Ride Hard (Raven Riders #1)

  His eyebrow lifted, and he gave her a slow up-and-down look that set her body on fire.

  “Now, Dare,” she said, her voice shaky but her mind made up.

  The approval that slid into his expression lit her up inside. He stepped out of his boots and the rest of his clothes until he stood gloriously naked in front of her. Tattoos—some pictures, some words—ran the length of his lean body, along with more than a few scars. His body was rugged, strong, utterly masculine.

  He retrieved something from the wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. And then he ripped open the little square wrapper and placed the rubber against his tip. As he rolled it on, he watched her watching him until she thought she might die of anticipation. And the fact that he’d thought of it—when her brain had barreled right past the consideration for protection—proved that she was entrusting this moment to the right man.

  God, Dare really was the right man. For her. Except—

  “Here?” he rasped, boxing her up against the wall again. The contact chased away her thoughts, especially as he pushed his erection between her legs and rubbed the thick head against her clit.

  She nodded and grasped his shoulder. Instinct had her sliding her leg up the outside of his until her thigh hooked on his hip. With one hand, he grasped her leg and helped hold it there, and with the other, he guided his blunt tip deeper between her legs until he was probing her entrance.

  “Now?” he asked, his eyes absolutely on fire.

  “Now,” she breathed, tilting her hips, aligning her need with his promise.

  “It’s been a long fucking time for you, Haven. Don’t let me hurt you,” he said.

  The words made her smile. “Just the fact that you said that makes me know you won’t.”

  “Jesus.” His hips thrust forward, just a little, but enough to impale her on his tip.

  She moaned and arched, her head falling back and her hips angling toward him. Wanting more. Needing all of him.

  “Fuck,” Dare bit out, the raw desperation of the curse making her wetter, allowing her to take more of him. And, finally, all of him.

  Dare was big, and it had been a long time, and the feeling of fullness and stretching was a little uncomfortable. But it was something more than that, too—it was . . . it was freedom. She was free, free to choose this, to choose him. “Oh, God,” she cried. “Move. Please move.”

  A big hand grasped her other thigh and hauled her up the wall, until Dare was all that held her up—his hands under her legs, his hips against hers, his cock deep inside her. A long withdraw and a slow, deep thrust had them both moaning.

  Haven wrapped her arms around Dare’s neck and held on as his strokes picked up pace, his hips withdrawing and returning faster, his breaths coming harder, a stream of groans and curses spilling out of that harsh, beautiful mouth.

  “Christ, Haven,” he ground out. He kissed her deeply—her mouth, her lips, her neck, and back to her mouth again. As he moved faster, they couldn’t hold the kiss. Instead, he leaned his forehead against hers and their hair made a curtain around their faces, his dark brown, hers lighter. And it made her feel like they were together against the world and no one could hurt her ever again.

  “Don’t stop,” she said. “Don’t stop. Never stop.”

  Dare pulled her off the wall and carried her to the vanity. “Not a chance,” he said, sitting her down on the granite between the double sinks.

  Haven braced her hands behind her, her head reclining back against the mirror.

  “Not a fucking chance,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.

  The new angle had his pubic bone grinding against her clit again and again. She gasped into the kiss.

  He pulled his lips away from hers and stared down to where his body penetrated hers. “Look how good we look,” he rasped, watching her watch him disappearing inside her. Again and again.

  Heat filled Haven’s cheeks even as she was absolutely fascinated by his movements, her slickness on his length, the wet sounds they made together. “It’s really . . . freaking . . . hot,” she said.

  One side of his mouth quirked up into a wicked grin. “It’s really fucking hot.” He arched a brow, as if challenging her.

  She looked down again just as he sank deep and his sack rocked against her butt cheeks.

  He planted his hand against her lower belly and stroked his thumb over her clit. Fast and firm. “Say it. Tell me how hot it is.”

  Haven’s mouth dropped open on a moan. “It’s really fucking hot,” she whispered, her gaze flashing back to his.

