Chapter Thirteen

Layla

I always thought you are as weak as you let yourself be and you are as strong as the front you put up, and if my real Dad taught me anything, it was to never ever let someone get close. So right now, as Tyson asked me to ask him a question, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

He had proven to me what type of person he was. And it wasn’t the type of person I wanted in my life.

I didn’t want someone that didn’t trust me, someone that listened to rumors and then took their anger out on me or ignored me.

Dad, or Rex, as I called him, my birth father, told me one thing, and it was the only advice I ever listened to. Still to this day I don’t really listen to anyone because of that advice.

His advice was to judge a person’s actions, not their image.

It was his advice that let me trust Cyrus. Even though his image was rough, criminal, biker. But his actions showed love, passion, loyalty and dedication.

Tyson’s actions didn’t speak very well for him. Namely his action of cutting me off like I was a dead body part. Ignoring me. Treating me like shit.

He wanted me to forget that and trust him? All because he thought I had got it on with one of his brothers? So what if I had? I wasn’t his. I wasn’t his girlfriend and my actions were my own.

“Come on, Layla, I’m trying here.” He crossed his arms, looking like he was in pain by putting himself out there. Well, now he knew how I felt when I put myself on the line to talk to him only to be shut down.

He was trying. But his actions had already told me what he was really like. He was jealous. He judged before he asked a question. And he thought of me as property. I didn’t care that he was covered in tattoos that I could see. I didn’t care that he rode for the most dangerous motorcycle club in the country. I didn’t judge him by the image he showed the world. I judged actions.

And I never gave anyone a second chance once I’d seen their actions. So right now, he was asking a lot of me.

He was asking me to go against my better judgment. He was asking me to go against what I’ve always lived by. He wanted me to go against my real dad’s advice.

Could I just once—once only—give someone a second try? Acknowledge his actions but give him a second shot to give me new actions to judge?

Opening himself up to me—that was an action. That showed he was really trying.

I sighed. “Okay.” If I regretted this, I swear I’d never speak to him again.

He grinned. “What’s your question?”

His dad was nearly as terrifying as my real dad. So I did have a question. But I didn’t feel right to ask him. It was best to keep it light.

“Why don’t you have a biker name?” That was light, right? I don’t know. I didn’t do the whole ‘get to know someone’ thing. I didn’t do friends. Having one friend was rare for me. Hannah was my one friend. I still don’t know how we managed to get so close.

“Can’t really live up to the Reaper, so why bother?” he shrugged.

“Well, I’ve been referring to you as Satan. I think you live up to being his son very well.”

He shook his head, looking angry at himself. “Satan. I really made an impression,” he muttered, sounding disappointed but angry at the same time.

I arched my eyebrows. Yep. He sure had.

He sighed and looked me in the eye. “Business question, how much take from each front?”

“Depends on the front. We averaged twenty grand last week. But our drug shipment is due. So it will go up once we get paid.”

“You really know the details, don’t you?”

I tilted my head, staring up at him. “That’s why I’m here and not my dad.”

“Your dad is nearly as terrifying as mine.”

No. He was wrong. My real dad even sent a shiver down Reaper’s spine. Cyrus was upstanding when compared to Rex. But I nodded my head.

“Okay, personal question, shoot.” He uncrossed his arms and took my hand. “We’re relocating. Dad’s study gives me the creeps.”

“Why?”

“Is that your question?”

I followed behind him, hating the fact that I liked him holding my hand. “Yep, sure. It can be.”

“Well, when I was little I used to be called in there to be told off.”

“I can only imagine you as a child. You would be a terror.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Sure, you weren’t.”

“Well, I bet you were clumsy.” He looked back at me. “And misplaced a lot of shit.”

My mouth fell open. “How the hell would you know that?”

“You walk so careful it’s almost as if you are scared of falling. Like you have face planted more than a few times. And you are forever walking up to class missing something.”

So he might have been ignoring me but he was still monitoring me. “I hate being watched.” It was a fact.

The corner of his lips twitched up. “Pity everyone is watching you, then.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked as we walked into a very expensive and well-decorated lounge room.

I pulled my hand from his. We were here now. I didn’t need to be guided. I could have followed him to begin with. I didn’t need him to hold my hand. But why had I liked it so much? He was everything I swore not to fall for.

“Everyone at school is watching you.” He lit up a cigarette, sitting down in the middle of the couch. “Well, all the males are.”

I frowned for a second, not understanding, and then remembered what he’d said. He thought people were watching me.

“I would have noticed.” I looked at the spot next to him. How rude would it be if I sat in one of the recliners?

