Forbidden Rider: A Lost Saxons Novel #5

by Ames, Jessica

  He slams into me over and over with just enough bite to sit on the edge of pain, but to elicit that pleasure that is driving me wild. I’ve never had it so good.

  I dig my nails into his back, dragging him closer to me, trying to force his thrusts deeper still, urging him harder. We’re animals, nothing more. There’s no sweetness here, nothing more than desire and need.

  And afterwards, I’m certain there will be regret—regret for breaking the code of brotherhood, for sleeping with a man like Jem, for crossing lines that should not be crossed, but for now all I care about is the man giving me the best sex of my life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I wake with a dry mouth and a dull headache. I blink until Josh’s guest room comes into focus and the last remnants of sleep are chased away. It’s then I become aware of the body at my back, and I remember what I did last night—or rather who I did last night.

  Buggering hell.

  I hear movement behind me. Jem. Oh my God.

  We had sex last night.

  We had sex…

  Multiple times.

  I am the world’s worst sister.

  I lie still for a moment and realise he’s moving around the room—perhaps getting dressed? Does he already regret what happened? Do I regret it? I don’t think I do. I had the best sex of my life, and I truly mean that. Jem was amazing. I doubt he felt the same way about me, but from my perspective, I have no complaints.

  He fucked me again for hours until my body felt bruised and spent. I expected him to leave afterwards, but he didn’t. He pulled the covers over us both, kissed my head and fell asleep. I thought it was strange that he did that, given we probably won’t repeat this again, but maybe he didn’t want to be an arse. It was nice. I liked falling asleep with him. I liked it too much. It felt good. Right. Perfect.

  In the stark light of the morning, it’s almost cruel to remember how good it was. It promises so much that can’t be delivered. It would be better if I didn’t remember any of it.

  The sound of his belt buckle jingling makes me stiffen. He’s getting dressed, meaning he’s readying to leave. I close my eyes quickly, wondering if he will go without a word. Do I want him to leave without saying goodbye? Do I want to do the awkward morning after dance? Not really, especially not when I’m feeling a little attached. I should have known it would never just be sex, not for me. I’m not a girl who does one-night stands. In fact, this is my first one, and it’s not my finest moment. I should have listened to the sensible part of my brain, the part that said this would be a disaster. Not only is Jem in a motorcycle club, but he’s also Josh’s friend. My brother is going to hit the roof when he finds out.

  If he finds out.

  Let’s hope that never happens.

  “Angel?”

  A feather light touch on my arm sends a shiver through my body and I can’t stop my eyes opening in response. When I do, I’m greeted with Jem’s brown eyes. He’s crouched at the side of the bed in front of me. I expect to see displeasure, censure in his face for what we did last night, for the fact we crossed the unspoken line, but all I see is warmth.

  This surprises me.

  I thought he might blame me for last night, be angry, ignore me again.

  “Hey,” he smiles. “I’m sorry. I hate to wake you, sweetheart.”

  He shocks me further by leaning in and brushing his mouth over mine. I respond more out of instinct than anything else, but when his fingers move into my hair, my body takes over and I kiss him back like a love-starved woman. I need him. God, how did I get to this place where I need this irritating, but handsome man?

  When he pulls back, he leaves me panting, and a little shaky.

  “I have to go and sort shit out this morning. I really wish I didn’t have to. I would love to stay in bed with you.”

  As he speaks, he caresses his fingers up my arm and I shiver at the gesture.

  “It’s okay…” I say slowly, not sure what to make of his words, surprised he’s being nice. I thought he would be gone in record time.

  “I’ll be a few hours at most. Beth and Lo got engaged last night,” he says.

  I blink. “Oh! That’s amazing.” I suddenly feel terrible for not being at the party, and for dragging him away. “I’m sorry you had to leave last night.”

  “Don’t be. They disappeared halfway through the evening anyway, which I really do not want to think about why, but I need to be at Mum’s this morning for some family breakfast thing. Will you wait here for me until I’m done?”

