Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (11 page)

“It's okay,” I said, resting my cheek against his. Rough, short stubble made a delicious contrast against my skin. “Just rest up. It's all over now. I won't leave until you're better.”

“You'd better not,” he growled, pinching my hand against his chest with his one last time. “Cause after that sweet taste of your lips, I'm gonna need a whole lot more when I wake up. I
want
you, Alice, need you under me so fucking bad...”

Holy shit.
Even when he closed his eyes and started snoring next to me, I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said.

It left me frustrated, hot, achingly wet. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep for several hours. When I couldn't, I watched through the blinds, waiting until the sun was just about all the way overhead.

I kept my promise to stay with him until he was well. Hadn't slept a wink myself by early afternoon, just listening to the sound of his sleep, less troubled than before as the hours went by. Downright peaceful, actually. He sounded like a big bear hibernating.

Seeing him, feeling him, smelling him made it so hard to break away. But I knew if I stayed a second longer, it would only be worse when I finally did.

I had to get out of here. I had to leave this clubhouse, and then find a ride far, far away from Missoula. I needed to get away from Sting before I never wanted to escape ever again.

Grounding myself here meant I'd be permanently grounded when Stinger woke up. He really did want me, and I wanted him. Thinking about what would happen if we gave in chilled me to the core.

How could I give myself to this man – to any man – if I didn't even know who I was? Sure, I could offer him sex, indulging in the carnal delights I'd always wanted.

But it wouldn't be honest. My whole life was still half-suffocated underneath a shroud. I couldn't offer this man anything when I didn't know what I had to give.

Waking up in a dark closet with a corpse next to me and clawing my way to sanity left me an emotional wreck. I'd treated these people who gave me shelter and safety like shit. Shit, I'd treated myself the same way too.

I had to go, and I had to move now, when Stinger was safe and blissfully asleep. With him out, there'd be no painful goodbye, no fighting him when he wrapped me in his wild grip and told me to stay.

Tears prickled my eyes, the same thorns tangled around my heart. Slowly, I slid off the bed and stood next to him. I leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead.

All the determination I had welling up inside me to figure my crap out didn't mean anything to my tears.

They overflowed, spilling down my cheek. I sniffed and wiped them away, careful not to make too much noise. I threw a few shirts and toiletries in an old backpack he'd given me and quietly shut the door, taking the long hallway to the bar area in hurried steps.

I'm the one who's sorry, Sting. So fucking sorry. I just can't do this.

It's better this way, better for us both...

I'm not the right girl for you. I'm not even sure what kinda girl I am. All I can focus on is finding out.

The clubhouse was a lot quieter now. Some of the guys were in their rooms and the rest were home, recuperating from the party gone bad. Blaze was sitting up, hunched over at the bar with a huge carafe of water. He looked like hell, and jerked a little when I gently tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey.”

Anger shot through his eyes. Probably pissed that I'd rattled him a little without meaning to. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, clearing my throat. “I heard about what happened to the Rams. They're dead and gone, aren't they?”

“That's club business. Not yours,” he snapped. Then after a long second, he grunted and rolled his eyes.

Blaze gave me a slow nod, leaning closer to me. “Keep that shit to yourself. Not everybody knows. I haven't even had time to debrief the club after everybody's been puking their guts out all night. Thank fuck Tank and the boys got their asses
good.
”

The way he growled it left no doubt the Rams suffered. Filled me with a sick sorta satisfaction, and that only stiffened my resolve to get on with my life now that this awful chapter was done.

Shit, I needed to get away, before I became like these men and their old ladies, hard-nosed killers.

“I want my freedom,” I said sternly. “You all promised me I wouldn't be kept here once the Rams were gone. This clubhouse...it's been great...”

Yeah, real great. Yeah, right.

I was starting to trip on my words and I definitely didn't want Blaze to see me tearing up. Had to talk fast.

“Look, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but now I've got to go. I have to figure out my past and future. I think this where our paths are supposed to end.”

Blaze cocked his head and looked at me, a strange smirk on his lips. “You ready for that, woman?”

