Rainbow by K.L. Savage

My head feels like one of those barrels that get tossed down the side of a cliff. With every bounce the wood cracks a little, then when it reaches the bottom, it explodes.

That’s my skull right now.

And my eyeballs feel like they’ve been dipped in pollen with how swollen they are. The snarling gusts of wind wake me as they rip by, and as I push myself up, a few pings of pain rattle my sides.

I hiss, “Damn.” And try to take it slower.

Finally sitting upright, I keep my hand pressed against my ribs and notice I’m not in my room. Um, I’m not in my bed. I peek under my pants to make sure my panties are still on and blow out a relieved breath when I see them.

“Well, there’s Sleeping Beauty.”

I jerk my head up to see Rainbow standing in the doorway carrying a breakfast tray.

His shirt is off.

I repeat, his shirt is off, and his abs have abs.

Stupid firefighters with their stupid, amazing bodies making me… well, stupid.

Shit. I’m at the Ruthless Kings Clubhouse, and I’m in Rainbow’s room. Another rule on the long list of rules I’ve made that’s being broken right now. I made an entire list just for him.

Do not find yourself alone with Rainbow.

Do not go out to dinner with Rainbow.

Do not kiss him.

Do not dream about him (I broke that one already).

And do not, under any circumstance, stumble into his bedroom and throw your inhibitions to the wind.

And while I did not stumble in this room and tuck myself into this massive, cozy bed, those inhibitions stopped at the damn door when he carried me through it, and right now, they’re laughing at me.

“I brought you some breakfast.”

He comes into the room with a smile. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, the V in my line of sight. It’s a deep V too, carved and defined, and as he sits the tray in my lap, he catches me gawking at him. Rainbow smirks and sits on the edge of the bed. His lower back brushes against the side of my leg. I’m thankful I’m under the comforter.

I stare down at the food and my stomach grumbles when I see gorgeous, fluffy pancakes with a big square of butter in the middle, a few slices of strawberries, bacon, and toast. In the corner sits a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. Black.

“If you need cream or sugar—”

“—No. Black is perfect. Just like my soul,” I try to joke, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s funny because he gives me a stern glare. “Kidding. My soul is only half dark. Depends on the day and the people I’m with.” I bite into a piece of bacon. It’s crispy and nearly burnt, just how I like it.

How did he know?

“You made all of this for me? Why?”

“Why not?” he mirrors in return.

“You don’t know me.”

“I know enough to know I want to know more.” He lifts his hand to my cheek, and I flinch away, then freeze on the spot when a sadness crosses his eyes. I expect him to drop his hand, but he doesn’t. His knuckles brush over my abused cheek. The tender touch is so sweet and gentle—and it’s been so long since I’ve felt anything like it—that I lean into it. “I would never hurt you, Ryan.”

Thunder rolls outside and the coffee ripples in the mug from the vibrations. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before, and now look at me.” I pluck a strawberry off the plate and pop it in my mouth. It’s sweeter than usual, and as the juices roll over my tongue, I taste that he has topped them with sugar.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to show you that I won’t hurt you, right? Trust is earned, not given.” He begins to cut one of my pancakes for me, and I reach over to stop him, but he lifts the silverware out of my reach.

“I can do it,” I pout, feeling taken care of, yet at the same time not as independent. I wasn’t expecting to feel this way, and I wasn’t expecting it to bother me.

It’s always been me. If there’s one person I can count on, it’s been myself. I’ve gotten myself this far, and I haven’t needed anyone. I don’t need anyone now.

I’m perfectly okay with being alone.

And maybe that’s really sad and depressing. Still, when every person has let you down in your life, you learn that being alone is much better than ever depending on someone again.

It’s tragic because I know people can be wonderful. But I always seem to experience whatever dark secrets are beneath that wonderful surface.

Every person has a horrible aspect about them hidden beneath the façade society expects them to keep. Then, when those people have a moment of darkness, a moment of a shadow in the daylight, their evil comes out, hurting whoever’s in their way.

It makes me wonder what lurks underneath Rainbow’s gorgeous eyes.

“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” I tell him, reaching for the fork and knife.

“I know you are. Don’t think I don’t know that for a second, Sassafras. I want to take care of you, though. Let me cut up your pancakes, and then you can eat to silence all that attitude.”

I scoff and cross my arms. “I do not have an attitude.”

“Says the guy who can’t even say that statement without an attitude.”

I pinch my lips together to stop myself from smiling as the fork and knife make that terrible clinking noise against the plate while he cuts again. “Maybe you’re right,” I admit.

