Chapter 12
TWELVE
“I should have just stayed home…behind my screens, where no one can see me….”
What the hell am I thinking?
Good question. Chubby, scarred, dull, unremarkable—but with a great personality. She knew what she looked like, what people saw when they looked at her, and she was a fool to think she’d survive the day unscathed by humiliation.
You’ve spent over a year keeping your chicken shit self hidden behind a black screen, and now you’re just going to walk in there and hope he doesn’t recoil in disgust at the first sight of you in real life?
He was going to take one look at her fat body, her pale skin, her limp hair, and unremarkable face, and he was going to tell her, “you should have stayed away.” Seriously, what was she thinking? Again, she knew what she looked like, and, yeah, he’d caught a glimpse of her for a few moments during their last conversation, but knowing he was about to see all of her without the barrier of polarized LEDs, circuit board, and molded plastic, made her nerves drop into her stomach. Her computer monitors had been her view of the wide world for years, but it wasn’t until she’d “met” Redtube that they had become the gateway to fantasies, to love, to a future.
But she couldn’t hide behind them anymore, not if she wanted to have closure.
It isn’t closure you want, idiot, it’s Redtube!
Her mouth dried up because the sweat pouring into her armpits and the small of her back was dehydrating her. God, this was going to be embarrassing.
But it had to be done.
Staring at the front wall of the Unchained MC clubhouse, Val wiped the sweat from her forehead and cringed—reconsidering leaving her hair down just because she had a new aversion to hair ties. God, what the hell was she doing here? She was obviously out of her mind, bearding the lion in his den…well, in this case, confronting the biker thirst trap in his house of hedonism.
You will not giggle at that…this is not the time!
Hell, she was a mess, and had been since she’d realized the asshole had hacked her grocery delivery system to get her address. Actually, she’d been a mess since she’d realized the asshole was still banging other women, even after his promise to “wait.” Right now, she was just plain insane.
Insanity: a noun, the condition of being insane; having a deranged mind.
Yup. That defined her to a fucking T, because a sane person wouldn’t just roll up to an MC clubhouse, determined to confront a known biker, retired US Marine, and tattooed badass, armed with nothing but her rage, her frustration, and a small can of pepper spray in her bra.
Pepper spray? A lady could never be too careful…though, she should have brought her neighbor’s Belgian Malinois, Dieter, instead—he was a former police dog.
When Val had first gotten to the compound, she saw the fence, the gate, and the small guard shack, and had to fight the urge to turn her rebuilt all black ’81 VW Beetle around and motor out of there. Unfortunately, the guy in the shack, the patch on his kutte reading “Prospect - Tony,” saw her and waved her over. It was too late then, so she’d told him her name, and that she was there to see Redtube, and the guy, with speculation and wariness in his gaze, called someone, whose name was also Tony, and told him to tell Red he had a visitor. Why the dude didn’t just call Red, she had no idea.
Maybe he’s busy with another “hair tie.”
She mentally slapped herself, and forced a smile so this Tony didn’t think she was a crazy person.
There must have been something in her expression that told him she wasn’t there to steal the silver, because he let her through the gate, and told her to park in the front.
Now parked, she was second and third guessing her decision to not just drive away.
But you came for a reason—the man broke your heart, then had the audacity to hack your delivery service to find your address, then sit across the street watching you like a fucking creeper.
Yeah, she’d caught him. When she’d gone to the door to get her groceries from the delivery lady, Rosie, she noticed the conspicuous truck right away. It was the only vehicle on the street she hadn’t recognized, and when she’d done a quick PA DMV search, the title to the truck came back to one of Red’s MC brothers, Horde. Knowing Redtube was there, and curious as hell about why he was there, she’d waited for Red to come to her, tense as hell, expecting a knock on the door. But he hadn’t knocked. After several hours of that bullshit, she’d just gone to sleep.
She’d woken up that morning pissed as fuck, and ready to tear out his throat…after she had it out with him. Her subconscious voice had been right; she’d never begin to heal until she spoke with him, face-to-face, about what happened, no matter how terrified she was about him seeing her. She needed to hear his explanation from his mouth, in his words, and then she’d cut him out of her life for good.
Right, like that’ll happen.
Well, that voice wasn’t always right.
