Dual Desires (Dueling Devils 1)

“Is he okay? I didn’t know what to do, and trying to approach him seemed to make it worse.” She ran a hand through her hair. “What was that?”

>

Demon sighed. “That’s the byproduct of a drug-addicted mother who only cared about her next high.” He shook his head. “The thing about addicts is they’re adaptable, good at hiding their issues as long as they get a regular fix. I should’ve seen it sooner.” He shook his head. Anger welled up in his chest.

“So his nightmares are… memories?” Ardy whispered.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“What do I do when that happens?”

“Call me immediately. We’ve been working on it, and he seems to like you. I hoped maybe it wouldn’t be a problem.” He shook his head. “Guess I jumped the gun.”

“I am so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you.” She reached out and rested a hand on his hand. “My family might not be the richest, but we’ve always had each other, and when one of us hurts, we all do.” He caught a bit of a brogue as she spoke of her family. The quirk made his lips twitch upward. The sincerity in her face, and the concern for Rocket audible in her voice endeared her to him. Shit. He allowed attachments to form he knew he shouldn’t have. She squeezed his hand, and his heart kicked up a notch. Despite her apprehension, she didn’t seem to be frightened by him. He licked his lips.

“It’s my hope having you here will loosen him up around other women. I can see a minor change already.”

She tilted her head. The dark strands of her hair obscured a portion of her face, and he became aware of her attire. Tiny pink shorts with white polka dots and a pink tank top that clung to her full breasts and slender waist. Her hips begged to be kneaded, and the hardened points of her nipples had him wondering if she was cold or aroused. The latter thought lit a fire inside his chest. His pants grew smaller, and he redistributed his weight to relieve the pressure. The air between them became electric. He cleared his throat and removed his hand from beneath hers.

“I’m going to crash on the couch in case he wakes up again. It usually helps him feel secure.”

“Yeah, of course.” She ran a hand through her hair and revealed her oval-shaped face. Her pouty lips were pursed, and he couldn’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped around his cock. Fuck. He took a step back. She’s off limits. Leave it to his cock to pick her to react to. He’d slept with plenty of women since the disastrous end with Natasha, but none that mattered. Ardy Larkin was the type of woman that climbed inside your veins and flowed through your blood. The one you never forgot. He couldn’t afford that and didn’t want it.

“I’m going to crash out. We have a long day tomorrow,” he said, glancing away from her face.

“Yeah, of course. Now that I know Rocket’s okay, I’ll head back to bed.”

She walked around him toward the twin bed, and he couldn’t help but turn and admire her. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head to clear the filthy imagery playing in HD behind his lids. Shuffling to the couch, he removed his vest, draped it over one end, and lay down on his makeshift bed. The sound of sheets wrestling did nothing to help him refocus attention. She brought to life a piece of him he’d thought dead. Biting back a growl, he rolled onto his back and covered his face with his arms. He’d claimed her to help him, but he sensed complications ahead in his future. Whether they would be for the better or worse, he couldn’t say.

Chapter Three

Ardy watched Demon, or D as she’d taken to calling him, from beneath her lashes. He challenged all her preconceptions about bikers and their culture. They came off as brash, rude, uncaring, thugs. In reality, they were hard asses because they needed to be, and you’d be hard pressed to find anyone as loyal. They took care of their inner circle and ignored the rest of the world. Not a bad way to live really.

Unsure of where to set her things, she hovered near the couch, clutching the handle of her roller bag for dear life as he got Harley and Rocket settled. The mid-sized, white ranch house with black trim wasn’t what she’d expected. Warm and inviting with a matching navy blue sofa and love seat set with dark wood end tables, it screamed friendly family. Motorcycle memorabilia lined the walls, and numerous cups, posters, and banners peeked out from numerous surfaces, proudly displaying the Dueling Devils’ legacy.

They’d pulled into town a bit after nine, and the kids were spent.

“Hey, have a seat, Ardy. I’ll be with you in ten minutes tops,” D said over his shoulder as he moved from Harley’s room to Rocket’s.

“Okay.” She placed the bag beside the couch and sank down on the edge. It was like starting fresh all over again. She’d navigated her place in the club. They didn’t curb their behavior, but they were kind and respectful. After working for so many years in a bar, it felt vaguely familiar.

“Hey.” D’s gruff voice garnered her attention, and she glanced up and smiled. “They’re practically snoring now; they were so tired.”

“It’s a pretty long trip for little people,” she said.

“True. You ready for me to show you to your room?”

“Yeah.” She stood, stumbling slightly as pins and needles made their way up her legs in protest.

“Whoa.” He caught her in his arms. Warmth spread through her body, and an instant lady hard-on hardened her nipples.

“Sorry. I was sitting in the car for too long.” His warm breath caressed her face, stirring tendrils of hair. Her stomach muscles tightened, and their gazes locked. His licked his lips, and she followed the path his pink tongue took, mesmerized by the light sheen on his perfectly formed lips. He moaned.

“Don’t look at me like that, Ardy.”

“L—like what?” Her chest tightened. This had never been her area of expertise. Flirting was a foreign language, and with her workload and overprotective family, dating had been few and far between.

“Like you want me to kiss you.”