Chapter Nine
R aven
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 at the sensation.
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 close enough 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, the material is crisp, and the patches are bright.
There’s also something distinctly Powerhouse, reminding me of the woods along with his natural pheromones.
All of it mixed together seems to distinctly 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 multiple times 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.
I scream at first, but it quickly turns into giggles as the wind tickles my eyelashes, making a sense of freedom wash over me.
So this is why they ride. I get it now.
Everything drifting through my head doesn’t seem uncertain any longer.
Rather than worry about anything at all, I feel utterly free, riding with the wind for the first time in I don’t know how long.
My mind begins to become clearer and clearer of my too many cluttered thoughts as I take in the surroundings around me.
The cool air whipping through my hair, making the strands fly everywhere. The lingering warmth from the setting sun’s rays on my face before the chill of night takes its place. The Texas humidity always wraps me up in its gentle hug, making me feel at home.
It’s December, one of the mildest months, so it’s cooled down a lot.
However, in central Texas, it’s still beautiful during most days, and then it’s 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 quick trip 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.
The air has the crisp notes of winter, along with the embers from a bonfire, and somewhere mixed in is the scent of roasting food.
My stomach grumbles, twisting a bit as it reminds me, I didn’t eat anything for dinner yet.
I don’t know if I can eat in front of Powerhouse right now; he has my nerves going haywire at the moment.
He did say he wants me to chill with him, but I still don’t know what that means exactly.
I didn’t make it a habit of going to any guy’s houses growing up, nor since I’ve been an adult.
I didn’t have many friends, and those I considered were in ballet with me.
Our days were full of dancing, practicing until we were too tired to consider doing anything outside of our training.
Powerhouse lifts me off his motorcycle, 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 my approval.
He doesn’t know it, but he absolutely has it.
Not only on the ride, but in the way he attempts to respect and care for me in the only ways he knows how.
He’s not like other men I’ve met; he’s big and overwhelming, but also sweet, like a puppy.
“I loved every minute of it. I felt free. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
His irises sparkle with my response, happiness shining brightly in his expression, 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 had my mind 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 quietly respond, leaving my apprehension on the table so he knows firsthand I’m not entirely sure how I feel about being in his space.
He gets my attention with his hand, then signs without speaking this time. He’s 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, Golden Retriever kind of way, not a psycho, jealous-ex way.
I like it.
He continues, “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. I can’t help but fall a little more into him emotionally.
I like him, probably too much. I know the responsible thing to do would be to guard my heart, take my time, but he somehow knocks down any apprehension I may come across.
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 formed a preconceived notion in my head before I ever said one word to him.
I should’ve known not to judge someone at first glance, but even I’m guilty of being human.
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 to the point he was all I thought about.
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 their comments 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 for themselves.
He wasn’t my opportunity; he’d be my downfall in every sense of my life if I allowed him to.
It was a huge shock for me a few weeks ago when the other strippers came as a group, pleading their case.
Surprising me by 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, the only one he could ever truly fall in love with.
I tried to argue, claiming we’re too different, but they were persistent enough to get me to cave.
Saying they don’t want to see a good man like him end up with the wrong woman.
Eventually, I agreed to dance. One birthday dance, as a favor to them. And I ended up lost, consumed by the thoughtful biker’s attentions. It was all encompassing, and soon after, I was caught up so thoroughly, he’s the only thing that’s been on my mind since.
The last time I danced for him, I was borderline obsessed.
I needed to feel his touch like I needed air to breathe.
When his large, calloused palms rubbed over me, I knew it wouldn’t be enough, and the moment I was able to, I was happily taking his ten- or twelve-inch dick.
The entire time we were touching and grinding in the club where anyone could watch, I was thinking I couldn’t go another minute without feeling him inside me, so I sank down and took all of him.
I swear I lost my mind, and here I am once more, ready to lose it all over again for the man in question.