REIGN: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (5 page)

He just feels bad for you because of that knocker
on your forehead,
I told myself.
There’s no way someone like him could like
someone like you, you cow. Besides, what, are you
gonna
hop into bed with the first guy who’s nice to you? Slut.

Shut up, Jeremy,
said that other voice, that new voice, the voice
that I was starting to like quite a bit.
Go
for it, Gabriella. Seal the deal. Make the break complete. When’s the last time
Jeremy looked at you with half the interest this guy’s showing? You deserve to
feel good for once. Drink up.

I was as torn as I’d ever been in my life. But what the hell. I’d dug
my grave deep enough, in my opinion, and one drink wasn’t going to get me out –
or dig me any deeper. I smiled back at the handsome stranger, waved, and took
another sip, this time hoping I looked coy and demure and grateful.

I was rewarded by a nod – and then thrown into a panic when the man
rose from his place at the bar and came to my side. I desperately swabbed at my
greasy lips, cursing myself for having ordered the most disgusting thing on the
menu.

I gulped at the drink, needing liquid courage.

Needing any courage I could get my hands on.

That “Jeremy” voice inside me was still screaming at me for being
stupid, for being silly, slutty, pathetic, worn-out, ugly, fat…

“What’s a pretty gal like you doing in a place like this,” the
stranger asked as he approached me, leaning into the seat next to mine. I’m
pretty sure I responded, but I think it was just a strangled, choking sound.

He was even better looking up close.

I could make out the hint of tattoos crawling up his neck from the
deep V of his shirt, and across the backs of his hands. His leather jacket was
adorned with patches. One larger than the others, said “Black Smoke MC”.

His eyes fell on the bruise above my eye, his brow furrowing, his hand
coming up to brush it gently. His touch was like being electrified. Perhaps it
was the boldness of the motion; we didn’t even know each other’s
names,
but he’d already made contact
with me; a very sensitive part of me, to boot. Perhaps it was the way I was
looking at his lips as he did it, his pouty, gorgeous lips. Perhaps it was the
booze, or the leftover adrenaline from my rather eventful day. Whatever it was,
it sealed my fate, even though I didn’t know it at the time.

“Got something to do with this?” he’d asked when he’d brushed his
fingers against my forehead. My mind dragged behind him, trying to figure out
what he was asking, the small amount of alcohol I’d had mingling with the
unusually fatty and carbohydrate-laden meal I was eating to create a general
feeling of confusion in me. Alright, so I was confused for more reasons than
just the booze and burger, but I didn’t want to admit it at the time.

“It’s a birthmark,” I blurted out, flinching even as I said it. Of all
the stupid excuses I’d made for the marks Jeremy left on me, that was, without
a doubt, the stupidest to ever cross my lips. The stranger’s eyebrows raised in
half-amusement, half-concern.

“Is that so?” he said, his voice low and sultry. I gulped down more of
my drink, realizing with no small dismay that it was the last gulp – I’d downed
the whole thing in a matter of minutes. And for someone who never drank…well,
you can imagine how that might have affected me. I felt warm all over, and
suddenly a lot friendlier.

“Actually, no,” I said, hearing the slightest slur in my words.
What are you doing, Gabriella?
One part
of me asked.

Getting what I fucking want for once,
said that other voice, that new voice. And even
if my real voice was slurring, that voice seemed straight sober.

“That’s exactly the reason I’m here,” I heard myself say. “I’m
ditching the guy who did it.”

“Well, if I ever heard something that called for a damn drink, that’s
it,” the stranger said, flashing me another crooked grin. They have yet to
invent a word to describe what happened in my pants, or my surprise at the
feeling. He pounded on the bar, attracting the attention of the bartender and
making an “another” gesture with his hand. She obliged, but not without a sour
look in his direction. He offered me his hand, not turning to me, snaking his
hand underneath his shoulder in a nonchalant way that was confusingly suave.

“Reign,” he said. “Like a king, not the weather.”

“What?” I asked, stupidly, taking his hand in a limp shake that belied
the sharp, short shock that went through me when we touched.