  “That’s right,” he growled, leaning in again to claim her mouth. His thumb continued to strum at her clit until she felt entirely overwhelmed by him—his mouth stealing her breath, his body pressing her down, his cock deep inside her. “You coming all over my cock would be even hotter,” he said, nailing her with a stare.

  Those words out of that mouth was like someone had taken a blowtorch to her skin. She flashed hot and felt herself get wetter, her heart ready to explode from her chest. His hips moved faster, his thrusts deeper, more pointed, rocking her whole body. All the while his thumb stroked her. And then he grabbed her ass in his hands, leaned over her, and lifted her up into his strokes so that his pubic bone ground into her clit on every mind-blowing thrust.

  “Come on me, Haven,” he rasped against her mouth. “Fucking come on me.”

  It was the hottest, wildest, headiest thing anyone had ever said to her. Sensation wound up inside her tighter and tighter until she was holding her breath and reaching and finally, finally coming all over him, her body fisting around his again and again. Her cry sounded tortured to her own ears, but then Dare was shouting and straining against her and holding her so tight it almost hurt. But it was the best thing she’d ever felt in her whole life.

  Everything she’d never even known she wanted. Something she already knew she would never be able to live without.

  “Beautiful, everything about you,” he whispered roughly against her cheek. Dark eyes flashed at her when he pulled away. “Stay right there.” He eased out of her and discarded the condom in the trash can, then he stepped to the big glass shower and reached inside to turn on the water.

  Haven missed his heat immediately but found herself absolutely fascinated by the huge tattoo covering most of his back—the same raven perched on a knife sticking out of a skull’s eye socket that appeared on all of the Ravens’ logos. An arch of capital letters sat above the image—RAVEN RIDERS. The ink covered a large scar that ran all down the right side of his back.

  He turned to her and helped her down from the counter. “You doin’ okay?” He pressed his lips against her temple.

  “Better than okay,” she said, oddly self-conscious given what they’d just done as he walked her to the shower. She gave him a shy smile, loving the tenderness softening the harsh angles of his face, but not sure whether she was reading too much into it. “Way better.”

  “Want to take care of you,” he said. “Come on.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Dare was fucking shell-shocked. There was no other way to put it. With her honesty, her bravery, her guileless pursuit of pleasure, Haven Randall had knocked him on his metaphorical ass. And he didn’t know what to do about any of it. Given that he was planning to send her away and all.

  He pulled Haven into the shower with him and moved her under the warm rushing water. He didn’t know what he was doing, or even exactly why he was doing it. Every bit of what was happening here fell into the category of firsts. Bringing a woman to his home instead of to the club. Seducing her in his private space. Wanting to take care of her, and maybe even be taken care of in return. Taking the risk of opening himself up, when he knew all the ways that could go wrong.

  Which was when it occurred to him that Haven wasn’t the only one with a list of things she wanted in her life—though of the two of them, she’d been the one brave enough to figure that shit out and go after it, whereas Dare felt a whole lot like he’d been stumbling around
in the dark his whole life.

  Until now.

  Until Haven.

  “It’s still raining,” she said, her gaze on the dark gray afternoon visible through the window as the water cascaded over her head. “I hadn’t even realized.”

  Dare arched a brow. “That’s good. Because I would’ve been doing a piss poor job of pleasing you if you still had brain cells left to think about the weather.”

  A shy grin rose up on her pretty face, and her eyes cut back to his. “I’d say I was well pleased.”

  The comment made him feel ten feet tall. After all the wrong that’d been done to her, Dare wanted to do right by Haven. In every way he could. Maybe he wasn’t good enough for her, or even good for her at all, given how screwed in the head he was about his past. But she seemed to want him, and as long as she did, he’d take care of her right.

  He stroked his hands over her wet hair, and she tilted her head back, exposing her throat. He couldn’t help but taste her there, to taste the water from her skin. She released a contented sigh that reached into his chest and poked at things not used to being poked at.

