Driller: Dead Ringers MC Book 1 Page 10

  “Is there like a back door or something?” I ask. “I don’t wanna…”

  “Be seen with me?” he asks, putting his arm around me and laughing.

  “Get in your way. I’m sure you have a life outside of looking after me.”

  The way he squeezes me a little tighter is a weird feeling. “Call it whatever you want. It’s my pleasure. Just a heads-up, though; you might not want to wander too far off. I’m sure these pecker heads are chomping at the bit at the thought of fresh meat.”

  “So you had to put your dick in it first?” I ask, throwing my head back and laughing.

  “Trust me, that won’t stop anybody. This will though,” he says, making a fist. He kisses the top of my head as we both crack up.

  “I grew up in a tattoo shop, Driller. I’ve seen it all. You don’t have to warn me.”

  “Guess I just want you to know that I don’t want you to end up being some hang-around. I don’t want you to be a sweet butt for all my brothers to share. I want to make it very clear before we even walk through those doors that I already claimed you.”

  “You claimed me,” I say sarcastically with a smirk. “Isn’t that romantic.”

  “I knew you’d think so,” he says. We walk up the wooden steps and he shoots me a wink as he pulls the door open.

  “I’m gonna have to see all my options first,” I tease. “Just cuz you licked it doesn’t mean it’s yours, Driller.”

  He grabs me even tighter as we walk into the dimly lit barroom together. It’s definitely a stark contrast from the night before. Apparently everyone got the quiet sad portion of the mourning process out of their system and now they’ve moved on to the drink your face off and make bad life choices portion of the process. The music is loud, the place smells like cigars and leather, and we can barely move through the crowd.

  “You want a beer?” he asks. “Whiskey? Vodka? Something girly?”

  To be honest, the only thing I want is to not be standing in this room anymore. I feel so claustrophobic I can hardly breathe. Everyone is talking at me or to me, and I feel like I’m just hanging on to Driller’s side by a thread. Sensory overload or whatever you want to call it, I am way out of my element.

  We push our way to the bar, and the girl with the half-shaved head rolls her eyes at me as I ask for a glass of water. She’s really pretty and not just because of the wild hair or the dark makeup or the mesh dress that barely hides her curvy flesh. I get the feeling she is more than just a bartender. I get the feeling that maybe she’s that piece of meat Driller is trying to protect me from being.

  She slides his beer across the bar top and licks her lips, pretending like she’s not staring through me to see him.

  “Pearl wants a water,” he says, point-blank. “You want me to come back there and get it myself.”

  She makes a grunting noise as she slams around, acting like procuring a glass of water is the most challenging thing she’s been asked to do all night.

  She slaps the glass down in front of me, ice cubes falling out the top onto the bar.

  “Just because your dad died doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

  “Gwen…” Driller growls.

  “I can handle this,” I say to him. I pull a cigarette out of my pack and slowly light it up. “Gwen is it? I get it. You don’t have to like me. I will tell you that thing you got right here, that you’re trying to hide with your hair, I can easily fix that for you.”

  I reach for her neck, running my fingers over what looks like a pregnant mermaid who got hit in the face with a shovel.

  “It’s fine,” she says, pushing me away.

  “I can tell by the way you hold your neck it’s not fine. That’s not fair to you, Gwen. You’re a super pretty woman. You should have something you love. I don’t care how bad you hate me, I don’t think anybody needs to be walking around with objectively bad tattoos unless they mean something significant. I can tell the only thing that mermaid means is someone who had no idea what they were doing offered you a good deal.”

  She chomps down on her gum as she stares me up and down. She looks over at Driller and shrugs.

  “I didn’t want you to be cool,” she says with a laugh that lets me know she’s not going to throw a drink in my face or punch me in the nose. “But you do one thing to make this man suffer and I will drag you out into the parking lot and fuck your face up worse than my mermaid’s.”

