Home > Viper's Demands (Ruthless Sinners MC #8)(3)

Viper's Demands (Ruthless Sinners MC #8)(3)
Author: L. Wilder

“I need to see you.”

I didn’t ask questions. I never did. Whenever Rebecca called and said she needed me, I did my best to be there. “I’m on my way.”

I ended the call without saying anything more and shoved the phone in my pocket. I knew why she needed me. It must’ve been a rough day—more than likely lost one of her patients. Rebecca was a hospice nurse who worked with several surrounding nursing homes and hospitals.

I’d met her back when ol’ McClanahan, a retired MC president, was on his way out. He was a good man, known for running his club with an iron fist, but loyal and loved by the brotherhood. He was in his late eighties and not doing well.

When Hawk had informed us that he was having a rough go of it, we’d decided to stop by the nursing home to pay our respects. That’s when Rebecca, his hospice nurse, had caught my eye.

And apparently, I’d caught hers as well.

I’d seen her before—at the nursing home and even once at the clubhouse when Delilah brought her around, but it wasn’t until McClanahan got really sick that I’d grown interested in her. While visiting him at the home, she would glance in my direction, but always slipped off before I had a chance to talk to her.

However, I was patient.

I bided my time, and after McClanahan had passed, I made sure she was invited on the run the boys and I had put together for him. There wasn’t much to it, just a quick ride up to the Tail of the Dragon on the Carolina border and back, so I hoped she’d tag along.

She didn’t.

I wasn’t ready to give up on my pretty little nurse, so I’d driven over to the nursing home to see if I might convince her to have a drink or dinner with me. When I’d walked into McClanahan’s now empty room, I found Rebecca standing in the center of it holding a small cardboard box, and she looked like she’d been crying.

I stepped closer to her and asked, “Hey, you okay?”

“Oh, umm ... Yes.” She quickly wiped the tears from her cheek. “I’m fine. I’ve just been cleaning up here a bit and got a little dust in my eye.”

“I get the feeling it’s more than that.”

“Maybe.” She looked down at McClanahan’s things and sighed. “It’s just so sad. His whole life fits in this one little box.”

“It would take a lot more than that box to hold all that was Mr. McClanahan.”

“You’re right. That old man was so full of life, always telling stories about the things he’d done, the places he’d gone, and all the women in his life.” A light blush crept across her face as she giggled. “It seemed there were quite a few, and now, it’s hard to believe he’s just gone.”

“Sounds like he had a good run of it.”

“Yes, he did.” She glanced up me and smiled. “From what I hear, you’re having a pretty good run of it, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” She’d asked about me. I couldn’t help but think that was a good sign, so I stepped a little closer and asked, “And what makes you say that?”

“I might’ve asked Mr. McClanahan about you.”

“And why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. Just curious, I guess.” She walked over to the dresser, placed the box down, opened it, then took out one of his old pictures. She turned it for me to see. “Did you know he was the president of the Ravens for twenty-two years?”

“I did.”

“So, you knew him pretty well?”

“Well enough to know that he wouldn’t want you in here pining over him like this.”

“No, I guess he wouldn’t, but it’s hard. I genuinely liked him.”

“Well, because I’m a friend of McClanahan’s and all, I’d be willing to help take your mind off of things.”

“Oh?” She cocked her eyebrow. “And how would you do that?”

I don’t know what the hell came over me, but I couldn’t seem to stop the perverted thoughts coursing through my mind. I gave her one of my playful smirks and said, “I can be pretty creative.”

“Oh, I bet you can be all kinds of creative.” Damn, she was beautiful. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted a woman the way I did her, and if that spark in her eye was any indication, she wanted me just as much. “I’m sure your creativity could make me forget all my woes.”

“It absolutely could. I have a special talent in that department.”

“Well ...” I was expecting her to turn me down and send me packing, but instead, she said, “I have my dinner break coming up. We could sneak off for a bit.”

“Yeah, we could definitely do that.”

Without saying anything more, Rebecca followed me out to my bike, and like she’d done it a hundred times before, she slipped on the spare helmet and hopped on behind me. After she gave me the address to her place, we were on our way. I’d picked up many women in my time, more than I could count, but there was something about this girl that was different from the rest.

She didn’t need anything from me—just a simple distraction, which I was more than happy to give. And I liked that. I liked it a lot.

When we arrived at Rebecca’s house, neither spoke as we got off my bike and removed our helmets. Anticipation crackled as we climbed up the steps to the front porch. A relieved smile crossed her face when we finally walked into the house.

She’d barely closed the door, and we were on each other like two horny fucking teenagers. Her hands dove into my hair as she pulled me towards her, crushing her mouth against mine in a hungry kiss, and it wasn’t long before she started inching her scrubs down her hips. I grappled a condom from my wallet, unfastened my jeans, and slid it on. In a blink, I had her pinned against the wall with her legs wrapped around me.

I drove deep inside Rebecca with one firm thrust, then fucked the ever-loving hell out of her. I’d say from her little whimpers and sated moans, along with the tiny beads of sweat trickling from her brow, that I did some of my best work that afternoon.

I was expecting an invite to dinner or maybe a possibility for another round, but that didn’t happen.

Not even close.

I was still buried deep inside her when she patted me on the shoulder and said, “Okay, stud. It’s time for you to go.”

“Whoa.” I quickly withdrew and tossed the condom in the trash next to the door. “Something wrong?”

“No, everything’s fine. This was nice, really nice”—Rebecca nonchalantly pulled her scrubs back up over her hips and tied them at the waist--“but I’ve gotta get back and finish my shift.”

I nodded, zipped up my jeans and adjusted my cut, then started for the door. I was about to head out but stopped when I remembered she’d ridden there with me. “Need a ride back to work?”

“No, thanks. I’ll catch a cab.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

I opened the door, and as soon as I stepped outside, I was hit with an unusual urge to turn around and reach for Rebecca. I was tempted to pull her into my arms and kiss her, long and hard.

I resisted—something I didn’t typically do.

But that feeling left me out of sorts, and I found myself not liking the idea of never seeing her again. I typically didn’t give women my number, but I knew Rebecca well enough and didn’t see the harm. So, I told her to call me if she ever needed to “relieve some stress,” though I honestly didn’t expect to hear from her.

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