Duck (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 8) (8 page)

Without looking at him, still silent, she nodded again and he frowned at her lack of response. “Honey, if you don’t want to, it’s okay. We don’t—“

“I do want,” she said softly, interrupting him as she glanced up at his face. Her soft expression of confused hope and desire stunned him and he couldn’t say anything, simply nodded and closed her door. He stood for a moment, looking at her through the window, their gazes still on each other. He thought about their one night together and how right it felt to move from friends to lovers. How often he had pulled out those memories over the years, the thought of her enough to arouse him. Now, staring into her face, he wondered,
Why couldn’t she have loved me?

With that painful thought, he turned away, walked around the hood of the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. Without looking in her direction, he navigated the parking lot, pulling out into the busy street filled with traffic from local folks and tourists in town for the annual rodeo. Based on the no-vacancy signs on several of the motels, he expected there would be a near-record turnout for the shows. Driving through town, he looked around curiously. This was the first time he had left the ranch since coming in with Essa and he recognized more differences than similarity this time through.

“Y’all had much trouble with new folks in town?” he asked as they drove past a bar positioned on a corner in the center of town, only a couple blocks from Mitchell’s. There were more than two dozen bikes parked along the front of the building and he wondered what patches would be on display inside.

He hadn’t asked Mason to reach out to any local clubs yet, and since he didn’t have approval to be in town flying Rebel colors, wanted to be respectful of their territory. So, tonight he had on a blue jean vest, leaving his cut hanging in the closet.
I don’t even know which clubs call Lamesa home
, he thought, somewhat surprised at his lack of concern. A week ago, the club had been in his every waking thought; but since returning home, being near Brenda for the first time in more than a decade consumed him. That and the sheer weight of daily chores were enough to sweep club politics and drama right out of his head.

“Coyotes, more than anything,” Brenda said, staring out the window.

He grunted, following her gaze, seeing the flat, brown landscape that was West Texas. She didn’t mean animals. He knew the kind of coyotes she was talking about were of the two-legged variety, running illegals up the backroads to avoid border patrols, one of the things he never missed about home. Musing, he started talking, not sure where he was going with his words. “You know, when I first moved, everything up north looked so different. Illinois is flat, too, at least where I live. I’ve spent quite a bit of time in Indiana where it’s even more so, especially up by Fort Wayne where I’m at now. But, the differences were stark. It felt like a different country.

“The first time I went from Lamesa to Chicago, it was like I was a kid in the movie theater again, watching as the colors on the screen changed from black and white to the beautiful jewel shades of a dream. The crops up there were emerald green, endless across the landscape. In the fall, the tree leaves turn every color you could imagine, and the sparkling white of a winter snow is nearly impossible to describe.

“Even the buildings there are different, multi-level townhouses mixed in with old rambling two-story farmhouses, tall office buildings and stately courthouses. Steep, angled roofs intended to slough off the weight of snow. Beauty everywhere I looked, different and striking.”

She turned to look at him, a musing expression on her face as he continued. “But now I’m back? I see the beauty here, too. I’d nearly forgotten how things look. The way the land races far out to the skyline, the shifting pastel shades of sunrise bleeding out to a blue so bright it hurts your eyes. Here the palette is shifting tones of brown, and the buildings are flat-roofed structures designed to work with the harsh climate, nearly all a single story leaving the sky clear to be seen, horizon to horizon. Even the people, the way they talk? I didn’t know I’d missed it until I found myself surrounded by the music of their voices again, but I did.”

He twisted, looking over his shoulder to check traffic before changing lanes to turn into the drive-in theater, easing to a stop in the line. “I left because of family, stayed gone because of family, and now I’m back because I don’t have a family. Everything seems so big, Brenda. There. Here. Everywhere. So big it’s hard to describe how small it makes me.” There was heat and pressure on his leg and he glanced down to find her small hand resting on his thigh, her attempt to comfort and reassure him.

