Piston by Andi Rhodes

Chapter Twenty

_{I’m proud of my club and whoever I’m with needs to be able to, at the very least, cope with that, if not be proud of it too.}

Piston

“I’ll be home tomorrow, Daddy. In time for dinner.”

It took a while for Holland to relax and enjoy the evening, but once she did, it turned out to be a pretty good dinner party. Her father and I found common ground in classic vehicles. Sure, his tastes run toward classic cages and mine to classic bikes, but they’re close enough that the conversation flowed. His rich friends even joined in, which seemed to make Holland relax even more.

Langston kisses his daughter’s cheek and then turns to me. “Have her home by four.”

Some things will never change.

“Daddy,” Hollands protests, her tone full of warning.

“How about I promise to keep her safe?” I counter, hoping that my suggestion will satisfy both of them so Holland and I can get the hell out of here.

While I’ve enjoyed getting to know Holland’s father, being in such close proximity to her with the knowledge that she has no panties on under her lace and silk dress has been torture. I made sure it was equally difficult for her, though. Under the dining room table, my fingers teased her inner thigh off, only stopping when she’d need to get up to get something.

“That’ll have to do,” Langston says, pulling me back into the present.

He thrusts his hand out for me to shake and I take it. I’m more careful now than I was when I first arrived. Langston is a man who goes to great lengths to appear strong, when in fact, his illness has made him quite fragile. As the other guests arrived, he gave in and started using his cane. It’s clear in the strain on his face, the way he’s hunched over slightly, that the night has taken a toll on him.

Without another word to his daughter or me, Langston turns with the aid of his cane and walks out of the foyer, leaving us alone. I glance at Holland and she’s watching him, carefully, a faraway look in her eyes.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” I ask.

I pray she says no. I need to get her back to my place, get her naked and writhing beneath me as I do all the things my fingers promised her I’d do.

Holland shakes her head. “No. Let’s go,” she says as she turns to open the door.

I breathe a sigh of relief and follow her outside. She stops on the bottom step and frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t get on your bike in this dress.”

I eye her up and down and smirk. “Oh, yes, you can,” I assure her. “I’ve been dying to feel you pressed against me with that thing hiked up your thighs.”

“But people will see me!”

“Sweet cheeks, it’s dark out. Besides, you’ll be so close to me that no one will be able to see a damn thing.”

I grab her hand and drag her to my Harley. She stands there staring at it for so long, a look of consternation on her face, as if she has no clue what to do next. I take matters into my own hands and bend down so I’m eye level with her pussy.

I twist my hands in the bottom hem of the dress and slide it up her legs, making a point to go slowly. She tries to put her own hands in the way, to stop my ascent, but fails miserably.

“There are cameras,” she squeals.

“I’m not shy.”

I’ve never been shy. Besides, if anyone cares enough to watch, they may be able to tell what I’m doing but they won’t actually see the parts of her that are now for my eyes only.

With her dress around her waist, I lean forward and blow on the juncture of her thighs. She shivers and tries to step away, but I hold her in place. I inhale her scent and commit it to memory. My cock has been hard for what feels like hours and is begging to be let out to play.

Unable to wait any longer, I slide up her body all while keeping her ass cupped in my hands. When I reach my full height, I lift her easily and she wraps her legs around me.

“Blind spot,” I growl. “Where’s there a blind spot?”

“Back edge of the property, along the tree line.”

I turn to head in that direction. Holland’s lips smash against mine in a demanding kiss. She tastes like the red wine she had with dinner. She tastes like heaven.

Without breaking contact, and with a lot of skill, I navigate the property. The longer I walk, the more I burn for her. Once I hit the tree line, this isn’t going to be sweet and slow. No, my cock can’t handle sweet and slow right now.

“Right there,” Holland moans into my mouth.

I break the kiss for a second so I can see where she’s pointing and then pick up the pace.

So close.

When I reach our destination, I press Holland against a tree and hold her in place with my body. Her movements are frantic. Her hands run through my hair, over my shoulders, down my chest. I manage to unbutton my pants and when they’re open, I free my dick from my boxer briefs.

Her hand replaces mine and my vision blurs.

“This isn’t going to be gentle,” I push out.

“I don’t care.”

She lines my cock up with her pussy and I thrust into her. Holland’s head falls back against the tree and she moans. I brace my hands on either side of her head and fuck her. Her pleasure becomes my pleasure. Her need becomes my need.

