Jerk: Delinquent Rebels MC (23 page)

Well, not normal.
Seeing April again didn’t make him feel normal—far from it. He felt queasy seeing her, his palm sweaty and his knees weak. It was like falling in love with her all over again, only before he’d done it gradually, over the course of a few months like a normal romance. This was different. The feelings had always been there while he was locked away, but he’d pushed them deep down; they didn’t do him any good where he was anyway. But as soon as he saw her standing there, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, her cheeks red from the cold, all those feelings surged back to the surface again, nearly knocking him off his feet.

If she hadn’t caught him, he would have fallen.

It made sense that she was unsure around him. He’d just escaped from behind bars, after all. He was a felon, an escaped one at that, and he’d dragged her into this. April could have stayed away easily and not gotten her hands dirty, and yet she returned to Cascade Falls to see the plan through. On their brief pit stop at a gas station, where Van was given a bag of chips and a soda, Rabbit had told him that it was April’s persistence that made the plan to spring him loose really come together. She’d been passionate about ensuring his freedom: he could hear it in her voice, apparently. See it in her eyes.

Just knowing that…made everything worth it. April had fought for him, just like he knew she would, and he wouldn’t—couldn’t—ask for anything more from her. She’d given him a lot just by coming back to Cascade Falls, just by being there when Rabbit opened up the back of the delivery truck.

It would be tough as hell, but Van could give her space if she needed it. They were technically broken up anyway, and for all he knew, she could have found a new guy over the last few months, and only really came back because she felt sorry for him. It wasn’t like they kept up a steady correspondence or anything.

All he wanted to do was press his lips to hers and swallow her whole. He wanted to consume her, to breathe her in. Throw her on the plush king-sized bed. Fuck her as she clawed at his back and screamed in pleasure. However, he had to restrain himself—that much he knew. They hadn’t talked about much while she prepared the light meal for him, and he didn’t want to push her away by coming on too strong. He could be her friend. Technically, after all, they were family now. If she didn’t want him back, he’d have to learn to keep his desires sedated whenever they were around each other.

Maybe he should have taken a cold shower instead of a hot one.

Nah.
Too many cold showers over the last few months—he’d earned a hot one.

It wasn’t until his fingers started to prune that Van finally decided it was time to get out. Begrudgingly, he turned off the water and grabbed the towel hanging on the nearby rack, then he rubbed himself down quickly. A glance in the mirror showed him exactly what he’d been seeing for months—though out of the prison’s harsh lighting, he didn’t look quite as sickly. It must have been a shock for April to see him like this: he’d gone from peak physical fitness when she’d last seen him to…
this
. Slim but not skinny, his body had devoured a lot of his muscle, and it would take time to get back to where he wanted to be.

Sighing, he brushed his teeth with the borrowed brush and paste he found under the sink, all wrapped and waiting like they were there just for him. Towel around his waist, Van strolled back into the master bedroom, which was the only bedroom in the cabin connected to a bathroom. On a good day, the cabin could hold about fifteen people, with the top floor full of tiny bedrooms and single beds—and then the master suite, which Van assumed everyone fought over when groups came up here to stay the weekend.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he found April sitting on the bed. Her legs dangled over the edge, wrapped in a tight pair of dark jeans, looking long and gorgeous. She’d probably come straight from the Thanksgiving feast at his dad’s place; his stomach gurgled at the thought, a little bitter about missing out on a plate of turkey and gravy. Still, he was just happy not to be eating prison food anymore. His eyes wandered upward quickly, hoping that he wouldn’t look like a total creep, as he took in the way her white sweater hugged her waist and clung to her breasts. A gold chain hung around her neck, though it was delicate and dainty, like it would snap if he so much as plucked at it.

When his eyes met hers, he immediately realized he wasn’t the only one enjoying the view. She blushed a dark crimson when she was caught ogling him, her gaze wandering down his body before quickly darting back to his face.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she told him, as he sauntered toward the bed.
Good God was she ever beautiful.
Stunning, especially in the soft lighting from the nearby bedside lamp. April sat up a little straighter the nearer he drew. “I figured I’d… sleep in one of the other bedrooms.”

“You can have this bed,” he offered. After all, he was used to sleeping on a tiny, hard board; any bed, big or small, would be a luxury. She shook her head, her strawberry-blonde hair fluttering around her face, framing it. He wanted to cup her cheeks and drag her into a kiss—his hands balled into fists instead.

