Tease: A Kings of Korruption MC Novel Read online

  “This scar doesn’t define you, Travis,” she whispers

  Fuck. I avert my eyes, unable to look at her for a moment, trying to gather my feelings and speak a coherent fucking sentence. “I know that. But not everyone does.” She purses her lips, not happy with my response. “My whole fuckin’ life has been one huge fight.”

  Tears swim in her eyes, threatening to slip over the edge. “My step-father gave me this fuckin’ scar. My mother fuckin’ watched him do it. That same night, he killed my fuckin’ dog. The son-of-a-bitch ruined my life in a drunken rage, and my mother stayed. She stayed, Laynie. I kept waiting for her to leave him, but she didn’t. So I ran.”

  A single tear slips down her cheek, but her voice is even when she whispers, “How old were you?”

  “Nine,” I grind the word out, not wanting her pity, but suddenly desperate for her understanding. I want her to know why I’ve become who I am.

  Her hand slides from my cheek and down my shoulder and arm until she reaches my hand. “Did they find you?”

  Staring at our linked hands, I scoff. “They never looked.” I take a deep breath and force myself to continue. I need to tell her the rest so she’ll finally fucking understand.

  “I lived on the streets for a few days before the fuckin’ cops found me. They tracked down my mom, and she told them she couldn’t handle me anymore. Fuckers had me put into foster care, who then sent me to live in a goddamned group home. The little bastards that lived there beat the shit out of me every fuckin’ day. I was just a scrawny kid with a fucked-up face. Easiest fuckin’ target they ever had. When I was sixteen, I finally snapped and beat the shit out of one of them. I spent the next two years in juvie.”

  She smiles sadly. “Wow.”

  “So, I know this scar doesn’t fuckin’ define me, but it has defined how people treat me. I’ve had to keep to myself out of fuckin’ necessity. People never fail to fuck me over.”

  She tilts her head to the side a little. “What about the Kings?”

  I straighten my shoulders and shake my head. “The club’s different. They don’t give a fuck how I look. I’m one of ‘em.”

  “Then I’m glad you’ve found them, Travis.” She takes a step closer to me, pressing my back into the wall. “You know, I don’t give a fuck how you look either.” She smirks. “I can’t even see you.”

  Her words cause a slow grin to grow on my face. How can this feisty little woman make me feel better about myself with just one short conversation? Shaking my head, I chuckle softly. “Smartass.”

  A warm smile spreads across her face, and I swear I feel some of the ice around my heart start to melt. “Now what?” she asks.

  I stare at her, unsure of what to say. Can I do this? Can I be with this woman, like Ryk is with Charlotte? They make it work and seem so happy together. I never imagined I could ever have the same, but suddenly I want it. I want it so fucking bad. I reach out, take her by the hips and pull her into me, her body pressing up against mine. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do.”

  Surprised, I look down at her.

  “We need to take it slow. From the sounds of things, you have a hard time trusting people, but the truth is, Travis, I like you. A lot.” She blushes. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

  My heart pounds. “What do you suggest?”

  “How about we start with …” She grins wickedly. “A bike ride.”

  A grin slowly takes over my face. “That I can do.”

  After leaving Dex with a very happy Mouse, Travis silently leads me toward his bike. Excitement pulses through my body like an electric current. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before, but the thought of it has my head spinning.

  Travis comes to a stop, and I stand still, silently waiting. I hear him fiddling with something before he places a heavy object on my head. I reach up and feel the hard outer shell of the helmet as he sets about doing up the chin strap.

  “Ready?”

  I just grin and nod before his massive hands encircle my waist, and he places me on the seat of the bike. Feeling him settle in between my legs, my excitement suddenly changes to something quite different. He’s so big compared to me, his body broad and hard as a rock. Heat builds low in my belly when he fires up the bike. It grows hotter still when he reaches back and yanks me tight against him.

  “Hang on.” God. I love the sound of his growl.

  And then, slowly, we’re moving. I know we’ve hit the open road when the bike starts moving faster. I’m flying. The wind beats against my face, whipping the ends of my hair around. I laugh, pure joy filling my heart.

