Unbeautifully Read online

  She answered after three rings. “Are you still on lockdown?”

  I sighed. “Yes.”

  “Ew.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, what’s up?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “A sexual favor?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”

  “Well, what then?” she asked, sounding bored.

  “After lockdown, I want to spend a few days at Ripper’s. Will you cover for me?”

  “Actually,” she said, snapping her gum. “If it’s next week, it works out perfectly. It’s the annual fam’ trip to the Poconos.”

  I grinned. That was perfect. Anabeth would be gone for an entire week, which meant for that entire week I could be alone with Ripper. Alone.

  Envisioning all the things we could do while alone, without worry of being caught, my stomach flip-flopped.

  “Thank you,” I said, unable to keep excitement from bleeding into my voice.

  Her gum snapped. “I want something in return.”

  I made a face. “What?”

  “I want to know how big Ripper is.”

  “Anabeth,” I said, exasperated. “Why do you even care?”

  “Because,” she said pointedly. “If you ever get sick of big, scarred, and sexy, I want to know if he’s worth my time.”

  Just thinking about Ripper with another woman, let alone one of my closest friends, made me sick to my stomach. But as much as I wanted to tell her to go to hell, I knew she wouldn’t let up.

  “He’s big,” I admitted. “But I don’t have much to compare him to.”

  “I want inches and circumference,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

  “Oh my god, Anabeth, seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Fine.” I sighed. “He’s, um, like as long as…” I trailed off, looking around my room, trying to find something to compare Ripper’s penis to. “The DVR remote. Or, almost as long,” I finished, picking the remote up off my bed and studying it.

  “Mmmm,” Anabeth murmured. “Nice. What about girth? When you hold it, do your fingers overlap?”

  “Oh. My. God.” I groaned. “I hate you. No, they don’t overlap, they don’t even touch.”

  “Perfect,” she purred. “Does he eat you out?”

  “I’m hanging up now!”

  “What? It’s a legitimate question and a deal breaker for me. If a guy isn’t going to go down on—”

  I hung up.

  Two seconds later my phone vibrated, signaling a new text message.

  What about stamina? Is he a one, two pump?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I was in heaven.

  Two days ago my father had come back from New York, officially ending lockdown. The club had gone into secret meeting mode and I’d gone home with Eva and Ivy. The next morning my father and Cage, along with half the club, left for North Dakota.

  And now…I was in heaven.

  And my heaven consisted of the bare bones of a home, if you could even call Ripper’s tiny, one-bedroom log cabin in the middle of nowhere, a home. He didn’t even have real dishware, only plastic plates and cups and, yes, plastic sporks. There were no curtains or carpets, no pictures or paintings on the walls, nothing was personal except a small picture of his parents he had on his bedside table. They were conservative-looking people, well dressed with an air of importance about them. His mother was a strikingly beautiful woman and his father, an older, clean-cut version of Ripper minus the long hair and scars. They looked nothing like I’d thought the parents of my gruff and overbearing biker would have looked.

  My biker.

  My biker, whose hands—beautifully large and covered in deliciously rough, hardened skin—were groping me as I lay naked on my back. Sneaking past the slats of the window blinds, warm rays of sunlight were warming my skin wherever they landed. Heaven.

  “You hungry?” Ripper whispered, licking at the side of my neck.

  Was I hungry? Oh my god, who cared about food? I was sore everywhere, I was excited and nervous and insanely happy and scared out of my mind and…

  “Baby,” he said, grinning, “you gotta be hungry. I know I’m hungry. We haven’t left this fuckin’ bed in twenty-four motherfuckin’ hours. Let’s get you in the shower, and then you can make us somethin’ to eat.”

  “Mmm,” I murmured, hooking my arms around his neck. “Whatever you say.”

  “Whatever I say?” He laughed as he dragged me out of bed and into the hallway. “Careful, beautiful girl, I might take you up on that.”

