JETT (A Brikken Motorcycle Club Saga)

by Debra Kayn

  He wanted to make damn sure she stayed with him.

  Since they're ride on Family Day, she'd stopped pulling away when he touched her. She made eye contact when he talked. She even started conversations.

  But, it wasn't the same.

  Her confident spirit hadn't fully returned. She still held herself back from him. It was there, hovering between them, and he wanted everything she could give him.

  He'd never seen someone fight as hard as her, struggle with every inch of strength, and hold herself from enjoying the pleasure he could give her. Except, himself.

  The responsibilities laid upon his shoulders as the next president of Brikken kept him apart from the rest of the members. The members needed to respect him now and seek him for guidance so when the time came to change the patch from Chief to him, Brikken would be strong.

  He'd learned in prison that when he walked out a free man, there was no going back to his old life. Everything from that point forward was for his position in Brikken.

  He sat his Harley, waited until Sydney warmed his back, and headed home.

  Home.

  He'd never planned to go back to the house of his childhood and yet after moving Sydney into the clubhouse he'd thought more of having her to himself without all the interruptions. Chief, wanting to unload the house, signed the deed over to him with an exchange of a ten spot.

  Ten minutes after leaving the clubhouse, he pulled into the driveway and made a U-turn, backing the tire up to the door of the garage. From here, he could relax. At the clubhouse, he always had to be on guard. The men viewed Brikken property as a safe place to discuss business. A lot of the time, Sydney was within earshot of conversations that verged on sensitive to outsiders.

  She never heard enough information for her to piece together club business, but here at the house, he could relax. It was only the two of them.

  Keeping her away from Brikken was a way for him to protect her better. It'd been almost ten years since the last raid when he'd spent an eighteen-month sentence behind bars. The less Sydney knew, the better.

  Sydney slid off the bike and removed her helmet. He walked with her up to the door and let her in. The place was no more welcoming than it had been the last time he'd brought her over. He'd need to round up some cast-off furniture from the members after he returned from the run.

  Any decorating or turning it into a home could wait until Sydney fully accepted living with him.

  "Um, Jett?"

  He turned to her.

  "Johanna mentioned back at the clubhouse earlier that she put a casserole in the fridge. Should I put it in the oven?" Sydney hooked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

  "Yeah, go ahead." He watched her walk by him.

  There was nothing for her to do here. She'd grow bored when his schedule returned to normal, and he had to spend hours away from her.

  She stood in front of the range. He waited for her to turn around and when she continued standing there, he said, "Do you plan on watching it bake?"

  "No." She glanced over her shoulder. "I don't know how to turn on the oven. There's no screen with buttons."

  He walked into the kitchen. "You turn this knob to the right temperature."

  "Four hundred," she said.

  He turned the dial. "Then, you turn this one to the right one click. The info wore off the console twenty years ago, so you just have to go off remembering which position turns the oven on. It's old."

  "I'll remember. Do you think twenty minutes will be long enough to heat it up?"

  "Yeah."

  She turned and mumbled, "This is weird. Being here."

  "It's quieter." He leaned against the counter. "Just us."

  He had yet to figure out if that mattered to her. His involvement with women never exceeded the fact that their sexual pleasure came first. He'd never experienced the uncontrollable need to consume everything about a woman before. Until Sydney came into his life.

  He wanted to be involved in her mornings, her evenings, and know every second that she was accessible and his. And, he wanted her sexually.

  He had no idea when young girls turned into women who thought with their pussy. He'd spent his teenage years fucking women older than him because they were there and offered.

  He hooked his hands under his armpits. "Besides cons what did you do by yourself?"

  "Slept." She shrugged. "Nothing else to do during the daytime hours and since I worked at night..."

  She was too young to go to the bars for pleasure. Couldn't drink, smoke, get into the clubs. Far as he knew, once she'd run away from her foster family and got lost in the system, she never went to school. Not wanting anyone to turn her in, she probably dropped all contact with the kids she knew in her past.

  "Do you ever want to go back?" He studied her for any sign that he'd pegged her wrong. "To school? To two parents?"

  "No." Her eyes widened. "You're not going to turn me in, are you?"

  "I don't want to but if that's what you want to—"

  "I don't." Her shoulders sagged. "I'd just run away again, and I want to stay with you." She looked up at him. "Here, not at the clubhouse."

  He reached out, wound his finger around the hair falling on her shoulder, and tugged her closer until she had to put her hands on his stomach to keep from being pressed against him, which put her against him anyway.

  "Have you ever had a boyfriend, Syd?" He rubbed her hair between his fingers, thinking it was the softest hair he'd ever touched.

  "What?" She snorted. "Nobody does boyfriends anymore."

  "You don't date?"

  She gawked at him. "Are you serious?"

  "Dead serious."

  "People don't date unless they're old and you know, religious and stuff." She tried to push against him, and he refused to let her go.

  "What do kids do?"

  She shrugged. "Hang out."

  "Do you hang out?"

  She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

  "Because I want to know how much experience you have." He lifted her face when she ducked her chin. "Hm?"

  "I don't want to talk about my past with you or anyone," she whispered.

