very enticing, but her…

What the fuck is going on with you, man? You
never get this way over chicks. She’s just your type, sure, but there’s others
like her, and you’ll never get to screw them if you settle down with her,
he thought, distraught by his own heart’s hollow
beating, its sense of loneliness. This was not a feeling Reign was used to.

Not by a wide margin.

Reign the playboy, Reign the hunk, Reign the drifter. Not Reign the
boyfriend, or, worse yet, the groom. He didn’t need an old lady to take care of
him. And there was certainly no lack of girls who were willing to give him what
he needed in the bedroom. Even
if
those
girls weren’t exactly what he wanted, and couldn’t
really
give him exactly what he needed.

No, he needed someone like Gabriella…

Or no one at all,
he thought. It was good that she would be going,
after all. Once she left town, he could get back to being his old self,
unfettered by romance. His heart winced at the idea of waving her off as she
drove down the road. But he was sure he could buy another night or two of her
company.

And he really
would
be
helping her. He already had plans for that car of hers. And, it would take some
string-pulling, but he knew he could get her safe passage to South America.
Hustling someone
into
Mexico was a
hell of a lot easier than hustling someone
out
of Mexico.

Another night or two,
he repeated to himself, trying to make that wince
in his heart fade. It didn’t, only throbbed all the harder. If he already felt
this way after one night, did he really imagine it would get better once he
fell a little deeper?

Maybe I’ll get bored of her,
he thought hopefully. Surely, once he’d gotten a
few more chances to partake in the pleasures she offered, he’d lose interest
and she would just be someone he was fond of, like a sister he’d be willing to
go out of his way to help but who he no longer wanted to screw seven ways from
Sunday.

He was surprised when even
that
thought,
which should have comforted him, only made him sadder. What did she think of
him, anyway?

The question hit him like a runaway truck on a steep grade in the dead
of winter.

Since when did Reign give two shits about what anyone thought of him?
Not just girls – anyone? He was his own man, he liked himself, as far as he was
concerned that was the end of the story. No, Reign didn’t like that question at
all. He didn’t want to have to wonder what someone else thought of him. Even
someone special…
which she is NOT,
he
reminded himself.

But, really, what
did
she
think of him? Did she think he was just using her? Did she have feelings for
him? If she didn’t already have feelings for him, would keeping up the romantic
aspect of their friendship – if you could even call it that – make her start
developing feelings for him?

And then would she think he dumped her like a bag of moldy potatoes?

Would she hate him?

Could she love him?

The minutes were ticking away, and he was just sitting on the edge of
his bed, staring down at his two bare feet like they could provide those
answers.

You don’t care about those answers, though, you
care about you, and the club, and that’s it,
he thought, but it was becoming more and more pointless. That voice in
him that wanted to preserve the good thing he had going, that desperately
wanted homeostasis, was getting softer and softer, as though he was walking
down a long hallway and leaving that voice behind.

This new voice – the one with all the damn questions – was louder. And
way more obnoxious.

Reign looked at the clock again. 8:55.
Shit,
he thought. Where had ten minutes gone? He didn’t want to be
late – yet another newfound concern. Reign was never a punctual man. Now, he’d
have to shower in the sink and brush his teeth on the toilet.

Groaning, still tired but thankful for the gradual waning of his
hangover, he got to his feet and headed to the bathroom, where the shelves were
nearly bare except for basics. Hangover remedy (aspirin and tums), shampoo,
conditioner (he had to keep up the health of those long locks, after all),
razor and cream. Toothbrush and toothpaste.

An image flitted in his brain of the bathroom in the house he’d grown
up in. With a mother and two sisters, the family bathroom was girl-central.
Tampons, seventeen types of shampoo, an arsenal of body lotions and sugar
scrubs and exfoliators and razors and
loofahs
. It had
been cluttered but…pleasant, almost. All those bright colors made the bathroom
seem lively, especially in a house where “lively” usually meant Dad was home
and drunk and screaming and about to punch you in the face.

He wondered what his little bathroom would look like filled with a
bunch of some woman’s beauty care products…

Damn, Reign
really
hated the
things his brain was doing recently.

~
12
~

After another hour
and a half of waiting in my hotel room, clicking through the channels
aimlessly, all the peace of mind I’d managed to gain that afternoon had reached
its limit and I was back to waves of utter panic. My fingernails looked like
some sort of horrible art school exhibit. My right eye was twitching
uncontrollably. My lungs felt like I’d just run a marathon from all the
hyperventilating I was doing. I was a total mess.

As soon as the clock struck 9, I stood up and walked mechanically
towards the door. Some part of my poor, overworked brain expected to open the
door and see Reign standing there. I cast a last long look at the safe before
leaving; it still seemed to throb or pulse with the secret inside.

All that money isn’t going to do me a damn bit of
good if Jeremy kills me,
I thought for
the umpteenth time that day. Most people dream of happening upon that much
money, and it was certainly my savior in terms of escaping my marriage, but it
was a very heavy weight to be carrying on my shoulders.

