“Nothing.” He shook his head and offered her a reassuring smile. “Just that I’m really, really glad we’re here right now.”
“So am I,” she said huskily. Her eyes darkened as they dropped down to her hands and flew back up to his face. “Thank you for coming back. Thank you for having the courage to change your mind.”
“I should be thanking you… for having the grace to forgive me.”
“Okay, enough with that. I want these pants off. Now.”
Percy knew he said she could take charge. That she could touch him as much as she wanted to, but when her sweet warm hands grazed just below his naval, he just lost it. He picked her up easily and carried her over to the kitchen.
“I thought you said you didn’t want coffee,” she gasped.
“Nope. No coffee. Just you.” He bruised her mouth with a scorching kiss and savored every single second of it. How the hell did I waste any time with her not doing this? Not kissing her?
He hiked that navy pencil skirt up her hips and the thing actually had enough stretch that it gave way. She had a navy blue thong underneath, just the cotton type, but holy hell, it might as well have been the world’s sexiest lingerie. It was his turn to fumble with the button of his jeans. The damn thing was hard to undo, or maybe it was just that his hands were like putty, shaking and useless. He finally worked it free and pushed down his jeans and his boxers. His cock was so damn hard it stood up straight against his abs.
“You’re so muscular,” Shanna said thickly as she broke away. “God, can you please never wear a shirt again? I love to look at you. I love to see you.”
“For you, maybe just for you, I would consider it.”
Shanna grinned wickedly up at him. “Would you consider putting your cock inside of me? I’ve really missed feeling you there.”
“Feeling you where?”
“So deep that it hurts. So deep that I can feel you there the next day.”
He groaned. “Lord… you really don’t want to make this last, do you?” Amazingly enough, two twin spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Right. I forgot about the dirty talk. You’re a good girl. I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“You could retrain me. You could make me into a dirty girl.”
“Nah. I like you just the way you are.” He bent his head and whispered in his ear. “Turns out you might be more of a dirty girl that you think.”
“I’m sure she’s buried inside me somewhere.”
“Did you think about this? After you left Mexico?”
“Of course. All the time.”
He let out a quick hiss of breath when that slight palm wrapped around his cock. She massaged the shaft, pumping him up and down with her tight little fist. God, it was glorious. She was glorious. Her touch never could have wounded him. No, she was the one who healed him, who made him whole.
“Did you think about me?” She kept working his cock, slowly, tortuously.
“No,” he panted. “Not once.”
Shanna giggled. “Liar. I know you thought about slipping into me, about feeling my muscles clench around you, about how tight and wet I am for you.”
“There she is, that inner bad girl.”
He needed her to stop. Stop caressing him like that with her hand, stop the talking, stop the tempting, stop being so damn pretty and sexy and amazing. Or he wasn’t going to make it.
“I don’t care if you come on me or in me or in thirty seconds or thirty minutes. You’re here now. We’re together. That isn’t going to change, so we can do this. Over and over and over.”
Oh lord. Her voice. He could have come just listening to that smooth silk in her tone. Percy shoved his cock forward, flexing his hips to give her an idea of just how much he wanted her. Of where he wanted her. Of where he wanted to be.
She got the idea. Shanna guided him with that little palm, right to her panties. They were soaked. His craving kicked up a notch. Or ten thousand. He didn’t know. His mind went blank and he saw stars. He somehow managed to coordinate his hand enough to be able to push that thong aside so that there was no barrier between them.
He was hungry. Starved for her. He could have been gentle, could have eased inside of her inch by inch, but then her legs wrapped around his waist and her feet, still in those damn heels she loved to wear, ground into the part of his ass that his jeans didn’t still cover.
He loved this, having her like this, illicit, in her damn kitchen, both of them still half clothed. He buried himself deep inside of her in a single, swift stroke. Her little cry of passion, ripped from the depths of her throat, her heart, her soul, nearly did him in.
