Her Rough Ride: An unputdownable sexy biker MC romantic suspense novel Read online

  Her Rough Ride

  An unputdownable, sexy biker MC romantic suspense novel

  Heather Van Fleet

  Books by Heather Van Fleet

  Her Wild Ride

  Her Rough Ride

  Available in audio

  Her Wild Ride (Available in the UK and the US)

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Her Wild Ride

  Hear more from Heather

  Books by Heather Van Fleet

  A Letter from Heather

  Prologue

  Sebastian

  “Tell me about another god, Story Boy.” She rolled over on her side to face me, and the bed shifted beneath us. Every time I inhaled I smelled her vanilla-scented skin. I think I was addicted to the lotion she wore or something because it’s all I thought about.

  “Which one?”

  “Poseidon.”

  I stared up at the ceiling and frowned. “You know about him already. He’s the god of the sea.”

  “I love the ocean. Especially the Pacific.”

  I heard the smile in her words, then quickly glanced at her mouth just long enough to torture myself. I shut my eyes and exhaled a second later, wishing I hadn’t bothered. Now all I’d thinking about tonight was that lip gloss she was wearing—and whether or not it tasted as sweet as it smelled.

  “I’m gonna live near there someday. Guarantee it,” she added.

  “Where?”

  “California.” She sighed. “Not Malibu, but maybe San Diego. I hear they have some pretty great beaches.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You could visit me there if I do move.”

  I wondered how that would work, seeing as how the girl barely talked to me during the day. Would she make an exception to that rule when she lived by the beach? That seemed unlikely, but what did I know about the opposite sex anyway?

  “Maybe.” I shrugged then started in about Poseidon again. It was safer for me to talk about mythology and Greek gods. Why? The past is documented, not to mention definable, but the future is undetermined, which scared the hell out of me.

  “So, Poseidon’s the god of the sea, earthquakes, and horses. His siblings are Hades, Demeter, Hestia, Zeus…” I went on, throwing facts out there like I always did. Flick, my guardian and the vice president of the Red Dragon MC, said I had a brain most would kill for, but I wasn’t so sure.

  “Have you always been this smart?” she asked when I finished.

  I shrugged, not liking compliments. They made me feel weird.

  “I’ve never known anyone who can spout stuff off like you. It’s… cool.”

  My face got hot, and I looked the other way, hoping my cheeks weren’t red. Being smart was good and all, but that meant nothing in the world I lived in if I didn’t know how to kill a man—least that’s what my uncle, Pops, told me.

  The thought of the Red Dragon club president had my gut squeezing. The guy scared the hell out of me because I regularly saw what his fists could do. My cousin, Niyol—his son—usually got the worst of it, but I’d seen him raise a hand at some of the others before. The younger ones, mostly. Flick tried to keep me away from Pops’s wrath, but now that I was a few months from turning eighteen, I was pretty sure I’d have to run from the club for good, or join up as a prospect.

  I lifted my arms and put both hands behind my head, not wanting to waste time thinking about that tonight. My nights were hers, and only hers. Nothing else mattered when we were together like this.

  “You ever think about getting a tattoo?” she asked out of the blue.

  I shook my head, letting it drop to the side to look at her again.

  “You should.” A tiny line formed between her eyebrows as she studied me. “I’d totally draw something if you wanted. A design template right here with a black Sharpie.” She leaned closer and placed her hand over my heart.

  I froze.

  Delicate fingers spread over my pec. She lifted her gaze again, and I swear to Christ, her eyes sparkled as she searched my face. Beneath her soft palm, my skin started tingling too. Warm and electric, kind of like static, but hotter. It made me wonder if she had magic powers or something—a goddess in disguise, hiding behind her perfect, human skin.

  “Maybe.” I cleared my throat, staring ahead at my dresser, nearly losing the last of my control.

  “Tell me about another one.” She kept her hand on my chest. “How about a goddess this time?”

  I blew out a slow breath. “What about Persephone? You want to hear about her?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “You’ve never heard of Persephone?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Nope. What are her strengths?”

  I sighed, prepping for an all-nighter. Before she and her mom, June, had come to stay with me and Flick a few weeks ago, I used to sleep like a baby. Now, I was lucky if I got two hours a night. Not that I cared. Every time I told her a different mythological fact, she got all excited, her pretty eyes sparkling like stars.

  The best part of our nights together, when I wasn’t talking to her, were when she’d lay her head on my chest without asking and tell me that the sound of my heartbeat kept her bad dreams away. Seeing as how I liked smelling her lotion, liked her close to my body even more, I figured it worked out for both of us.

  “Okay. Persephone’s greatest strengths…” I dug into my memory, coming up with the first two things I could think of. “She’s good at compromising and she’s adaptable to situations.”