“Have you noticed how Jed always leaves his science book behind?” He tilted his head, looking up at me.

“So?”

“So, he always has to share yours. He always has to brush his leg against you and last science class he insisted on tying your hair back when you had gloves on.”

“So, he’s nice? I don’t get how that automatically puts him down as watching me.” I looked at the couch one more time. Maybe I’d just stand.

Tyson grinned. “Does he look like a nice guy?”

An image of Jed ran through my head. His shaved head, pierced tongue and lip. He was always wearing black and greys. We had made some small conversation and his life seemed to revolve around parties and alcohol.

But I didn’t judge people by their image. I judged them by their actions. Jed was always friendly, and made an effort to catch me up in class when I wasn’t paying attention. Sometimes I think he only paid attention to tell me the details.

Whenever we did experiments, he knew I didn’t do blood and gore and so he’d take over. He was nice.

Sure, maybe his image screamed bad boy and to stay away from him, but to me, he was nice.

“I like him.” I crossed my arms. “He isn’t moody or selfish. He always makes an effort with me. And when he tied my hair back, I was thankful.” I stared back at Tyson. And that was all I was sharing with him.

“Okay, if he is a nice guy, then what to call Ethan?”

“A flirt.” One I could handle and have been handling. “And really good in gym.”

“Yeah, you two are always paired up together. Your doing or his?” He sounded way too interested in the answer.

“His.”

He arched his eyebrows like that proved something. “You’ve got nearly every male following you around school.” He pointed his cigarette at me. “You are worse than my sisters.”

“Hannah and Eve are stunning. And I don’t have males following me.”

“You can’t even go have a smoke in peace. Suddenly half the male population at school is smoking.” He gestured his cigarette at me, which I took.

“Do you do anything else at school, apart from watch me?” I exhaled a mouthful of smoke. For some reason, smoking always calmed me. Maybe it was the inhaling and exhaling. I don’t know how but it did. I was feeling relaxed after one inhale on his cigarette.

“You’re more interesting. Like last Tuesday, when that teacher made a move on you, and you—well, we both know what you did.” He grinned.

“If you saw that, why didn’t you step in?! I thought I was alone!”

“I was about to when you punched him and broke his nose.”

Mr. Haywood was a worthless worm. Who makes a move on a student? I narrowed my eyes at Tyson. “So why were you there?”

Mr. Haywood had asked to speak to me alone in his office. He had left the door open, which must have been how Tyson saw what happened. What an idiot of a teacher he was. If you are going to make a stupid move on a student, at least close the door.

“I heard him ask you. I know what he’s like. Made a move on Eve. Dad gave him a few broken ribs for it. Then got him kicked out for two years. This is his first year back.”

I handed him back the cigarette. “Well, you didn’t need to look out for me. I’m more than capable.”

“Clearly. I know two guys you’ve punched up now.”

“Cameron got my left hook. So he doesn’t count.”

“Because your right can break bones?”

“Exactly.” I found myself smiling and my eyes glanced at the spot he was leaving open for me. I could just sit in a recliner or I could keep standing. Either option was better than being close to him. “So, business question?” I brought us back to the topic and off the topic of me.

He inhaled on the cigarette, his piercing blue eyes on me. I watched him exhale slowly.

“You going to sit down, Layla?”

So, he had noticed my lack of moving. I rocked on my feet. Chicken out and take the recliner or make a stand of not sitting because I won’t be here much longer?

“I don’t bite.” He butted the cigarette out and a smirk appeared on his lips. “Unless you want me to.”

“Don’t flirt with me, Wilson. You’ve made your impression.” And he had made the impression that put him in the category of men I would never go near. I shouldn’t be scared to sit next to him.

“I’m working on making a new one.” He kept staring at me. “Come sit down, Layla.” Was he really going to insist I sit? Yep. I moved toward the recliner. “Next to me,” he added.

So much for the chicken way out. I huffed. It was like he knew he would be tempting me if I sat next to him.

Fine. Just do it.

I walked toward him and sat on what I would say was the most expensive couch ever.

I made sure my bare leg didn’t brush his, but my dress worked its way up as I sat down. And he noticed. I was quick to pull it down. Whose idea was it to wear a skin-tight dress? Oh right. Mine. Fucking idiot.

Well, I hadn’t planned on sitting on a couch.

I expected to be standing or sitting in an armchair. Not sitting next to the devil himself. Whose eyes were running up my legs.

“Why are you always in heels?” he asked, after his eyes had run down my full body. He could at least pretend to have masked his eyes checking me out. But he didn’t even sound ashamed about it.