“My name,” he said, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I
could only make out one side of his face, but I could see the grin on him
stretching from ear to ear. I blushed.

“Gabriella,” I said.
Gabby,
said
that new voice in me. But not yet; I couldn’t, not yet.

I have another confession to make, dear reader. Jeremy was not only my
first and only husband, and the first and only man I’d ever let raise his hand
against me, he was also my first and only lover.

And in the five years we’d been sleeping together, he’d never once
made me come.

He’d gotten me close, a few times, but he seemed to enjoy keeping me
in a perpetual state of sexual limbo. For that matter, I’d never been one to
masturbate. That, at least, had nothing to do with Jeremy.

I’d just always wanted to be able to orgasm with someone I loved, and
I thought that if I masturbated I might “desensitize” myself to that sort of
touch. Even when it became clear, throughout the marriage, that Jeremy was
never going to give me the sort of release they write about in romance novels
and talk about in Cosmo, I didn’t think it was going to help the situation if I
took it upon myself to get the job done.

At 27, you could say I was long overdue for it.

And what I’d felt when the stranger touched me, when he looked at
me…that spark, like a shaft of light jolting through me, told me that even though
I had just met him, and certainly didn’t love him, he had the potential to give
me what Jeremy never had.

And that new voice inside me was hungry for it.

“Hey,” the stranger said, turning to me somewhat abruptly from the
bar. “If you had a theme park, what kind would you have? What would the theme
be, rides and stuff?”

I drew a deep breath in surprise. What kind of question was that?
Especially after…well, it didn’t seem like quite the normal response to an
admission like mine.

“Well…I don’t know. Um…” I said, brain stuttering along. He was
looking at me patiently, a smile on his face that just begged to be returned.
So I did. You know how they say that when you’re not happy you should just
smile, and it will fool your brain into feeling happy? I can attest to that,
from that experience. Smiling at him put me at ease, made it okay that I was
totally blindsided by his question and must have seemed pretty stupid as I
racked my brain for a clever answer. Everything, it seemed, was easy with this
guy.

~
5
~

How many stories start by spotting someone across a bar? Taking a
chance on them? Maybe just for the night, maybe for a night and a morning, but
maybe…

Reign watched the girl, who was clearly enjoying the absolute hell out
of her burger. Enjoying it so much, you’d think she’d never had red meat or
cheese before. She had beautiful, long black hair that waved gently around her
face, which just seemed so damn…kissable. She was a thicker girl, but that only
made him like her more. A lot more. He thought about what it would be like to
run his hands down her sides, pry open her beautiful, soft thighs…

He couldn’t see, in the dimness and the distance, the welt above her
eye that would, soon, tell him everything he needed to know about how she’d
come to be there.

He could only see her expression of unadulterated pleasure as she ate,
like a child indulging in a stolen cookie from the cookie jar, the way she
closed her eyes, breathed through her nose, with each bite. He bit his own lips
reflexively.

I’d like to take a bite of you,
he thought, watching her, hoping his energy would
reach her somehow. It didn’t, obviously, but he wasn’t shy. There was no reason
to be shy. If she rejected him, so what? If she didn’t…

Well, they’d both have a hell of a night. He’d make sure of it.

And who knew? Maybe it wouldn’t just be a night…

But Reign shook that possibility from his head, knowing that, just
like every other girl who came in and out of his life, she would just be around
for a while. And what did he want some girl clinging around him for, anyway? He
didn’t need an old lady. Not yet.

Though he wondered how she’d look in leather, hair windblown as they
rolled down the highway…

“Honey,” Reign said, calling to the bartender who’d served the girl
her burger. “I
wanna
buy that girl a drink. What do
you think? Rum and coke?”

“
Ummm
, anything virgin’s more like it,
buddy. She’s jumpy as a jackrabbit on a coke binge, and twice as cagey,” Honey
said, her disapproval of Reign’s choice for the night coming through her eyes.

“Make it a strong rum and coke, then,” Reign said, rapping on the bar
and shooting her a “don’t-stick-your-nose-in-this” look. Honey shrugged and
made the drink, delivering it to the girl, who looked surprised, then nervous,
then embarrassed. She looked over in Reign’s direction, and he saw the
unmistakable flicker of “holy shit” that crossed her face.

