Rebel (40 page)

Wes felt like he was flying as he sped down the back roads toward Wyatt’s house with Rubi leaning into him, holding him tight, her giggle tickling his ear every time he surprised her by speeding over a rise or leaning heavily into a turn.

She loved him; he knew she did. Beyond that, she was
in
love with him. He just needed to let her get used to it. He could wait to hear the words. When he and Rubi were as connected as they were now, he didn’t need the words. Not really. At least that was what he was telling himself for now.

One day at a time with Rubi Russo. One day at a time.

And with days like this, he was okay with that. Because every day with Rubi was ten times more exhilarating than one day with anyone else.

She was the one.

He’d realized it lying there on the blanket while she’d been feeding him grapes and kissing him between each one. Grapes his mom had packed up the minute Wes had told her he was taking Rubi on a ride. Then, as she’d packed drinks and chocolates, she’d drifted off on a tangent, suggesting he set up a really nice picnic for her by stringing lights in the trees. Whitney hadn’t helped with her input that Wes should bring his iPod and speaker so they could dance in their private retreat. The fact that they’d liked Rubi enough to insist he make such an effort pleased him. But he knew Rubi better. She needed just the right balance of romance and nonchalance to keep her comfortable. Wes hadn’t quite figured out the ratio yet and didn’t need anything tipping the slow progress they were making toward becoming a solid, committed couple.

He turned off the highway to Daughtry’s “On the Inside,” singing about running to escape but failing because
“it’s still just you on the inside,”
and wondering if that was what Rubi had been doing all these years. When he turned down Wyatt’s street, his thoughts hit a brick wall. Across the street from Wyatt’s house, Melissa stood beside her car.

Shit.
Wes had purposely called Tori this morning to ask when Melissa would be gone before he brought Rubi over.

But as Wes neared, his mind flipped in another direction. A man stood between Melissa and her car. Her ex, Dillon Stark, was a big guy, a head taller than Melissa. His body language was both angry and aggressive, sending an immediate sizzle of alarm across his shoulders.

“Isn’t that Melissa?” Rubi’s voice sounded soft in his ear.

He reached up, shutting the music off, and parked several houses down. “Yeah.”

“What’s going on there?”

She sounded sincerely concerned, which gave Wes one more thing to love about her. Every other girlfriend had been jealous of something in Wes’s life—actresses he’d worked with, the travel and long days his job required, his friendship with the other Renegades. Melissa was a truly beautiful woman in that wholesome, country-girl-next-door way that every one of his previous girlfriends would have taken issue with.

“Don’t know. And I don’t want to know.” He shut off the bike. “He’s her recent ex-fiancé.”

He pulled off his helmet at the same time Rubi did.

“Another one?” she asked quietly.

Wes shot her a sidelong grin. They both returned to watching the argument, waiting for either escalation or diffusion.

“Wes…” she whispered, concern in her tone. “Do you think—?”

Rubi’s words cut off with a gasp as the guy made an aggressive grab for Melissa’s arm and shook her.

“Fuck.” He didn’t want to get in the middle of this, but what the hell else could he do? Wes climbed off the bike without taking his eyes off the pair and handed his helmet to Rubi. “Stay here.”

He started toward them at a slow, casual pace, unzipping his jacket for freedom of movement—something he hoped he wouldn’t need. “Hey, Missy.” He waited until Dillon—a guy he and Melissa had gone to school with—looked at Wes, then said, “Dillon. Long time.”

A few deep breaths passed before Dillon’s furious gaze swung back to Melissa. “Is that what this is about? Him?”

“Nothing between us has anything to do with Wes.” Melissa clenched her fists at her sides. Her face was pink and wet from crying. “Get in your car and leave, Dillon. If you don’t stop this, I’ll call the police.”

Wes stopped ten feet away, far enough to stay out of the middle, close enough to act.

Dillon swung toward Wes. “You didn’t fuck her enough when you lived here?” he said, taking two menacing steps toward Wes. “You have to come all the way from California to fuck her now too?”

Wes clenched his teeth. “I’m here to see my brother. There’s nothing going on between Missy and me.”

With one more giant step closer, Dillon’s voice lowered. “Then stay the fuck out of this.”

“If you leave, I’ll stay out of it.”