  I want to, I really do, but I have my own commitments. Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait here for him. This implies carrying on… this. Whatever the heck this is.

  “Visiting is in a few hours. I’ll need to get to the hospital.”

  “I’ll message one of the brothers, ask them to tell Wade that I’m giving you a day of R and R.”

  I arch my brow. “Is that what we’re calling what we did?”

  He smirks. “We can go with the truth instead. I’m sure ‘I’m fucking your sister’s brains out’ will go down a treat.”

  I flush. “Don’t be so crass.”

  “I can use nicer words, but I don’t think you’re ready to hear them, Pip.” He’s right about that. “I don’t care if Wade knows we slept together.”

  I sit up in the bed, my legs sliding over the edge, careful to make sure I keep the sheet with me. I don’t know why, given he saw every inch of me last night, but in the cold light of day, I’m feeling a little exposed. Especially as he’s fully dressed in jeans, his plaid shirt (which I adore on him) and his kutte. He looks good, too. Too good. My mouth waters. He shouldn’t get me this hot and bothered; he’s not even my type. I like my men clean, shaven, groomed. Jem is the opposite of all these things. He’s wild, with unruly hair and two-day growth on his chin that isn’t by design, but because he hasn’t shaved. His tattoos span up his arms, under his clothes and he’s so masculine, even standing there with a lopsided grin on his face.

  “You should care. We both should.”

  “Okay, maybe I phrased that wrong. I care, I really do, but I’m not going to apologise either for what we did.”

  I close my eyes briefly. “He’s going to hit the roof.”

  “You think he’s going to be pissed off that I deflowered his little sister?”

  “Deflowered me?” I snort. “Hardly. I didn’t go to bed with you a virgin, Jem, so you can knock that fantasy out of your head.”

  “Angel, I really don’t want to know about you with other men,” he growls under his breath. “Especially not after I just spent the night inside you.”

  “Sorry.”

  He pushes his hair back from his face. “Look, it’s as simple as this: Wade’s a brother and a friend, but he’s not my keeper—nor yours—and he can keep his fucking nose out of my business.”

  “It’s really not that simple.”

  “Yeah, angel, it is. I took my colours because I wanted to live a life without rules and boundaries. And the only person I take orders from is my president, and that’s hit and miss. Your brother doesn’t get to lay down rules about who I sleep with and spend my time with. I respect Wade, and I hate that he’s going to feel put out by this, but it’s too bad. We both had a good time last night and that’s all I give a shit about.” He cocks his brow. “You did have a good time, right? I mean, I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I know I’m not exactly shit on that front.”

  Jesus.

  “You’re perfectly fine on that front.”

  More than fine, in fact, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s a sex god in the bedroom.

  “I don’t honestly know, Jem. Mine and Josh’s relationship is… complicated. I hardly know him myself. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out we slept together, but I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardise what we’re building.”

  “He might be annoyed, but not at you, angel. It’ll be me he’ll be mad at.” He kisses me. “Don�
�t overthink it.”

  “How can I not overthink it? We slept together.”

  “So?”

  His blasé attitude annoys me.

  “Well, I don’t want to lie to him.”

  “So, you want to come clean?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Then you do want to lie?”

  I open then close my mouth. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “He’s still unwell. I don’t want to make him worse.”

  And this undoubtedly will make him worse. I don’t think he’s going to like knowing I’ve slept with his friend.

  Jem stares at me a moment before he lets out a long breath that is filled with unveiled frustration.

  “He’s a big boy, Piper. Us sleeping together isn’t going to push him into a stroke.”

  I blink at him. Sleeping together? As in continuing? Does he think this is more than a one-time thing? Do I want it to be more than a one-time thing? I have no idea. I didn’t think he would consider it more than a fling, so I’m not sure how to deal with this sudden roadblock. Even without the issue of Josh, I can’t date a biker.