  At her age, her past was yesterday.

  He lowered his head and kissed her upturned nose. Her answer told him everything he needed to know. If she had any experience, he'd find out. And, when he found out, he'd own that and make damn sure she understood what they had together wasn't the juvenile shit she'd experienced.

  "Give me your lips, Syd."

  She tilted her head. He pressed his mouth against hers and nudged her bottom lip down and kissed her the right way.

  Sydney held still. He slid his hands down to her neck and placed his thumb on the soft spot above her collarbone, feeling her pulse. Her gasp. Her gulp.

  She had yet to submit to her own pleasure which told him more about her lack of experience. He was fine leading the way, teaching her, showing her. Again and again.

  He pulled back. The light blue of her eyes showed her pupil constricting, widening, and settling down to normal size from her arousal. She stared up at him, wrapping his heart in warmth and constricting his balls. All he had to do was touch her, and she'd be putty in his hands.

  Her pulse against his thumb sped up. He rubbed his lips together in anticipation of more.

  Not wanting to wait and have her second guess what he was doing to her, he leaned closer, until his mouth was just an inch apart from hers.

  "Soften and open," he said.

  The air from her mouth parting brushed over his lips, igniting him. He captured her mouth again and any thought to show her what to do next washed away.

  She tentatively moved, sucking soft and sweet. He groaned in pain holding back and let her explore at her own pace.

  Sydney moved closer and clutched two handfuls of his shirt, pulling him even tighter against her. He had to restrain himself from scooping her up and taking her to the bedroom.

  He introduced his tongue into the kiss. She retreate
d and came back, playing with the tip as if she hadn't quite figured out that she could dip into his mouth and take them both deeper.

  The shallow spot at the base of her neck under his thumb deepened as she stretched to her toes and tilted her head back more, opening her mouth more, taking more.

  His hand tightened on her neck, and his cock pulsed painfully confined in his jeans.

  A loud buzz filled the kitchen. He swallowed Sydney's startled scream before she jerked away, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and looking at him lost.

  He inhaled deeply, reached around her, and shut off the timer on the stovetop. Sydney stood, staring at the floor. He opened a few drawers looking for a towel or potholder and came up empty.

  "Syd?" He opened the oven door. "Can you go in the bedroom and get one of my shirts so I can pull the casserole out?"

  He watched her quick escape. He wouldn't let her go far, because as soon as dinner was over, he planned on letting her kiss him again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "You're good with kids."

  The deep voice startled Sydney. She jerked her gaze to the side and found Chief standing next to her. Whipping her gaze forward again, she tried to ignore his looming presence.

  "Sunday, Brikken is riding out. I'd like you to stay at the house with Johanna, help her with the kids," said Chief.

  She picked at her thumbnail, shaking inside. Her plan to see Kylie depended on her staying at Jett's house when he went on a run. She only had two more days to wait, and Jett was beginning to trust her. He even allowed her to walk around his house by herself and down the driveway. She'd made sure to come back after a short while to prove he could trust her.

  "Jett will bring you over before it's time to rally." Chief paused. "You'll be paid."

  "I can't," she said.

  "What?"

  "I can't," she said louder. "I need to stay at Jett's."

  "He's already told Johanna you would stay over and help."

  Her spine weakened as she lost the independence she'd gained since moving in with Jett. "I wanted to stay and wait for Jett to come home," she said, half lying.

  Her latest plan was to go see Kylie as soon as Jett rode away, spend a couple of hours with her during her normal visit time, and then come back to the house and wait for Jett. She wasn't running away.

  She wanted to live with Jett. Since they'd moved to the house, he made her feel special as if it was her home, too. She liked his kisses and sleeping in the same bed. They were growing close, and she considered him a part of her life—except for when it came to Kylie.

  Before being with Jett, she believed the only way she'd be happy was if she lived alone and controlled her own life.

  Her opinion had changed. Jett...well, he controlled her life, and she liked how he took care of her. The only thing wrong with their relationship was her secret about Kylie.

  "I really can't," she said, wishing she sounded more confident with Chief.

  "Look at me, Sydney," said Chief, exactly like Jett talked to her.

  Reluctantly, she turned toward Jett's father.

  He lowered his brows and tilted his head. "I'm not asking. You'll be there Sunday and spend the night at the house."

  She swallowed her need to lash out and cry. All hope to see Kylie died inside of her.

  Chief walked away to join the men in the middle of the room. She slipped into the hallway and leaned against the wall, stifling the sobs beating her body.

  She couldn't live without Kylie, and yet she wanted to stay with Jett. Whatever choice she made, she'd end up hurting one of them.

  But, she'd made a promise to Kylie. They only had each other to depend on. She wouldn't let her sister down.

  "JETT!"

  He stopped halfway to the door of the clubhouse and turned. Johanna walked out from between the two buildings, holding her hand up for him to wait.

  "Hey." She arrived out of breath, lugging the baby in her arms. "Do you have a few minutes to talk to me?"

  "Yeah." He motioned her closer to the front of the building where the floodlight lit up the area. "What's up?"