  Like I’d care. Whatever he wanted me to do, whatever he wanted to do to me, I already knew the answer would be a thousand times yes. I was at the point of no return, falling hard for a man I’d had more sex with than conversations. But for some reason, it didn’t seem strange to me.

  Every time he moved inside of me, looking up into his gaze, it felt as if we had already spoken a million words at a million different times.

  We existed in a world where words weren’t needed. Everything I needed to know, everything he was feeling, I could already see on his face and feel through his touch.

  And what I saw, what I felt, was…

  He loved me.

  I don’t know how I knew, because I’d never been loved by a man who wasn’t my father or my brother, loving me only out of familial obligation. Never, ever like this, nothing in my life had ever felt like this, but somehow I knew…I just knew.

  In the bathroom, inside the large tub shower, my eyes closed, I reveled in his touches, his kisses, as the hot water poured down over us, washing away hours upon hours of sweat and sex that I was determined to put right back on us.

  “You’re killin’ me.” He groaned as I cupped him and began stroking him back to life.

  “Ripper,” I begged, feeling like I would burst if I didn’t have this man inside of me. Right. Now.

  “Please…now…please…”

  I couldn’t get enough.

  I would never get enough.

  Pushing me up against the wall, he gripped my side with one hand; his other slid down my leg and grabbed a hold of the back of my knee. Lifting my leg, he situated it high around his waist and then he was there, right where I needed him between my thighs, hard and ready and pushing inside of me.

  Moaning, gripping his biceps, I let my body go soft and limp, letting Ripper take complete control.

  “Baby.” He groaned, sliding inside of me. “Ah, god, Danny…I gotta see your face, baby, please…”

  He stopped, paused to brush several thick clumps of wet hair out of my eyes, and with heavy lids and water-blurred vision, I blinked up at him.

  “That’s it,” he whispered, pulling out. My hips jerked up, not wanting to lose him. “You look right at me, beautiful girl. I need to see you, I gotta see that way you fuckin’ look at me.”

  He thrust back inside and my eyes closed as all the air left my body.

  “Eyes,” he demanded, pulling out and slamming back inside. “Look at me, Danielle.”

  I kept my gaze locked with his. Even when it was nearly impossible to do so. Even when my womb was burning, quivering, and clenching with my release, even when he took me harder and faster, even when my legs were shaking, my body jelly, my mind nothing but mush, still I kept my eyes on him.

  “Ripper,” I whispered, clinging to his neck as he carried me from the bathroom into his bedroom. “I think I love you.”

  Laying me gently down on his bed, he climbed over top of me and covered me with his body.

  “Yeah, baby,” he whispered, sliding back inside of me. “Ain’t no other explanation for what a girl like you is doin’ in bed with a man like me.”

  • • •

  She was trying to kill him. She was trying to fuck him to death.

  Or maybe he was already dead and this was heaven, or hell, depending on how you looked at it.

  “More,” Danny whimpered, writhing on top of him.

  Jesus, he couldn’t. He wasn’t even h
ard. They’d done nothing but fuck since they’d gotten to his place.

  And now his cock was dead.

  “Shh,” he whispered against her mouth, kissing her lips, kissing the corner of her mouth and both her cheeks as he moved her off him and pulled her up against him, her back to his front.

  “Please,” she whispered, trying to twist around. “I can’t…I need…”

  Ripper bit down on her neck and sucked her soft skin into his mouth. “I’m broken, baby,” he said, licking where he’d bitten.

  Moaning, she arched her neck to give him better access, and he kissed his way across her neck and down her shoulder.

  Flipping around in his arms, Danny looked up at him, grinning. Her hair was matted with sweat, her face flushed, her blue eyes shining, and he just stared. She was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen, ever touched, felt, kissed. She was the most perfect thing he’d ever known.

  Pulling her over top of him, he buried his face in her neck and squeezed her tight. Fuck, he hadn’t felt like this in…

  Fuck him, he’d never felt like this.