“That’s a personal question on me. And we aren’t getting to know me.” I wanted to ride that fact home to him. “Next business question.”

He studied me for a bit longer. I felt like his eyes could see through me. Like he could see I was putting up a front and being next to him was so bloody tempting I was nearly forgetting about my rule of judge the actions not the image.

“Unless you don’t have one. In that case, I’m leaving.” I went to get up, but his hand fell on my bare leg.

“Are you recruiting?” he asked a business question. Well, it wasn’t really my business, though. I didn’t know if I should tell him the truth or not.

“I don’t think I should answer that,” I finally decided. That was Cyrus’s place.

“Trying to outman the mother charter of another club?”

I frowned. “Like Cyrus would ever go up against the mother charter of you lot.”

“Your dad loves money and power, two things setting up another mother charter here would give him.”

“So you think his grand plan is to set up a charter that could wipe yours out? What, set up a deadly dozen mother charter here?”

“It makes sense.”

Ridiculous! “That’s it, I’m leaving!” I would not sit here and hear rubbish. Cyrus didn’t want to take them out. Cyrus sure as fuck didn’t want to be a mother charter president. He liked being under the umbrella. Not in charge of the umbrella.

“Layla!”

I was up and going.

“Dad was thinking it, too!” he said to my back.

“Well, I didn’t pick Reaper as stupid but I already knew you were.” God, this house was like a maze. I just followed the hallway.

“I’m guessing by your reaction the answer to the question is a no.” Tyson pushed past me and then blocked my path. “Calm down, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Well, that’s exactly what you did, Tyson. Insult me. My family. My club. Because the last thing Cyrus wants is a war over bloody money and territory.” I shook my head, feeling more furious than ever. “You know nothing about him, if you think that is the type of man he is.”

“We all know his reputation. Your dad has made a name for himself.”

“Says the man whose father is the Reaper!”

“So we agree our fathers are as ruthless as each other?”

“If you really knew my father, you wouldn’t be standing in my way right now.” I gritted out. Rex was my real father. He was the one with the reputation. My real father would shoot Tyson just for looking at me. So Tyson standing in my way would have got a bullet. Cyrus, however, was more reasonable and only shot when someone touched me.

I wasn’t proud of my father. I refused to visit him in prison. I stopped seeing him when I was ten. The same time Cyrus came into my life and showed me what a real dad was like.

My real dad, the man’s blood that ran through my veins, well, he killed for fun. It was a sport to him. He barely needed a reason. He worked for whoever paid the most. You could be the target one second but increase what he was getting paid and become the client the next.

He didn’t do loyalty. His main clients were bikers and other criminals. He worked for them because his clients didn’t want their name getting around or they just couldn’t handle the blood. And if there was one thing my real dad was good at, it was taking blood.

Rex and Reaper were as feared as each other. The only difference between them was Rex was currently in a forced retirement involving prison bars, while Reaper ruled a mother charter. And his son made my life impossible.

“Move, Tyson.”

“We haven’t finished talking business.”

“If you want to know about recruiting, then talk to Cyrus. I do the books. I make sure people get paid and the money that goes back to the club is clean. That’s it.”

Tyson sighed, looking as frustrated as I felt. “Look at my chest.” Tyson uncrossed his arms.

My eyes dropped to his vest, he had a lot of patches considering he would have only been a member for three years. He never wore the vest at school. The only other night I had seen it was at that party. I looked closer. There was one patch under his mother charter patch: sergeant at arms. He was their enforcer.

“I was just doing my job, Layla. That’s it.”

So I was correct when I thought he lived up to his father. To be an enforcer you have to get your hands bloody. I took my eyes off the patch and looked him in the eye.

He was so much bigger than me. Stronger. Scarier. These things should have intimidated me. But for some reason, I wasn’t. I wasn’t intimidated. If anything, I felt safe. Which was the only reason I wasn’t pushing past him and leaving.

He was doing his job, which meant he wasn’t being with me because he wanted to. Good. That meant whatever spark we had between us was dead.

“I think I should go. In order for you to do your job. You should be directing those questions at Cyrus. Not me.” That was a level-headed decision. “I’m all numbers. That’s it. If you think you have a threat, take it up with Cyrus.”

“Why did you call him Cyrus and not Dad?”

I didn’t even realize I had done it. Maybe because Rex had been floating in my head tonight. I swallowed. I was not telling him Cyrus was not my real father. “Just to make it clear who we are talking about. Now move, Tyson.” I stepped to the side, which he matched.

“You think our business is over?” He made that sound like the disappointment of his night.

“Yep.”