  “Noted.” I grab my water and giggle a little bit as we walk away from the bar. “Let me guess, you claimed her at one point, huh?”

  “Wouldn’t exactly call it that,” he says. “Gwen’s been around a long time. It’s complicated.”

  I really don’t care how many women in this room he’s been with. As long as they’d just stop sneering at me like they want to rip me to shreds I’d be alright.

  I’m almost relieved when Stoney beelines his way over to us through the crowd.

  “Where have you two been?” he asks.

  “Sorry, I was a little overwhelmed. I just needed some fresh air. Needed to get away for a little bit,” I explain. “I didn’t mean to leave you guys with all that work. I promise tomorrow what you guys need help with, I’ll be there.”

  “Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to explain yourself. I do need to steal my nephew for a little bit if you don’t mind, though.”

  Driller squeezes my hand before walking off with Stoney. I really don’t know how to act. Some of these faces look familiar to me, maybe from my past and maybe just from passing earlier today. I scan the crowd for Betty, but she’s nowhere to be found.

  A man who legit looks more like the kind of biker you see on TV than the kind of biker who belongs in this clubhouse comes pacing towards me, a swagger in his step that’s almost laughable. There’s no doubt this guy is hot.

  “You Pearl?” he asks as he gets closer to me. He smells good. Like a combination of whiskey and mint. Everything about him screams fuckboy, from the gel in his hair to that cocky grin and five o’clock shadow.

  “Hi,” I say, extending my hand, trying to keep my composure. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Ransom,” he says. “Is it true what they’re saying?”

  “Probably,” I say with a shrug. “I guess it depends, though. Good or bad?”

  “Oh honey,” he says, licking his teeth. “I heard Driller claimed you as his.”

  “I guess,” I half ask. Word seems to travel fast here. I don’t understand what the big deal with this claiming nonsense is. Is this like the biker equivalent of going steady? Did I black out and miss some marriage ritual at some point today? There’s no doubt in my mind I like him, but I don’t see any reason for the hurry.

  “I mean, you’re wearing his jacket.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything,” I say. “It was cold.”

  “You know if he claimed you you’re going to have to prove it,” he says with a twisted smile that makes me think he’s picturing me without my clothes on. Makes me kind of uncomfortable the way he’s sizing up my body.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh Pearl, if your father wasn’t being cremated he’d probably be rolling in his grave,” he says, running his finger down my spine. The hair on my arm stands up at his touch. “Sorry, too soon.”

  “You’re kind of a creep, aren’t you?” I laugh nervously, still clueless as to what’s going on.

  “It’s kind of my thing, darling.”

  I didn’t realize how many people had started gathering around the two of us. Guys in leather vests that are obviously part of the club, girls with big hair and tight jeans, everyone is just kind of gawking as Ransom stands here drilling me about my relationship with Driller.

  “Is it true?” someone from the crowd mumbles.

  Ransom shoots a thumbs-up in the air and everyone starts whooping and cheering. For a moment, I’m kind of flattered. Maybe this is what it feels like to be chosen as a princess. I’m about to do a curtsy when
Driller grabs me by the arm and starts walking me across the room before I can even figure out what’s going on.

  Soon we are heading down the hallway towards the room I stayed in last night. I can barely keep up with him. I’m out of breath and really confused.

  “You alright?” I ask as he shoves me in the bedroom and closes the door behind us. “What’s wrong? Did Stoney have something to tell you about my dad?”

  The way he paces the room as he clutches his head in his hands is kind of sweet, but it kind of makes me nervous.

  “No, it’s nothin’,” he says.

  “What is going on then? Why is everybody acting so weird? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Pearl, you could never do anything wrong. You did everything right. You’re perfect.”

  I can’t help but fucking crack up over that one. “You’re kidding, right? Who says stuff like that?”

  “I don’t lie about shit. If I tell you that, I mean it.”

  “Just like you mean it when you said you claimed me, right?”

  He slaps his hands over his face again and makes a groaning sound.

