Page 77 of Hard Rider


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“Get your stuff. Now,” I hissed at her, my muscles tense. Fuck, I could feel every one of them, even the ones I’d never known I had. That was how worked up she had me. How angry. How frustrated. Mostly with myself.

But damn if I didn’t want to shove my dick straight into her smart mouth.

I didn’t, though. Couldn’t. My stepsister didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve some prick like me. I took a deep breath, sobered by her pain, and said, “You’re coming home.”

“Fuck you!” Tanya shot back, heading for the door. Before she could turn the handle, I blocked her way.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Get out of my way, Gunner.”

“Say it.”

“Fine! I’m going home with you, okay? Shit.” She glared at me through her bangs. It was so fucking hot. “Can I get my stuff?”

I moved out of the way, my heart still racing and my erection still throbbing in my jeans. I watched after her as she walked out of the room, giving myself some time to get my body back under control.

I couldn’t even begin to believe what had just happened, much less my reaction to it. The way body craved my own stepsister almost made me hate myself. I felt like a pervert, some creep who sits outside girl’s doors and jacks off while they get out of the shower.

I rubbed my hand over my face in frustration and made my way toward the front door of the club and out toward the parking lot to wait for Tanya. It was safer for her—and for me—when there was some distance between us.

Chapter 8

Tanya

Nothing was turning out the way I’d planned. A few days ago, my biggest concern was paying my rent and making sure some dick weasel didn’t get too friendly with me in the club. Now I was worried about a million other, shittier things.

Like the burn on my hand. The fact that my apartment had burned down, taking my whole life with it. And my stepbrother showing back up to not only save me from the flames, but from myself.

That last part I wanted to dismiss as utter bullshit. Nobody had held a gun to my head and told me to strip. But nobody had thought to stop me, either. Nobody had ever offered me any alternatives.

What, waitressing? Like, for real waitressing? A couple bucks an hour, plus tips, would’ve seen me on the street. So yeah, nobody made me shake my tits, but they damn sure made it unprofitable for me to do anything else.

I got out of the car the second Gunner pulled into the drive. He hadn’t even parked when my feet touched the ground. I slung my pumps over my shoulder and headed for the door, knowing damn well I didn’t have a key, but wanting to put as much distance between me and my stepbrother as possible.

“Tanya, wait,” he said from behind me. I turned, glaring at him as he shut his door. He jogged a couple feet toward me, hit the steps, and then sighed.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he told me. “Things back there just got...”

He trailed off, but I knew exactly what he meant. I’d taken things a little too far with that lap dance. I still wasn’t sure what had come over me. Maybe it was the look on his face, reminding me of how he’d stared when I’d walked out of his shower. Or maybe it was his massive erection jutting between my legs, letting me know I was doing a damn good job.

It was so naughty. So taboo. It was exactly what a good girl shouldn’t be doing, and somehow, that made me feel sexy. Powerful. Maybe for the first time in years…

Besides, Gunner wasn’t exactly hard to look at. With that square cut jaw, those bulging muscles, that piercing gaze, I could see why women might flock to him.

Oh, God! What was I saying? He was my stepbrother. The prick I’d grown up with. The one who’d walked the hell out of me and left me alone with his abusive, piece of shit dad. I didn’t owe him anything. And I shouldn’t have been attracted to him. Maybe breathing in all that smoke had done more damage than I’d thought.

“Whatever, Gun,” I said. “Are you going to open the door for me, or what?”

Gunner’s expression darkened. He shook his head just a little. “Yeah.” He jammed his key in the lock.

“You shouldn’t have come for me,” I added, bumping the door open with my hip and strutting in. “You didn’t come back for me all those years ago, so why the fuck would you start now?”

“_’Cause you’re making some real shitty decisions,” he answered, which I hadn’t been expecting. His bluntness made my blood boil all the more. “I can’t just sit back and pretend like I’m okay with that, Tanya.”

“But you can sit back and throw money at me while I grind on your lap?”

Gunner slammed the door. “For fuck’s sakes, that’s not what I came here for.”

I snorted. “Who are you ashamed of, Gunner? Me, or yourself?”

He ran a hand through his hair and stalked over to the fridge, pulling a beer out. Typical. Just like his dad. “Sorry for givin’ a shit,” he muttered, twisting off the cap. “Thought I’d save my little stepsister from grinding on a pole, and whatever the hell else you do in that champagne room.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t do anything in the champagne room, Gunner. Nothing I don’t do out on the stage, anyway.”

“Come the fuck on,” he sneered, taking a long pull from his beer. “I’m not stupid, Tanya. I know what goes on in those places. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” I answered coolly. I even threw in a little shrug. “I’ve never fucked a customer. Never even sucked a cock. Any cock. I’m a virgin.”

Not two seconds after the v-word had left my mouth, Gunner was laughing. In fact, he was laughing so hard he choked on his beer and almost spit it across the floor.

“A virgin. A virgin stripper.” He laughed again. “Jesus, you really do think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

I should’ve been angry. And I guess that part of me was. But mostly, I was tired. Tired of the way men used me. Abused me. Silenced me. Tired of the way they never believed me, even when I was telling the truth. Looking at the guy I’d once called my big brother shaking his head in disb

elief put another little crack in my heart. I turned away and sat down on the couch.

“Whatever, Gunner. Believe what you want. But it’s true.”

It took him a while to stop laughing. Maybe when he saw I wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore, he got the picture. I flipped on the TV and slumped against the armrest, and a moment later, he came to sit beside me.

“Shit, Tanya. I’m sorry.”

“You sure do a lot of apologizing,” I said. “Not a lot of actually fixing anything, though.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he began, “but what you did back in the Domino... what you did to me...” He licked his lips and took another swig of beer. “It’s just hard to believe you don’t have any, uh, experience. That’s all.”

I shrugged. “It’s not hard to learn the moves. Even the damn YMCA has pole dancing lessons now.”

Gunner shook his head. “It was more than that. The way you moved. The way your body fit against mine. How you knew just where to press, stroke, and touch...”

I tried not to think on it too much, but with every word Gunner spoke, another image of the two of us in the champagne room popped into my head. I remembered the way he’d grabbed me, sinking those strong fingers into my flesh. It had given me goosebumps then, and it was doing the same thing to me now.

More than that, it was making me wet. My neck and cheeks flushed. Shit. I was always bad at hiding my feelings. Especially around Gunner. It was like he could see through me. Like he could knock down all the walls I’d put up to protect myself, revealing the soft, squishy me underneath.

It left me feeling weak and vulnerable, and I’d spent too much of my life feeling that way already. I wanted it to stop. Now.

“I can’t do this,” I told him. “I can’t be here with you. I can’t live in your house. I gave up on you years ago, Gunner. Gave up on our family. On... us.” I stared down at the bandage on my hand, like I could see through it to the burnt flesh beneath. I was as raw and smarting as that wound. Being around Gunner brought back so much of the heartache I’d felt when he’d first walked out on me. It made me feel like the same little girl I was back then. It made me feel small, broken, and alone.

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