Wes saw the punch in Dillon’s expression long before the man’s body ever moved. When his fist finally came at him, Wes pulled back and stepped aside. Dillon’s momentum turned him in a one-eighty.

“Come on, Dillon, I don’t want to fight.” But Dillon was already starting for him again. Wes put his hands up as he backed off. “Just go hit a bar and cool off.”

Dillon lunged toward him, one big hand shoving Wes’s chest. He went with the movement, keeping his feet under him, watching for the next shove. When it came, Wes grabbed his hand, twisted into the attack and slammed his other arm across Dillon’s. The move joint-locked Dillon’s elbow. His own forward momentum helped Wes whip the man off his feet. He followed Dillon to the ground, controlling him with the hand Wes still held tight. Dillon hit the pavement hard on his back. Wes dropped to one knee, his forearm holding pressure across Dillon’s chest.

While Dillon choked for air, Wes searched for Melissa. She stood several feet away, hands covering her mouth, blue eyes as big as eggs. “Go,” Wes said, irritated. “Get out of here. Go file a fucking restraining order against this asshole, would you?”

“But…but…”

“Goddammit, Missy.” Now he was pissed. “I’m gonna let him up. Do you want to be here when I do that?”

She fumbled with her keys and hurried to her car.

“You motherfucker, Lawson.” Dillon’s shock was burning off, air scraping into his lungs, his hands digging into Wes’s to get free.

Wes added a knee to his gut. “Give me thirty more seconds, dude.”

As soon as Melissa’s car turned the corner and sped out of sight, Wes found his feet and took a quick glance to make sure Rubi was well out of reach. Then he released Dillon and sprang back. Way back. He did
not
want to be anywhere within reach when the guy finally got to his feet.

But Dillon’s movements were far slower than Wes had expected, giving him time to catch his own breath and regroup with a secondary strategy if Dillon decided to continue this confrontation.

“Want me to call?” Rubi asked from behind Wes, her tone as calm as when she’d been lying on the grass, feeding him grapes. “Or wait?”

He knew she meant call the cops. And, damn, he really didn’t need that kind of trouble. “Wait.”

Dillon got to his feet and pointed a menacing finger at Wes. “You’d better hope I don’t see you again, fucker.”

“Oh, I do, bro,” Wes said, backing up, hands raised, sincere in his assurance. “I hope you
never
see me again.”

Dillon limped to his Jeep Laredo parked on the street behind where Melissa’s had been, fired it up, and took off. Wes let out a long exhale and turned toward Rubi. She was standing beside the bike, her ass resting against the seat, arms crossed, her phone in one hand, and she had that grin she often had after she’d watched him run a stunt.

He walked to her side, swung an arm around her shoulders, and started toward Wyatt’s house. “Does anything faze you?”

“If you’re asking if your heroism turns me on, the answer is yes. I’m totally hot for you now.”

“Well, then, let’s see to Wyatt’s rig and get back to the house where I can experience just how totally hot you are.”

Twenty-Six

Rubi leaned against Wes on the ride home. Wyatt had been sleeping—for the first time since he’d come home from the hospital, according to Tori. So Rubi asked Tori some questions and planned to make adjustments to the rig when they got back to the house. She also needed to work on Wes’s father’s project. But Wes had other ideas.

He turned onto the drive and stopped in front of the house. “Hot damn,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “No one’s home.”

He pulled off his helmet, slid off the bike, and plucked her from the seat even as she was still taking her own helmet off. As soon as it cleared her mouth, he kissed her. An openmouthed, hungry kiss that floated on a long, equally hungry moan. His hands were everywhere, sliding up and down her body, cupping her head to pull her into another deep kiss. His tongue stroked hers as he walked her toward the front door.

“I’m gonna get you naked…” He tilted his head and kissed her hard. “And I’m going to taste every inch of your body…” He added his tongue and tasted her as he backed her up the stairs. “And I’m going to make love to you until you beg me to stop.”

The words sizzled through her lower body. She was already wet, aching for him. “I’m all over that, Lawson.”

He turned the knob behind her, pushed her inside, then shut it and nudged her toward the stairs to her bedroom. He smelled like leather and motorcycle and fresh air and Wes. The combination made Rubi’s head float.

“Where is everybody?” she asked, still backing up the stairs with Wes’s mouth on her neck, her heart beating hard, her pussy clenched with need.

