Chapter 30—Ruby
Oh my God, this place is nuts. Looney Tunes in the crazy house. They honestly think they can pull me in here and tell me what I can and can’t do? How to act and talk to my dad? When they’ve done nothing but pull bullshit over bullshit on me?
“Let’s go, Nat. We’re leaving.” I say the words loud enough so that by the time I get to the table where I left her, she’ll have gathered her things and will be ready to go.
But I don’t get that far across the clubhouse before someone grabs my arm.
“What the—” I yank, but there’s no give, and I turn to see Kooper holding me tight. “Let go, asshole,” I say between clenched teeth. He’s the last person I want to see or talk to right now.
Instead of answering, he just pulls me back. He’s stronger than me, and the fight I give isn’t enough to do more than just piss him off.
“Let go. Get your hands off me.”
Unless the entire place has lost its hearing, not a single brother is willing to step in and stop me from being manhandled.
And I’m just about done with all this bullshit.
So I swing. I give Kooper a good left hook to the face, and it has his head turning. But his grip doesn’t falter. It only gets tighter till he uses the force to swing me over his shoulder. I’m screaming and hitting him, and not a single goddamn person hears me. Or cares.
“I hate you. I hate you all,” I shout as I’m carried past everyone and into the hallway that leads to a few of the rooms. We pass mine, and I already know where we’re going before we get there.
As soon as my feet are on the ground, I push him away, but really it’s me who bounces back in my stumble. I pretend as if I meant to step back, that walking away from the door, my escape, was what I wanted.
I watch him lock the door and then turn to look at me.
There’s anger in his eyes, but also desire.
And I hate that I feel it too. I should be pissed the fuck off, not turned on.
I can’t help but look at the bed and then scream in my head before looking back.
His damn smirk has me clenching my fists tight.
“Wipe that shit off your face before I show you why my right hook is better than my left.”
“You need to calm down.”
“And you need to go fuck yourself.”
He tilts his head and looks at me. I don’t like it. He always sees more than I want. More than I usually know what I want till he tells me later.
“Is that it?”
“Is what what? Skip the code talk and speak English for once,” I huff as I run my fingers through my hair and push it off my face.
“You need me to fuck you again to get you to calm down?”
A laugh literally bursts from my mouth. “Ah, no. That is not it at all.”
“I think it is.” He steps off the wall and moves closer, like a predator hunting his prey.
I put up one hand and shake my head.
“No, seriously. I don’t want that.” How can he think I want that right now?
I’m pissed off. His buddies just tried to tell me what to do with my dad.
My dad! They know nothing. They can do whatever the hell they want in the club, but they can’t overstep into my life.
Only Dad could do that when he was president, and he isn’t anymore.
I’m no one. No longer part of this group. So they can all get fucked.
“You don’t?”
He’s so close now that I have to put both hands up.
But he just runs into them and keeps walking.
I counter till I hit the wall next to his bathroom.
He leans in and runs his nose along my neck.
I arch only because I don’t want him to touch me.
That’s it. It’s not to give him better access.
Especially not when he flicks his tongue out and runs it along my skin.
And that moan? That wasn’t a moan. It was a war cry.
A cry of anguish and disgust. Not of want or need.
“I think you lie, Peaches.”
“I’m not Peaches.”
He grabs my hips and pulls them flush to his. “You’re right. You’re not just any Peaches. You’re my Peaches.”
His lips cover mine before I can protest further, invading my mouth with his tongue and plundering it like it’s a damn castle.
Destroying my resolve as he continues his onslaught.
I’m like a damn maiden, helpless to resist as he grabs my hands and holds them against his chest, pressing his weight down on me, preventing me from leaving.
Preventing me from moving. To do anything but accept this… this… punishment from him.
And it is a punishment. Something I don’t want.
Something that’s meant to correct my behavior in some way.
To force me to do what he, what the club, wants.
How dare he use his lips against me. His perfect soft lips that I remember sucking on my clit for what felt like hours as I came on him last night.
I shake my head and tear my mouth from his. Enough to breathe but barely enough to think, as his lips just move to my neck.
“I’m mad at you.” I’m telling him but reminding myself as well. “You and your brothers can’t tell me what to do.” Damn, he’s really good with his mouth.
“You’re right.”
I pull back, as does he. I know I am, but never in a million years would I have thought Kooper would ever agree with me. Especially about his club brothers being wrong.
“They can’t tell you what to do.” I’m confused by his words till I see his lips curl up in a cruel smile that’s almost charming. Devilish is more like it. “But I can.”
“You’re being delusional. Yeah, you stuck your dick in me, but that means nothing.
” I lock down my reactions. Turn cold to him.
I’ve learned how to wear this mask, how to pull this sheep’s clothing on when I need to.
To let my frosty bitch side out when things hit too close to home and I don’t want others to know.
The last time I used it was back in high school when someone referred to my mom dying.
Back then, I was told the same as today: “Keep your head down.” “Keep trying.” “Don’t make waves.
” Back then, it was to reserve my energy for Mom.
To save myself from getting locked up for giving someone a massive beatdown so I could be there for her.
To make it easier for her, not having to worry about me.
Now it’s to save Dad. To keep my shit together so he can recover with ease. To have him focus on his healing and shit.
It’s always about someone else. “Ruby, do this for so-and-so.” “Ruby, act this way so the club looks this way.” Ruby. Ruby! Ruby!
I bang my head against the wall. Then do it a few more times. I’m surprised he lets me. But I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes closed as I try to either beat sense into myself or just whack myself hard enough to get out of this pity party.
