by Sophia Gray
My lips parted, but no sound came out. I couldn't talk. I couldn't vocalize just what I wanted because I didn't know exactly what I wanted. In this moment, I desired him, but would it last forever? Would we? With my past a blur, my future seemed just as hazy and unclear and that terrified me.
He must have read something in my face, or maybe he just didn't care to have an answer—yet—but he pulled himself up to me again bringing my face to his. His lips consumed mine, our lips and tongues battled, fighting a war of the most erotic nature, one where there were no victors and no losers. All that mattered was how it felt, and it felt so damn good.
After a moment, just kissing him wasn't enough for me. I had to touch him. Mindful to keep his clothes on in case anyone did happen to look our way, I reached beneath his shirt so my nails could run up and down the hard lines of his back. Pax was so muscular, he made me feel so safe when he held me. He could protect me from the evils of the world.
But who would protect me from him? Because with each kiss, I feared I was losing myself to him.
I clung to him as he pulled me to a sitting position. Our hands and lips roving all over, kissing, tasting and touching, desperately trying to get our fill of each other's bodies. It would never be enough. We could attempt to satiate our thirsts of desire for each other, but we would never be satisfied, and somehow, it didn't seem like a crime to want to keep on going despite that. The trying was so fulfilling.
Our hips gyrated against each other's, bumping and grinding, my body vibrating with need. I knew it wouldn't be long before I orgasmed again. He made my body come alive sexually. He fulfilled my every erotic desire, even the ones I didn't know I had. Or maybe I had. Maybe we had had sex in public before. I didn't know, nor did I care. The past didn't matter, only right here, right now.
Oh, yeah, he definitely was making me enjoy having sex in public. I even glanced out of the opening of the cove, almost hoping someone was watching us pleasure each other, but no one was.
"Are you ready?" he whispered in my ear, his breath warm.
"For anything." I stared at him, breathing heavily. My breasts heaving against his large hands as he squeezed them.
"I'm going to make you scream," he warned and promised at the same time.
I laughed softly and shook my head emphatically, my long hair flying everywhere. "No, you won't."
"Yes, I will," he averred, his eyes going dark.
No. Sex in public was one thing but announcing it to the world? Not going to happen. Nope.
"Go ahead. Try and make me," I challenged him.
His lips quirked into that sexy smile. "For that, you little minx. I’m going to make you beg for it first. There isn’t anything I can’t make you do." It might've sounded like he was boasting, but he was probably just telling the truth.
His finger trailed up my arm and I shivered. He really could make me do anything, including coming multiple times. He knew me, knew every inch of my body; it was wonderful and terrifying at the same time.
And that's when I knew that I wanted the same thing from him. I wanted to be able to make him do anything I wanted him to do, both inside of the bedroom and outside of it. For us to work for the long term, that had to be the case.
Only, I had no idea if I would ever reach that point with him, even though I desperately wanted it.
His hands slid down to my hips and he turned me over, guiding me onto all fours. Sex from behind. I already knew he loved this position and honestly, I loved it too. It was so dirty and animalistic, savage almost. It lacked the personal connection I normally wanted from sex, but right now, I just needed him any way I could get him. I shoved my ass back toward him, waiting for him to enter.
"Bring it," I said through gritted teeth as he lifted my miniskirt and shoved my panties to the side, his finger brushing against the already sensitive folds of my sex.
I braced myself, waiting for him to slam into me with one thrust, but he eased his tip in slowly, inch by delicious inch, tortuously, until finally all of him was inside of me. His strokes were slow but persistent inside of me, almost gently. I couldn't believe how sensual it was without the roughness. Sometimes, there was no other term for what we did other than fucking. Right now, this was the closest we had come to lovemaking, and that realization alone was almost enough to push me over the edge.
The fingers of his right hand slipped from my hip, around to my clit, the stimulation and his steady thrusting had me seeing colorful stars. I wasn’t going to last much longer. I was moaning—moaning, not screaming—but it was getting harder to remember why I had to keep quiet, so freaking hard…
All at once, he changed up the tempo. It wasn't almost lovemaking anymore, but full on fucking. Pax was ramming into me hard, fast and deep, so deep, penetrating deeper than ever before. His fingers were still busy working my clit and it was all I could do to remain on all fours, to take the pounding. It felt so good, so incredible, and when I came, I screamed out, "Pax!" as loud as I could.
And I didn't give a damn who heard me.
Chapter Twelve
Pax
The sand of the cove felt cool against my feverish skin. I was sweating, burning almost, after that incredible orgasm. I pulled Jasmine close to me, and one look at her face told me she was as spent as I was. For the first time in a long while, I felt… not happy, no, not exactly. Content. Yeah, that was it. I liked being with Jasmine. I could be the bad boy with her, in the bedroom and outside of it, but there was something about her that gave me the incentive to be a better man too.