  “Jem… this can’t happen again. You know that, right?”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, because it can’t. Once was bad enough.”

  His eyes widen. “Wow, way to kick a guy in the balls. ‘Once was bad enough?’”

  I cringe. “I don’t mean it like that. It wasn’t bad. Not at all. Actually, it was completely fabulous.” I shake myself when he grins at me. “That’s not really the point, though.”

  “It was fabulous, huh?”

  “Focus, Jem. Your prowess in the bedroom isn’t in question here.”

  “Then what is?”

  “This.” I point at the bed before pointing between us. “Us. We can’t continue this.”

  “Why not?” he repeats, sounding very much like an annoying child. “We just had fabulous mind-blowing sex. Why can’t we continue that? I’m certainly not opposed to the idea. In fact, I’m very much in favour.”

  “Of course you are, but we’re not the only people in this equation.”

  “As I keep saying—Wade doesn’t get to pick who I sleep with.”

  I frown at him. “Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not sleeping with friends’ little sisters?”

  “Why? Do you want there to be?”

  I shift in the bed. “Yes. No.” I wince. “I don’t know.”

  He cups my face. “From the moment I met you, I’ve been trying to ignore this pull between us. We have chemistry that is off the fucking charts. I’m drawn to you, and unless my dick is completely broken, I’d say you feel the same. I’m tired of ignoring it. Life’s short. My father dying how he did taught me that. You have to seize the day, live in the now, all that feel-good shit they put on fridge magnets.”

  He pries my fingers off the sheet, and it falls, exposing my breasts. The grin that crosses his face as he stares unabashed at my naked chest makes me blush. “You have very stunning tits, Pip.”

  He grabs one and squeezes before latching his mouth around the nipple. I can’t help but gasp. My hands slam into the mattress behind me to anchor myself as he swirls his tongue around the hardening bud. I watch as he pulls the sheet down and parts my thighs.

  “You also have a very beautiful pussy.”

  He pushes two fingers into my wetness. I sag back against the mattress, my bum hanging over the edge, my feet flat to the floor, my thighs as wide as I can get them, and let him finger-fuck me. And he doesn’t do it gently. He goes hard and fast and deep.

  My orgasm hits me embarrassingly fast and when he pulls his fingers from my body, he sucks my juices from them.

  His grin makes me blush. Oh my God, he’s so dirty. I raise my hands to cover my face and as I do, I hear his sharp hiss of breath, followed by a ‘fuck’. I uncover my face as he moves back to the bed and gently, but firmly, pulls my arm down. I have no idea what he’s doing and it takes me a moment to realise he’s clocked the nasty bruise that has formed on my arm where Grant grabbed me yesterday—a bruise that, in the morning light, has started to form into three separate bruises… finger marks. I know exactly what they are, but to anyone else it looks like just three contusions.

  Maybe I can spin this…

  “Fuck, angel.” His voice sounds laden with guilt. “You should have told me I was being too heavy-handed with you last night.”

  Uh, what?

  Oh, bugger. He thinks he hurt me? And he looks devastated by the prospect. He scrubs his fingers over his mouth as he stares at the darkly mottled contusion. It would be easy to let him believe it. We were rough last night, no bones about it. Between my legs aches deliciously with the evidence of just how rough. Letting him think he caused this would avoid the conversation about my stepfather being a complete bastard and my mother putting up with him hurting her, but I can’t let him think he did this. It wouldn’t be right.

  “You didn’t hurt me, Jem,” I tell him quietly.

  “Piper, I can see the evidence right there.” He rakes his hair back from his face, a gesture I notice he does when he’s stressed.

  “It was there before you came here last night.”

  His brow draws together. “What?” His face morphs from confused to rage as he pushes back from the bed, from me. “Who did this to you?”

  I don’t bother to snag the sheet again, this time reaching for a clean tee in the bedside drawer. I tug it over my head.

