Ride (Alpha Male Romance): In Between the Covers (Carolina Bad Boys #3) (4 page)

I aimed to leave, but I didn’t even make it to the door. I just couldn’t get my feet to cross the threshold knowing she was still inside.

If she started dancing, I was cutting in on that shit.

Sure enough, sometime later some drunken fool leeched onto her and tried to drag her into the mash of bodies weaving every which way but upright and sober. I didn’t hear what Ave said to make the fucker move on, but I felt a zing of pride she knew how to take care of herself.

That didn’t stop me from strutting up to her and asking, “Buy you a drink?”

“Last time I checked keg stands were free as long as a girl took her shirt off first.”

“I’d like to see that. But I don’t think anyone else here deserves it,” I rasped.

“And you do?”

Sucking in a breath, I dropped my head. “Not yet.” I gathered her hands in mine. “Listen, Ave. I’d ask you to dance if I didn’t think you’d knee me in the nuts.”

For the first time that night, I heard her low laugh.

I dipped my knees so we were face-to-face. “I really just want to make sure you get home all right.”

She whispered, “Yes. I think I’ve had enough of these people.”

Relief washed through me. I wouldn’t have to commit murder one tonight. Bonus. Or maybe the bonus was getting to run my arm around Ave’s back—her completely bare back—as we left the party. She texted Benny and held a screechy, aka cap-locked, exchange with her friend as we walked along.

“You didn’t score tonight?” Ave’s glance slid to me.

I wrapped my arm more strongly around her waist. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Ave wasn’t exactly small—she was probably five-foot-six to my six foot two—but she felt slight in spite of her curves as she snuggled against me. I liked the feeling of her thigh and hip pressed against me as we strode along.

“No Harley?” she asked.

“Drinking means no driving.”

“Huh. So you really are the responsible one.”

“Wouldn’t say that.” I slid my key into the lock and let us into the house. “You’re cold.” I rubbed both her arms as I knocked the door closed behind me.

Shrugging from my hands, she pulled away. “I’m always cold. That’s what they say.”

“Bullshit to that.” My jaw hardened. I motioned her to the kitchen, careful not to touch her because the skittishness was back and this time she had no sweater to hide inside. “I’ll make you tea. I got the kind you like.”

For one moment, Ave’s eyes turned to stone like they had that first day when she’d showed up on my doorstep. It made my stupid, screwed-up heart miss a beat. I moved to the sink to cover the way my hands shook as I ran water into a mug and slid it into the microwave.

When I set the mug of tea in front her, her eyes returned to that soulful blue color I liked so much I’d give almost anything to keep it right there.

“Jase, can I ask you something.” She blew across the lip of the cup.

My gaze hovered between her pretty pink lips and the rim of the mug. “Sure. Whatever.”

Dragging a chair around, I dropped into it and laid my forearms on the table.

“Why do you even care what happens to me?” Her chin wobbled and she stared down at the milky tea I’d made her.

Why do I care?

Christ, a thousand reasons, a million answers flew to the tip of my tongue. She was funny and so fucking smart it turned me on. She was sexy in a way I never knew a woman like her could be. She was shy but not. She was fragile but strong. She filled in the cracks of my life when I’d been sure those cracks would only spread deeper.

I cared a hell of a lot more than I should.

Reaching across the table, I captured her neck in my hand. Her skin was buttery soft.

I brushed my thumb across her mouth. “Maybe I think you’re more special than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Her lips parted. I thought she’d invite my fingertip inside.

She reeled back. “Maybe I am. But you aren’t.”

Her cold words stole that tiny bit of warmth from my heart. She had every right to think I wasn’t worthy because I knew I wasn’t. And it ate at me more than ever before because of her.

I scraped back my chair. I pivoted away to stand at the sink with my arms braced against it. My voice came out low. “You’re right. As always. And this is when we say goodnight, precious.”

When I turned around, her chair was empty. The mug of tea I’d made her sat abandoned on the table.