Shaking his head, he pulled on the steering wheel to lean forward, taking his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. Paying for their tickets, he tossed the leather wallet onto the dashboard and drove to a nearly empty field of metal posts, their tethered speakers hanging tidily from a holder on either side of each pole.

Laughing, he reached down and covered her hand with his palm, readily wrapping his fingers around it. “So you want close to the front, in the middle, or back by the snack shack?” Glancing around, without waiting for a response, he picked a parking space near the back, telling her, “They’ll start the show just after sundown. Lean back and relax. We’ll make sure you’re home in plenty of time to tell Eli good night, yeah? Half a movie is good enough for me.” She nodded and smiled her thanks at him, then kicked off her shoes and leaned back in the seat.

When she put her bare feet on the dashboard, that damn skirt of hers slipped up her thighs and he groaned silently. Turning her head, she looked at him and smiled again, “This is nice, Reuben. Thanks.”

“Much better than Mitchell’s with Steve getting his drunk on.” He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know what I was thinking, asking you to go with me.” When a look of hurt and uncertainty washed over her face, he mentally reviewed what he’d said, then shook his head.

“No, honey. I didn’t mean it that way. What I was trying to say is I should have taken you out for dinner and a real movie, not pretzels and beer in a rowdy bar, followed by half of a two-year-old drive-in show.” Gently squeezing her hand, softly he said, “I should have asked you on a real date. Wined and dined you. Done it up right. You’re worth it.” His throat tightened, dropping his voice to a whisper. “
God
. Sweeter and even more beautiful than I remembered. You take my breath away.”

“Oh.” The exclamation was soft, coming as she wrapped her fingers more tightly around his. Holding on.

Surprised at how his mouth was running on by itself tonight, he heard himself ask, “Do you ever think about that night, Bee?” His spontaneous question hung in the air for a moment while he waited, holding his breath in suspense. Then, when he saw her flush, bright pink embarrassment climbing into her face, he had his answer. Before she had a chance to respond, he told her, “I do, too. All the time. Never forgot a moment. Not a whisper…not a kiss.” He wondered suddenly,
What would she do if I kissed her right now?
Eyes locked on hers, he slowly shifted towards her on the bench seat of the truck, the weight of an eleven-year-old longing driving him on. “Took you with me everywhere I went, Bee. Everything I saw, I wanted to share with you.”

Finally close enough to touch her, he reached up and did just that, cupping his palm around her cheek, tilting her head towards his.
Her skin’s every bit as silky as I remember.
“Every word, every sound, all of you…branded in my brain,” he whispered, lowering his face. “Every touch, every taste, the feeling of your skin sliding against mine. Soft. Sweet. Beautiful.” Her blue eyes were bright, looking up at him, wide in what he prayed was wonder. “Is it wrong of me to want that again? Because I do, Bee. I want you. I never stopped.”

Covering her mouth with his, the kiss began soft and slow, a questing of lips alone, brushing and grazing tenderly, tasting the lip gloss she wore with a soft hum that she returned. Unhurried, he carefully built it, giving her every opportunity to pull back. He tried not to give in to the fear swelling inside him that she might not want him, but with every touch, he begged for a chance to take this farther, to prove what she meant to him.
Trust me, Bee.

Slipping his thumb up along her jawline, he traced the corner of her mouth, moving to follow the soft caress with the tip of his tongue. Kissing across her cheek to her temple, he pressed his mouth there, whispering, “My memory failed me, Bee. What I’ve been holding onto wasn’t this. This is so much more—exquisite.” He kissed her again. “Exceptional.” Caressing her cheek, he brushed his knuckles across her skin. “Far superior to my memories.
God
, Bee. What else is waiting for me on memory lane? What do you have waiting for me, honey?”