And then the wave.

And then, locked in like a photon torpedo, he made his move.

As he got closer and her face grew clearer, he saw the bruise above
her eye for the first time. She was guzzling the drink heartily; that didn’t
necessarily make him happy to see, since he preferred to spend his time with
girls who could actually think for themselves and weren’t puking on their
shoes, but as his mind put together the puzzle pieces (the way she’d been
eating, the bruise, her very presence in the bar in the first place), he
thought she needed that drink more than even she knew.

She’d need a lot of things.

And even if she refused some of what he wanted to offer, the sexy
stuff, he knew he’d still want to help her get what she needed in any way he
could.

After all, he’d been in much the same place as her when he’d come to
Ditcher’s Valley, all those years ago. Running away from a broken home where
fists flew more often than kisses. And he’d been lucky to be taken in, taken
care of, set back on his feet and given the chance to find himself, be happy.

And he was interested in paying that forward, whenever he could.

Starting with another drink for Ms. Gorgeous Runaway over here. And
maybe a touch that wouldn’t hurt, if she’d let him.

He hoped, harder than ever as he took in her voluptuous body, that she
would.

~
6
~

“…and a bike ride on Mars thing, with a Led Zeppelin laser show, you
know, anti-gravity bike riding in space.
Gravitron
,
of course. And…a Martian photo booth. Martian laser tag, maybe you have to
fight evil aliens who want to eat you. A zero-gravity bar, powdered vodka and
all that shit. Anti-gravity sex room!”

“Stop, stop, please! Reign’s Grown Up Space Camp…I can’t!” I said,
snorting, acting quite unladylike, my hand over my mouth to try and control
myself. I almost thought I was going to wet my pants from laughing so hard.

“So, Reign, you’re what, 27? 28? I’m good at guessing ages,” I said once
I’d calmed down enough to stand up straight. We were standing outside the bar,
enjoying the evening, so much warmer than I was used to up in the Rockies.

He was smoking a cigarette; I was half-drunk and eying the cigarette
somewhat enviously. I’d been a smoker when I met Jeremy and, you guessed it,
had quit upon his suggestion. I enjoyed being a non-smoker, didn’t miss it
much, but, hell, I’d broken all my other rules that night, and a smoke sounded
like as good a way to keep the train rolling as any.

It had been so long since someone asked me so many questions about
myself, seemed to care about the answers. Laughed at my jokes. Smiled at me.

Don’t I sound desperate as hell? Would it make it any better if I told
you that I wouldn’t have been talking to him at all if he wasn’t also so damn
handsome, as well as charming? I mean, this would be any girl’s dream
regardless
of the circumstances. That
crooked, boyish grin, that easy laugh…trust me, ladies, if you’d been in my
shoes you’d hold your judgement.

“Close, 29,” he said. He seemed to notice where my eyes were lingering
and held his pack of cigarettes out to me; Parliaments, my old brand. It was
fate! I laughed as I felt my hand go up to the offered pack, certainly not
responding to any conscious demand from my brain. But why not? I was feeling
good; two drinks in, hamburger slowly digesting in my stomach, a handsome man
at my side, why not? I let him light the cigarette for me, began to cough
violently as soon as I took the first drag.

“Been awhile?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he tried to hide
amusement. I let him off the hook, laughing at myself. God, it felt good to
laugh.

“Five years,” I croaked, smoke still streaming from my mouth and
nostrils. The second drag, though, went down okay, even if it felt a little
scratchy. By the third, I remembered how good a cigarette felt combined with a
few drinks. The fourth, I was considering buying my own pack. But, I knew that
was a dangerous path to go down, Jeremy or no Jeremy. Smoking in 2015 seemed as
stupid as drinking while pregnant. I stubbed out the cigarette, only a little
disappointed.

“He make you quit?” Reign suddenly asked, his smile fading as he
brought up Jeremy. I’d told him the bare minimum: cop husband, me on the run.
We’d changed the subject quickly. This wasn’t the time or place to linger on
the past – even the very, very recent past.