  “What, you want to just throw me back out in the wild? I’m sure I won’t have any problem finding someone else, I mean, that Ransom dude, he seems alright.” I am having a hard time holding myself together here without falling off the bed in a fit of laughter. He sits down on the bed next to me.

  “No, absolutely not,” he says. “No Ransom, that’s for damn sure. He knows better than to even fucking try.”

  “Okay, I feel really fucking dumb right now. Is there something I’m not understanding? What is all this claiming nonsense? Can’t we just date like normal humans?”

  “That’s not how it works here, babe,” he says. “Sure we can date. We can fuck. We can do whatever. Claiming’s a whole different story, though. Claiming means you’re my old lady. And I’ll make you my old lady in a heartbeat, Pearl. Wouldn’t have even suggested it if I wasn’t dead nuts serious.”

  His eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue when he’s serious. I can tell he’s real serious. I can feel his heart beating through his fingertips. I can feel electricity in the breath he’s breathing on my neck. I gulp at the idea that maybe I’m taking this whole thing a little too lightly.

  “I never said this to any broad before. Nobody I ever dated. With you, I just knew it. I knew it in the truck yesterday. I knew it on the bike today. Something inside me told me I knew this for lifetimes and it’s the only way things can be.”

  “Driller, you don’t have to promise me anything. I like you. I’m not going anywhere. We can take this as slow as you want. You really don’t have to say all this, I swear.”

  He presses his lips to mine and I melt into the mattress. My heart is pounding so fast. This can’t be for real, this way I’m feeling? The things he’s saying. I feel it in my body. I feel it in my soul. My brain is telling me to be skeptical. To take it easy. Good things don’t happen to me. Good men don’t exist.

  And yet here he is, and even if the whole concept of being “claimed” is foreign to me to the point that it sounds cringeworthy in my head, as he lays me down on the mattress I know that, in some way, he has a small part of me. I have a small part of him, too. What he’s known for lifetimes. What I’ve denied for lifetimes. All these emotions. One of which is the need for him inside me right now.

  So different than the need back in the storage shed. That was only primal.

  As he climbs on top of me, pinning my hands over my head, I know this is more than primal. This is me giving myself over to him.

  Not admitting defeat. There’s no loser in this equation.

  I wrap my legs around the back of his thighs, grinding my hips to meet his erection, overwhelming even through his jeans. Our tongues swirl and he moans into my mouth.

  He kisses down my neck, and the feeling of his beard scratching my skin makes my toes curl. As he frees my hardened nipples from my bra and flicks his tongue over them slowly, I thrust to meet him more feverishly, my entire body begging for release.

  “You better settle down, babe,” he says, gripping my wrists tighter. “Now that we’re home, it’s gonna be a long night. You’re gonna want to save your energy.”

  I flex my fingers as he frees my hands and proceeds to tear my clothes off with a force so swift and brutal I’m surprised he’s not tearing the fabric. Fuck it, he could rip my clothes to shreds and I’d spend the rest of my life wearing him around like a weighted blanket. The way he flicks my clit through my soaked panties is all the comfort I’ll ever need.

  He pulls the fabric aside and I writhe underneath him, his callused fingertips dragging my wetness from my pussy back to my ass, and I shiver. It’s not unpleasant, but I’ve never been touched there before. He teases around the edge and I let out a loud moan as I feel his finger slip into my ass slowly and deliberately, his eyes locked on mine.

  “You like that, don’t you?” he growls with a teasing smile.

  I can’t even come up with words for how it feels. Good. Strange. Wrong. Right. My fingers travel to my clit and he groans in delight. There’s nothing sexier to me than pleasing him, than seeing him this turned on. I am about to cum while he finger fucks my ass. Something about him brings out the worst in me, but it feels so good.

  “You’re so fucking hot. Rub your clit for me. Cum with me in your ass, babe.”