  She shrieked as he flipped her off him and onto her back.

  “Baby,” he said, smiling, climbing over top of her, straddling her hips. “I’m dead.”

  Threading her hands through his hair, she pulled his face down to hers. “You’re not,” she whispered.

  “Get some sleep,” he said softly, rolling off her and pulling the covers up to her chin.

  “Just once more,” she whispered, kicking the covers off her and reaching for him. “Please…”

  “Fuck, Danny, no,” he muttered, even as his spent body responded to her touch.

  Unwittingly he found himself rolling her over, sliding down her body and spreading her legs wide open. Looking his fill, his head dipped forward and he gave her a long, slow lick, wetting her further. Then shoving himself back up, he positioned himself, gripped her thighs and, exhausted and sore, surged inside her.

  “Hurts,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering.

  Yeah, it did. He was so damn sore and yet…

  “Harder,” she whispered.

  He complied; she both whimpered and moaned.

  “Faster,” she demanded.

  Harder…faster…harder…

  Sweat beaded on his forehead and his muscles burned, his breath raw. But he didn’t give a fuck. The only thing he gave a fuck about was beneath him, gripping his sheets, breathing in small ragged hiccups and staring up at him with a beautiful pair of wide, unfocused blue eyes.

  “I wanna rip you the fuck open,” he said, breathing harder as his thrusts became brutal. “I want all of me inside all of you, not just my fuckin’ cock, baby, but all of me. All of you.”

  “Yes,” she whimpered. “I want all of you.”

  Christ. Yeah, she did. Danny wanted him bad, so bad he could fucking feel it, feel her need all around him, cloaking him from his living hell and comforting him in her soft and silken, pure fucking sweetness.

  He couldn’t lose her.

  The wayward thought horrified him.

  Losing her would end him.

  A man like him, a girl like her… Ripper knew there would be no going back for him. Not after her. He’d hit the fucking jackpot and no bitch that came in her wake would ever measure up.

  Determined to keep her, to make her irrevocably his, he fucked her with everything he had left inside of him.

  But he couldn’t get deep enough, he couldn’t fuck her fast enough, hard enough…nothing he did seemed to be enough.

  He was still trying when the sun set again; no longer capable of an erection, he was still trying. Trying to leave a piece of himself behind, one that couldn’t be erased, one that would stay with her always, one that would make it so Danny was forever his. Only his.

  Jesus…he loved her.

  She’d said it already. More than a few times, most of which he’d doubted she’d even been aware of, faulting delirium from exhaustion and tear-inducing orgasms. But then there had been the other times where she’d been looking right at him, her eyes clear, her voice strong.

  He hadn’t known what to do. It wasn’t the first time a bitch had told him she loved him, but it was the first time he’d wanted to say it back.

  Only…

  It had all happened so quickly and was still so confusing.

  They barely knew each other.

  Only…

  It didn’t feel that way. He suddenly couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t been staring into those beautiful icy blue eyes and not feeling completely at peace. Or maybe he just didn’t want to remember anything before her because nothing before her was worth remembering.

  Gripping her face, Ripper forced her to look at him.

  “I love you,” he rasped then froze, waiting for the nauseating regret to wash over him.

  When it didn’t, when he only continued to look down at her, feeling nothing but a peaceful exhaustion, the kind only garnered from an entire day spent inside of a beautiful woman, his woman, he knew it was true. Erik Jacobs had finally fallen for a woman. And he’d fallen motherfucking fast and hard.

  The smile he received in return caused his heart to split into a million different pieces. Then, as the organ began to knit itself back together, feeling fuller and stronger than before…

  He got it.

  Just like that, he finally got it.

  He knew now why Cox was such a bumbling moron when it came to Kami. He understood why Jase refused to let Dorothy go even though he knew their fucked-up relationship was slowly killing her. He got why Deuce had never been able to stay away from Eva…despite the age difference…despite Preacher’s trigger-happy hands, despite her being married to a crazy motherfucker.

