Page 89

Raven

I repeat my question, staring at him expectantly. I may’ve fucked the oversized biker, but he’s an idiot to think I won’t defend myself if he grabs me like he did from behind. Who does that sort of thing to a deaf woman? I’ll tell you who, someone wanting a lead hole to decorate their body.

“I—” he begins and trails off. He catches me by surprise once more when his hands leave my hips to raise. He holds them out in surrender at first, then, slowly, as he’s not had enough practice, begins to sign as he speaks. “I saw you walking. I was worried about you being alone and tried to prove a point on your safety.”

“And?” Both of my brows are raised. This is Texas, most of the women I know are smart enough to conceal carry, especially if they’re going somewhere alone. He should’ve considered I’d be locked and loaded for this specific scenario.

He continues to speak and sign at the same time, slowly, but I appreciate the consideration he’s offering me. “You called me on it, put me in my place. I’m sorry, beautiful, if I scared you. You had me worrying about your safety, but I had no idea you are packing and know how to use that nine.”

My hand is steady, and I don’t blink as I nod. “It’s small, but gets the job done. You think you’re the first man to sneak up on me?” I ask, and his face turns stony. Men always believe small women are easy targets, and I refuse to give any of them the satisfaction of gaining the upper hand with me. I will bury someone before I allow them to rape, traffic, or kill me.

“Give me a name.” His words are growled, I don’t doubt it for a second by the way his lips move with them. Threateningly. Promising a retribution I’m sure I can’t imagine if he’s given the chance. “I will protect you for as long as you allow me to,” he swears with such sincerity that I don’t doubt it for a minute.

“Why are you looking for me?” I question instead, ready to move us past this moment.

“I don’t want any of them.” He gestures over his shoulder toward the club and then begins to speak and sign again. Is it weird how I kinda love it when he communicates by ASL? “I only want you; I’m yours, no one else’s. Want to come to my clubhouse with me? We’re chillin’ with some brothers from out-of-town.”

“You need dancers for your party?”

He nods. “I also want you there, for me.”

“To fuck?”

He shrugs. “Or to just kick back and chill by my side. Have a drink, relax.”

I release a sigh, putting my Smith you’re the only one I’ve had my eyes on since you showed up.”

I can’t help but smirk. It feels good having him admit as much, even being surrounded by naked women, he only notices me. Granted, I take my clothes off too, but still, he wants me and not any of the other beautiful women I work with. “You want me to dance for you?”

“Only if you want to, but I’m not going to lie, I’d love for you to. You dance like a goddess.” He runs his palm over his shaved head as his gaze skirts me from head to toe. He likes what he sees, I have no doubt by the desire swirling in his gaze. Powerhouse is sin and sex and everything else made to draw me to him.

My cheeks warm from his sweet compliment, and I pause a beat, staring when he holds his hand out to me. My eyes flash to his—warm, safe, sexy—before I place my palm in his. He threads our fingers together and gives me a gentle tug until I’m walking close to his side, back towards the bar and the way I just came from. He reaches across with his free hand, tucking part of my hair behind my ear as we continue to make our way to the parking lot with motorcycles and a few of the girls I work with. I can’t seem to stop glancing at him.

So big.

Strong.

Gorgeous.

He catches me staring and offers a wide smile. How can such a powerful, intimidating man be so open and gentle with me? His smile says he’s the sweetest guy in the entire world, yet everything about him screams of danger and vengeance.

I miss what’s being said between him and the others; they’re moving around, shifting toward their motorcycles and talking with their backs to me. I catch parts of words, but it’s too fast, so nothing makes sense. This is one of the things I hate about being deaf the most—having to make peace with the fact that I miss a good portion of what is said around me. I have to remind myself if it’s important enough for me to know, they would get my attention and fill me in. At least Powerhouse would; there’s something about him making me not doubt his personal integrity nor the sincerity he directs toward me in each of our interactions.

“Slow night at work, they’re coming with us,” he says so I can read his lips and nods to my coworkers who are climbing on the motorcycles with the other guys.

His big paws go to my hips, and then I’m being lifted, shrieking in surprise in the process, as he picks me up without warning and places me on the huge motorcycle. He’s a massive dude, so it should come as no surprise, I suppose, that he rides a big motorcycle as well. At least it feels larger to me than what an average man would ride. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before, so what do I know?

He climbs on, twisting my way so I can see part of his face again, and signs as he says, “Hold on to me, shortcake. Tight. Never let go.” I think he means to say don’t let go, but I could be wrong.

The vibrations overtake everything as the rumble from the motorcycle physically shakes my body. It makes the inside of my nose and ears itch, and I can’t help but laugh. He revs the bike, the power radiating through my thighs, and I quickly scoot against his back, wrapping my arms around his waist. He’s trim here, especially since the rest of him is wide. His chest and shoulders easily fill a doorway, his height towers over others, and his thighs are like tree trunks, yet his waist and hips are narrow. He truly is built for power, like a fighter.