The mere mention of “him” actually drove a cold stake through my
heart, made the night seem a little chillier, bristled the hair on my arms. I
wasn’t safe yet. I was still in the States, not far enough away. I still had my
damn car. Maybe he already knew where I was…maybe he was headed there right
now…and I was, what, drinking and flirting with a stranger?
Real fucking smart, Gabriella. Just sit like
a damn duck in a frozen pond.

“Shit, sorry,” Reign said, picking up on the change in my mood. “I
didn’t mean to drag you down.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you, uh, you gave me a little wake-up call is
all,” I said, my words coming out slow and heavy as my brain imagined all the
horrible things that would happen when he found me. If he found me. When he
found me. If/when.

“You know, you don’t have to be afraid of him, not here, at least,”
Reign said, cocking his head to the side.

“And why’s that?” I asked, distracted by my own brain, barely even
registering what he was saying.

“Just…trust me. Anyone like him, he’d not be welcome here. Cop or no
cop, he doesn’t have any sway around these parts,” Reign said, suddenly moving
a bit closer. I responded by backing up.
You
don’t know Jeremy,
I thought.

“Really, I mean it. If you haven’t figured it out yet, everyone in
that bar is looking out for each other. And we’ll look out for you, too, if you
need us to,” Reign said, his eyes seeming to grow deeper with each word. I
wanted to believe him, wanted to believe those gorgeous eyes, but I’d just met
him. And he’d just met me. He just wanted to get into my pants, anyway.

“Yeah, okay, well, I should probably…” I said, starting to turn away,
meaning to end this madness, go to my room, sleep until I was sober and get
back on the road. He stopped me, grasping my arm. Oh god, the feel of his hand
on my bicep…Jesus Christ. It was a light grip, not forceful, but it sent
shivers throughout my entire body, seemed like electricity coursing through me.

“How’d you do that?” I blurted out, turning to face him, the alcohol
only adding the confusion I felt about my body’s reaction to his touch.

When’s the last time Jeremy grabbed your arm
without leaving a bruise,
I thought.

“Do what?” Reign said, cocking his head once more, his expression
increasingly concerned. I shook my head, as though I could physically shed the
feeling that his touch had left me with. A fluttering, heart-racing feeling. A
warm feeling.

A safe feeling. An exciting feeling.

“Nothing, nothing, I just…I drank too much,” I said, pulling my arm
away and rubbing at the spot he’d touched.

“No, you didn’t. Something happened. After I mentioned him. You’re
afraid, and you shouldn’t be. Every moment you spend afraid of him is another
moment he wins,” Reign said, our conversation no longer the lighthearted frolic
of getting-to-know-you it had been.

“Well, sorry, it’s just all happening so quickly,” I said, getting
defensive. “And I’m not safe. He could be tracking my car. I need to…I need to
get out of the States. I need a new car, and I need to get to Mexico.”

“We can get you a car,” Reign said.

“Why? Why would you want to do that? Why are you even talking to me?
Why do you want to help me?” I asked, my mind trying to make sense of him. This
strange, stunning, charming, man before me, like another of the day’s bizarre
gifts from God, who seemed to only want to help me. It wasn’t what I’d ever
expected from life, to find kindness in a stranger. Not, at least, since Jeremy
had come into my life. “You just want to bang me!”

Reign suddenly smiled, seeming almost like he was stifling laughter.
My heart fell.
Of course he doesn’t want
to bang you, you
fatass
. He just watched you scarf
down a burger, and look at him! He’s a goddamn God! And you? You’re…you’re just
a fat girl with a black eye.

“Well, you
ain’t
too far off. I mean,
there’s a reason I bought you that drink. But I want to help you because I know
where you are. I been there, too. Takes one to know one, as they say. I’d help
you no matter what. If I was lucky enough to get to see you in your birthday
suit, well…that’d just be a bonus for me,” he said. His eyes told me that he
was being truthful. I blushed, now embarrassed, and more than a little turned on
by the idea of being naked with him.

I hadn’t felt turned on in a long, long time.

