...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club by Debra Kayn Page A
Authors: Debra Kayn
Tags: Crime, Montana, romantic suspense, Motorcycle Club romance, outlaw motorcycle club, Older man younger woman, organized crime, biker series, May December romance, action and adventure, Russians, mob, carnival, biker gang, erotic bikers
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many times you left me to seek the comfort of one of the women who hang around the club. As if fucking someone else made you forget about me."
"Watch your mouth," he muttered.
"You're going to go back downstairs and have sex with that woman you were flirting with earlier, but it'll be me you're thinking about and wanting." She shook her head, trembling with anger. "Can't you see that I haven't changed?"
He stood and walked over to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and tossed the cap on the counter. She followed him to the other side of the room.
"You've changed." Battery raised his gaze and the anger radiating from him set her back. She shook her head. No, she hadn't.
She still wanted him. Her crushing, her admiration, her fascination, whatever the connection she had with him had never lessened but had grown stronger. If anything, she wanted him more and she understood her body's reasons for the way she reacted to him better because she'd matured. She wasn't a young girl pretending or curious.
At sixteen years old, she knew the basics about sex. At seventeen, she had a good idea what sex would feel like and wanted to experience what it'd be like with Battery. At eighteen, she wanted the closeness she would only find with him. Deep in her heart, she willingly accepted that Battery would be the only man in her life.
She'd been miserable, frustrated, and aroused for years wanting him.
"I love you, Battery," she whispered.
"You love me because I take care of you. I put a fucking roof over your head. I bought you a car. I gave you a family." His arms bulged underneath his T-shirt, and he banged his fist against the counter. "You love me like a father, and carny-girl, there is nothing fatherly about how I feel about you. You are not ready for me. You probably will never be ready."
She braced her hands on the island counter and leaned toward him on the opposite side. "That's what you don’t understand, Batt. I am ready. I don't know how many ways I can tell you or show you."
He stared into her eyes, and like he'd done a million times, he shut down and pushed away from the counter. "Don't wait up for me."
Frustrated by her lack of ability to convince him what they felt for each other wasn't wrong, she whispered, "Whatever woman you'll end up with tonight downstairs will not be me. None of them will be me, and you won't get what you need from any of them."
The door slammed shut. She flinched.
Whatever made him approach her at the carnival, to come back, to take her away, still resided inside of him. Living with him was a sweet blessing and a heartache. How long would he make both of them suffer?
She groaned and fisted her hands. There was nothing she could do to convince him that she was sincere and understood the ramifications of him sleeping with her while she was under his roof. Battery had the thought that he was untouchable and answered to no one, including her. He refused to listen.
The music downstairs played faintly in the background. Bree pursed her lips. Or, was there something she could do?
Why was she hiding upstairs in the house, sulking over Battery while he joined everyone else in Ronacks and lived it up?
She walked around the island, opened the drawer, and removed a pack of Battery's smokes. He'd never let her drink, but he couldn't stop her from smoking anymore. He couldn't stop her from going downstairs and dancing. He couldn't stop her from being in sight to tempt him to keep his hands and his dick away from the women he used to try to forget about how he felt toward her.
Chapter Eight
B ree stood on the pool table, gyrating her hips, her arms above her head, and her hair all over the fucking place. Battery remained leaned back in the chair with Jana straddling his lap facing him. The same position he was in when Bree marched into the room, and he damn sure wasn't going to move because she decided to join the club after her party.
Rod rolled his empty beer bottle across the table to Hazel, a friend
"Watch your mouth," he muttered.
"You're going to go back downstairs and have sex with that woman you were flirting with earlier, but it'll be me you're thinking about and wanting." She shook her head, trembling with anger. "Can't you see that I haven't changed?"
He stood and walked over to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and tossed the cap on the counter. She followed him to the other side of the room.
"You've changed." Battery raised his gaze and the anger radiating from him set her back. She shook her head. No, she hadn't.
She still wanted him. Her crushing, her admiration, her fascination, whatever the connection she had with him had never lessened but had grown stronger. If anything, she wanted him more and she understood her body's reasons for the way she reacted to him better because she'd matured. She wasn't a young girl pretending or curious.
At sixteen years old, she knew the basics about sex. At seventeen, she had a good idea what sex would feel like and wanted to experience what it'd be like with Battery. At eighteen, she wanted the closeness she would only find with him. Deep in her heart, she willingly accepted that Battery would be the only man in her life.
She'd been miserable, frustrated, and aroused for years wanting him.
"I love you, Battery," she whispered.
"You love me because I take care of you. I put a fucking roof over your head. I bought you a car. I gave you a family." His arms bulged underneath his T-shirt, and he banged his fist against the counter. "You love me like a father, and carny-girl, there is nothing fatherly about how I feel about you. You are not ready for me. You probably will never be ready."
She braced her hands on the island counter and leaned toward him on the opposite side. "That's what you don’t understand, Batt. I am ready. I don't know how many ways I can tell you or show you."
He stared into her eyes, and like he'd done a million times, he shut down and pushed away from the counter. "Don't wait up for me."
Frustrated by her lack of ability to convince him what they felt for each other wasn't wrong, she whispered, "Whatever woman you'll end up with tonight downstairs will not be me. None of them will be me, and you won't get what you need from any of them."
The door slammed shut. She flinched.
Whatever made him approach her at the carnival, to come back, to take her away, still resided inside of him. Living with him was a sweet blessing and a heartache. How long would he make both of them suffer?
She groaned and fisted her hands. There was nothing she could do to convince him that she was sincere and understood the ramifications of him sleeping with her while she was under his roof. Battery had the thought that he was untouchable and answered to no one, including her. He refused to listen.
The music downstairs played faintly in the background. Bree pursed her lips. Or, was there something she could do?
Why was she hiding upstairs in the house, sulking over Battery while he joined everyone else in Ronacks and lived it up?
She walked around the island, opened the drawer, and removed a pack of Battery's smokes. He'd never let her drink, but he couldn't stop her from smoking anymore. He couldn't stop her from going downstairs and dancing. He couldn't stop her from being in sight to tempt him to keep his hands and his dick away from the women he used to try to forget about how he felt toward her.
Chapter Eight
B ree stood on the pool table, gyrating her hips, her arms above her head, and her hair all over the fucking place. Battery remained leaned back in the chair with Jana straddling his lap facing him. The same position he was in when Bree marched into the room, and he damn sure wasn't going to move because she decided to join the club after her party.
Rod rolled his empty beer bottle across the table to Hazel, a friend
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