Read DAMON: A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel Online
Authors: Meg Jackson
“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.
H
ow 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.
“…
a
nd 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.
“I…” I started to say, wanting to apologize before I made a total fool of myself.
“Please, stop talking,” he said, moving across the room towards me, the look in his eyes silencing any thoughts that could have come tumbling from my mouth. His hands came to my shoulders and he looked down on me, as though I was the only thing he’d ever wanted. I shivered under his touch, under his gaze. “Sit down.”
I did so, without thinking, not taking my eyes from him. I was eye-level with his crotch, and automatically reached out to undo his belt and jeans, thinking that it was blowjob time. That’s how Jeremy always started things…
I was surprised to feel my hand swatted away, surprised to see Reign drop down before me, crouching in front of me, so that we were eye to eye.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his hands coming to my shirt and rolling it upwards.
“Please, no,” I said, suddenly shot through with another rush of shame over my body. I didn’t move to stop him, but felt like crying as he exposed my small but wide stomach, my large breasts, all the parts of me that had brought me so much shame. His eyes darted towards mine, almost seeming angry, then softening.
“You don’t even realize,” he said, a hint of astonishment in his voice. At the same time, his hands came to my hips once more, tickling up my sides, making me close my eyes and moan in pure ecstasy. I leaned backwards automatically, my body delighting in his touch even as my mind tried to make me feel bad about my body.
I barely felt as he unclasped my bra and threw it to the side, his hands now coming to my breasts and fondling them gently, much more gentle than Jeremy ever did. Unlike my husband, who just pawed at my breasts like they were pillows that needed fluffing, Reign’s hands massaged them, a growing warmth in my stomach as he gently pushed me back further onto the bed, rising even as my back fell, leaning over me.
Finally, I was lying on the mattress, eyes closed in bliss as his thumbs grazed my nipples, now erect. I shuddered, then moaned as I felt one of his lips come gently to my nipple, sucking it in slightly, his tongue rolling over it while his hand favored my other breast, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.