Gritting her teeth, Val dredged up every last ounce of her feminine rage, and dragged herself from the car. She patted her boobs to make sure her pepper spray was secure, then she made her way to the door. Her hand stalled on the press plate, the door being original to the building, which had once been an old construction supplies warehouse store on six acres.
For a second, on top of the other shit she was anxious about, she wondered if she was wearing the right thing; she’d worn her usual self-employment uniform of t-shirt, jeans, and decades old Chucks. But Red was used to women dressed to the nines, wearing zeros, with four-inch heels—he’d take one look at her and thank his lucky stars he’d dodged a bullet named Valentina .
Grimacing at her own thoughts, she reminded herself he’d already seen her at her worst—which was how she always looked, so it wasn’t like her appearance would be a surprise.
Smacking her hand against the door, she pushed inside, and came to an abrupt halt just over the threshold, when her gaze collided with the man she’d fallen head over heels for. The man she’d once only seen on the screen, bare chested, thrusting into his own hand to appease his fans. The man she’d finally saw in person for the first time, in a crowd, as he proudly took home a woman who was not her.
In all his iterations—social media pic, Reel, Insta story, chat room video, and in passing at Cool Hands, none of it had prepared her for him; his size—massive, his presence—overwhelming and intense, his scent—leather, cedar, and male. He smelled like a biker thirst trap should smell: intoxicating.
Shaking her head, she tried, really, but she couldn’t peel her eyes away from him.
And his eyes, gray-hazel, intense, sharp and hungry on her, nearly stole her senses. He was looking at her like he’d never seen anything like her before. Like he thought she was beautiful.
This…this isn’t real…he must be day drinking.
There was no way he was looking at her like he was attracted to her. Not to her . Never her in her t-shirt and jeans, with her flabby arms, thick thighs, fat ass, floppy tits, and roly-poly belly. Not him, sex god of the interwebs who could make women come with his voice alone.
But…those eyes…they couldn’t lie. Heat…hunger…scorching lust….
And he was looking at her .
Don’t trust it. He’s a slut. He’s skilled at making women think they’re the only one in the world.
A sickening, sour, bitter acid burned in her gut, making her swallow down the bile.
Confront him, let him give his explanation, then wipe him from your life like shit from your asshole.
Determination met desperation and grief, swirling in her chest. Yes, she needed to do this so she could heal, move on, forget him and the heartbreak.
“Redtube,” she blurted, her heart squeezing at what she needed to say next. “We need to talk.” Whoa , she was shocked as shit that her voice didn’t quaver, because her throat was thick with anxiety.
The man in front over her flinched at those four most dreaded words, but rather than tense up and become defensive, Val watched as understanding and hope filled his gray-hazel gaze. The man had been hoping to speak with her, and she’d walked right into his lair.
Biting her bottom lip, she waited for his response.
Red, his gaze dipping down to her mouth, his pupils dilating, didn’t say anything for long…aching…moments. Gasping at the intensity of the heat in those eyes, she watched as his gaze snapped back up to hers. A smirk curled his lips, making her heart trip. Still silent, he dipped his head and flung his thumb over his shoulder.
“My office is that way; we’ll talk there.” Lord, his voice was even sexier when it was directed at her without the benefit of sound filters and distance. She fought off the shudder his velvet sex voice caused, and offered him a chin dip in return.
God, this was going to be harder than she thought.
That’s what he said — shut the fuck up, slutty inner voice! Obviously, when faced with real life situations involving scarily intense, tattooed bikers, she turned into a thirteen-year-old boy.
She’d find her outer voice in a minute, once she wasn’t gagging to throw herself at the wall of sex appeal standing before her, his eyes darkening, his massive body seeming to harden right before her eyes. Holy shit, he really was the walking, talking embodiment of carnal sin.
Val could swear there were other people in the room, staring at her, probably wondering who the chubby weirdo was, but she couldn’t drag her gaze away from Red as he seemed to peel his own gaze away from her so he could turn around and start walking.
It took serious strength to keep her eyes from dropping to his spectacular bubble butt as he led her from the larger room, down a short hallway, and through a doorway on the left. The second she stepped across the threshold, she was smacked in the face by the scent of him—goddamn, she could marinade herself in that scent. She’d call it “master bast ing.”
