Read Online Rage (A Thunder Gypsies MC Outlaw Biker Romance) by Christa Wick - Free Book Online

the bag from me, tossing it behind him so that it landed next to the bike. Sitting next to me, he opened one of the tuna tins and handed it to me.
    “Stop staring at the bag and eat,” he ordered.
    I dipped a cracker into the meat and brought it to my numb lips.
    “Baby, I could dye your hair vomit green and cut it an inch short and you would still be so beautiful it makes my body hurt.” Placing a finger against my hand, he gently guided the cracker into my mouth. “So stop worrying about how you’re going to look and get some fuel in you.”
    I crushed the cracker inside my mouth then swallowed, shaking my head as I did so. “It’s not about vanity.”
    His mouth quirked to one side, but he didn’t ask me why I didn’t want my hair cut or dyed. He probably knew my answer might change his mind.
    Tears sprang to my eyes and I pushed the rest of my food at him.
    Grumbling something about a crying woman, Callan pulled me into his arms. “Okay, tell me what it’s about.”
    “No, it’s stupid.” I tried to wiggle off his lap but he wouldn’t let me.
    “If it’s making you cry, I want to know.” He gathered my hair around one side of my neck. Kissing one cheek, he tenderly wiped a tear from the other side of my face.
    I melted into his arms and wrapped my own around his shoulders as I angled my face upwards in search of his mouth. I couldn’t believe he actually wanted to know why I was crying instead of trying to bully me into stopping. Not that Callan was a jerk, just that I couldn’t recall ever seeing a man react to a woman’s tears with anything other than derision or violence.
    My father had backhanded my mother the times he caught her crying, the old cliché falling from his lips every time.
    I’ll give you something to cry about, bitch.
    That wasn’t Callan. In between kisses, he coaxed me into telling him. “Come on, baby girl. Why does the idea make you sad?”
    “Mama would brush my hair, sometimes for hours.” I buried my face against his neck to hide from his watchful eyes. “It was the only way she would touch me, and just my hair. If she wanted me to move, she would use the brush to guide me.”
    It sounded awful, like maybe my own mother thought I was contaminated, but I couldn’t think of it that way. “She would tell me stories when she brushed my hair -- about a fairy princess trapped in the mortal world and that the only way the princess could visit her people was with magic potions that put her to sleep.”
    Callan smoothed his hand up and down my back, the soft, repetitive gesture hypnotically calming me. “She was an alcoholic, your mom?”
    I nodded, my tears lubricating the skin of his neck. “She said every time the princess visited fairyland, she tried to find a way to go back forever and bring her half-human daughter with her. But the other fairies said humans are beasts and wouldn’t allow it. So the princess had to stay in the human world because she couldn’t leave her daughter behind.”
    “But then the magic potions killed her, didn’t they?” Callan asked gently.
    I sobbed into his jacket. Yes. The potions had killed the princess and they had done it slowly. In the end, she left her daughter alone in the mortal world anyway.
    Callan opened up a small space between us. Cupping my chin, he made me look at him. Slowly, he kissed the tears that kept falling and then my mouth, both of our lips salty. Taking a second, he stripped his jacket off and placed it on the ground, then guided me onto my back.
    He kept kissing me, everything soft and slow. I moved against him, the direction and thrust of my hips becoming more obvious as my arousal grew. One hand wrapped in my hair, Callan pushed his other hand beneath the band of my jeans and panties. He didn’t stop kissing me as his fingers parted my labia and began to stroke my clit.
    With the gap between my jeans and my flesh almost nonexistent, he had to keep his strokes short. I whimpered, wanting both of us naked and