  “This is amazing!” I holler, hoping he can hear me over the rush of the wind and the loud growl of the motor.

  He reaches down, squeezing my knee briefly before speeding up even faster. I squeal in delight, holding onto him tightly with my thighs as I throw my arms up in the air and just feel it. Freedom. Absolute, uninhibited freedom.

  Eventually, I lower my arms and wrap them back around Travis’s waist, a grin spread from ear to ear. Ducking my head behind his back to block the wind, I do what I’ve wanted to do since that first time I bumped into him in the coffee shop. I count his abs.

  His body stiffens as I let my fingers roam across his belly, but I don’t care. I feel invincible. My breathing grows heavier as I count. There are eight in total. Eight! I’ve never touched a man’s abs before, but even I know that an eight-pack is not the norm. Travis is stacked.

  Feeling the bike slow, I wonder silently where we are as Travis pulls the bike down a bumpy road. Turning it off, he sits there, the only movement is that of his heavy breaths.

  “Travis?”

  Suddenly, I’m alone on the bike and before I even get a chance to wonder where the hell he went, his hands grasp each side of my helmet, and he slams his mouth down onto mine. I gasp in surprise before reaching up, wrapping my arms around his neck and yanking him closer.

  I’ve kissed Travis before, but this is hotter, more passionate – claiming. He growls and grabs me by the hips, sliding my body down the seat until I’m lying flat. A moan escapes me as I run my hand down his back and cup the most magnificent ass ever made. We kiss like we need each other to breathe, hearts pounding, tongues dueling, and I don’t know about his, but my head is swimming.

  I want more — so much more — but I don’t want to push him. I’d told him we needed to take it slow, so even though I may be ready to rip off his clothes and ride him into oblivion, I need to wait for him to take the lead. When his hand cups my breast, I am instantly aware of the sudden state of my panties. I mew into his mouth, gyrating my hips in need.

  His thumb grazes over my nipple and the pleasure is so great, I gasp loudly, pulling my mouth from his to catch my breath. His body goes still, and then I feel him start to pull away, but I catch his bottom lip in my teeth and flick it with my tongue. And then I’m alone on the bike, panting and aroused, but Travis is panting from somewhere to my right.

  I feel the loss in both my heart and in my clit. I want him back. “Travis?”

  “I never kissed a woman before you.” His breaths are heavy, but his words are growled.

  “Never?” I thought bikers were a bunch of sluts? He doesn’t respond. The thought of being his first kiss is thrilling — empowering. I’ve never kissed a man either. Teenage boys from my youth don’t count. They aren’t even in the same league as Travis.

  I grin widely. “That’s awesome!”

  “What?” He doesn’t sound like he believes me.

  “That’s awesome. We’ve kissed twice, and both times, I was amazing! You’re a lucky guy.”

  Silence, then, “Jesus.”

  I giggle. After a minute, I grow serious. “Why haven’t you ever kissed a woman?”

  “Who the fuck would want to kiss me?” he snarls.

  I don’t let it bother me. Travis is harsh, but his anger isn’t directed at me. “I would. Do it again. I’ll prove it.”

  He snorts. “You’re cra
zy.”

  I smile again. “I know.”

  His hand grasps mine, and he pulls me into a sitting position. Readjusting the helmet on my head, I move to the back of the seat. Just as he’s climbing back on the bike, I call out. “Travis?”

  He pauses but says nothing.

  “Next time you kiss me like that, can you at least take the helmet off? Helmets aren’t even a little bit sexy.”

  “You are the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before starting up the motorcycle and driving back toward the road. My heart soars. He thinks I’m sexy! Well … I am. The man knows what he likes. I am a crazy, sexy bitch, and he loves every second of it.

  Snuggling into his back, I relax and just enjoy our ride home. We’re riding in silence, my arms around him, his thumb rubbing back and forth across my knee when the roar of another engine grows louder in my ears. I hear it before I feel it. The impact from the left sends me flying. I barely register the crunch of metal as my shoulder skids across the pavement, burning my skin.