Her eyes snapped from where they were planted on Red’s ass—so she wasn’t as strong as she’d like to be, and who could blame her, the man’s ass was fucking bitable—to his workspace set up.
Stopped just inside the door, Red let her go ahead of him, and she didn’t hesitate. Val let out a low whistle, impressed by the number of screens, the wall mounts, the massive L-shaped desk, and the noticeable lack of visible wires. It was her wet dream of “white hat” set ups, though she knew Red’s “hat” was more gray than white. Unable to stop herself, she immediately stepped closer to the desk, her gaze lingering on the main monitor on the desk, then flicking to the four screens suspended above it in sort of cluster.
Immediately, she recognized that he was running AI facial recognition software, for what purpose, she had no idea— and now is not the time to wonder! It isn’t why you’re here, tech hussy!
Dragging her gaze from the monitors, the weight of Red’s gaze on her back finally registered. He was standing behind her, watching her, silent, waiting. He was probably shocked by the size of her ass, wondering how it fit in standard-sized office chairs.
Stop! When he looked at you….
Yeah, she wasn’t going to believe that.
She’d come to him…and it was time to pull up her big girl panties and say what she came to say, do what she came to do.
Sucking in a deep breath, she released it slowly, and prayed for strength and a tongue that worked. Spinning on her heel, she crossed her arms over her chest, and finally looked at him.
Her breath left her lungs, her lady parts sang, and her warning bells started to clang.
He was standing, thick, muscular arms spread, hands pressing against the wall on each side of the doorway, his massive frame barring any escape. His head was tipped forward, his dark hair falling over his forehead and directly in front of his left eye. Hoooly fuck. His gaze was pinned to her, intense, dark, accessing, like he was calculating her next move and plotting several steps ahead—chess without a chessboard, like a motherfucking master.
Lord, what the hell have I gotten myself into?
As if drawn from the darkest most wicked depths of hell, his deep, sinful voice vibrated the air. “So, what do you think? Does my Daisy approve?”
My Daisy…. Her big girl panties were immediately drenched. Her brain, scrambled with a side of WTF, took a second to translate his words because the way he said her nickname like that did all sorts of unholy things to her body.
“Uh, what do I think?” she blubbered. He smirked, fully aware of what his presence was doing to her. The gorgeous, sexy asshole!
Way to go, there, sounding all smart and shit. Next you’re going to drop your pants and yell “pudding!”
Internally rolling her eyes, but appreciating the Supernatural reference, she drew herself up, forced her thoughts into an organized queue, and responded.
“I think…,” she began, meeting his gaze—with effort, “your set up is pretty clean.” Turning to glance over her shoulder, she noticed there was no tower in sight. Turning back, she remarked, “Off-site?” Most people kept their computer towers right next to or on top of their desks. However, most people weren’t running software meant for use only by people with the highest security clearance. And, guessing from what she saw on his monitors, whatever Red was doing wasn’t strictly legal, which meant, if he was smart, his rig was stored off-site, where it couldn’t be confiscated during a raid of the compound. Also, if the hacked were able to trace the origin of the hack, they couldn’t follow it back to the actual location of the hacker.
It's how she worked. Work smarter, safer.
He dropped his arms to his hips and grinned. “Off-shore.”
She nodded. “Same.”
His grin grew. “Far Horizon.”
“Arcadia,” she offered, speaking the name of the retired tanker ship off the coast of Oregon that housed the servers running her shit. Off-shore, anchored in international waters, they were untouchable by US government agents. It wasn’t a typical white hat set up, but she wasn’t the typical white hat.
Red tipped his chin in acknowledgement. “Is that a nod to Resident Evil ?”
Val chuckled, dropping her arms and shrugging. “I didn’t name the ship, but I did pick it because of my unnatural fascination with all things Mila Jovovich.”
His eyes lit up, humor brightening his tanned features. “I knew that about you, and I always figured you had a girl crush.”
“Nah, I just appreciate that she can kick ass and still look like she just stepped off a runway in Milan.” She was smiling, the anxiety she’d carried into the compound wasn’t as heavy, and all it took was some pointless bantering—and a look at his sweet computer set up.
Suddenly, the tension in the room turned to stone, and the smile and humor dropped from his face. Slowly, he moved away from the doorway, and just as slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he closed the door. Though it made no sound, it felt like he’d slammed it shut.