  “Her weaknesses?”

  “Wanting to please everyone.”

  She hummed and shut her eyes. The second they were closed, I missed them. All hazel and wide… sometimes they looked green in the sun. Golden when she was riled up about something. Then when it was rainy out, or she was sad, they seemed to turn brown. One thing I knew for sure: I’d never seen eyes as beautiful as hers before.

  I always wondered what she’d do if I tried to kiss her. Taste that lip gloss and the mint on her breath from her toothpaste. If I did try, I’d probably screw up somehow, ruin whatever we were. Secret friends in the night—is that what she called us?

  It was stupid. I didn’t know why she couldn’t talk to me during the day. But at the same time, I never asked because I was worried she’d stop letting me come lie with her in my bed if I did. She’d taken over my room, made it her own, while I crashed on the couch… well, up until a few weeks ago, that is.

  “Persephone sounds a lot like me,” she whispered.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because…” She paused. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was please people.”

&
nbsp; “You don’t need to try to please me.” I liked her just how she was.

  Her lips ticked up on one side, but then she leaned in, distracting me from saying anything else.

  My body grew rigid, and I waited, not knowing what to expect—this was the closest she’d ever been to my mouth. She pressed her forehead to my chin, and because I couldn’t help it, my dick got all hard, throbbing against the zipper of my jeans. I shut my eyes, waiting, feeling the heat of her mouth against my throat…

  Then she used her fingers and started tracing the pulse at my neck, and every nerve inside my body started humming. Begging.

  Back and forth.

  Up and down.

  Over and over and over…

  I licked my dry lips, breath heavy, waiting for something.

  Anything.

  Everything.

  God, I wanted to kiss her. Lift her chin up, press my mouth to hers, and just… do it.

  But then she sighed, breaking the silence. “See, that’s the thing about you, Sebastian. Unlike everyone else I know, you always make me feel like I’m worth something.”

  I swallowed hard, not expecting her to get so serious. It didn’t match with our position—how our thighs were pressed together, how my hard-on was shoved against her stomach. I knew she had to feel it, but she didn’t comment—didn’t make a move to touch me anywhere but my neck and chest either. Not that she ever would.

  We were friends, that was all. I knew better than to think anything else. Still, that didn’t stop me from saying what I said next.

  Why? Because I was pretty damn sure I was in love with this woman.

  “You’re worth everything to me.”

  She didn’t speak, but she did urge me onto my back. Not bothering to look at my face, she laid on my chest, settling her ear against my heart like every other night.

  My throat ached when I tried to swallow. Disappointment I didn’t want to feel made it almost too hard to breathe. Still, I wouldn’t ask her what she was thinking because I was scared of what her answer would be. When she finally did reply, her words… they hurt. A heart-throbbing, burning kind of hurt that I’d never get over.

  Or forget.

  “You’re incredibly stupid for thinking that, Story Boy.”

  One

  Slade

  Eight years later

  In all my years of being a Red Dragon, there was one rule I followed religiously: be the best brother I could be.

  If being the best meant riding an hour through the suburbs to get Hawk some expensive-ass Nicotine gum to curb his cravings, then I’d do it. If being the best meant slicing a fucker across the neck because he messed with my club pres, Flick, or going to the pen just to keep my oldest friend, Archer, out of trouble, then I wouldn’t hesitate to do either of those things.

  But there was one thing I refused to do. One thing I could not manage, even if it meant life or death. And that was flying to California to pack up Flick’s niece and bring her back to the club without a single hair missing from her head. Why was that? Because I hated Maya Davenport more than anyone else in this world.

  “Ain’t gonna happen,” I told my pres. “Get Chop to do it. Or what about Hawk?” Seeing as how he’d been her damn fuck buddy once.

  I glared at my cousin, Niyol—Hawk—Lattimore, for good measure. Dark eyes like my own narrowed back at me from his seat across the table in Church. Did he know what I was thinking? I sure as hell hoped he did. Wasn’t exactly in the mood to say more than I had to.

  His feet were kicked up on the edge of the chair and his hand rubbed furiously at his jaw. If I hadn’t known Hawk my entire life, I probably would’ve pissed my pants at the sight. Lucky for my boxers, I was immune.

  People said we looked more like brothers than cousins. Same dark hair, dark eyes, forever tanned skin. I didn’t put too much stock in it myself because the two of us couldn’t be more different on the inside.

  “Summer and I are just getting our shit together,” Hawk argued. “I’m not leaving her for longer than I already have.”