I wanted to be better for her. I wanted to deserve her. Because I had done a lot of messed up, fucked up shit in my life, and I sure as hell didn't deserve happiness, and she definitely made me happy. But if I could change…
She sighed and nuzzled against me. If she were a cat, she'd be purring. "You got your way," she mumbled into my chest.
"You upset about that?" My chest rumbled as I laughed. I always get my way.
"Not really." I could hear the smile in her voice, and I grinned too.
For a few minutes, we just rested there, not talking, not moving. It felt amazing. We'd come at the same time and I've never felt closer to her, than in that moment. Incredible… but also scary as fuck because I wasn't used to needing someone. Even though I had my boys, I was always on my own. To have someone else in my life who meant this much to me, alarmed me. Even when we had been together before, I hadn't been this scared. Maybe it was because I knew what life after Allie—the girl she'd been before the car accident—entailed, how much that life sucked. I couldn't go through that again. It would destroy me and I could never come back from it. I'd be lost to the darkness that threatened me daily, with no hope of escape.
When the silence felt like it would cripple me, I had to break it. I rubbed her back gently as I asked, "What do you want in your future?"
Honestly, I meant more "who" than "what" but I wasn't about to get ahead of myself. She knew about my missions and she hated them. It wouldn't take much to push her away again. I had to keep her close, play it safe to some extent. At least outside of the bedroom.
Jasmine pulled back and propped her head up with an arm, elbow buried into the sand. "I've been thinking about that a lot lately." She bit her lower lip, looking so vulnerable, I wanted to pull her close. "I know I dropped out of college. Marie told me I had been a waitress. I don't just want to wait on other people for the rest of my life, so I think… I think I want to go back to school."
"For what?" I reached over and brushed her hair back. She looked younger than her years, tiny, so fragile, but there was a light in her eyes I hoped would never burn out. She was a fighter, my Jasmine. Was she mine? I sure as hell wanted her to be.
"Beauty school," she said without hesitation. "I know it's crazy to even think about, with having so many bills to pay back and everything, to even think about adding tuition onto it but… Yeah, I want to go to beauty school and own my own salon one day." She sounded so hopeful, so sad, but also so happ
y. Driven.
A pang hit my chest. Weirdly, or maybe not so weirdly, I wanted to provide that for her. I wanted to give her everything her heart desired. I could find a way to handle her bills, to take care of her, help her get on her feet…
But what if when she had money, when she had her own salon, what if she decided she didn't need me anymore? I didn't think she would use me for my money—especially, if she knew how I earned my income, she wouldn't be any happier with me than when she'd learned about my missions—but I could see her moving on and settling into her new life without me.
The thought felt like a dagger stabbing into my chest.
I would just have to be there for her and hope that she cared about me as much as I cared about her. No, fuck caring. I loved her. Despite my intentions to never let her back into my life, she'd wormed her way back into my heart. This might not just be her second chance. This could be our second chance.
And I'd be damned sure to make certain we both gave it our all. If we didn't work out this time around, it wouldn't be because of a lack of trying that was for damn sure.
"It's stupid, huh? A stupid, silly dream." She dropped her head back onto my chest and sighed.
"It's not stupid or silly." Nothing about her was stupid. "It's your dream. It's perfect."
Jasmine lifted her head again and stared at me, her eyes full of hope. "You're not just saying that?"
"I think you should follow your heart." I kissed her, soft and quick. Even that was enough to make my cock start to stir.
"Follow my heart," she repeated. A tender smile crossed her lips. Fuck, she was beautiful. "I like the sound of that."
"I'll help you," I said hoarsely. Whatever she wanted, I would try my damnedest to make it possible.
This second kiss was just as soft and quick as the first one, but there was more to it. The kiss was a promise. We deserved a second chance.
Shit, I deserved a second chance.
Chapter Thirteen
Pax
We lay there in the sandy cove for a long while, only leaving because we were hungry. Breakfast was always the worst meal of the day at the clubhouse.
Hand in hand, we made our way back to my bike. Before either of us could climb on, my phone rang. Sam the Slayer. One of my best buds.
"What is it?" I asked. He, more than most of the others, knew about my history with Allie, and while the guys weren’t aware of her memory loss yet or that she was going by Jasmine now, he wouldn't interrupt my time with her unless it was important.
And, fuck, did it turn out to be important.
"Turned on the news this morning," he said without even greeting me first. "The police are reporting that a local man is involved in a child molestation ring."
My eyes narrowed. "Who is he? Where is he?"
"They didn't release his name, at least not yet, but they did say he's on the lam," Sam said.
"Fucking asshole," I swore. I hung up and curled my free hand into a tight fist.
"What's wrong?" Jasmine had crossed her arms, and from the expression of worry and apprehension on her face, I knew she thought I had a lead on another mission. Which I did. A very basic start to one. A difficult one. The police were never involved in our missions, and our targets were never on the run. I'd have to play this one out carefully if I didn't want to get caught.