Avery

I DIDN’T SEE MUCH of Jase the next two weeks. He left breakfast out for me. He had dinner warming in the oven, but other than that, he was MIA. I didn’t blame him. I’d been a bitch. Worse, I didn’t know how to apologize. As the days passed, it became harder and harder to think of a way to tell him how sorry I was.

He had always seemed so easy, unaffected by anyone, like he didn’t give a shit what anybody thought. But I’d seen the hurt flash across his eyes. I’d watched his mouth tighten and his face harden.

I didn’t want to feel the instant attraction Jase generated just because he looked at me. Just because he touched me.

I didn’t like him.

I still hated Jase Goddamn Everly. Except I really didn’t hate him at all.

He didn’t know it, but his gruff voice sent slivers of heat into my belly. His tats peeking from the cuffs of his sleeves and the collar at his neck made me want to do things I’d never done with any man. My body furled and tightened every time I thought about him.

I had a feeling his nonchalance was almost as formulated as my shy shell.

A confusing tumble of emotions and reactions filled me because of him, but none of them were bad. Well, he did make a point of pissing me off more often than not, but he fired me up. He wasn’t threatening, but something about him was dangerous. Yet, I knew he’d never do anything to hurt me.

I hate him. He’s a player. He thinks I’m a game. And a player just like Jase hurt me.

I still needed to say sorry to him.

****

The second weekend after I’d thoroughly dissed Jase—who’d done nothing more than take me into his home and look after me while asking nothing in return—I stumbled into the bathroom between our bedrooms. Half my hair fell into my eyes. My eyes were sleep blurry because I’d stayed awake half the night waiting for him to come home. I’d hoped to catch him alone and finally force my apology on him.

My blurry eyes cleared quickly when I saw what, or rather who, was already in the bathroom. I might’ve even squeaked like one of those silly baristas I worked with.

Jase stood at the sink rubbing a towel over his hair. The many muscles on his naked back flexed and popped. His shoulders bunched. His biceps bulged. The tattoo I’d seen coiling up his neck was part of the same tribal design covering the entire length of his right arm. The pattern of swirls and stars and intricate bands of black ink curled around his shoulder and continued down the side of his back. It fanned along the wall of his ribs.

The ink led me to his butt.

From behind, his ass looked muscular and firm wrapped inside the towel.

When he turned around, my gaze stayed put, coming into contact with a sizable bulge.

I definitely squeaked. I know I blushed. My hand rose to cover my mouth and I finally lifted my eyes to his face. Throwing aside the towel he’d used on his hair, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. Then he graced me with one of his lazy, insolent grins I hadn’t seen in so long.

My feet wouldn’t budge as I kept looking, that time taking a return trip all the way down his broad, sculpted chest. My jaw dropped open before I snapped it shut. The damp towel clung to him, knotted very low on his lean hips.

I had to refrain from fanning my face. I was surprised I hadn’t caught on fire yet. Wet heat pooled between my legs, and I felt suddenly swollen and needy and achy.

A single drop of water slipped down his torso. I licked my lips. He inhaled loudly. The droplet drizzled through the single line of dark brown hair bisecting his washboard abdomen. It continued lower, winding into the tuft of pubic curls peeking above the low towel.

I swallowed. He gripped the sink in two hard fists.

Below, his bulge strained the fabric. I couldn’t tell if he was hard, but he certainly wasn’t soft. Neither was he small. My heart thudded in my chest. I felt my pulse all over my body, the strongest in my pussy.

“See somethin’ you like, precious?”

There was no way I could answer. I’d probably drool if I opened my mouth. My feet seemed rooted in place. I looked at him again.

The air between us was thick, and it wasn’t caused by the steam from his recent shower. His eyes were shaded, but not because of the shadows the lights cast. It was hunger, pure and simple. Hunger for me as I stood before him wearing my hideous sweats with my hair a tangled mess.