He’d never felt anything even half as amazing. And the half as amazing was her, the first time he’d had her. He’d felt a spark of connection then, that feeling he’d always feared. He didn’t fear it now. He had no fucking idea how good it would feel to embrace it. To be truly one with her.
He couldn’t stay still. He wanted to, wanted to let her feel him pulsing and throbbing inside of her, wanted to feel her tight and hot around him, but he couldn’t. He rocked his hips hard, driving into her again and again. His mouth fell to hers and he ate at her like he was never going to taste her again. Teeth, tongues, saliva, he demanded all of her and she gave it eagerly.
He worked her hard, his cock driving in and out, his hips surging forward in a rapid motion that he had no power over. He knew she was close, knew by the way her thighs trembled at his waist, by the way that tremor spread through the entire length of her legs, by the way her feet shook in those shoes she still had on. He knew by the spasms of her muscles around his cock, that she was going to come.
When she did, she wasn’t quiet. She broke the kiss and moaned next to his ear. Those throaty sounds changed to a high pitched whimper, before they crashed back into a lower register.
It was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. The way her pussy clenched his cock… it was the sweetest feeling on earth. He was able to hold off for another two seconds before he let himself find his own release. He plunged deep inside of her, filled her in sharp, hot bursts.
It was more than glorious, it was… indescribable. The way their bodies fit so well together. The way they moved, as one. The way he felt totally connected and completely at peace. The wild peaks and the free fall, the surrender, the give and the take… it was all beyond words.
“Wow,” Shanna panted. Her head had dropped back and she slowly straightened. She made no move to untangle their limbs or to pull away. She smiled up at him, her face absolutely radiant. “You know, I always thought it was kind of weird, watching a guy come. But not you. Actually, I’d really like to see it again.”
Percy was momentarily struck speechless, but then he laughed. It was a deep rumbling sound that filled up the whole kitchen. “I could stand that,” he admitted. “Just as long as I get to watch you as well.”
“How many more times are we talking here?”
He shrugged, his heart so full it literally felt like it might burst. He would have called that corny before, or so much worse. He would have thought it was a curse and an impossibility for him. He thought he was beyond feeling, beyond redemption, beyond love. He felt, for the first time in his life, like he’d truly come home. He already knew if Shanna wanted him to stay, he would. He’d sell his house and get his ID taken care of and go legit. If she wanted to move to Mexico, he was on board for that too. God… anywhere in the word. He’d go anywhere for her.
“All night?”
Shanna nodded slowly. Those rose hued lips he loved so much, already bruised with his kiss, turned up yet again. He’d never get tired of seeing her smile. Never.
“Sounds amazing,” she said huskily. “Can we start right now?”
Epilogue
SHANNA
Birth. It wasn’t neat. It wasn’t clean or pretty or sweet or anything like what they showed on TV or in the movies. Or even what they talked about in books. She felt like all the people who were mothers in the world sugar coated it a littl
e, just so that they wouldn’t frighten those who had yet to experience it.
It was painful. It was long hours of sweating and moaning, of screaming, of thinking the pain would never end. It was blackness closing in around the edges, it was throwing up randomly, because the body didn’t know what else to do. It was more screaming, shaking, pushing… endless pushing. It was excruciating pain, it was being helpless. It was being absolutely terrified that something would go wrong. It was hours and hours of enduring anything beyond what she thought it would be. It was the man she loved, weeping beside her because he felt so damn helpless.
And then their son was born. Jesse Steven. A beautiful, red faced, wrinkly, screaming, healthy baby boy.
The more hours that passed after the birth, the more she forgot how absolutely excruciating it had been. She forgot every single time she studied the details of her son’s perfect little face, every time she caressed the delicate petal soft skin and held his little hand in hers.
“He’s so perfect.” Even though Percy was exhausted after going through twelve hours of labor with her, he still roused every single time their son stirred or cried in the little clear bassinet next to her hospital bed.