“No, this bed is definitely the comfiest,” she insisted, as she stood, her arms crossed over her chest. “Seriously, I’ve tested all the other ones while I was waiting… This… You deserve this one.”

Shooting him a small smile, she turned and was just about to make her way out—until Van grabbed her arm. It wasn’t a harsh grab, but he held her firmly enough to keep her from leaving. In that moment, he couldn’t stand to see her go. Forget what he’d said before about giving her time and space. The tension between them was electric: it lit up the room with no more than a few short words. April let out a soft breath, facing him with a raised eyebrow.

“Van…”

“We don’t have to talk,” he whispered heatedly. “We should, but we can do it some other time. Tomorrow. After. Doesn’t matter when.”

She licked her lips before biting down on her plump lower lip, and that all but sealed the deal. Throwing caution to the wind, he dipped his head down and kissed her. Softly at first, not wanting to scare her, but before long, it was hard to restrain the passion. She’d been out of his arms for too long. How many dreams had he had with the two of them together again? How often had he woken up with a frustrating half-hard cock after she’d danced across his mind while he slept? Van had missed her—desperately, more than he would ever admit to anyone—and he wasn’t about to let her walk away now.

It took her a few moments to respond, her body stiff in his arms, her lips unmoving. But then, at the blink of an eye, her soft body melded against his, her hands sliding up his chest to thread through his thick hair. A soft moan escaped her when he deepened the kiss, their tongues sliding over one another’s without a hint of tentativeness. It became apparent in that moment, as she arched against him, her body rubbing over his steadily hardening dick, that it wasn’t just him who’d missed her. April had missed him too; she didn’t need to say it aloud for him to know. Everything she needed to say was said in her kiss.

He wouldn’t be able to last long tonight, but in their frenzied movements, neither seemed to mind. Soon enough, his towel was tossed on the ground, and he let out a hiss when her hands wrapped around his solid length. Pumping up and down, April moved with careful precision, as if they’d done this exact same thing last night—like it was their usual routine. The thought made his chest tight: Van
wanted
it to be their usual routine. He wanted to wake up each morning and look at her, to see her smile and laugh. Hell, he’d even take her bad moods, too.

All he wanted was April.

Unable to hold back for much longer, Van sloppily freed her of her clothes, their naked bodies soon falling onto the bed, limbs entwined and mouths pressed together in desperate need. She didn’t hold back tonight, didn’t keep her sounds to herself. Each moan made his cock twitch. Each heady sigh made his heart hurt.

Sliding a hand between her thighs, he found her hot and ready for him, but he couldn’t help himself: making her come with nothing more than a pair of fingers had always given him a bit of a thrill—and a deep-seated sense of pride. Her back arched, as he thrust his fingers between her slick folds, pumping in and out as they lay side-by-side, finding that spot along her inner walls that always made her writhe.

Van wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t last long tonight. In a matter of minutes, she was crying out, her skin flushing in that familiar way it always did whenever she’d reached her climax. Van smothered her cries with a kiss, rubbing her clit to prolong the pleasure. When her breath started to slow, he settled between her thighs and pushed into her, meeting no resistance, sliding right into her slick, tight channel until their bodies collided.

April whimpered his name, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers drawing little shapes on his back. He took her slowly at first, enjoying the feel of her body wrapped around him again, but it proved to be incredibly difficult to continue on like that for long. Before he was even aware of it, he was slamming into her over and over again. It had been too long since he’d felt her, since he’d buried himself deep inside of her. Van wanted to consume her, to make her his all over again, and with the way she clung to him, he couldn’t help but wonder if she felt the same.

Her second climax was less of an affair, clearly smaller and not as powerful as the first, but the look in her eyes touched him somewhere deeper. Groaning, he clenched his eyes shut and buried his face in the crux of her neck and shoulder, his pace stuttering out of control until he finally spilled himself into her. He slumped down onto her as he saw stars, all of his muscles like liquid for a few short moments, as pleasure pulsated through him. Finally, as if only then remembering where he was and who he was crushing, he rolled off her, chest rising and falling steadily, as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

They stayed next to one another in silence for a long while afterwards, a comfortable silence blanketing them. Outside, the snow had started falling again, thick, fluffy flakes painting a nearby window.

“I know you just had a shower,” she said finally, her voice soft and a little cautious, “but how do you feel about grabbing another one?”