Our bodies are so close to each other I can’t help but inhale deeply, taking in his scent. He’s all man. His smell is laced with laundry detergent mixed with exhaust. There’s a hint of leather lingering from his cut, and something distinctly Powerhouse, like woodsy pheromones. All of it mixed together seems to be designed to drive me absolutely wild for him. I shouldn’t lose myself so easily over a man I barely know, but here I am. Literally smelling him as I clutch onto his bulk for dear life.

He gives my leg a quick, supportive squeeze as the bike begins to roll forward, but then it’s gone in a flash, making me instantly miss his comforting touch. I hold onto him like a lifeline, and then we’re flying down the road. Suddenly everything doesn’t seem so uncertain. Rather than worrying about anything at all, I feel free for the first time in I don’t know how long. My mind begins to clear of my too many cluttered thoughts as I take in everything around me.

The wind flying through my hair. The setting sun on my face. The Texas heat always making me feel at home.

It’s December, nearly Christmas, so it’s cooled down a lot. However, in central Texas, it’s still beautiful during most days and cold at night. I wonder if Powerhouse will keep me warm once the sun goes down completely? I sure hope so, because I want to feel him everywhere, and this ride on his motorcycle has only made the desire stronger.

Our ride is much shorter than I was anticipating as he pulls off the road, the others following closely behind. He eventually parks in front of a one-story building, with bright lights all around the parking lot. We’re losing daylight fast, but it’s dusk, and at the point where I can still easily make out smoke coming from the back somewhere.

Powerhouse lifts me off his bike, setting me in front of him again. He wears a wide—and dare I say it—proud smile. “Fun?” His brows are raised as he waits with bated breath, reminding me of a little kid eager for approval.

“I loved every minute of it. I felt free. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

His irises sparkle with my response, then he’s yanking me to him. He squeezes me tightly for a beat, peppering a kiss to the top of my head before stepping back to give me my space once more.

“What’s with the smoke?” I gesture to the roof.

“There’s a bonfire out back. The brothers will be drinking, grilling, and relaxing. They’ll be inside too, partying. You ready for this?”

I shrug. Am I ready? I’ve seen his friends before, but it was at work. I was in the zone and paid them no attention aside from what’s required of my job. They’ve all seen me naked, or close to it, and honestly, I’m not too sure what to think about it. Will they expect more from me like my regular customers would if they saw me and Powerhouse having sex? Will they be like all the others, salivating to witness me lose my clothes for a few bucks? “They’ve seen me dance,” I respond, leaving my apprehension on the table so he knows I’m not entirely sure how I feel about being in his space.

He signs without speaking this time, growing more comfortable, I suspect. “You dance like a dream. Makes my heart beat faster. They would be stupid not to notice you too. I will poke their eyes out.”

The first part melts me into a gooey mess for him, but the last part has me barking out a surprised laugh. He’s possessive with me, but in a cute, puppy-dog way, not a psycho jealous-ex way. I like it.

“I love your laugh. Your smile. You are breathtaking.”

I flash him a tender look, my heart pitter-pattering with his last confession. The fact he didn’t say it out loud but kept the words for only him and me, makes them all the more meaningful. He’s nothing like I expected him to be.

When the other dancers first told me Powerhouse was interested in me, I thought it was ridiculous, but then I noticed him always watching me. I tried to stop looking at him in return because he’s beautiful in a larger-than-life, alpha male type of way… but also in a dangerous, walking-red-flag-outlaw sense as well. His motorcycle club and the other guys he rides with are all a part of a one-percenter club. I had no idea what it meant, but with a little research, I’ve quickly learned just how dangerous they all are, so of course, I got a preconceived notion in my head before I ever said one word to him.

I thought he’d be mean. Nasty toward women weaker than him. And demanding. I was scared he’d hurt me just by me being in the same vicinity as him. I was an idiot, and soon after, everyone started talking about him more and more, it seemed. Someone was always mentioning a kind deed he was doing for them, how he’d helped them another time, or that they thought he was the best catch in the place. A real man. One they all want to fuck and tie down if given the chance. Hearing all of that only made me want to stay away more because the last thing I need is people to hate me for taking a man they want off the market.

Last week was a surprise. They’d come to me as a group, pleading their case. Telling me how amazing Powerhouse is and how they all love me. They wanted me to give him a chance because I’m the only one in the group he’d go for, and they don’t want to see a good man like him end up with the wrong woman.

In the end, I agreed to dance. One birthday dance, as a favor to them. And I ended up taking a ten- or twelve-inch dick, thinking I couldn’t go another minute without feeling him inside me. I swear I lost my mind, and here I am once more, ready to lose it all over again for the man in question.