  Last July, Hawk went on a little road trip of his own, running from the club after getting out of prison. Summer, his sister’s best friend, was the one who took him. He’d been heading to see Maya, as he planned on hiding out with her in San Diego—away from the club that he thought was out to get him. But an attack from Pops, along with the fact that he’d fallen for his blonde escort, had him changing his mind, and coming back home to Rockford—for good this time.

  Still. Did they really need more fucking time to get their shit together? Hell no. “It’s been seven months. How much more time do you need?”

  “You got no idea what it’s like,” Hawk sneered, his right eye twitching. “And unless you find someone permanent to warm your bed at night, then I’m pretty sure you’ll never know.”

  Having an old lady tie me down? Screw that. Up until last year, Hawk would’ve agreed with me.

  No matter. The bottom line was the two of them had plenty of time to get back into the game. Hawk and Summer were just too busy fucking like bunnies, living out their happy-go-lucky lives up the road from the club in their new, perfect house, to do anything important club-wise.

  Flick leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table. He was the picture of calm today, surprisingly. “You’re the road captain, Slade. It’s your job to go on runs.”

  “Runs are one thing, but babysitting? Hell no.” Especially not when it came to her.

  “My niece doesn’t need a babysitter.” He laughed. “She’s a big girl who just so happens to need a bodyguard, and you’re the only one who’s free right now to make it happen.”

  “And who’s going to protect everyone else while I’m away, huh?” I should’ve been the guy leading the charge when it came to protecting the RDs. Especially now. A prospect had just been killed. My prospect. I should’ve been the one finding the guy responsible for taking down Carlos’s killer, damn it.

  Young, eighteen, eyes wide and ready to see the world as an RD brother. Carlos had wanted to be the one to go on our run about two weeks ago. That was proof he’d been ready to patch in. He’d told me to stay behind, that he was fine on his own, and because I’d been too busy having relations with a bottle of Jack, I’d waved him off. Given him the keys to my bike, too, because I liked the kid. Trusted him. Knew he had a hard-on for my Harley. It went against club rules to let him leave on his own, but even Flick hadn’t seen the harm in him taking parts into town.

  When he hadn’t shown that night for a party at the club, though, me and Arch had gone off looking for him, thinking he’d gone to visit his girl or some shit. I’d been pissed—he was on my bike, for fuck’s sake. But a couple miles outside the compound, we’d seen him in a ditch, bloodied body thrown off my bike. At first, we’d thought it was an accident—it’d been raining all day. Then when we’d got close enough to see the three bullet holes in the back of his head, we’d known that wasn’t the case.

  He’d been picked off.

  Since then, I’d been making it my duty to protect anyone and everyone at the club. Old ladies, groupies, hang-abouts, my brothers… Flick told me I had a hero complex, to get over whatever was bugging me. But what my pres didn’t know was that I’d never forgive myself for what happened to Carlos. So to leave for California like he was asking of me? That shit wasn’t gonna happen.

  “We’re fine here.” Flick shrugged. “Golden, really.”

  “Golden? Carlos was just picked off two weeks ago, damn it. And you don’t even know who did it.”

  He sighed, a hand in the air, placating. “This shit’s personal for you, I get that. But you need to let it go for a while. Give yourself some time to relax. Go to California, get Maya.” A shrug. “Call it a vacation, if you wanna.”

  “I don’t need a damn vacation. I need to be here so I can make sure nobody else gets offed.”

  “There’s nothing you can do for us that we can’t do for ourselves, am I right, boys?” Flick looked around, gaining
nods of approval from a few other brothers in the room: Chop, Hawk, Crazy…

  “Flick’s right,” Hawk added. “Go get Maya. It’s only a couple days anyway.”

  Ignoring my cousin again, I kept my gaze locked on Flick’s. He may have taken care of me after my old man was murdered when I was kid, but things were different now. I wasn’t a kid anymore. And at this point in time, I was willing to pull every last string I had left just to keep shit around here safe. To not let what happened to Carlos happen to anyone else.

  And to avoid this damn trip, most of all.

  So, I tried a different angle right then, pulling the card I’d sworn I’d never use.

  “You really want me, a guy who’s seconds from losing his shit, to go play bodyguard to your niece? Cause I can guarantee you that my head is not in the right place.”

  Flick rose from his seat, still too calm for my liking. If he didn’t have a beard down to the middle of his chest and newly buzzed hair with tats all over his head, he would’ve looked regal.

  He cocked his head to one side, moving to stand in front of me. “You telling me no then, Sebastian?”

  I flinched, knowing I’d walked right into that one. That son of a bitch was long gone, tucked away in the pit fires of my own, current hell. Sebastian was nothing more than a pain-in-the-ass wimp who felt too much and loved too damn hard. I’d given up on being him when I’d prospected. He didn’t belong in this world. Slade did.