As difficult as it was, Van was careful not to let his smile grow too big as he nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

Shifting off the bed, April held out her hand to him, waiting, and without a second of hesitation, Van grabbed it. Their fingers threaded around one another’s, and it felt right to have her smaller hand in his palm again—that was where it belonged.

And this was where
he
belonged. By April’s side. With her, all his worries fell away. He didn’t think about the fact that on this Thanksgiving, he’d become an escaped convict, or that someone out there was trying to beat him senseless. He just thought about her. He lost himself in her. Over and over again. Well into the morning.

All the while knowing that first light would change things, and even as they fell asleep, warm and nestled against one another, Van couldn’t be sure if the change would be for the better.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

April awoke with a deliciously pleasant soreness between her thighs and a warm body beside her in bed. She hadn’t meant to spend the night at the cabin, and when she’d opted to at the last possible moment, she told herself that she
had
to sleep in one of the smaller bedrooms. It didn’t matter which uncomfortable single bed she took, as long as she wasn’t sleeping next to Van. They weren’t ready for anything. Hell, they could barely have a conversation about nothing without it being awkward.

Yet, they’d done so much more last night than have a conversation about nothing. Repeatedly, in fact. Over and over again she’d fallen into Van’s arms, forgetting all the baggage they had in order to just enjoy herself with him. It had felt so good—so right—to have him between her thighs again, to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and to sink her nails into his back. In fact…

As silently as she could, she rolled over and scanned his exposed back, biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling when she spied a few lingering marks around his shoulder blades that she’d left with her nails. Thin red lines. Without thinking, she reached forward to trace them then pulled back when Van stirred. Her heart started to pound, as he rolled over to face her, and in those few possibly long seconds, all her fears and worries came hurdling back. Before he opened his eyes, she quickly darted out of bed and locked herself in the bathroom.

Luckily for him, all it took was a splash of cold water on her face to bring her back to her senses. Just because she didn’t want to dive back into a relationship with him right away didn’t mean they couldn’t interact at all. There were things April loved about Van that were beyond the physical realm; she could still enjoy all those things. They were less dangerous than touching, certainly.

However, once she was back in the room, she was lost to the look in his eye. He beckoned her back to bed with a nod and an extended arm, and they soon fell straight back into one another’s embrace. They hadn’t talked about
them
. She had no idea what Van was thinking as he kissed her, caressed her, ran his tongue along the soft crest of her breast, and wrapped his mouth over her nipple.

And a part of her didn’t care. She could sit in the dark for just a little while longer.

Instead of the frenzied, heated lovemaking they engaged in last night, April rode him lazily, cradled in his arms as his hips rose to meet hers. Foreheads touching, morning breath forgotten, they kissed and nibbled and lavished each other with sweet, sleepy affection until they’d both succumbed to the pleasure—April first, Van following shortly after. That was the only time he handled her roughly, thrusting forcefully into her, as she rode out her orgasm and Van came inside her with a groan. Sweetness was nice—and appreciated—but there was something about being manhandled by him that always left her wanting more.

However, once was enough. Maybe they both sensed it, and they both headed for a strictly platonic shower together before heading downstairs for something to eat. In her flighty panic, April hadn’t thought to pack anything more than the cans of beans and bread she’d given him last night, and she smiled when she opened the fridge. Clearly Mike—because Rabbit didn’t strike her as the caring sort—had been by earlier that morning with all the essentials. Wordlessly, she pulled out a carton of eggs and got to work on some fried eggs and toast. Van, meanwhile, set the table, glasses and cutlery clinking in the background.

Once the meal was served, they sat eating for a few minutes in silence, nothing but the crunch of toast and the slurp of coffee heard aside from the soft background noise of the radio.

“We should probably talk,” Van said finally, and her throat suddenly seemed too dry to get her latest bite down. April managed but with some effort before taking a large gulp of her coffee. “April—“

“We should talk,” she agreed, nodding, “but about something else first. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

He slowly set his mug down, and then he leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the table. “Okay.”

Where to start?
She’d rehearsed this speech in her head so many times, but now that the spotlight was on her, she froze. Shaking her head, she cleared her throat and struggled for a few moments, the words simply not coming.

“Is it about us?”

“Sort of,” she replied, touched by the gentleness in his tone. “When you first called me to tell me you’d been arrested, I… I was ready to jump in the car and drive there that night to see you. I was ready to fight, because I knew you’d never do what you were accused of. I’ve always stood by that.”

When she glanced his way, Van’s eyes were fixed on his coffee mug, his forehead wrinkled in a slight frown.