I didn’t know how much longer I could possibly support that weight.

At least, not without some help.

I crossed the dusty parking lot, temples throbbing with each step I
took closer to the bar.
Maybe you should
just stay in the room,
I thought, figuring that if Reign was any sort of
good he’d come looking for me there once he saw I wasn’t at the bar. But
another minute in that room, staring at the TV without actually comprehending
anything I was seeing, would be an eternity in hell.

The bar was as crowded as it had been the night before – and even
though I was no longer clutching the money to me like a baby, I felt less
secure than ever. After all, I had to assume that word had gotten around by
now, if Reign had made good on his promise to tell everyone that I was in their
hands for safe keeping.

I certainly generated far more interest amongst the crowd than I had
the previous night, with various people giving me looks and then turning to say
something to their neighbor, who’d also turn to look at me. But, strangely
enough, even though this was far removed from any sort of crowd I’d feel
comfortable with, I didn’t feel that awkward with all the eyes on me. Mostly, I
guess, because the looks were more curious – or even accepting – than anything
else. Also because I was too damn scared of everything else in the world to
give a hoot about the patrons of the Sun Lizard Motel and Bar.

I scanned the busy room, looking for Reign, and didn’t see him. But I
did
spot the woman who had been tending
bar the night before, who had rented me the room. She was sitting at a table
with another, much younger woman. They were leaning in close, talking
confidentially, but from their shared smiles I got the feeling that it wasn’t
too serious a conversation. I began to walk towards her, since she was the
closest to an acquaintance that I had in the joint.

I wasn’t noticed even as I drew closer; the two women were drawing
closer, too, to each other. I bit my lip, rethinking my plan, as it became
clear that I was about to intrude on something very personal. The bartender’s
companion was a slight, young blonde, and she seemed enamored with the older
woman, hanging onto every whispered word.

I slowed down my approach, mind skipping somewhat; I had – and have –
no problem with lesbians, but its awkward barging in on
anyone’s
make-out
sesh
, especially
someone like the bartender, who hadn’t seemed to like me very much the night
before to begin with. But I didn’t know who else to ask about Reign; I
considered just going back to my room and waiting, but the idea alone was
enough to drive me into a frantic state. I needed answers.

Just as I was about to dart forward and interrupt the kiss before it
happened, the two women closed the gap between them, their lips meeting in a
soft blur. Even as a straight woman, the view of two beautiful women kissing
deeply wasn’t wholly lost on me.

Damn it,
I
thought, selfishly,
now it’s
gonna
be super awkward.

What could I do? I was only a few steps away from the table where the
women were kissing, their mouths now slightly parted, a faint pink hint of
tongue between them. The bartender had her hand on the younger woman’s bicep
and was stroking the flesh there; to my surprise, I seemed to be the only one
watching.

I’d have thought a room full of dirty old biker dudes would have been
hollering over the girl-on-girl action. But nope. It was just me. Just me being
a weird creeper watching two perfectly consenting adults make out while I stood
around with my mouth hanging open and my mind shot to shit with worry and
stress.

I guess I knew they’d notice me eventually; I just hoped they wouldn’t
notice until they were done kissing. But no luck; I watched as the older
woman’s eyes peeked open and turned my way, as though she’d felt me looking.
She pulled back from the kiss quickly, and I saw the younger girl’s head
trailing along, lips puckered, as though looking for more.

“Can I help you?” the older woman snapped, her eyes now drilling holes
into mine. I flinched under her gaze. The younger girl kept staring at the
bartender at first, with a look akin to wonder, then turned to me, her face a
sort of blank slate.

I don’t like to speak poorly of other women, especially not after what
I’ve been through, but the girl looked like more like a bimbo now that I was
up-close and could pick up on her vacant stare. Looking at her reminded me,
somewhat, of times when I would lay in bed next to Jeremy, or even sit across
from him at dinner, and force my mind to go blank. To avoid feeling anything,
I’d often choose to feel and think nothing. The girl had the same look on her
face as she stared at me. It made me feel tremendously sad, more than I’d felt
since leaving Colorado.

I decided to package that feeling and hide it away for the time being.
There would be hours and hours of driving that I could spend trying to unpack
that feeling, and many other feelings. Now, I needed to get my shit together.

“I’m…I’m looking for Reign?” I said, softly, still shaken by the way
the bartender was looking at me.

“Well, do I look like him?” She spat back, clearly annoyed that her
moment with the blonde had been interrupted. But it was more than that.

“No, it’s just…I’m sorry. I just really need to…he has my car keys
and…I just really need to….” I muttered, stuttering over my words, eyes
dropping to the ground. There was a long pause as my sentence trailed off into
nothing, before the bartender spoke once more. Her voice when she spoke sounded
softer, almost resigned.

Or possibly empathetic?