“Yes.”

No, no, no,
my mind screamed. I stood my ground, unmoving, ignoring the needles poking at my eyes, wanting to bring the tears back whenever I pictured Stinger sleeping peacefully where I'd left him.

“Then here.” Blaze moved fast. I watched him pull out his wallet and rummage through it, plucking a handful of crisp bills and shoving them toward me.

My jaw dropped as he pressed over a thousand dollars into my hands. “No! No way. I can't take this.”

He snorted. “Pay it back when you get on your feet if it really gets under your skin. You know the fucking address here, Alice. Just take the money and go. Your info helped us. This club looks out for the boys and girls who keep it safe.”

I didn't know what to say. The next hour was a blur as I mouthed a thanks and stumbled away from the bar. Saffron was right behind, talking to Blaze, wondering what I wanted.

I'd heard those two were due to get married soon. Made me wonder if Blaze had always been a big bad bastard with a good heart, or if having Saffron as his old lady had softened him. Whatever the case, he'd given me my ticket out of there.

I vaguely remembered how to drive, but without a license, rentals and cheap clunkers were out of the question. I called a taxi instead and spent the next few days holed up in a hotel just outside town.

Winter was about to settle in over Missoula and the Bitterroot valley. I was getting out just in time, heading West. Putting some mountains and a few hundred miles between the Prairie Devils MC and myself seemed smart.

By some miracle, my emotions stayed in check all week. It didn't hit me until I actually climbed on the bus parked at the station and it took off for Coeur d'Alene.

I couldn't resist looking back at the long highway leading into town from the window, remembering how warm and strong and loving Stinger felt beneath me. Remembering his smell, his kiss, his taste...God!

Why couldn't I forget the things that hurt worse than anything the dead Rams did to me?

The bearded guy in camo several seats over stared at me like I was nuts as I broke down and covered my face. I let it all come out for several dozen miles, gasps and tears and hurt, one last bitter avalanche before I left Montana forever, trying to forget the man who would've given me everything.

Months Later

T
he club's Christmas Party was a real fucking drag. I'd been looking forward to it for a couple weeks, hoping it would take my mind off the deep freeze clouding my head ever since she left, but it just did the opposite.

The brothers and supporters with their families had come and gone. Now, it was mostly just the single brothers, and the raunchy business was in full swing. I was at the bar, pouring extra Jim into my beer, ignoring the face sucking and excited gasps going on in the corner behind me.

I lost my taste for Jack the same night my appetite for fresh new pussy went out the window.

Had to switch brands of whiskey and started drinking a lot more beer since the night the Rams fucked us. Puking your guts out'll do that.

Or maybe the shit reminded me of Alice too damned much. The scent of Jack was heavy in the clubhouse the last time I saw her, before she kissed my unconscious head one last time and blew town.

I should've been in my old room railing Sugar and Spice right about now. Of course, I missed my chance about an hour ago, when they took off with our newest patched in brothers. Smokey and Stone were probably railing their little asses and high fiving each other right that second. All while I sat by myself trying to get blasted, wishing my dick could get hard to some girl who wasn't cold, scared, and completely fucking outta reach.

Fuck.
I picked up my tall pilsner glass and dropped more whiskey in my dregs of beer before swaggering off the bar stool, wandering the clubhouse by myself. The place was a wreck like it always was after a big bash. This one started out low key and gentle as any family event hosted by the club, and then devolved into crazy shit later on after the kids were gone.

I dragged my ass to the window facing the main drag by the gate. Snow was falling, crisp and neat, making for a white Christmas just a few days before the big day hit.

Also meant I was really trapped. Christmas put a cold stop to all but the most essential club biz. Brothers disappeared and spent more time with their old ladies and their families. After this bash, the bars wouldn't be as well stocked for a little while. Worst of all, hopping on my bike and going for a ride was out of the fucking question with powder and ice like this shitting up the roads.