Placing his mouth next to her ear, he traced the shell with the tip of his tongue, then pulled her earlobe into his mouth, tenderly nibbling, listening to her breath catch and then speed up.
She wants this
, he thought,
wants me
. Gliding his hand down her neck to her shoulder on one side, he matched the movements with his mouth on the other, kissing across her collarbone to the point of her shoulder, then back to her neck. He groaned his approval when she arched into him, tilting her head to grant him greater access and he worked his mouth across her skin, gratified to hear the soft noises she made.

“Bee.” His voice was rough, the urgency of his need laid bare when he whispered her name. Bringing his mouth back to hers, he kissed her deeply, demanding a response. Leaning forward, he dipped into her mouth, finding her more than ready to work with him. Her tongue sliding along his, hungrily fighting for contact as her moan filled the cab of the truck. He swept his tongue across her lower lip, biting and nibbling softly, slowly pressing deeper as she opened to him.

With a groan, he slanted his head, control slipping for a moment and he feverishly kissed her, sucking on her tongue and eating at her as if he had been starving since the last time she’d given him this, given herself to him. Her soft whimpers and frantic movements under his touch brought him back to himself, even as he struggled for a moment to reel it in, wanting more. So much more.
Fuck. Slow it down
, he thought. Releasing her, he brought both of his hands up, cradling her face and using that trembling grip to break the kiss. Breathing hard, he tucked his chin towards his chest, resting his forehead against hers.

Fuck
.

When his eyes opened, she looked dazed, staring at him and he dropped down to kiss her again. This time, he took it slower, keeping his eyes wide to gauge her reactions. He groaned again when he saw profound desire in her expression, as dilated pupils and panting breaths showed the need surfacing in her, too. His whispering voice was hoarse with passion when he said, “No secret here, Bee. I want you. Never stopped wanting.”

She inhaled shakily and whispered, “Me, too.”

Surprised, he froze for a moment, then one corner of his mouth crooked up into what he knew was a grateful smile. Playfully wrinkling his nose at her, he sought confirmation of what he hoped was happening. “Does this mean our memory lane is a two-way street?” She nodded again, lips first pursing then flattening as she drew them into her mouth. “Okay, Bee,” he said, brushing his lips across hers, gently pursuing her before drawing back.

“You’re my pace car in this, and it isn’t a race. I’m not rushing to get to the finish line. I’m way more interested in going the extra mile. You tell me what you’re ready for, and I’m good with that. You want more, or I’m not moving fast enough? Tell me. You need me to slow down and back off the throttle? All you have to do is say so.”

He kissed her again, lovingly this time, lips questing across hers, tasting and exploring. Promising himself a lifetime of the same, he teased responses from her in the form of more soft whimpers in the back of her throat. Pulling back, he sucked in another deep breath, looking into her eyes. He liked what he saw there, her confidence and excitement, mixing with a deep arousal.
She needs to know what she means to me.
Leaning towards her, he trailed gentle kisses across her cheek, whispering, “Took you everywhere with me. Decided you’re worth the wait.”

Her mouth was so close to his ear, he felt as well as heard her take in a breath. As he kissed along her jawline, she moved and he was about to ask her what she wanted to say when a knock came at his window.

***

Reuben’s arms tightened around her as Brenda silently groaned.
Seriously? Every freaking time?
She had just been about to say she had something she needed to tell him. She tilted her head to look around Reuben to find Gill peering in the driver’s window, wearing a broad grin. Standing right there beside him with the darkest frown she had ever seen on his face was Eli.
Crap
. During their kiss, Reuben had slid across the width of the bench seat until he’d pressed her against the passenger door of the truck. A quick glance reaffirmed at least his hands had stayed above the waist, and her skirt still covered her modestly.

“Are you
fuck
ing kidding me?” Reuben’s gruff voice sounded angry in the cab of the truck and she winced, knowing their audience could hear his reaction. She pushed at his chest and he moved away, settling behind the wheel while she sat up and tried to compose herself. With short, angry movements he yanked at the handle to open the door, forcing the duo outside to take one long step backwards.