I figured that was too much to hope for. When I looked back up at her,
head still lowered, her face matched her voice: softer, less angry, more
patient. She sighed.

“I get it, I get it, I’m sorry. My bark is worse than my bite. But,
sorry doll, Reign didn’t leave her ‘til about three hours ago. I expect he’s
still sleeping it off. That boy might not show his face again ‘til morning. He
didn’t leave no keys with me, though,” she said, turning away from the girl now
to sit facing me, her arms folding across each other on the table. I was struck
once more by her beauty; she was older, but her eyes had a fiery glow, her face
lean but full. She gave off the aura of some sort of Grecian warrior.

“Oh,” I said, processing this new information. A part of me, despite
myself, was a bit annoyed; he hadn’t just gone home and gone to sleep? I
brushed the irritation away; I was in no position to be judging this
near-stranger’s habits or choices.

What was more pressing was the fact that without my keys, I was stuck
there whether it was safe for me to leave or not. It was no longer my choice;
that scared me. I’d lived without the option to make my own choices for so
long, and it had been intoxicating to order for myself and choose to have a
drink or a cigarette. I didn’t want to be left without choices ever again, even
if it was under far different circumstances than my marriage.

The bartender was still staring at me as my mind turned, slowly. She
didn’t seem impatient, but she did seem…calculating? As though she was watching
to see what I’d do, or like she was making a slow judgement of me. I wanted to
impress her; I didn’t know why, and I didn’t know how, but I wanted this woman
to respect me.

“Do you know where he lives?” I finally asked, figuring that I could
just go grab my keys from him without causing too much trouble for anyone.
Honey nodded, but I could tell from her expression that she didn’t want to give
up that information.

“I do, and I could tell
ya
, but I’d rather
not. Though he has taken quite a shine to you, I don’t think he’d mind you
knowing where he lays his head down. But he
would
mind being woken up, and if he didn’t take it out on you he’d take it out
on me. I don’t
wanna
hear him in here
whinin
’ about how I interrupted his sleep by
givin
’ out his address,” she said, ending with a
halfhearted
smile, not remotely apologetic.

“Well…I’m just….I’m worried…I need my keys and….”

“He comes in, I’ll let you know you’re looking for him, how’s that?”

“I just…” I felt myself creeping towards the edge, tears threatening
to tumble down my cheeks as I grew more and more claustrophobic in the bar. I
wanted to leave already, I wanted to get back on the road. Jeremy could be
right on my tail by then…

“Darling, you’ll be safe enough here, you know,” the woman suddenly
said, leaning forward. The girl beside her seemed to fade into the background
as the bartender focused all her attention on me.

“And Rein is a good man. He’ll take care of you. I know you don’t have
any reason to trust me, or him, but we’re your best chance right now at getting
away in one piece. I don’t know your story, and I don’t
wanna
know your story, but I seen enough of girls like you to know someone’s looking
for you. But he won’t find you here, I promise you that. We’ll make sure of it.
Now, Reign’s probably got some scheme for
helpin
’
you, I don’t know what, but you
oughta
know you
ain’t
gonna
find yourself in
better hands.”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to feel safe and sound and easy and
clean and free. I wanted to, but there was so much in me that was scared to
trust anyone. The woman cocked her head and looked me up and down, as though
sizing me up for a final judgement.

“Name’s Honey,” she finally said, sticking out her hand.
Automatically, without really even thinking about it, I took her hand. Her grip
was firm, her eyes never left mine. This time, though, I didn’t feel like some
sort of prey in the eyes of a predator. Her look was far from welcoming, but at
least it wasn’t so…irritated.

“Gabriella,” I said, my mouth moving instinctually. We dropped our
handshake and I couldn’t think of a single other thing to say, or do.

“Well, if you want to wait, you can go on and have yourself a drink.
On the house. Tell ‘
em
Honey said so,” she said, now
turning away from me and back to the waifish girl who’d been waiting like a
spectator watching a tennis match. But before I could turn around, she turned
back, though this time she was looking just over my shoulder, a smile spreading
over her face.

“Did you think I forgot about you?” A voice suddenly said from behind.
A tired-sounding voice that was nonetheless immediately recognizable, even to
my addled mind.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the day where you got up after…what?
Three hours of sleep?” Honey said, leaning back in her seat, the girl beside
her once more relegated to the sidelines.

“Some things are more important than sleep, Honey,” Reign said. Even
before I turned, I could feel his presence like hands on my body, his voice
sending delicious tingles up my spine.
I’m
screwed if this happens every time I see him,
I thought.
I really never will leave this place…

He looked as handsome on no sleep as he had the night before, his long
black hair messy and shagging over his eyes. I’d forgotten how tall he was,
though, and as my eyes ran along his lean figure I felt another thrill,
something exciting and amorous waking up inside me.

No, no, focus now, Gabriella, you’re getting in
over your head because of everything else that’s happening, you have to stay
focused,
I thought.