“Yes.” Shanna couldn’t really get anything else out. She was tired. She was beyond sore. Her body ached and burned and she felt she’d never be fully right again, though that would probably pass, but she’d do it all over again in a second. Every single moment of it. Just not yet. She was more than willing to wait a year or two.
Percy reached for her hand. He twined his fingers gently through hers. His touch was so sweet and soft, barely there at all, as if he was afraid she’d shatter after the ordeal.
“We survived it together.” She looked into the tired eyes of the man she loved so very much. There were black smudges under his eyes and spidery lines were more pronounced at the corners. They were there at his lips too. He looked as exhausted as she felt.
“No one can prepare you for that.” Percy squeezed her hand a little harder.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to be on your end. You probably felt rather helpless.”
“It was pretty bad.”
“I knew it was bad when you kept looking at me like that. Like you were the one who was dying.”
“I’m sorry.” He smiled slowly, easily. It was a smile she’d grown used to seeing but never took for granted.
“It’s over now. It could have been worse. Imagine if you’d never come back and my mom would have had to be the one in the room with me. I couldn’t even think of what that would have been like. She probably would have yelled at me for not following her advice, like always, and making a mess of things, like always, and then she would have met her grandson and dissolved into happy tears. God… I’m glad she agreed to give us a few days and just come over when we get home.”
“No doubt. And I always, always would have come back. If only to spare you from your mom.”
Shanna wrinkled her nose. Helen didn’t love Percy, but she was slowly coming around. Slowly. Percy would win her over eventually. Shanna could already tell. Their son would be a huge part of it. No one would be able to resist his tiny sweet perfection.
That and the fact that Percy was incredible. The guy took his GED in a few months. He aced it. He talked about becoming a mechanic, but he was real good at what he was doing already. Buying old bikes, fixing them up, and selling them for a profit. The idea wasn’t his. Apparently he’d found the inspiration from an old friend. It wasn’t just bikes. He did the occasional classic car here and there. He had a small spot he rented out, an old bay in an ancient warehouse, and he made it work. Even Shanna was taken aback at just how successful he was.
Percy wasn’t the kind of person who ever thought about that though. He would have been just as happy living with almost nothing, had it been just him. She suspected he did it all for her. She wanted him to be happy, though, for himself too. Which was why they hadn’t moved out of her condo. They were waiting. One day, they’d find a place that felt truly like home. Likely it was going to be Mexico. Shanna wasn’t entirely sure, but they had lots of time to figure it out.
“Well, that’s all over now. All of it. We have a beautiful son. Jesse. I love that name. I can’t wait to take him home.”
“I can’t wait until he’s old enough to drive a bike.”
“Oh lord,” Shanna muttered lovingly. “You and your bikes. You’ll have him on that thing before he can even walk.”
“Count on it. We did our maternity photos with the bike. We can do his baby pictures with it too.”
“You’re… you’re impossible,” she laughed softly. She glanced at the bassinet where her son was sleeping peacefully, as though he’d been there for days and days and not just rudely thrust into the world a few hours before.
“But you like it, don’t you?”
“Of course. I’m not sure you’re going to be able to find a photographer willing to photograph a newborn on a bike though.”
“Well, maybe we can just hold him and have a couple pictures done that way.”
“That, I think, would be much better.”
“Still. I can’t wait to have a whole bunch of kids to ride with. Sons and daughters. I’ll teach them all how to ride.”
“Lord. How many kids do you need me to have for you? Everyone says this gets easier the more times you do it, but I don’t know. The first one was pretty damn painful.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that. I’ve never watched someone in so much pain. You came through it. You did it, no drugs. Nothing. It was all you. You are a goddess, Shanna. A warrior. I always thought I was tough, or the guys I knew were tough. Now I know what real toughness is.”
“A goddess, hmm? I like that. I like that a lot.”
“You’ll always be my goddess.” Percy leaned over the bed and kissed her lips, slow, lingering, tender.