  His cock stirred against her belly. From the closeness. From her satisfaction. From everything she was making him feel and think and want.

  Tentatively, her hands grasped his sides. And slowly slid down until they paused on his hips. She brought her head upright, those beautiful blue eyes assessing and observing him.

  Dare grasped her right hand and slid it to his now erect cock, circling his hand around hers on his rigid length. Haven’s mouth dropped open. “You can touch me,” he said. “Any way, anything you want.”

  Her tightening grip ripped through him like an electrical current, hot and fast.

  “That’s it,” he said, bracing one hand on the shower wall over her shoulder.

  She licked her lips and looked down, watching herself pump him. Dare released her hand to let her set the pace, his arousal ratcheting up hard and fast despite the powerful orgasm she’d just pulled out of him. Haven might’ve been inexperienced, but she wasn’t prudish, and she wasn’t bashful when it came to sex and pleasure. And the combination of curious and eager was a fucking killer to his self-control.

  “I want to put my mouth on you,” she said.

  Case in point. Jesus. He tipped her face up and bored his eyes into hers. “Say that again.”

  Eyes hooded, lips glossy wet, her expression was filled with desire. “I want to put my mouth on you. Here.” She squeezed his cock at the base, sending a jolt of arousal through him. “I want to make you feel the same way you made me feel.”

  Hand in her hair, Dare kissed her hard. “Then suck me with that pretty little mouth.”

  Slowly, Haven sank to her knees onto the shower floor, her face coming up even with his jutting cock. She peered up at him through wet eyelashes, not even aware of how beautiful and brave and sensual she was. She grasped his cock by the base and bathed his head in a long, slow lick.

  “Fuck,” he rasped, one hand still braced on the wall, the other cupping the side of her head.

  She licked him until he was ready to beg for her to suck, but she beat him to it, wrapping her lips around his length and sliding down, sliding deep. The moan she unleashed shot right to his balls, making him want to rut and rock into her mouth. But he kept his hips still, letting her explore him and torture him with pleasure.

  Taking hold of his ass, Haven brought her face up tight, sucking him down, keeping him deep. Nothing about her approach was shy or reserved, which made him think she’d done this before. And he didn’t fucking care one bit as long as she kept burying his head in the back of her throat.

  For a long moment, she set a pace that had him fisting his hand in her hair, and then she pulled off, gasping for air and looking up at him with the most pleading expression. “Tell me what feels good to you.”

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s fucking phenomenal.” He dragged his thumb over her lips, and she caught it with her teeth. He pushed it into her mouth and she immediately sucked at his flesh, her eyes making it clear how turned on she was. By pleasing him.

  She took his cock deep again and got into a rhythm that alternated between fast and shallow and slow and deep. His thighs shook and his hand kept fisting and he could no longer keep his hips from pushing for more. Always more.

  “Gonna come,” he rasped, tugging at her hair.

  She popped free long enough to say, “I want it.” And then she took him deep and sucked him off until Dare was grasping her head and coming down her throat with a shout and a groan.

  When she finally eased off of him, he pulled her up and kissed her hard, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and stealing her breath. Like she’d stolen his. “You’re fucking good at that, you know it?”

  The smile that crept up her face was ridiculously cute. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Do it absolutely any time you want,” he said with a wink.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  They finally got down to getting clean. She did her thing and he did his, but in trading kisses and small touches and heated glances, it felt intimate, loaded, full of promise for something more. And Dare was down for that, because as long as the storm raged outside his house, he was keeping Haven here. In his sights, in his arms, and in his bed.

  Because when the rain cleared, the time they might have together would be counted in days at best. And that was hardly enough when he’d finally found a woman he wanted for longer, for more, and maybe even for everything.

  “YOU HUNGRY?” DARE asked when they were dried and dressed and downstairs again. He wasn’t sure how long any of those were going to last, given how sexy Haven looked wearing a pair of his boxers and his old Harley shirt knotted at her waist so it didn’t hang halfway down her legs.