“Sweet Jesus.” I clench my teeth against the overwhelming sensation to come. That’s not happening without her. “C’mon Holland,” I coax as I reach between our bodies and press my thumb against her clit. “Come for me.”

The second the words are out of my mouth, I feel the shift. Her walls clamp down, her body quivers, her nails dig into my shoulders. I thrust through her orgasm and before she’s over the wave, my body stiffens. I throb inside of her with an intensity that I wasn’t expecting.

When we’re both sated, Holland’s head falls onto my shoulder. I shift away from the tree with her in my arms and set her on my feet so we can right our clothes.

As her dress falls down her legs, she looks at me. “Piston, that was…” She shakes her head. “I don’t even know.”

Self-doubt creeps in and the feeling is foreign to me. I’ve always been confident in my ability to please women. But right now, with Holland looking at me like that, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m enough for her. Or too much.

“I’m sorry if—”

She reaches up and presses a finger to my lips. “Shh. You misunderstand. There is nothing to apologize for. That was honestly the best sex I’ve ever had.”

I know she thinks she’s saying the right words, but in all honesty, I want more from her. Yes, my ego likes that I’m the best, but my heart wants to be the only, the last.

Maybe you should have thought about that before you took her against a tree… in her father’s yard.

I shake off my sullen thoughts and force a smile.

“Let’s get back to my place and I’ll see if I can top it.”

* * *

The ride to my place doesn’t do much to improve my mood. All evening I was looking forward to the feel of her body pressed against mine, with only the fabric of my pants and boxer briefs between us. It felt as amazing as I knew it would, but I couldn’t let myself enjoy it.

I guide her up the front steps of my porch and quickly unlock my front door so she can get inside, out of the cool night air. I gave her my button down to throw on over her dress for the ride, but if her shivering is any indication, it did little to actually keep her warm.

I lock the door behind me and toss my keys and both of our cell phones on the table. Holland turns around to look at me and tilts her head.

“Are you okay?” she asks, studying me.

“I’m great.” I cross the living room to the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Piston, look at me.”

I stop in my tracks and turn around. She’s still studying me and it’s all I can do not to shout at her to quit.

“What is wrong with you? You’ve been weird ever since…” She waves her hand. “Ever since.”

I shove my hands into my pockets and avert my gaze. I don’t know how to answer her question. I’ve never been in this position before. I’m always the one to spit out some line about the sex being great followed by a quick ‘goodbye’. I’m a wham bam thank you ma’am kinda guy.

What I’m not is the guy who fucks a chick against a tree and then brings her back to my place. Not even one of the rooms in the clubhouse… no, I brought her to my home, the one place I hate bringing a woman.

Holland’s different.

And therein lies the problem. For me, this is different. Holland is special. For her, I’m just great sex.

That’s not what she said.

“Seriously,” she says, pulling me from mental war. Holland closes the distance between us and tips her head up so she can lock eyes with me. “What is going on? Should I leave? Do you not want me here?”

“No!” I snap. Her eyes widen and she takes a step back. I reach for her but drop my hand before I can make contact. “You said I was the best sex you’ve ever had.”

“Because you are.”

I take a deep breath and spit out the first thing that comes to mind. “I want to be more than that.”

Her forehead wrinkles with confusion. “I don’t understand. How can you be better than the best?”

I heave a sigh, frustrated with myself for my lack of experience in the relationship department. Maybe if I’d ever taken a woman seriously in my life, I wouldn’t be bungling things with the one woman who fucking matters.

“Piston, just spit it out,” she pleads. “I don’t know what I did or said wrong, but tell me and I’ll fix it.”

Think, dammit! Think, think, think.

“Do you know what my first thought was when you said I was the best?”

“No, I’m not a mind reader.”

“Right. Okay, so my first thought was I don’t want to be the best for you.” I roll my neck to ease some of the tension. “No, that’s not quite right. I want to be the best, obviously. But my first thought was that I want to be the only. I want to be the last.”

“Oh.”

“See, that’s why I’m upset. We clearly don’t want the same things.” I begin to pace, needing to expend some of my pent-up energy. “I did not want our first time to be against a fucking tree. I had a plan for tonight. I wanted it to be special.” I stop walking and stare at her. “I don’t do special, Holland.” I start pacing again. “I wanted to win you over, win your dad over, and then treat you like the goddamn queen that you are. And instead, I fucked you against a tree and was a great lay.”

Laughter bursts from Holland and I narrow my eyes at her.

“Are you kidding me?!” I shout. “What the hell is so funny?”

Holland covers her mouth with her hand and tries to control herself. It doesn’t work. I glare at her while she loses her shit and hold my rage inside.