“I know I am.”

“Cocky.”

“Just confident,” he corrects me.

I wrap my hands around the warm mug and bring the rim to my lips, inhaling the coffee to help wake me up. It tastes just as good. Silky and bitter down my raw throat. “This coffee is delicious,” I groan and tilt my head back, closing my eyes to enjoy the warmth pooling in my belly.

“Don’t make those noises,” he glowers. “I’ll tell Grudge you like the coffee, but I won’t tell him you moaned about it.”

“And why not? He deserves to know the impact he’s made.” I tilt my chin down and stare into those golden eyes that break every rule of mine.

Who am I kidding? Rainbow is the rule breaker. I bet he bends them to his will.

His finger slides under my chin, still gentle and careful like he’s afraid he’s going to break me. “Because those sounds are mine. Not that you know that yet.” He stabs the pancake and brings the fork to my mouth. “Open.”

I roll my eyes the best I can since the left is swollen. “I can feed myself.”

“Too bad.” He shoves the pancake in my mouth when I open it to protest. The fluffiness and the sugary sweetness of the maple syrup stop me from arguing.

Only because I’m hungry and this breakfast shouldn’t go to waste.

“Now hush and eat. You haven’t eaten a thing since I picked you up yesterday afternoon. After you’re done, you’re going to tell me what happened.” He pokes the piece of pancake harder than necessary.

I’ve been asleep since yesterday? “Wow. I’m sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t mean to put you out like that. I’ll go—”

His palm presses against my chest to stop me from getting up. “You aren’t going anywhere, especially in this weather. I was coming to get you yesterday, or at least going to see if you needed anything for the storm. You’re safer here than at that shitty motel. The place could flood.”

“Well, I need to get ready for work,” I argue. “I have a shift.”

“No one is getting on these roads right now. But, unfortunately, if anything happens, people will need to wait until the worst of it has passed, and at this rate, it will take a while. Hurricane Jeffrey isn’t here yet, but it’s creeping up close.”

“I need to call Captain Warwick and tell him.”

“I did already. You don’t have to worry about that. He knows. No one is at the station right now anyway.”

“How can we save people if we aren’t there when they need saving? We need to go.”

“If we don’t stay alive, no one will be there to save them afterward. We have to take care of ourselves too. Drink your coffee.”

“You’re bossy. I don’t know if I like that.” I do as he says and drink my coffee like a good boy who knows how to follow instructions. I want to not drink it on principle and stubbornness, but it’s too good to waste.

“You love it.” He shoves the last bit of pancake in my mouth. “Now, tell me what happened and who I need to kill for touching you like this.” He does the thing again—the thing where he brushes his rough, scarred knuckles against my cheek. It has my heart fluttering in all the right places that I know will lead me to make the wrong decision.

And breaking all my mother fucking rules. Ugh! Damn him.

“Why do you care?” I ask skeptically, sinking down into the bed until half of my back is supported by the pillow and the headboard. “I mean, I don’t get you. I get it. You’re accepting and so is your club, but this has got to be some sort of trick. A straight guy doesn’t pursue a very openly gay guy so hard with reservations.”

“I had reservations for about ten minutes. What I hated most was letting you leave this clubhouse that first day without asking for your phone number, but I didn’t know how to ask a guy out, so I chickened out.”

“This can’t be real.” I rub my right temple with my fingers, which are still warm from being pressed against the mug.

“Why can’t you just accept it?”

“Because things like this don’t happen. I know how this story is written. You get curious, I give in to you—” the thought of giving in to him has my breathing coming out in unstable stutters “—and you get what you want. You satisfy your urge, but the reality of being with a man day in and day out, holding hands out in public, kissing me, that’s a whole different ballgame. I really love your acceptance, Rainbow, but I can’t believe it. Life doesn’t work like that.”

“I never once asked or expect you to be a secret. Nothing can grow like that.”

“Ugh, stop saying all the right things.”

“Why?”

“Because I have rules to follow and you… just stop it.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not going to stop.” He drags the tray off my lap and sets it on the floor to the side of the bed. “You want to be kissed in public. You want all the things that you shouldn’t have to ask for. You’ve gotten so used to accepting horrible situations because they’ve all been the same. Let me tell you something, I’m not them, and I’m not the story you think you know. I’m better than them. Better than they will ever be.” He snatches the coffee out of my hand and places it on the nightstand just as the wind gusts, bulleting the rain against his bedroom window.