“Dad had to go into St. Louis to see a vendor. Mom dropped Grams at the hairdresser and took the girls to a painting class in Washington. Whitney’s at work. And you are all fucking
mine
.”

His growl of ownership shot a pulse of lust straight between her legs and a jolt of something different, something hot and sweet, into her heart. She’d been wanted by many men. But they’d only wanted her body. They’d wanted sex. She’d neither offered more, nor chosen men who’d wanted more. Because she’d never wanted more either.

But she did now. She wanted more than sex with Wes. She didn’t understand what. Didn’t understand the craving gnawing at the inside of her belly. She only knew, somehow, she needed more. And she needed to make that happen right now.

They’d hit the landing. Wes’s hands greedily slid under her tank and cupped her breasts. Tingling heat scoured her skin, pleasure sinking deeper. Rubi moaned and leaned her head against his. “How do you know where everyone is?”

“Texts.” He unclasped the front of her bra and pushed the fabric out of the way. Then bent and closed his mouth over one nipple, sucking hungrily. The skin over her breast tightened and pulled. A thick knot of need pulsed between her legs. “Oh my God.” Rubi sank both hands into his hair. She loved the feel of it—soft and thick and curving all around her fingers. Need coiled hot and fast in her belly. Spread to her pussy. “Wes…”

They passed through the door of the bedroom, and he kicked it closed, then reached back and pushed the lock. Rubi released his hair to grab at his shirt, tearing it over his head. Then she ran her hands down his chest, his belly, and jerked at the button on his jeans. “You make me crazy.”

His mouth covered hers again, and she opened, taking his tongue in. He tore his mouth away, breathing hard, and whipped off her tank, pushed off her bra and started working on her pants.

“Jesus.” Her voice came out thin and frantic. “How can I want you more every damn time?”

“Because it’s that good.”

He pushed and tugged her jeans down her legs and was down to her panties while she was still struggling with his jeans. He closed his hands on her waist, lifted her off the floor. And tossed her on the bed. Rubi bounced with a shriek. Then started laughing. But Wes’s mouth closed over hers, drowning the humor in passion.

She shoved at his jeans, but he grabbed her hands, sandwiched them in one of his and pushed them over her head.

“I need some quality time with this body.” He other hand searched the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a green cord. “Without interruption.”

Still holding her wrists, he held out his other hand and a small bungee cord dangled from his fingers. “Think you can let go of control for a little while?”

His tone challenged her, and she hesitated. The thought both thrilled and terrified her.

“Don’t make me pull out the chicken noises, baby,” he said. “That could really ruin the mood.”

He stretched over her and started wrapping the bungee around her crossed wrists.

“Wes…”

He pressed a kiss to her lips even as his hands continued to move. “Say stop and I’ll stop.”

Her heart picked up speed and sound ebbed from her throat.

“Do you trust me, Rubi?”

She did. In that instant she realized at least that barrier had been destroyed. “Yes.”

A click signaled the hooks on the end of the bungee on the iron headboard. “Hold onto the metal, but don’t pull against the cord.”

She glanced up at an elaborate design of twists allowing her hands to slide without hurting. “Wes…I don’t know—“

He slid down her body and his mouth closed over one nipple.

Sensation tumbled through her body and she arched. Rubi’s eyes closed on a moan. Then his hands were everywhere, as feverish as they’d been on the way up the stairs and Rubi couldn’t think.

She grabbed onto a curve in the iron headboard and rubbed her hips against Wes’s. His erection bulged beneath his rough jeans, pressing into the heat between her legs. Then it was gone, way too soon, as he moved down her body, his hands sliding over her skin, his mouth kissing his way lower.

“Stop teasing me,” she said, her voice thick. “I need you.”

He pushed her thighs apart and opened his mouth over her pussy, licking and sucking through her panties. Stars lit off behind her eyelids. Rubi’s fingers grasped the metal harder and arched into the pressure and heat. She needed more. She needed him filling her. But her throat closed around her words. And the sounds that came from her mouth were more animal than human.

Wes never so much as paused his feast to drag her panties off, simply started licking her at one spot and slipped the silk down while licking her to the other. Then his mouth was on her skin. His fingers stroking and exploring. Demanding.