  “Actually, I’m kinda starving.” She leaned her elbows on his kitchen counter. And damn if she didn’t look perfect there, hanging out with him in his house doing a whole lot of nothing in particular.

  Dare opened his wasteland of a fridge. Given how often Bunny cooked up at the clubhouse, he’d gotten into a routine of eating there with whoever showed up, or making himself the odd bowl of cold cereal here on the fly. Otherwise, his fridge was filled with beer, milk, condiments, and a package of hot dogs. “How ’bout I order a pizza?” he asked, turning to her. “You like that?”

  Haven nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What kind?” he asked, grabbing his cell.

  “I like just about anything, so whatever you want.” Her expression was totally open and honest, but something about the words still rubbed him wrong.

  “I want to know what you want, not what you’ll accept,” he said, giving her a pointed look.

  “Oh. Uh. I really like pepperoni and sausage,” she said, uncertainty slipping into her gaze.

  Dare leaned in for a deep, lingering kiss. “I really like when you tell me what you want.” He pulled away, arched his brow at her until she smiled and nodded, and dialed the phone. “Be here in thirty,” he said when he hung up.

  “Do you use your kitchen much?” she asked, her gaze taking in the room.

  He came up behind her and braced his hands on either side of her body. Leaned in and kissed the side of her neck. “Not nearly as much as I should.”

  She tilted her head, opening to him. “That’s a shame,” she whispered distractedly.

  “What would you make?” he asked, sucking on her earlobe.

  On a soft moan, she said, “Oh, everything. Fluffy pancakes and waffles for breakfast and grilled sandwiches for lunch and hearty pastas and grilled steaks for dinner.”

  He tugged the too-big neck of her shirt to the side, exposing her whole shoulder, and ran nipping bites all along the skin there. “And for dessert?”

  Haven shivered and leaned into him. “Chocolate cake made with real fudge and a layer of raspberry filling with mini chocolate chips in between. I’d cover it with a buttercream icing and decorate it
with big, thick shavings of chocolate.” She turned her face to his. “And peanut butter cookies, too, of course.”

  “Man, I’m hard just thinking about all that,” he said. And, truth be told, a little sad thinking about it, too. Because he’d lived alone so long he could hardly imagine what it would be like to live in a house that was actually alive. Hell, even the house he grew up in was weighed down by fear and tension more than lit up with anything that approximated life.

  “Is that so?” She pressed her ass more firmly against his crotch. “Oh, yes, I see.”

  Dare chuckled at her playfulness, loving to see it, given where she’d been a few weeks before.

  Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. “If just talking about what I could make causes all this, maybe we should see what happens if I actually made you a meal here sometime.”

  The idea did funny things to Dare’s chest. Suddenly, he could see Haven there in his kitchen. Wearing one of his big T-shirts over a pair of panties and nothing else as she cooked breakfast. Pulling a big tray of cookies out of the oven, and making the whole house smell like fucking heaven. He could see them there together. Eating. Living. Loving. “Yeah,” Dare said, getting caught up in his head. “We should definitely see about that.”

  Her smile sagged a little. “Maybe a farewell dinner before I go. Or something. To say thank you.”

  The cold, hard reality of her words pulled him out of his pointless thoughts. “Yeah.” He stepped away from her and grabbed a beer from the fridge. And was glad when the delivery guy showed up a few minutes earlier than expected.

  He paid the guy and turned toward the table to find Haven grabbing plates from a cabinet, as if she’d done it a hundred times before. And it lured more of those thoughts into his head. What was wrong with him? She had to leave. It was safest for her. Safest for his people, too. That’s where his head should be.

  “That smells good,” she said, sliding into a seat at the table.

  Dare set the box down and flipped open the lid. “It does. Dig in.” He waited for her to grab a slice before he took two for himself.