“Good. You hungry?”

I stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. “Are you bipolar?” Because that would explain his mood toward me.

“If I was, would that make you stay?” He had the nerve to grin at me. He was back to being carefree. Like he didn’t have one worry on his mind. He wasn’t acting like the sergeant at arms now. He was acting like he wanted to spend time with me without being forced to.

Us having tea together wouldn’t fall in the category of work.

“Nope.”

“What can I say to get you to stay?”

“Nothing.”

“I really pissed you off, didn’t I?”

I was glaring at his feet. Yeah he had. It was almost like his life’s mission was to put me in a foul mood.

“Come on. Can’t I coax you with some type of meal?”

I dragged my eyes off his feet and looked him in the eye. “Name one reason why I would stay here willingly.”

I was only here because I had to be. Now that was done, so was my visit.

I was expecting him to realize he was facing a no-win situation. There wasn’t a reason for me to stay. He couldn’t use the ‘as friends’ line because we were not friends. He couldn’t use the ‘for business’ line either because we had finished that. So there was no reason to stay.

It looked like he was coming up with that conclusion, too. I went to step around him. But again, he met my step with a more determined look on his face. I didn’t understand his expression. Suddenly his hands landed on my hips.

Oh my God, he was touching me.

Just don’t touch him back.

He dipped his head. He wasn’t going to do what I thought he was going to do, was he? Just as I thought it, his lips were on mine.

Fuck, he did it.

I kept my lips clamped and stiff. I was not kissing him back. I was not encouraging this.

“Come on darling, kiss me back,” he murmured against my lips, his voice dipping into begging. I didn’t kiss him back and then he bit my bottom lip, forcing my lips to part and he took advantage of it.

His hands went to my hips. As much as I didn’t want to, as much as I knew I shouldn’t, I found myself giving in and I was kissing him back. His tongue moved so perfectly in my mouth. He backed me toward a wall. My back hit the wall at the same time as he lifted me up.

“Legs around me, darling.”

I did as told. My legs were wrapping around him. Why was I doing this? His lips on mine sent waves of lust through me. How did he get me so hot with just one touch? He held me up with one hand, and the other pushed up my dress.

My brain screamed to stop him. My heart screamed to get him closer. And my body was screaming to let him strip me and take me in the hallway.

So which one did I listen to?

All three. I pushed him away and then wrapped my arms around his neck, forcing him to keep kissing me. His hand had pushed my dress around my waist.

Fabric was all that was standing in the way of us being skin on skin. I thought I had sworn off him and here I was letting him invade my mouth and his hands explore my body.

He began to walk us out of the hallway. I didn’t know where he was taking me. I was too high on the taste of him and the way his hand was moving up from my waist. I knew where he was heading and I wasn’t stopping him. I should stop him. But I wasn’t going to.

I liked sex. I loved the release. But I usually had sex with men older than me. Not a man the same age as me.

He was a biker so I guess he wasn’t far off my usual type.

I pulled my lips from his just as he walked us up the stairs. “Tyson, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Sex with no strings was what I normally did. But I had seen how he reacted if I was with someone else. Tyson did strings.

“I think’s a perfect idea.” He kissed along my jaw. “You’ve had me hard since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Sex can complicate things.”

“Good.”

“Tyson.” I pulled away from him completely. His ‘good’ made it sound like he wanted things to become complicated between us. “I think now is the time to tell you I don’t do relationships. I do sex. But no strings.”

“I do sex with no strings as well.” He kept walking us, stopping at a door. “But with you I want strings.”

My mouth fell open. “Did you not hear me when I said I don’t do relationships?”

He smirked. “I’m normally the one saying that.” He reached out, cupping my face. “You are perfect, Layla.”

My breath got caught in my throat at that. No one had ever looked at me like the way he was looking at me. Immediately, I panicked.

“I think I should go.” I went to get out of his grasp and off him but he just held me in place.

“I’m not letting you go.”

“I can’t have sex with you.” I had made my decision. It was not the right time. If we had sex then he might look at it as something more than just that. “Not when you are looking at it as something more than sex.”

His expression dropped. I knew immediately he was looking at having sex with me as something more than just that. I could get sex from anywhere. I didn’t need strings. I didn’t need complications and I didn’t need him acting like a boyfriend.

“Sorry, Tyson.” I felt bad—no, terrible. He wanted more and I was the one holding back. He broke my trust. And he was looking at me like I was special or something. Like I was a rare diamond, and now that he’d discovered me, he wasn’t letting me go. “Maybe we should try and be friends?” I suggested.