“You came to me, my Daisy….” God, how the hell was she supposed to remain standing against a voice that was meant to bring her to her knees?
For the first time, they were alone. In real life. Person to person. Face to face. Only feet from each other.
“Y-yes,” she squeaked, and immediately hated how vulnerable she sounded.
Shaking his head, he grunted. “Guess I didn’t need the restraints.”
Frowning, she asked, “What?”
Ignoring her question, his eyes darkened to pitch black. “You came to me…in real life…no screens…no bullshit separating us.”
She couldn’t do anything but nod.
OMIGERD!
Silence reigned in the room, or it would if her pounding heart wasn’t hammering in her ears.
Say something! Take control! Show him that you mean business, that you ? —
But he beat her to it.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked, taking a single step forward.
Swallowing, she answered, “You know why I’m here.” Raspy, thick, her voice didn’t sound like hers. She sounded like Jessica Rabbit…after a two pack a day habit for forty years.
As she watched, Red flattened one of his big hands against his chest, then slid it, slowly, agonizingly sensuously down his massive body, over jacked abs concealed behind his t-shirt, and down to the button on his jeans. She watched because she couldn’t tear her eyes away even if the place were on fire. When his hand began unbuttoning his jeans, she gasped, her gaze flying back up to meet his once more.
He arched a single eyebrow, his top lip curling. “You came to see the tattoo.” He took another step closer.
In the background, from outside in the hallway, she heard a woman ask, “What tattoo?” But she couldn’t be assed to acknowledge whoever the hell that was.
Apparently not bothered by the eavesdropper, Red took another step closer. “You don’t want to see the tattoo?” Red inquired, his voice dropping on the last word.
Huh? Shit—for a minute she’d forgotten about the fucking tattoo. That thing had caused so much trolling and fuckery online, she couldn’t appreciate the fact that her name was inked on his body. Also—what the fuck?
Thankfully, that mental interlude seemed to weaken his sexual pull just enough for her to rub her goddamn brain cells together!
Huffing impatiently, she snarled, “No, that’s not why I’m here, but we will talk about that later, because what the hell ?”
He chuckled, the sound like the rumble of thunder.
She shuddered, and her nipples hardened at the tingles that shot through her body.
Thankfully, he didn’t look down to notice her nips at attention.
He took another step closer. “If not the tattoo, then why are you here? I didn’t think that you’d come to me after you shut me out.”
And she wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been an ass and stalked her.
Yes, you would have, you lovesick dumbass—and you like that he tracked you down like the morally gray hero in a dark romance novel.
Shaking off whatever the fuck was making her body all warm and shit, she grit her teeth, met his heated gaze, and snapped, “Because you hacked the grocery delivery site, followed Rosie, then sat outside my house like a weirdo—what the hell did you expect me to do?”
Red’s eyes grew wide, and since he was mid-step, he went still, foot still elevated. It dropped with a thud .
“You saw that, huh?” he asked, a sinful little smirk slowly growing on his face.
He chuckled.
“I have trip wires set up all over the place, especially on secure sites that hold my private information.”
The asshole didn’t even bother sounding sorry about it, though. “I’m not surprised; I always knew you were smarter than me.”
Her cheeks heated at his praise—it wasn’t every day a brilliant sex god complimented her.
He took another step closer, and she tried not to notice just how close he really was. The room wasn't that big, and she hadn’t been that far from the door. Now, Red was within reach… she was within his reach.
And what will you do it he reaches out and ? —
She waved him off, rolling her eyes. “That’s a given, but that’s not why I came, that was just the catalyst.”
In a blink, the humor and heat dropped from his features, and in his eyes she could see the wariness, the fear…the guilt. In another blink, there was determination in his darkening eyes, and that’s what made the next words fall from her lips unbidden.
“Why did you do it? Why did you lie to me?” she demanded, everything within her catching fire. “Was it all pity? Did you even really mean anything you said? Is it because you got bored with me?”
Redtube took another step forward. Standing over her, peering down into her face, his body heat pouring into her, her racing heartbeat thrumming through her, her breath trapped.
Finally, he spoke, his voice grating, thick with something that scorched her blood, “My Daisy….”
Then his large, rough hands were cupping her jaw, holding her face, as his mouth slammed down onto hers.