“I’m sorry,” she says when she calms down. “Piston, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… you’re not the only one who wants, I don’t know… more. I said you were the best because you are, but I also said it because I didn’t know what else to say. How do you describe what that was? The only thing that makes two people come together like we did against that tree, the only thing that makes it ‘the best’ is feelings. Emotions. Would you rather I told you that I’m falling in love with you? Because most guys don’t want to hear that immediately after.”

“Would it have been the truth?”

Holland sighs. “Yeah. It’s the truth. I’m falling in love with you and that scares the shit out of me. There is still so much we don’t know about each other. There’s a huge part of your life that terrifies me. How I feel makes no sense whatsoever. But there’s something about you, Piston, that won’t let me walk away.”

I would love to say that all my fears melted away during her speech, but they didn’t. They dwindled until they weren’t overriding everything else, but they didn’t disappear.

“You’re right, we don’t know everything about each other. And there are things about my life that I can’t change, that I won’t change. I’m proud of my club and whoever I’m with needs to be able to, at the very least, cope with that, if not be proud of it too.” I reach out to her and this time, I let my hand rest against her cheek. “There are so many questions, so many what-ifs we could hash out until we’re blue in the face. But the one thing that I can promise, the one thing I can make sure there are no doubts about, is that, if we’re together, as a couple, you will always be the most important person in my life.”

Holland’s eyes shine with unshed tears. I press my lips to her forehead and then straighten.

“It’s been a long day. Why don’t you go take a hot shower while I get us something to snack on? We can watch a movie or something in bed and just relax. None of this needs hashed out tonight. As long as we’re on the same page about wanting whatever is happening between us, I’m good.”

Holland lifts her face to mine and smiles. “A shower, snack, movie, and bed sound amazing.”

I chuckle and spin her around. “Bathroom is down the hall, through the bedroom on the left. I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

I watch her walk away, unable to keep my eyes off her ass, and when she disappears through the doorway, I go about finding something to snack on. I hear the pipes creak as she turns the water on and decide snacks can wait.

I hurry to the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes as I go. Holland’s dress is in a heap on the floor, along with my shirt she was wearing.

“There is no way you’ve got snacks ready,” she teases as she massages shampoo into her hair.

“I decided to have you as my snack.” I yank open the glass door to the shower and step in with her. “Turn around. I’ll do that.”

Holland does as I ask, and I freeze.

“What the fuck?”

Holland’s back is covered in deep scratches, no doubt from the tree bark. My stomach drops, guilt infuses my system. How could I be so careless?

“I’m fine, Piston.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because they’re just scratches. They only sting a little and they’ll be gone before you know it.”

“I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean—”

Holland presses her lips to mine and jumps up, forcing me to catch her. My cock begs me to shove her against the wall and take her but for once, I don’t listen to it. I don’t want to hurt her… again.

“Rinse my hair and then take me to bed, Piston,” she moans against my mouth.

I may feel guilty, but I’m no fool. I set Holland on her feet and rinse her hair as fast as I possibly can. I step out first and grab a towel to wrap around her body and then I carry her to bed.

Holland stretches out on the mattress, letting the towel fall open and expose herself to me. I lift my leg to crawl up her body, but before my knee hits the bed, a phone rings.

“Ignore it,” Holland begs and reaches for me.

“That’s not my ringtone.”

“Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

The ringing stops as I brace my hands on either side of her head. I bend down to kiss her and the ringing starts again. Holland slams her head back and groans in frustration.

“You should probably answer it.”

I hop up and jog to the living room to grab her phone for her. ‘Unknown’ flashes across the screen and then the ringing stops again. When I walk back in the room, Holland is standing there with her towel wrapped tightly around her chest.

“Who was it?” she asks as she reaches for the cell.

“Don’t know.”

I hand it to her and she scrolls through what I assume is her recent calls list. “Huh.” She shrugs. “They’ll call again if it’s—”

Her phone jingles and Holland answers it.

“Hello.” I watch as her eyes narrow, wishing it were on speakerphone. “Yes, this is Holland Tibideaux. Who is this?”

Holland rubs her temple as she listens to whoever is talking. The longer she’s silent, the paler she becomes. I try to hear what’s being said but can’t. Holland’s arm falls and she drops the phone.

She lifts her eyes to me as she sways, and I rush to catch her before she collapses.

“What is it?” I ask, panic setting in.

“M-my…” Tears fill her eyes and spill over her lashes. “My dad died.”