  “No one did this to me, you silly lout. I’m clumsy and tired, and clumsy, tired people are accident-prone.”

  He stares at me and for a moment, I’m not sure he buys my story. Then he sighs. “You need to start taking care of yourself more.”

  “I know.” Emboldened, I reach out and stroke him through his jeans. “But let me take care of you first.”

  He glances down at my hand, his face softening. “Are you trying to distract me, angel?”

  I smile. “Is it working?”

  “Absolutely.” I reach for his belt and undo the buckle. He doesn’t stop me, so I undo his buttons and drag his jeans down his legs. “Sit.”

  He surprises me by obeying my order and climbing onto the bed, then I push his shirt and kutte up his stomach out of the way. He’s already hard in his boxer briefs and when I run my hand over him through the material, his legs twitch. I glance up his body and watch his darkening eyes as they lock onto me.

  I feel elated that I can make him look at me like this. I’ve never had a man look at me like this in my entire life.

  Slipping my fingers under the waistband of his underwear, I slide them down his hips, which he lifts a little off the bed so I can move them, and I reveal his hard cock. It’s thick, veiny and looks ready to blow. I start at the tip. The first swipe of my tongue has his legs twitching. Good. I want him writhing, like he had me writhing before. I swirl my tongue back and forth, tasting the precum leaking from the top, loving the little grunts he’s making.

  Then I move down the shaft. I alternate between licking and kissing, placing my mouth around him completely, and licking up him. I play with his balls as I go, applying more or less pressure, depending upon his reactions. He grunts and groans, moans and whimpers through the whole thing, playing with my hair, my tits when he can reach them, swatting my arse when I’m close enough, stroking me, and biting his bottom lip.

  I’ve never liked giving head before—until now. With Jem, it’s different. I want to please him, I want to see his pleasure. And when he finally comes, I feel like I’ve won the lottery. I would have taken it in my mouth, but he pulls back and sprays it onto his stomach at the last moment, his head thrown back, neck muscles corded tightly.

  “Fuck, you really are an angel,” he breathes out.

  I snort at his words, but guilt rolls through me. I was not nice when I first came to town, I was not nice to him or his friends when they were trying to take care of me. Had I known he had this sweeter side to him, a side he keeps showing me, I might have been less
bitchy.

  “I’m pretty far from that, Jem.” My voice is soft as I head into the bathroom and get some tissue and a cloth to clean him up, so he doesn’t get his clothes soiled. It also gives me a moment to collect myself.

  When I return to the bedroom, he hasn’t moved from where I left him, but he has a sated, dreamy look on his face as he stares at me. I’m not sure I deserve it.

  “I should be looking after you,” he tells me.

  “Who made that rule up?”

  “I don’t know, but isn’t that how it works? Chivalry and all that.”

  “This is the twenty-first century.”

  He tosses the cloth onto the bedside table and fixes his clothes. Then he stands and pulls me against him, squeezing my bum, which is exposed under my tee.

  “I like you being easily accessible.”

  “Well, don’t get used to it. I meant what I said: this can’t happen again.” No matter how amazing the sex was, and it was amazing. Our lives are incompatible—not just because of the distance, but because he’s who he is and I’m who I am. I’m not looking to take a walk on the wild side. I’m not Cami. I’m too old for teenage rebellions.

  “Absolutely not,” he agrees. He kisses me again before he rests his forehead against mine. “I better go before I climb back into bed with you and my mum kicks my arse for being late.”

  “You shouldn’t come back here later.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean it, Jem. Don’t text the boys. I’ll visit Josh instead. This can’t happen again. We have to stay away from each other.”

  Saying those words cuts through me, but it’s true. Being around him is too tempting, too hard.

  “I know.” He hasn’t moved his forehead from mine, but he grips my bum tighter.

  “We can’t do this. We’re playing with fire.”

  “You’ve already burned me, angel.”

  He kisses me once more and then leaves.