And why shouldn’t you feel turned on? He’s hotter
than Jeremy by a country mile, and he’s interested in you. Shit, Gabby, you
better take his hand right now and drag him straight to your motel room. If you
don’t, you’ll regret it forever. This is your clean break. Make it a little
dirty, why don’t you? For once in your life…

Do what you want.

My heart was pounding, my face flushed. Was I really going to…was this
really…he kept
looking
at me, just
looking,
like I was a piece of pie he
wanted to slather in whipped cream, like I was worth looking at. I could feel
my pussy responding to his gaze, melting under his blue eyes…

“Come to my room,” I said, the words flying from my mouth before I
even realized I was saying them. One hand automatically came to cover my lips
as they gaped open, a comical “o”. Reign’s eyebrows raised once more, a grin
coming over his face, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t think you thought that through,” he said, as though speaking
to a foolish child. Which is exactly how I felt as I stood there blushing.

“I don’t…I’m sorry…” I stuttered through my hands, just about ready to
crawl under a rock from mortification.

“Don’t apologize,” Reign said, the grin fading from his face as he
looked at me, eyes slowly growing darker. “Unless you mean to take it back.”

He stepped closer to me, his hand coming up once more to my bicep,
this time stroking the flesh there softly, making my chest constrict, all the
air seeming to leave my body, my hair standing on end. I’m pretty sure I made a
sound, unintentionally, a soft mewling sound.

I didn’t mean to take it back. I meant to take it further.

In a blind rush, I grabbed for him, acting on instinct alone, my palm
against the back of his neck, under the wisps of curling hair that fell around
his shoulders, pulling him in towards me until his lips landed on mine. He
tasted like sweet honey and whiskey and smoke and everything free.

Something inside of me broke in two.

His hands came to my hips, pulling me into him, and I parted my legs
automatically, without thinking. I wanted to wrap them around him right then,
rub my pussy against him. I hadn’t felt myself so alive, so aroused, in years.
As his tongue danced in my mouth, I felt his thigh press gently between my
knees, inviting me to move closer to him.

I did, my own tongue now tentatively darting into his mouth, tasting
him. With my eyes closed I felt him press his leg upward, between my thighs,
and moaned into his mouth, my body trembling as it flooded with desire for the
first time in so long. My clit jumped as the tough denim of Reign’s jeans
pressed against the thin fabric of my leggings, then strained forward, wanting
more.

With a sudden grunt, Reign pulled back, his hands remaining on my
hips, his eyes looking down into mine, all fire and need.

“Are you sure?” he said, his voice low and rough, almost like a caress
in my mind. It drew another burst of shivers from my body. I nodded, unable to
speak, only wanting to taste him on my lips once more. But I didn’t have the
chance; at least not then. He grabbed my wrist, pushing me away while
simultaneously pulling me along the side of the bar towards the motel rooms
lined up side-by-side.

“Seven,” I said, breathless, mind turned into a lightning storm,
clouded and tempestuous. I could barely remember my own name, but I could
remember my room number perfectly well. Reign looked back at me as he pulled me
forward, my feet stumbling over themselves in my agitated state.

As though suddenly remembering the bruise above my eye, and what that
could mean, he slowed down, letting me catch up to him, and we walked abreast
to the room, his arm coming around my waist and sending little tendrils of
excitement through me.

I dropped the keys trying to open the door, then took too long trying
to get the key to fit the lock. Meanwhile, Reign was being categorically
unhelpful by tracing his tongue along my neck, planting feathery light kisses
across my skin. A part of me wanted to cry.
What
have I been doing all my life, why have I waited so long to feel so good, why
couldn’t Jeremy make me feel like this?

Finally, I managed to get the door open and we stumbled in. I
automatically turned off the light that I’d left on, but Reign turned it back.

“I want to see your beautiful body,” he said. I was standing in front
of the bed, at a loss now that we were here. I hadn’t really let myself plan
that far ahead. What did I do now? I hadn’t ever been with anyone with Jeremy.
I knew what he liked, knew his desires better than I even knew my own, but not
this stranger. Not this mysterious, sexy, intoxicating stranger. I didn’t know
where to begin, and I felt panic rising in my chest as I worried about
disappointing him, about not performing up to his standards.