“Trying to start that gang of biker kids already, kissing me like that? You know you have to wait, like, two months to try that, don’t you?”
Percy ran a hand through her hair, smoothing back the frizzy tendrils which had been soaked in sweat only a few hours ago. “I know,” he said tenderly. “But I can kiss you all I want, can’t I? There aren’t any rules against that are there?”
“No,” Shanna said softly. “No rules at all. You can kiss me anytime, Percy. Anytime you want.”
He stared down at her adoringly. She was adored. He made sure she always knew it. For a man who had once hated touch, been so closed off, so walled off, so shut off to her and the rest of the world, he’d made a remarkable change. She didn’t even know who that other man was. Her Percy, the Percy she loved and loved her… he was a giant. He was courageous and tender, loving and sweet. That darkness, that past, it still lingered, but he made the choice to be what he wanted to be, to be the person he promised her.
She loved him. She loved the hell out of him. It was true. He could kiss her anytime he wanted. Anytime at all.
The End
JACK
LONELY RIDER MC 2
Chapter 1
JACK
Maybe it was the ultimate irony that Jack Stevens never fit the bill of a classic bad guy. He never looked the part. His charming exterior, flashing blue eyes, expensive haircuts, chiseled facial features, bronzed skin, and costly suits screamed money, good taste and breeding. Even if people knew about his past, they wouldn’t have believed it. They wouldn’t have believed he was once homeless, the product of a broken home, escaping his alcoholic and abusive father, living on the streets with his mother until she eventually died from an overdose.
No, people wouldn’t believe he’d done half the shit he’d done. If anything, he looked like old money, perhaps even a trust fund kid. If people bothered to look, they’d find out that he’d gone to an Ivy League school, that he was born to Judy and Richard Stevens, an only child. That he’d grown up in New Jersey and gone to the best schools money had to offer.
Of course, that was bullshit. He’d paid
for that past, paid for it with stolen cars and bikes and occasionally with the blood of busted knuckles.
Long story short, he did what it took to survive. He didn’t look like a goon. He didn’t look like some scruffy homeless kid, or a former gang member. Some blonde, a nameless girl from his past, since he didn’t bother with getting to know people, once said he looked like he was in movies.
Jack Stevens was no good guy. So when he watched a tall, slim brunette stagger out of the massive banquet room of the hotel their company Christmas party was held at, he knew he should just let her go. He wasn’t the kind of guy who saved the world. He didn’t hold doors open for people or help old ladies cross the street. He was as ruthless in his safe, upper class, white collar lifestyle as he had been in the shadows of his past.
He would have let her go, the mystery woman, if he hadn’t seen her nearly topple over at the doorway. She swayed and tripped, even though it was obvious she was wearing flats. She slapped a hand over her mouth to cover a giggle, dug in her clutch and produced a set of keys. They flashed silver, catching the twinkling lights overhead. Even across the room, seated at a table alone, a half drunk cheap whiskey in front of him, Jack picked up on it.
He turned his face away from the doorway. The woman lingered there for a moment before she finally righted herself enough to move on. He hadn’t seen her before. Which meant that she was probably someone’s guest or date or a plus one.
She isn’t alone. She’ll be fine. Jack slammed back the rest of his whiskey. He set the glass down on the table with a bang, which was eaten up by the cheesy classic party style music currently blaring over an even cheaper pair of speakers. A few couples here and there and a group of mostly middle aged women from the accounting department, attempted to dance, but it was laughable at best. Laughable, as in it sure as hell wasn’t a funny kind of laugh.
He turned his head and his eyes strayed involuntarily back to the doorway where the brunette stood a minute ago. She wasn’t there any longer. He heaved a sigh, not sure why the hell he cared. Even from a distance, he could tell she wasn’t his type. He preferred blondes and definitely those on the bustier, curvier side of things. That was about as far as a type went. Lately, no one had been his type.
Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series Page 13