“But my mom made me go back to your dad’s that night to talk, and he said we’d all go in the morning because all we’d do is sit around waiting until then at the station to see you anyway,” she continued, remembering that night as clear as day. She’d played it over and over again in her mind, wondering if she could have done something different to alter their lives. “I went to sleep in the guest house, and your dad…. He followed me out.” Van’s hand closed into a fist suddenly, and she gulped. “He threatened me again, like before, but worse. He said he’d hurt my mom if I didn’t call things off between us. He said she was… a cash cow, basically. That all he wanted was her money.” Her voice shook as she relayed that particular comment, fear and rage gripping her in equal measures. “He said he’d never leave me alone. That he’d kill her. That he’d make sure you went away for a long time… I… I had no choice.”

The silence that fell between them was so heavy, and for a moment, she thought he might not believe her. He’d always believed that there’d been some misunderstanding between her and his dad before, and she could only hope that this time things would be different. A darkness had crept across his features, and before she could stop him, he’d picked up his mug and hurled it across the room. It shattered as soon as it hit the wall, coating the floor in broken bits of ceramic.

“I didn’t want to believe that he would… do something like that,” Van seethed, anger radiating off him. “That he’d threaten to hurt you. I couldn’t. I knew he was a piece of shit in another life, but I thought your mom had changed him…”

Sighing, April swung her chair about the table so that they could sit next to one another again. She’d initially thought of kneeling beside him, but nixed the idea, feeling it was too intimate. Instead, she placed her hand on his shoulder, then let it fall down to his back, rubbing gently. His body heat was off-the-charts, though the tension slowly eased out of him as she rubbed his back, and when she pulled her hand back, he slumped in his chair.

“I don’t think anyone can change a guy like your dad,” she said tentatively. “Not a wife, not a friend, and not a son. It’s nobody’s responsibility by his, and I don’t think he really wants to change.”

“It was naïve of me to think it, I guess.”

April shook her head. “No one wants their dad to be an asshole.”

A psychopathic asshole at that.

“That’s putting it mildly, I guess,” Van said, as if reading her thoughts. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he sat up and placed a hand on her leg. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. I will never, ever let him hurt you. Never.”

She set her hand on top of his for a brief moment then pulled back. “Van. You say that, but he put you in jail—“

“What?!”

“That’s my theory, anyway,” April told him hastily, feeling the rage flare up again. “He… He had access to the bag. Hell,
he
set up the job that got you arrested. Maybe he even tipped off the cops, I don’t know. I don’t have the proof… aside from my gut instinct.”

And it wasn’t like her gut instinct would hold up in court. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips as she waited for his reaction, but it seemed like he just needed time. Rising, Van stalked out of the kitchen, and she heard him open and slam the front door. Worried that he might take her car and go off after his dad, she raced to the living room window, only to let out a deep breath again when she saw him sitting on the front steps in nothing but sweat pants and a t-shirt, something she assumed Mike had also left for him.

Pursing her lips, she grabbed the blanket she’d used last night and crept out onto the porch. Once she’d draped the fabric over his shoulders, she left a soft kiss on his cheek and moved back inside to clean up.

By the time he rejoined her, she was snuggled up in the living room in front of the fake fireplace—why they wouldn’t build a real one was beyond her—as she played games on her phone. There were a few missed calls from her mom, which she refused to return, and James had sent her a text message she didn’t dare open. Van shuffled across the polished hardwood then dropped down on the couch beside her.

“Sorry if I… exploded,” he muttered. “I just needed some time to think. And thanks for the blanket.”

“Can’t have you freezing to death.” April shifted into a more upright position, though she was careful not to cuddle up against him. “Who will protect me then?”

His mouth twitched at her joke, which she quickly realized was in poor taste.

“I’m going to round up some of the MC guys,” he told her after a brief pause. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Let’s not forget you’re also on the run from the coppers,” April added, stiffening when he reached out to play with her hair. He smiled.

“I know. I’ll be careful, but my dad needs to pay for what he did, what he’s done for years.”

April nibbled her lower lip, wanting to tell him that she thought they should keep things casual until all of this was sorted out. After all, Van had a
lot
on his plate, and he didn’t need the relationship touchy-feely drama that they were bound to drudge up.

But he also didn’t have to have “the talk” either. He had enough to worry about. She’d tell him another day. So, when Van leaned in to brush his lips over hers, she let him, because he had enough to worry about.

…Right.