There was nothing to do but shuffle around like a ghost. Blaze and Saffron took off hours ago for their place. Now, it was just me and the brothers who still got their dicks wet with any hot pussy or mouth they could find.

Wicked reminders everywhere that I wasn't doing the same damned thing, and I wasn't even tied down with an old lady. It was all because she'd gotten underneath my skin and wouldn't get the hell back out.

Didn't fucking matter she'd been effectively outta my life since Jack Frost came to roost. Fuck, I was thinking about her right now, remembering the way she'd ruined my lips forever with her addictive little lips.

If I hadn't been sick as hell that night, I would've tasted a whole lot more.

The poison hit me pretty bad, but it didn't stop my cock from straining like it was gonna rip through my pants, hard and horny and ready to get between her legs. I would've tried it too if that shit hadn't knocked me out.

When I woke up, she was gone, and there was no way short of defying a direct order from the Prez to change that. Blaze wouldn't even let me call her or send the shit we'd found in the Rams' old clubhouse. I had her license and her sketchbook, vicious mementos I couldn't help but pluck out and look at on cold, brutal nights like this. Roller found the ID and gave it to me after they picked over that shithole and dug up the buried weapons shipment that satisfied the Feds to keep Tank free.

I sucked down my brew and left the glass on the windowsill. Halfway down the hall, I heard a woman scream, unmistakably close to climax.

“God! Roller!” Marianne, the buxom blonde, was getting reamed good in the whores' room.

“Fuck!” I watched my younger, leaner brother tense up through the little slit in the door.

His lip ring bounced and thrashed as he ground his hips into her. He snarled and emptied his nuts, pulling her legs tight around him, thrusting as deep as he could go.

My cock wanted a piece of that, and wanted it bad. If only I could make my asshole heart shut the fuck up and let it go.

I walked on. What I found in my old room was a real surprise.

Soon as I was through the door, I heard a woman squeal, the kinda scream I'd know anywhere. Emma looked up with her blonde locks bobbing, chin hooked to Tank's bare shoulder.

The big guy clearly hadn't slowed down one bit since claiming her a few months ago. It took him a few seconds to turn around and see me.

“Fuck! Sorry, boss. Didn't know you were still hanging out in this place.”

Em's cheeks flushed beet red. He gently settled her down on the old bed, the same one where I'd been so fucking close to Alice. I sighed and looked at the floor, taking my eyes off them for the nurse's sake. Tank zipped up quick and I heard her clothes shuffling behind me.

“Didn't meant to interrupt anything, brother. Just needed a place to crash. I'm too fucked up to go home tonight. Looks like the party's running on fumes...”

Tank rolled his huge shoulders, settling his cut. He looked at me and grinned. “Not for Em and me. It's okay, boss. We were just getting started. We're gonna head out and keep the party going somewhere we can have some fucking –“

“
Privacy,
” Emma finished, elbowing him in the guts, straightening her pants.

They both looked at me sheepishly. A second later, Tank threw a possessive arm around her, making her squirm playfully against him. Shit, her collar was still way too low, giving me an easy view of the bright red suck marks he'd left on her skin.

“Drive safe,” I grunted, nodding politely to Em as she wrestled out of his grasp and walked past me. “The club's finally getting a rest for Christmas time. Well fucking deserved too.”

“Sure is,” Tank agreed, tugging his leather straight one more time before walking out.

He was almost gone when he stopped with one foot out the door, turning back to me. “You take care too, Veep. Don't get into the same bullshit funk I did. I can smell the shit rolling off you. You're a free man, boss. Don't let some pussy who doesn't want you keep your balls in a vise.”

I wanted to laugh in his face. But I was too damned tired for arguing with brothers, especially in this state. Nodding, I watched Tank and Em slip out to the garages for their car. Me stumbling in on them was just a temporary delay.

Didn't take a genius to figure out they'd be going back to the sweet house he'd bought for them and railing her little ass all night. One thing was for sure: she'd been good for the big bastard, and the last man I ever expected to take advice from had actually given me some shit worth thinking about.

I leaned down and sniffed my cut. Fucking
Christ.