  Like a bad dream, I keep sliding, hearing the bike rolling through the ditch behind me. I come to a stop and lie there, panting. Laughter and the squeal of tires rings through the haze. My skin burns, and I know I’m hurt. My right shoulder is screaming in pain, and I can’t catch my breath.

  “Travis?” I can barely get the words out. My chest is heaving trying to take in some air, but I can’t make a sound. I lie there for a few seconds before trying again. “Travis?”

  No response. Gingerly, I get up from the ground and crouch, left hand in front of me, searching for him. I call out his name a few more times, but all I hear is the pinging of hot metal and the wheezing coming from my own lungs.

  Fear for Travis wells up inside me, bringing me to my knees. What if he’s dead? It’s just like Garrett. We had been in that car for hours after our accident, and the whole time he’d been dead. I couldn’t have saved him because I had a head injury of my own, but I can save Travis. I have to.

  Reaching into my back pocket, I feel the edge of my phone and slide it out. I can feel the cracks on the screen and pray that it works. Holding down the button, I hear the little ding that lets me know it’s ready for me to talk, and I holler out, “Call 911!”

  “I JUST HOPE HE remembers what the fuck happened.”

  “Do you really think it was them?”

  “I fucking know it was.”

  The hushed conversation is the first thing I hear as the fog lifts. Next is the constant beeping from a nearby machine. What the fuck? I try to open my eyes, but they feel glued shut.

  “Look at her fuckin’ face, man. Tease is gonna be pissed.”

  This last sentence, followed by a grunt of agreement, has me struggling to wake up. Who are they talking about? Laynie? Fuck. Why can’t I open my fucking eyes? With a groan, I manage to use every fucking muscle in my face to finally get my eyelids to crack open a bit.

  Through my blurred vision, I see a person move to stand over me. “Tease? Man, you OK?” Fucking Mouse.

  I groan again, forcing my eyelids open farther. “Ryk! He’s awake.” Even though he’s whispering, his voice rings loudly through my pounding head. I see Ryker step up beside him. What the fuck is going on?

  “Hey, brother. It’s fuckin’ good to see you. You had us worried there for a bit.”

  I stare at Ryker, wondering what the fuck he’s talking about when a flashback hits me. Driving with Laynie, her arms flung back in fuckin’ joy, kissing her. And then, a large van coming out of nowhere and ramming into the side of us. I grit my teeth through the pain and bolt upright in bed. “Laynie?”

  “Shhh. She’s fine. Sleepin’ in the corner so shut up, would ya?” I glare at Ryker, and he smirks. “Do you remember what happened?”

  Lying back on the bed, I sigh. “Didn’t see much. Fuckin’ van came out of nowhere and rammed into the side of us. That’s it.”

  “Laynie said she heard men laughing after the crash and tires squealing as they took off. It had to have been the fucking Devils.”

  Rage erupts in my chest, burning through me like a wildfire. I look over to where Laynie sleeps, curled up in a straight-back chair, sound asleep with Dexter at her feet. She has scrapes covering half of her face, on her cheek, and chin. The rage builds. Those fuckers almost killed us – almost killed her. They are going to die, and I’m the one that’s going to make it happen.

  “She’s fine, man.” I spear Ryker with my eyes. Fine? She’s covered in road rash. “She’s pretty scraped up, but mostly she’s been worried about you. You had a head injury that made it a little scary there for a while. She’ll be glad you’re awake.”

  I stare at her again, pissed that she got caught up in our club shit. “They’re gonna die.”

  “They are. We’re gonna fuckin’ kill every last one of those cocksuckers,” Ryker growls.

  I look down at the wires and tubes sticking out of me and clench my jaw. “Let’s go.”

  Ryker chuckles. “Not happenin’, man. You’re gonna be here a while yet. Sit back and get better. We won’t move on the sons-of-bitches until you get out.” I glare at him, jaw clenched. The need to draw blood from the Devils nearly undoes me. I need to get out of here.

  Just then, the doctor walks in. He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Take these fuckin’ tubes out of me. I’m leavin’.”