I liked what I saw. He damn well knew it, too. But I wasn’t about to admit anything out loud.

Jase jerked his head to the bathtub. “Guess turnabout’s fair play.”

His comment sent me reeling back to the night he’d walked in on me masturbating. I wondered if he could smell what he was doing to me as wetness rushed between my legs. My nipples hardened. My breasts swelled.

“I suppose I still owe you one, though. Wanna watch me fuck my fist, precious?” His rough voice shivered through me.

If he kept this up, I’d likely explode on the spot.

Stepping closer, Jase ran a fingertip up my arm. “What’s the matter? Speechless? Maybe I oughtta take off my clothes in front of you more often.”

Aaaand
just like that, old Jase was back.

My apology was forgotten as I snapped, “You can jack off all you like. You’ll still be a jackass.”

I slammed out of the bathroom before I was tempted to rip off his towel.

His rumbling laugh followed me. “I missed you, too, precious.”

****

A couple hours later—after a sesh with my bullet while I buried my face in my pillow so Jase wouldn’t hear how hard and loud I came because of him—I ventured downstairs. It was a lazy Saturday, but he hadn’t spent a single day home since I’d pissed him off so badly.

I expected him to be out and about screwing whoever he screwed when he wasn’t around. I certainly didn’t think I’d find him in the living room, shouting on his iPhone.

“You’re such a self-righteous prick! You have to have it your way. I’m just askin’ for a little help here, but you can’t see past your own self-made-man prophecy to give a shit, can you?”

The voice on the other end was so loud it made
me
we want crawl under the covers and hide. I had no idea how Jase could stand there and listen to the incoming tirade with that stoic look on his face as he stood in profile to me. His jaw pulsed once, twice.

His expression was the same he’d worn when I’d told him he wasn’t good enough for me. Seemed he’d heard that line before, which made me feel even worse.

“Fuck you, too. Don’t worry, I’ll send myself a reminder to never ask you for anything again.” He thumbed off his phone and threw it to the coffee table.

Stepping into the room, I walked toward him. He swung his head my way, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“So, that was . . .”

“My dad.”

“He sounds like he’s—”

“A dick.”

“I never knew mine,” I said.

“Lucky you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” I shrugged. “My dad left when I was too young to remember him. Just my mom and me. She worked her ass off for everything we have.”

“Damn, Ave. I must sound like such a spoiled shit. I’m sorry you’ve had it hard.” With his hand cupping my face, Jase brushed his thumb near my mouth. “I’m trying to make it easier for you.”

My belly flip-flopped. “You are. You have no idea, Jase. I’m here on scholarship. That’s why I can’t let up on my studies.”

“If anyone’s going to be a success, it’s you.” He withdrew his hand to tap the tip of his nose. “I can sense these things. And you never have to worry about asking me for anything. I promise.”

A warm sense of security—something I’d never felt before—settled over me. He was so sincere one moment, so unbearably teasing and sexy the next. I almost never knew what to expect from him, but I always wanted more.

“Wait a sec. If you don’t get your money from your rich parents, where do you get it?” I asked the question that began burning a hole through my brain.

His nostrils flared as his expression closed down. “That’s not something you need to know about.”

“Oh, God. You’re not a drug dealer are you?”

His loud bark of a laugh rattled my bones. His eyebrows hooked up, as did one side of his mouth. “Really, Ave? You think I’ve got a meth lab set up somewhere?”

“Well, you are always out most of the night . . .”

“Ave, Ave, Ave.” He slowly shook his head. “And here I thought you had a better opinion of me,” he said with mock disappointment.

“I do! I’m just—”

“You’re just like a dog with a bone, is what you are. Drop it, precious.” It was an order spoken in the most coaxing tone.

I sighed. “Fine.”

“Good.” He grabbed my hand and looked me over. “You’ll do.”

“Um. For what?”

“Let’s go for a ride. I need to get out, and as you said, you work too hard. Time for you to have some fun.”