  She jiggled Stassi, swaying side to side. "Why do you want Sydney to stay with me while you guys are on the run?"

  "Is there a problem with her staying?"

  "No, she's more than welcome. Actually, she's a huge help to me." Johanna shrugged. "I'm just curious if you don't trust her or something. She's old enough to stay by herself, and despite Chief wanting to make my life easier, I'm fine by myself for twenty-four hours."

  "I want her staying with you. She'll run if left alone. That way I can have the members who are staying here guard the gate and keep an eye out for her."

  Sydney had done a complete turnaround compared to six weeks ago. Obedient, helpful, and while they hadn't had sex, Sydney looked for any opportunity to touch him.

  "Jett..." Johanna frowned. "The girl is half in love with you. Do you not see that?"

  "No."

  Johanna's gaze softened. "She probably doesn't even know, but you stepped up and are taking care of her, and the life she was living was a far cry from perfect. At her age, that's huge. Gratitude can often be confused for affection."

  "Are you saying because I took responsibility for her, she's going to love me like you did with Chief?"

  Johanna laughed softly, cuddling the baby to her shoulder. "Nobody is like Chief and me. But, I do know what it feels like to be a sixteen-year-old girl attracted to an older man. A man who would do anything not to hurt me. There's not another feeling in the world to know that someone will take care of you when you haven't had that comfort before."

  He exhaled a growl. He never wanted Sydney to feel obligated toward him. Hell, he thought she was older when they'd met, and now Johanna was making him feel like he needed to raise Sydney to adulthood without breaking her.

  "You might think your situation is different, but you are a lot like your dad when it comes to taking care of people. That honor inside of you is strong and buried deep." She leaned forward. "I'm going to give you one more piece of advice."

  "I don't need advice from you," he said.

  He loved Johanna like a sister. While she'd moved into his mom's house when she was young, he'd moved into the clubhouse at the same time to make room for her. He'd witnessed the obsessive love his father had for her, and hers in return.

  But, Johanna hadn't lived his life. He had five more years of living than her. He could handle Sydney on his own.

  "Tough. I'm going to tell you anyway." She lifted her brows. "You know why it worked for Chief and me? He needed me. Maybe you should work on letting Sydney know that you need her, too. You'd give her some incentive to stay."

  He glared, mulling the advice over.

  "That's if you're interested," said Johanna softly.

  He grunted.

  Johanna rubbed his arm and walked toward the clubhouse. He rolled his head around on his shoulders, easing the tension.

  A relationship with Sydney should be easy. She made it hard.

  He already had a long list of people he was responsible for. It was his job to make sure those around him remained protected and secure.

  He'd fight to live and take each day given to him because men depended on him, families needed support at home. Olin and Thorn needed settled with a family of their own — something neither one showed signs of doing. Olin with his fucked-up need to alienate himself at his house and taking risks as if he was untouchable since he'd danced with death. Thorn, more times than not, led other men into trouble.

  He trusted no one because, in the end, he was alone.

  Until Sydney. He wasn't alone with her.

  His feelings had nothing to do with the age gape and taking care of her. Sydney wavered between independence and need. An adult need. Because of her young age, that personality clouded the relationship.

  He stepped forward, planning to go into the clubhouse when D-Con limped through the door and gazed around.

  D-Con spotte
d him and raised his chin. "I was looking for you."

  "You and everyone else." He kept walking. "What's going on?"

  "Sydney's in the kitchen. It looks like she's been bawling." D-Con held up his hands and backed away. "Before you ask, I had nothing to do with the tears. I thought you should know."

  His chest seized. Sydney never cried, except when she had and that one time tore his heart in two.

  He walked past D-Con into the clubhouse and headed toward the kitchen. All members of Brikken were held responsible for Sydney's safety while on the property. Regardless if he was around or not.

  If one of them hurt her, he'd find the man responsible and take him down.

  In the kitchen, he came to a slamming stop. Sydney stood at the sink with her back to him. Physically, she was good.

  "Syd?"

  She jerked around and set the water glass on the counter. He took her all in and returned his gaze to her wet, spiked eyelashes.

  A heaviness settled on him. "Aw, Syd..."

  She ran to him, lunging the last step, and wrapped her arms around his waist. He cupped the back of her head. Her heavy breathing filled the room though she'd already pulled herself together without him. Her weak moment over, only her strength remained. And, that strength held on to him tightly.

  "Did someone do or say something?" he said, the question made harsher by his constricting throat muscles.

  She shook her head against the front of him. "I just wanted you."

  He closed his eyes an extra beat and inhaled deeply, calming down. "I'm here now."

  "Can we go home?" She lifted her head. "Please."

  He cupped her face and ran his thumbs over her lashes. How could a girl her age, alone without any family, friends, keep everything bottled up inside of her without breaking?

  He knew the answer. She couldn't carry that level of pain forever by herself. He could make sure he was here and carry the load for her. "Yeah, let's go home."

  Tucking her under his arm, he led her through the main room of the clubhouse and outside. Shouting came from the end of the line of motorcycles, and he stopped, straining to hear what was going on, and caught sight of two men throwing punches.