  His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he just looks down at his clipboard. “Mr. Hale. You suffered trauma to the head and severe skin abrasions to twenty percent of your body. You were unconscious for more than twelve hours. You won’t be going anywhere.”

  “Fuck yo –“

  “Travis?” Her sleep clouded voice calls out in distress from the other side of the room and all of our heads turn toward her.

  “I’m here, babe.”

  Tears fill her eyes, and she sits upright, gathering the blanket from her lap as she stands. “Oh, honey. I was so scared.” She reaches out, hands searching for the bed as she walks toward me. I move my arm to meet her, but pain slices through me when I do.

  “That would be the abrasions,” the doctor whispers.

  I narrow my eyes at him just as Laynie reaches the bed. Tears are freely flowing down her cheeks. My gut tightens. I hate seeing her like this. Our hands finally meet, and she grasps mine tightly in hers. “Are you OK?”

  “Will be as soon as this fuckin’ doctor lets me go the hell home,” I growl, eyes narrowed on the dick in the lab coat.

  “Go home?” A crease forms between her brows. “You can’t go home! You were hurt in a motorcycle accident, Travis.”

  No shit. “And now I’m fuckin’ fine.”

  “You’re not! You had a head trauma. They aren’t something to take lightly. Take it from me.”

  How the fuck can I argue with that? Gritting my teeth, I flop my head back onto the pillow. Ryker chuckles, and Mouse makes a whip cracking sound with his mouth. I whip my head to glare at them, trying to pierce them with my eyes as the doctor starts listing off my medical concerns.

  I don’t give a fuck. I just want to get out of here and kill those bastards. They almost killed Laynie. The doctor’s still talking when I cut off his speech. “How long?”

  He looks me directly in the eyes. I have to give the man respect. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of me at all. “We need to keep you under observation for at least twenty-four hours.”

  “Fuck.”

  Ryker clears his throat. “All right. I’m gone. Rest up, brother. This is just the beginnin’.”

  Defeated, I just nod. Mouse turns to Laynie. “You need a ride?”

  “No. I’m going to stay here with Travis and make sure he stays in that bed.” I scowl at her.

  Mouse laughs. “Gotcha. See ya, Tease.” He leans in and kisses Laynie on the cheek. I want to rip the fucker’s lips off. “See ya, gorgeous.”

  “Bye, Mouse. Bye, Ryker,” she calls.

  They leave the room, and I turn to face Laynie. She smiles and runs her han
d across the bed. Determining there’s enough room for her, she climbs up and curls next to me with her head on my shoulder. Needing to keep her close, I pull the blankets up over her and wrap my uninjured arm around her waist.

  Kissing my pec, she mumbles, “I’m so glad you’re OK.”

  I give her a squeeze and feel the pull of sleep dragging me down. I bury my nose into her strawberry-smelling hair, and after only a few seconds, I fall fast asleep.

  I wake up draped across Travis’s chest. I nuzzle him with my cheek thinking he’s still asleep when I notice that he’s lying beneath me, stiff as a board. I sit up quickly, worried that I’m hurting him somehow.

  “Travis?”

  Silence, then, “You need to go.”

  I jerk in surprise, frowning deeply. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He sounds angry, and I don’t understand what’s going on.

  I place my uninjured hand on his cheek. “Why?”

  “We can’t do this. It’s not safe.”

  Confused, I pull back, wishing more than anything I could see his face. “What’s not safe?”

  “This. Us. We can’t do it. Shit’s goin’ on with the club, and it’s only gonna get worse.”

  Confusion gives way to anger. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stand. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  “You almost fucking died!” he roars.

  I step closer, leaning over the bed, and calmly say, “But I didn’t.” He says nothing. And then it dawns on me. “You’re scared.”

  He scoffs. “Of what?”

  I throw my hands up in the air. “Of us.”

  “Fuck that.” I can hear the venom in his voice, but I don’t let it faze me. I’m tired of his back and forth bullshit.

  “You are. You’re using the first excuse that comes along to end this between us before it even gets started. You’re scared, and you’re pushing me away.” Silence. “For fuck’s sake, Travis, it’s not like I’m asking you to fucking marry me! I like you. I want to get to know you. I –“