  He slowly moves his finger in and out, each time fucking me a little harder, and as he slides another one in, stretching me further, my pussy throbs with this warm wet sensation, like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

  “Drench those fucking sheets, babe,” he says as I lose myself in complete ecstasy, my thighs trembling and my howls loud enough to wake the dead.

  “What the fuck?” I moan with a laugh as he pulls his fingers from me and plants a kiss on my hipbone. “What the fuck was that?”

  He chuckles before spreading my thighs and teasing at my supersensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. “That’s me giving you what you need, babe,” he says, firming the palm of his hand on my stomach as he batters my poor clit with his tongue. “You’re mine for a reason. And not just because your pussy tastes so good.”

  “Fuck me,” I plead. “I need you inside me.”

  He sucks my clit between his lips one more time before pulling down his jeans. I still can’t get over the length of his cock, the girth of it. I swear, in this light, it looks bigger than before.

  He pumps it in his fist and I swear it gets even bigger, and I lick my lips as a bead of precum glistens at the tip. I get on my knees and take it on my tongue.

  “God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he says, and for a second I allow myself to believe him. Maybe that’s why being with him feels so good. He could tell me anything and I’d believe him. He pulls a condom from the nightstand and slides it over his dick. Before I can think, he has me flipped over on my stomach and he sinks himself into my pussy in one hard thrust.

  “You make me so hard. Your pussy, it was made for me. It’s mine,” he moans, his voice gravelly and so sexy. His fingers dig into my hip bones hard enough that I know he’s going to leave a mark, but I don’t care. He’s got me so riled up all I can do is thrust back against him, taking every perfect inch inside me. That pleasure mixed with just a hint of pain, that’s what I’ve been missing my whole life.

  His hands roughly grope at my breasts. The way he thrusts into me, he seems to hit every sensitive spot in my body. He pushes his fingers into my clit and I explode with him.

  As he rolls me over and softly kisses my lips, my eyes, my cheeks, stroking my hair, I feel this warmth inside me I’ve never felt before, this aching tenderness, like I want to just crawl up next to him and cuddle. Like this is how things are supposed to be.

  He disappears into the bathroom for a little bit, and when he comes back out he gazes over my naked body with a cocky grin.

  He pulls his pack of cigs out of his jeans pocket and offers me one. I lay there sprawled out and h
e sits next to me, his fingers tracing circles on my stomach.

  There’s so much I want to say, so many questions I have about us, my dad, the club, what my life is going to look like from here on out, but right now the silence between us is so delicious. There’s no need to fill the air with empty conversation. No need to charge this moment with emotions that don’t need dredged up.

  He pulls back the covers on the bed as he stubs his cigarette out.

  I climb underneath the cool sheets, waiting for him to join me.

  He kisses me on the lips tenderly and pulls the covers up over me.

  “I have to go take care of some things, beautiful,” he says. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”

  It’s hard to hide the disappointment on my face. “It’s damn near midnight. What could you possibly have to do?”

  I feel like a desperate idiot when the words come out of my mouth.

  He raises his eyebrows and kisses me again. “You just relax. If you’re not ready for bed, you’re more than welcome to go hang out with the crew.”

  I shake my head. “Baby steps,” I say. “They’re great and all but…”

  “It’s a lot.” He lifts the blanket up and stares down my body, biting his lip. He runs his fingers over my bruised hip. “Makes me fucking hard all over again. You’re dangerous, woman.”

  “You gonna come back for round two?” I tease.

  “Before you even know it.” He puts the blanket back down and tosses me the TV remote. “I promise, Pearl, there’s nothing more I want to do than to come back to you.”

  He kisses me one last time before I watch him walk out the door.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Driller

  “How quick can we fucking make this?” Ransom asks. “These guys sketch me out.”

  He’s not the only one in a hurry to get back to the house. I’m trying to see the big picture here, trying to fight the urge to say fuck it and hole up with Pearl for the rest of my life and just let this shit sort itself out.