“A ride?”

“On my bike.” He smirked, and with that quirk of his cherry-red lips something clenched inside me.

A ride on his bike, not his . . . uh . . . cock.

A blush splashed across my cheeks in record time, which amused him all the more. He chuckled.

“I’ve . . . I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.” I fumbled for words.

“Awesome. I do love a virgin.”

I tugged my hand free and punched him on the shoulder. “Not funny, wise guy.”

“Bullshit. It was pretty funny. And I’m serious. I love first-timers.” Leaning real close, he whispered, “Whaddya say, Ave? Lemme pop your bike cherry?”

Heat skimmed the surface of my skin when his warm breath brushed the side of my neck.

“Okay.”

“Hey, no skirts on the bike, kinky girl.” His eyes twinkled. “Put on those jeans I like so much, unless you plan on giving me a peepshow.”

I gave him a show all right. It was my middle finger as I marched upstairs to change. His dirty chuckle made me smile. It was far better than him shutting down or shutting me out.

I thought about spiting him just because by wearing a pair of ugly jeans, but I relented. I even added a tight light blue thermal top to go with the tight jeans I’d worn to the frat party. I stuffed my feet into the hiking boots I wore in the winter.

When I joined Jase downstairs his appreciative whistle filled my belly with butterflies. He placed a leather jacket on my shoulders.

“This will swamp me!”

“Just think of it as one of your sweaters, only better. It smells like me.”

The coiling heat was back inside my tummy. I sniffed the collar and felt the heavy weight of well-used leather over my shoulders. It did smell of him—sunshine and open roads. Freedom and a hint of spiciness. The scent of tobacco lurked, but I didn’t mind. The heady smell was perfectly Jase, and being wrapped inside it made me feel like I belonged. That maybe I belonged with him.

He towed me out the door and placed a helmet on my head.

Lifting one leg over the motorcycle, he held out his hand. “Just hold onto me, precious. I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt.”

With the first rumble of the Harley between my legs and Jase’s hard thighs pressed to the insides of mine, I felt something amazing. I felt free. Wrapping my arms around his stomach, I laid my cheek against his shoulder. He roared onto the road and moved between traffic like the motorcycle—black and big and loud—was an extension of his body. The way he handled the full throttle beast was sexual and primal and so manly I could almost imagine the way he made love.

Heat billowed inside of me, warming me as the wind lashed my unbound hair and bit bright spots into my cheeks.

Jase patted my hands and nodded back at me before we hit the open road of the Brazos Trail. I peered over his shoulder and laughed in his ear. I saw him grin just before he throttled down hard. A louder laugh burst from me. I couldn’t stop the lighthearted, light-headed feeling caused by the racing speed, the strong man in my arms, the rumbling metal between our legs.

I buried my nose against the skin of his neck where I could smell him best. He shuddered against me. Tears stung my eyes and fell. They weren’t solely because of the whipping wind. The tears came fast, just a few, because Jase was giving me an experience that surpassed all the others of my life. He was sharing one of his loves with me.

Hours must have passed, but it felt like minutes. I never wanted to stop. The Brazos Trail went on for miles and miles of hillsides and canyons and the burnished glow of autumn hues. It swept by as a mirage of colors, colors—like the feeling burbling inside—I wanted to grab onto.

Eventually he slowed, pulling off the road. We stopped at an overlook and shared a bottle of water. I hadn’t stopped grinning. Jase watched me with a careful look in his eyes, as if he’d never seen me before.

With my hand tucked inside his warmer, rougher palm, he helped me down the trail. At the end of a winding woodsy path, we halted. The breath flew from my chest and I pressed my hand to my mouth. Below us, the whole landscape opened up. Acres of untouched craggy hills and valleys. Sparkling dots of lakes. Trees and shrubs in glowing red and ochre. The color blue, tinged with sunset pink, saturated the sky, and that sky was endless.