Taking a Dare - A Hellion MC Novel

Edited by: Laura Kinsley

Cover Design: Faustino Gaitẚn

L
icense Notes

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No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
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introduced into any information story and retrieval system, in any
form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical now known or
hereinafter invented, with the express written permission of J.A.
Hornbuckle.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

This is a work of fiction and is not a reflection or
representation of any person living or dead. Any similarity is of
pure coincidence. Although, if you recognize yourself in any
character represented, maybe we need to talk…

Chapter One

2003

"Listen to me," he urged on a hard whisper, his head
dipping down close to her ear. His forearms, his elbows were
gripping her shoulders tightly as he poised the helmet over the top
of her head. Hating, absolutely loathing to drop it completely so
that the visor would cut her beautiful face off from his view, the
sides of it cutting her off from his voice.

"I'm head over heels with you, sugar. Real and true."
His voice was only a raspy whisper which he hoped she could hear
above the pipes of twelve motorcycles coming alive. "You're mine
and I'm yours. Forever, yeah?"

His brown eyes searched her aqua ones and saw the
same sense of loss, the same silhouette of devastation that his
heart was twisted into.

"You turn eighteen and you are mine.
Mine
!
Do you understand?"

He watched her eyes close, the tears streaming from
them before she nodded.

"I'll always love you, " she whispered as she pointed
her beautiful lips towards his neither of them caring who watched
as they shared one last kiss, all thoughts of the helmet in his
hands forgotten.

She turned away, situating the head guard as she
slung her leg up and over her brother's ride, looping arms around
the other man's slim waist.

But her visor was always turned toward him as she
moved.

As she left him.

"I love you," he murmured as he watched the
motorcycle move away from him. Feeling his heart leave his chest as
it followed her trajectory. "Always. Nobody but you. Ever."

Chapter Two

2013

"Bring your leg higher, babe," he instructed, his
hips never losing their rhythm as he worked himself in and out of
leggy blonde spread out on the mattress beneath him. But he
probably should've moved his head away before he spoke, since the
only thing it had gotten him was a mouth full of her hair and
whatever gunk she used on it.

"But when I do that you go too deep and too fast,
Dare," came the complaint from someplace around his collarbone. "I
don't like doing it that way."

He stilled his churning hips and came up with his
elbows on her mattress to look at January with an eyebrow canted.
While he loved talking during fucking, her goddamn criticisms had
to go.

Christ! Being with her was starting to become more
trouble than it was worth.

"Then you fuckin' drive." Wrapping his arms around
her waist, he turned them without losing the connection until his
back was flat on the bed. She adjusted her legs, her knees
bracketing his hips and their movements resumed. It wasn't his
favorite position and he knew it would take him longer to get his.
Especially if she kept up with the slow, shallow shit. But, it
would have to do because at that moment all he wanted was to get
his nut and get gone.

"I think we need more lube," January advised,
reaching for the bottle on the nightstand.

More? Hell, he felt like he was wearing half the
bottle already and wondered why, if she was so into it, they even
needed the crap in the first place.

No, it wasn't working for him at all.

It was then Dare knew he was done with Miss January
Gillespie, one of the pole dancers at Tomatoes, a local strip club
in Missoula. The novelty of the exotic dancer and her amazing tits
had worn right the fuck off. He felt himself begin to soften inside
her and wondered if he was even going to be able to hit it now that
he knew he was done with her.

January was not his usual type so he should've been
surprised that he'd been around her for as long as he had. But
those tits. Damn!

All his Hellion brothers referred to her as 'cement
tits' for the way her big breasts never moved. Boobs she
swore
were 100% home-grown but real ones fuckin' had action
for god's sake. Not hers, though. They stayed completely and
totally in one position with no bobble, no sway, not even the
tiniest jiggle no matter if she was working the brass pole or
working him.

Plus, the way they felt underneath his hands? Yeah,
completely and totally still, just like hard mounds. No give, no
squishiness that gave a man pleasure in the fondling. Just his hand
and hard albeit warm flesh with tips. Nipples she had not shown any
reaction to when he'd tried working them. Not to his twists, tweaks
or flicks. Nada.

But it had been her chest that had been the only
thing that had kept his interest for the last few months. Had to
have been because it sure hadn't been her personality. Too serious
about both her job and her studies at the Uni. Not enough smiles or
laughs for his taste. Always looking down on the other dancers and
making sure he knew she was better than the other girls. That she
was better than Missoula and probably better than him.

"I don't normally sleep with bikers," she'd told him
with a nose scrunch the first time they'd fucked. He'd found it
cute at the time. But he'd learned over the few months he'd been
doing her that the wrinkled nose business was her version of a
sneer.

"This ain't gonna work, Jan." He reached for her
waist and pulled her off his half-hard dick.

"You wanna try it doggie style?" she asked and he
glanced over at her to see if she was serious. Obviously they were
not on the same fuckin' page if he mentally had one foot out the
door and she was asking about a change in position. He grabbed a
tissue in order to remove the condom and frowned.

Yep, he was coated in lube. Christ!

