Rebel (Renegades #2)(86)
Author: Skye Jordan

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 f**king restraining order against this ass**le, 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, f**ker.”

“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 pu**y 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 f**king 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 br**sts. 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 pu**y. “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?”