  Why they never could forget them.

  Because once you had a taste of a good woman, suddenly nothing else mattered but her.

  Nothing.

  Yeah, he got it now. There wasn’t anything sweeter. Not even riding.

  It was that very moment, a mere pittance in the span of his lifetime, that after he’d lost Danny, would become his happiest memory, the one Ripper would hold closest to his heart and cherish above all others. The one he’d lay awake at night playing on repeat.

  Wishing…

  Wishing…

  Wishing…

  …she still loved him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  On the couch, lying on top of Ripper’s back, wearing a holey Metallica T-shirt five sizes too big for me, I smiled at the television as Johnny offered Baby his hand and pulled her out of her seat.

  Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

  “I love old movies,” I said with a sigh. “Dirty Dancing is my favorite.”

  Ripper’s big body shook with laughter. “Old movies,” he repeated. “You do realize this shit came out when I was a kid?”

  Pressing my lips together, I buried my face between his shoulder blades, directly over the words hell’s horsemen tattooed on his back. He had his fair share of ink, although not nearly as much as Cox who, aside from his face, probably didn’t have any skin left that wasn’t tattooed.

  From his left wrist to his elbow Ripper had a beautiful montage of his parents’ faces, their birth and death dates swirling around them with a heavily detailed headstone as the backdrop.

  A bare-breasted pinup girl took up the space from his right shoulder to his elbow, that had since been slashed through several times and filled in with scar tissue. On his knuckles, in gothic lettering, when he put his clenched fists side by side, spelled out R-I-P-P-E-R-4-1.

  Lastly, on his right wrist he had a sparsely beaded rosary wrapped several times, the cross falling in the middle of his palm.

  When I’d finished counting the beads, seventeen total, I’d looked up at him.

  “Are you religious?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Naw, baby, I ain’t. It’s just a reminder because sometimes I need remindin’, yeah?”

  “Reminding of what?”

  He lit up a cigare
tte and took several long drags before answering. “Of what kinda man I am.”

  At the time, I hadn’t understood what he’d meant, but because of the sudden change in him, from silly to serious, I’d dropped it and moved on.

  “You look pretty good for an old man,” I whispered against his warm skin, trying hard not to laugh.

  “Brat,” he whispered back and I heard the smile in his voice.

  It was our fourth day together in Ripper’s home, yet it was the first time since arriving that we’d left the bedroom for something other than a bathroom trip or a food break.

  “You wanna watch an old movie, we can put in The Wild Bunch. Great fuckin’ movie.”

  I wrinkled up my nose. “The what?”

  “Pike?” he asked. “Old Sykes?”

  “Who?”

  “Jesus, Danny, it’s only the best western ever made.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Westerns are lame.”

  “Yeah, and nobody puts Baby in a corner isn’t.”

  “It isn’t!” I protested, smacking the back of his head. “It’s romantic. Best quote ever.”

  Ripper snorted.

  “Yeah, it’s real fuckin’ deep. Try this on for a change,” he said, clearing his throat. “ ‘The land had changed. They hadn’t. The earth had cooled. They couldn’t.’ ”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Means shit was changin’ all around them but they were stayin’ the same. Men who had a certain way of livin’, their own way of gettin’ shit done, wasn’t gonna fly anymore ’cause they were livin’ in a world full of pussies makin’ rules.”

  “Kinda like the club,” I mused, thinking about my father and Mick, about Bucket and Freebird and their rants about society and living by their own rules, the code of the road and brotherhood.

  And speaking of my father…

  Before I could speak, Ripper was reaching behind him and hooking his arm around my neck. In one swift move, he’d reversed our positions and had me pinned underneath him.

  “Smart girl,” he said softly, cupping my chin, tilting my head back as he moved in for a kiss.

  “Wait,” I said, turning my head away from him.

  “No,” he growled, biting down on my exposed neck.