"Don't be embarrassed. It happens to a lot of men,
honey," she whispered, placing a hand on his arm and he whipped his
head to look at her.

What the fuck?

Her eyes held a look of pity even as she reached for
the member in question. "It's just something that happens
sometimes. Nothing to worry about."

He quickly twisted up until he was sitting on the
edge of the mattress, biting the inside of his cheek so the
laughter inside didn't come rolling out. She fuckin' thought he
couldn't…that his fuckin' cock was…god, this was
priceless
!

Reaching for his clothes, he got a grip and after a
bit was able to talk without chuckling. "Uhm, no, babe. That ain't
it. Listen, this has been fun but I think we're done."

"Done?" Her voice went a couple of octaves higher
with her question.

"Yeah, you know. As in over, completed, through with
it," he explained, dragging on his jeans and quickly buttoning
them.

"Bu-but…" she stuttered. "I thought we were moving
towards…I mean, that we were building…"

"What do I tell you, Jan?" His voice held an edge of
sharpness even as he continued to get dressed. "Each and every time
before we do anything, what do I say?"

She didn't respond verbally and he glanced at her
after shrugging into his t-shirt before pulling on his leather
bomber jacket and then his cut.

This was the part where things could get dicey. The
whole scraping off a civilian sometimes got messy, which was why a
lot of his biker brothers only stuck to giving the high-hard to the
Hellion Honeys. But January's face held no emotion…as it often
didn't.

Another thing that had always bugged the shit out of
him.

He stomped into his boots, his mind already on other
things before he heard her speak.

"I was the best you'll ever have," she declared
firmly and he looked at her noting narrowed eyes and her chin
lifted in challenge. Which he hoped was all the reaction he was
going to get from her. But he'd learned that he could never knew
how those of the female persuasion were gonna react to
anything.

The sweet bitches.

He put his hand on the doorknob and turned to look at
her over his shoulder one last time. "Glad I made you feel that
way, babe."

Something hit the other side of the door the moment
he'd closed it and he couldn't help but smile at the sound. Maybe
if she'd shown that kind of spirit when he was between her thighs,
he would've stuck around for a while longer.

Or maybe not.

Because once Dare was done with a woman, he was
con-fuckin'-pletely
done
.

Recently, she'd been making fuckin' noises about
going out. Asking why he never took her to dinner or out to a
movie. Shit! As if. Like he'd ever done or would ever do that
dating bullshit. And the way she wanted to talk, saying she wanted
to
know
him better? Let other men play the
getting-to-know-you game in order to get into a chick's panties.
That wasn't his style and didn't need to be.

Not with all the pussy he had on tap.

It was still early and he decided to swing by the
Hellion clubhouse to see if anything was doing instead of going
home. As he swung a long leg over his 2001 Harley Sportster 1200,
he pulled out his cellphone. Deleting January's number was just as
easy as it had been in telling her they were done.

Which was just the way Dare liked it: no fuss, no
muss.

The club was only about a third full but held enough
music and conversation to make any civilian think there was a party
going on, just a regular weeknight for the Hellions.

He spied the blonde-headed Huff and Bishop at one end
of the long bar that was being worked by Huff's wife Carly. "'S'up,
mo foes?" he greeted, snagging a barstool and tucking it under his
ass.

"Thought you were gonna be with Cement Tits tonight."
Bishop tossed his almost waist-length braid over his shoulder
before bringing the cut-glass tumbler to his mouth that Dare knew
held some special brand of vodka.

"Had to scrape her off, man," Dare said with a laugh
as Carly placed his own glass of tequila in front of him. "Check
it, so I'm no longer in the game and taking my cue, neither is Mr.
Stiffie. Blinking up at me, all serious-like, she's telling me not
to be fuckin' embarrassed. That it happens to all guys at one time
or another. Can you believe that shit?"

"Holy Christ!" Bishop roared as Huff began to laugh.
"You're scraping her shit off and she's talking fuckin' E.D.? She
doesn't know the difference between fucking disinterested and
dead?" Bishop's voice held both disbelief and mirth.

Huff on the other hand was laughing so hard he didn't
seem to be breathing.

"You know what causes that, right?" All three men
looked at Carly as if she'd lost her goddamn mind. "Not the limp
dick thing. I'm talking about the cement tits."

Dare shook his head and saw Bishop do the same.

"When a chick has the surgery to increase the size of
her girls, she's supposed to massage them afterwards. It helps keep
them loose and prevent scar tissue from forming, to attaching to
the bags they put in there. So you gotta work 'em. And work them
hard. But it fucking hurts!" Dare found he wasn't the only one
staring at Carly's chest when she explained. "Had to have Huff do
it for me. But if the massage isn't done, them puppies ain't gonna
move and look natural."

"Was one of the fucking hardest things I'd ever had
to do, hurting my girl by squeezing her new rack. Presents aren't
supposed to be painful," Huff said with a head shake and a sigh
before gazing at his wife. "Was fucking worth it though."

Carly jumped up and leaned way over the bar to plant
her lips on her man's while Dare and Bishop glanced down the
redheaded woman's gaping top, armed with new knowledge about her
chest. "Sure was, babycakes."