"Trust me, you don't want to know the details." I climbed onto my bike and gestured for her to do the same. "We need to get to the clubhouse."
She hesitated, and I wanted to groan. Just when I had promised to help her straighten out her life, here I was, mucking mine up all the more. Despite knowing my crusade against pedos could ruin us, I just couldn't bring myself to stop. Not yet at least. As much as I wanted to do anything she asked, I wasn't positive I'd be able to end it if she demanded it of me. Couldn't I change in other ways to be worthy of her?
"Pax, please." She wasn't pleading. She was too strong for that. Stubborn too. Loved that about her.
She softly gripped my arm as she remained on the sidewalk, it had me shifting my focus from my ride to her. "It's important," I said plainly, willing her to climb on my bike behind me.
I wasn't going to explain things to her. I wasn't going to beg her to understand. Fuck, it might not be possible for anyone else to understand. Sure, my boys in the motorcycle club were with me, my partners in crime, but not even they understood my drive, my need to do this. Dark, twisted, and fucked up. That was me. Either Jasmine could handle that, or she couldn't.
"Are you coming or not?" I demanded.
Jasmine closed her eyes for a moment. Her lips moved slightly like she was talking to herself. Then she climbed on behind me. At first, she didn't hold on as tightly as she normally did, but I flew on the highway, going at least twenty over the speed limit, forcing her to cling to me. If I weren't so pissed off, I would have really enjoyed that ride with her.
We reached the clubhouse in record time. At least there hadn't been any cops on the highway to nab me for speeding. As I parked and climbed off, I turned to her. "I need to talk to the boys. Do you think you could…?"
"I can clean up the kitchen and get started on making lunch." She shrugged, not looking me in the eyes. "I'm not going to mother all of you, but I guess I need to earn my keep somehow if I'm going to be living here."
"You are going to be living here." I rubbed her shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension that was now brewing between us.
She shrugged again, shifting away from me as if she didn't want me to touch her.
Fuck. I didn't need this. Not now. Honestly? Not ever.
"You could always earn your keep the way you did the first night." I wiggled my hips suggestively, thinking back to the first time Jasmine and I slept together.
She slapped my shoulder, but she was grinning too. Damn, when she smiled, it felt like everything just might end up all right after all.
"That shouldn't have any strings attached to it," she countered.
I lifted my eyebrows. "That? Meaning…"
Her gaze was bold and sexy as hell. "Fucking," she answered, but she said it so softly she might as well have said lovemaking instead.
"No strings, huh?" I grinned recklessly but inwardly, I winced. No strings meant no commitment, and that was the last thing I wanted from her. She had to know that, right?
"Yes. It makes it all feel more… dangerous." Her eyes had been bright, but now they clouded over. Fuck, she was thinking about my missions now. I just knew it.
I had to redirect the subject. "You like living on the edge. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself while we were fucking in public."
"True." Jasmine's smile returned, wide and bright and beautiful, and damn it all if I didn't want to just take her into my arms and kiss her senseless, maybe even more right here, in front of the clubhouse.
But I couldn't. I had work to do, a new pedo to nail.
Still, I gave her a brief, tight hug. She embraced me back, but her sigh cut through me.
"What was the sigh for?" I asked.
"Can't a sigh be one of contentment?" she asked, gazing up at me with her wide, expressive, beautiful eyes. When she looked at me like that, I would do anything for her.
"You're content?" I wanted so fucking badly to believe that. Could I really make her happy when she couldn't accept all of me?
"For now." With a grin that would turn on priests, she winked at me. She sauntered into the clubhouse, hips swaying. She could be such a damn tease.
My cock wanted to rise, but just thinking about why I was here was enough to kill my hard on. Shaking away my lust, I hurried into the clubhouse and instructed Sam the Slayer, to gather everyone. By the time I made my way to the meeting room, it was filled—just about everyone was here. Good. We would need all hands on deck for this one.
Sam was the last to walk in and shut the door behind him. I glanced at him, but he jerked his head toward Eyebrow. Larry had the largest, thickest unibrow anyone had ever seen. His nickname might not be o
riginal, but it was well deserved.
"What's the latest?" I asked him, my tone biting. Something told me this wasn't going to be our everyday, run of the mill kind of pedo.
"It's really twisted, this one." Eyebrow furrowed his eyebrows as he shook his head, lips sneering.
"Just get on with it," I growled, drumming my fingers on the table, anxious and uneasy. I just wanted to hit the streets, to follow leads, to nail the guy.
"A daycare. The guy runs a fucking daycare. He forced his wife to look the other way when he…" Even the guys had a hard time going into details. They might not have been molested personally, but every single one of them knew someone personally who had been. As depressing as that was, it bonded us together.