He stands and takes my hand, lifting me off the bed. I hold back a wince, but he sees my pain, and the storms in his eyes match the chaos outside.

“What are you doing?” I follow him out of the bedroom and try to take my hand from his, but his fingers curl tighter.

He makes trying to deny him so much harder when he’s fighting for me. I’ve never had anyone fight for me before. A man could get used to it.

Double damn him.

My feet patter against the smooth concrete floor that seems to be epoxied with a gorgeous marble pattern. Shiny too.

“Hey, you’re blocking the TV, and considering we might not have power soon, that’s a big deal.” A big burly biker with muscles larger than my head complains. I don’t know his name.

“You heard the nice biker. Let’s go,” I whisper, trying to drag him to the bedroom again.

“Shut up, Compass,” Rainbow declares as he gives me a twirl in the middle of the living room with everyone around.

There must be twelve people sitting on bean bag chairs and the sofa. My cheeks heat, and he dips me over his knee, leaving me gaping at him.

“I’m trying to be romantic,” he tells Compass, right before pressing his lips against mine.

I gasp. I can’t breathe.

I don’t kiss back.

I can’t remember how.

His lips are plump and firm all at the same time. Demanding yet patient as he waits for me. His tongue licks the seam of my lips, and my mouth pries open for air, but he takes it as an invitation to slip his tongue along mine.

I melt.

My defense lowers. My walls, the damn weak things crumble, and I give in. Just this once. It won’t hurt, right? I wrap my arms around his neck and turn my head to the left. I try to deepen the kiss by pressing our lips together harder, but he maintains control and keeps our mouths soft. He kisses the way he seduces—by knowing what he wants, showing he wants it, and being gentle and sweet about it.

The guys cheer, and there are a few whistles of celebration. It’s embarrassing, but I like it.

“Grab his ass!” one guy shouts, which makes Rainbow chuckle, bringing the decadent kiss to an end.

“I plan to do that in private first, guys.” Rainbow’s voice is lower, huskier, and as we lock eyes, I can tell he’s just as affected by the kiss as I am.

His pupils are blown, his breaths harsh, and his heart is pumping ferociously against his chest. I know because I can feel it beating hard against my own.

“I’d take you in the middle of a concert and kiss you there, but the weather is ruining that idea right now,” he says, slowly pulling me up to a standing position.

I press a hand at the base of my throat and clear it, trying to get my bearings and thoughts together.

“You’ve kissed him silent, Rainbow,” Jokester cracks, shooting me a wink.

“Good. Maybe then he’ll see that I’m serious. I don’t give a fuck who sees me kissing him. If they have a problem with it, they can take it up with me.”

“Ah, Ryan. You don’t have to worry about that with Rainbow. He’s a very go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Now, get the hell out of the way. Our show is on.” Grudge shoos us out of the way.

“We might get to find out who A is this time.” Jokester throws a handful of popcorn in his mouth, and I turn to the TV when I hear the Pretty Little Liars theme song.

“Oh my god. You guys watch this?” I cover my mouth to try and stop my laughter.

I expected murder documentaries or tapes of them killing people. Then they rewatch it to see what they could have done quicker for next time.

Not… this.

“And we’re leaving,” Rainbow whispers in my ear. “Grudge will get defensive if you make fun of him, and we call him Grudge for a reason.” The words are hard to understand since he’s mumbling, but I piece them together.

“Oh, I love this show. It’s a good pick. I’ve seen all the seasons—” I yelp as Rainbow drags me to the bedroom, away from the guys.

I want to watch the show now though.

He slings me through the door, and the bed catches me. I bounce a few times and push up on my elbows to watch him slowly inch the door shut. His lips are swollen from our kiss, and his muscles are tense while he leans against the trim. He shoves his hands in his pockets. The movement draws my eyes to the outline of his cock, tenting the grey material of his sweatpants. Bless the man who created such things. Right now, I can see everything I need to make my imagination run wild.

His cock is hard.

And massive.

And I’m trying really fucking hard to remember the rules, but I’m a size queen.

I love a monster cock. The more of it, the merrier.

If it fits, I sit.

And I ride.

“You’re going to tell me what happened to you,” he rumbles, using his foot to push off the wall. He prowls toward me and bends down, placing his palms flat on the mattress.

And then he crawls over me.

“I protect what’s mine, Sassafras.” He grips me by my hips and pulls me down aligning our pelvises.

I love being manhandled too.

“Tell me,” he pleads, bringing his lips to mine again.

A kiss is just a kiss.

Until it’s from a man that makes you want to break all the rules.