Finally, I open my eyes. I see his ceiling, and then I roll my head down to meet his eyes.
There’s no pity in them. No fear or horror.
No anger or frustration. Just him looking at me.
It’s a neutral face, but I swear he understands me.
Understands me on so many levels that I should be hiding from it.
“It means nothing,” I say again. I don’t know why, but I do.
His response? A blink. Then he lets go of my hands that are still on his chest, moving his own down till he gets to my jeans and unsnaps the buttons.
His movements aren’t rough, but there’s nothing suave or romantic about the way he jerks my pants open and slides his palm flat against my stomach, down beneath my panties.
How he parts my nether lips, grazes my clit with his nail, and slides two fingers into my sopping wet pussy.
The second he touches my clit, I’m shivering.
Him going straight inside without a buildup has me shaking.
I move my hands to grab each bicep to hold myself up.
I’m going to fall. There’s no other way to describe it.
My legs have turned weak. I’m wobbling on them, and he’s only stuck his fingers in. No movement, just holding them there.
He steps closer, pushing his thighs tight to mine to keep my legs straight.
His other hand grabs my hip, and the indents from last night are like a finger groove for him to find.
I should wince when he touches my bruises, but I just groan at the feel of his hands on me again.
But it’s involuntary, and I close my mouth as soon as I hear it.
But not before he does too.
I glare at him as he starts pumping his thick fingers inside me, sending shivers racing up and down my spine.
I shake my head over and over again. “It means nothing.” It’s a chant.
A plea from me to my own ears. For it to be true.
That I don’t care. That Kooper is just a random guy, and none of this means more than it should.
It can’t. No matter how much I wished for something like this in my deepest, darkest thoughts.
No matter how much I begged for this kind of attention from someone.
It was never Kooper in my mind when I did. It was never him.
Just a dark shadow. A random person who was meant to put me on a pedestal and never let me fall. Someone who could make me feel as if I was enough while putting me first in everything.
But it can’t be Kooper. He has the club. I’ll never be more than the club. Ever.
“Tell yourself.” He leans closer, his breath brushing my ear. He nibbles it just a bit, making me arch into his fingers, which seem to go faster. “Tell yourself anything you need to hear. But it’s all a lie. Everything you say is a lie. Because you’re mine, Peaches. Completely mine.”
I shake my head just a little. I can’t do more than that. I’m so close to coming, it’s ridiculous. I’m both sore and craving the burn he’s bringing me with each movement. And when his fingers flutter inside me and somehow change positions to hit a secret spot I had no idea I had, I whimper.
“You are. The sooner you get it, the sooner we can move past this.”
“When?”
“When what?” I feel his smile against my neck a second before he kisses me. “When did you become mine?”
I nod and grip his arms tighter as I try to climb away from his fingers and yet sink down on them faster. So close. So goddamn close.
He growls in my ear. A whispered growl that makes me even wetter. The nibbles, licks, and kisses aid in his assault on my body.
“Maybe it was the first time your dad gave me you to protect. Or when I fucked up your landlord for fucking you over. Or when you were grinding this hot little pussy on me while claiming to fix my hip. That kiss we had? That was the start of it. But I claimed you the second I stuck my dick in this tight little pussy and it bled all over my cock. The moment you gave yourself to me, just me, and no other. You’re fucking mine now, Peaches.
You had your chance to be with another, and you chose me. And I’m choosing you right back.”
He does a twisting motion, and I’m coming. My mouth opens to let out a scream, and he covers it with his own, taking my breath, pants, whimpers, and release all in one passionate kiss that leaves me seeing spots as he takes too much oxygen from me.
When his mouth releases mine, I embarrassingly give chase to his lips for another kiss. One he doesn’t deny me. It’s slower, like how his fingers glide in and out of me. Petting me like a good little kitten for not biting.
Which makes me frown. I ain’t no damn animal. And I don’t need a pet. No matter how good it feels.
I must be hormonal as shit, because I’m back to being pissed. The orgasm seemed to only give me a small, very short reprieve. Maybe I really do need a good dicking to get in a better mood.
“Fight me all you want, Peaches. But I was your first, and I’m going to be your last,” he murmurs as he pulls away.
“Not happening. For one, I’ve got plans that don’t involve you in the future. And two, you weren’t my first. Ever heard of a period?”
He pulls his hand out of my pants, looks at it, then shows me. “Well, look at that. Clean fingers.” He then sucks them fully into his mouth, and my hoo-ha flutters a bit at the sight. “Tastes like peaches and cream. Just like last night. Not a hint of copper.”
Fuck, I’m turned on again. So much that you’d think he’d been teasing me for an hour and I didn’t just come on his fingers.
“You really need to get over yourself.” I wanted it to be haughty, but it just comes out breathless, because, well, I am.
I swallow hard, my mouth dry from watching him lick his fingers clean.
“Learn some biology too. I thought my period was over. You must have just gotten a little on yourself when you stuck your dick so far up.”
He grins, laughing at me. “Did you just try to school me in biology and compliment my dick size all in one go?”
Probably. I can’t think right now. I’m just trying to get out of here without jumping him a second time. Nat says I didn’t rape him. And his actions right now show he’s a willing partner. But if he doesn’t back up in the next five seconds, I’m liable to just force myself on him again.
“It wasn’t a compliment,” I grit out, but it’s a contradiction. I want to deny it. To deny how he was. But I felt it. Might not have gotten up close and personal, but I swear a part of me got tattooed by his cock last night.