Even though the image he’d showed me had proven to me he wasn’t really friend material, he was, however, boyfriend material. But I didn’t do relationships. I saw what relationships did. They complicated shit.

And Tyson seemed like a jealous and protective person. Two qualities I normally love. But I lived around other bikers. They did touch me. They joked with me. They were family. And if Tyson’s reaction was to cut me off for Cameron making a move on me, well, it showed he couldn’t cope with my lifestyle.

“You have sleepovers with Hannah, right?” he finally asked, confusing me.

“Yeah, of course. Why?” Hannah basically lived at my house.

“Then stay the night. With me.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“Don’t want you to. But I do want you to get to know me better.” The corner of his lips twitched up, like he had a plan. “Maybe one day I can change your mind on the whole no sex thing.”

He wouldn’t have to do much to convince me to have sex with him. He just had to break down my one wall and I was his.

I nodded my head. “Okay.”

“Seriously?” He grinned like I had just made his night, no, his week by agreeing.

“Stop looking so happy.” I kissed his cheek. “And put me down.”

“No, I like holding you.” He twisted the doorknob to the bedroom and walked us in.

“So, is this where you drag all the girls to?” I grinned, knowing his reputation.

“Nope.”

I frowned. He was serious. What he did mean by that?

“Stop looking so stunned. Is it really hard to believe I haven’t had a female in here? Well, apart from Naughty and Nice.” He kissed my forehead.

Hannah and Eve had been in here and that was it? Seriously? Then it clicked. “You’ve got a dorm room, don’t you?”

A guilty expression captured his face. He didn’t have to say anything. I knew the answer and I laughed.

“You are such a stereotypical biker,” I said, forcing myself to stop laughing. “Lucky for you, I wasn’t expecting anything different.”

“Would a stereotypical biker have a sleepover with a woman he isn’t planning on fucking?” He arched his eyebrows and he had me there.

My expression softened. “No.”

He lowered me to the bed. “Do you want something to change into? I doubt sleeping in that dress would be comfortable.”

He had a point. His hands left me on the edge of the bed and I nodded my head.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, while walking into a wardrobe.

I had said I wasn’t going to let him get to know me. So him asking me a question could violate that rule. I sighed. One question wouldn’t kill me. Wasn’t like I was about to tell him my life secret, which was Rex.

“Sure,” I said, when he walked back in holding a t-shirt.

“Why do you always wear heels?”

He had asked that earlier. I sighed. I guess I wasn’t telling him anything that secretive. “I just always have.”

“Why?”

“Well, I started to wear them for pole. And I just got used to wearing them.”

He looked up, alarmed. “Pole? As in pole dancing?”

I nodded my head.

He swallowed sharply. “You pole dance?”

“My mum teaches it.” I didn’t understand why he was looking so startled. “I’ve done it nearly my whole life.”

His eyes were wide. “Does anyone, you know, um, see it?”

“I used to compete to help build my mum’s business. But that was back home.”

“Have you ever done it for a man?”

Why was he so interested? “It’s great for cardio and strength. I don’t do it for the sex appeal.” Did that answer his question? Nope. It would seem he wanted a yes or no answer. “No.”

He dropped the t-shirt on my lap. “And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any sexier.”

I smiled. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Would you give me a private show?” He stood in front of me, locking my legs between his. “Can I be the first man you show?”

“The only man I am pole dancing in front of is my boyfriend. So no.”

“Well, if my plan works, then that will be me.”

“Nice try, Tyson, but I’m not a club girl hoping you’ll acknowledge me.”

He scoffed. “I wouldn’t be wasting my time if I thought you were a club girl.” His hand cupped my face, my head tilting back to look up at him. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Layla. It hurts to look at you and not touch.”

I swallowed hard. What do you say back to that? He was cupping the side of my face like he was scared he would break me.

“I know you said no sex, but I can still kiss you, right?” He dipped his head, looking like he was seconds away from kissing me regardless of my answer.

My hands ran up his toned arms and I stood up, wrapping my arms around his neck and bringing his head down to mine, and this time I was the one to kiss him.

For a smart girl, I sure as fuck could be stupid. At first the kiss was gentle. But he wasn’t settling for gentle.

“You need to get out of this dress, right?” He pulled away from my lips.

I nodded my head. And his hand went to my zipper.

“Can I take it off?”

“We aren’t having sex, Tyson.” How many times was I going to have to stand firm on my decision?

“Didn’t ask if I could fuck you. I asked if I could take your dress off.”

I sighed. I didn’t realize there was a difference. “Okay, you can.”

“I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I saw you on the porch.” He slowly undid the zipper and started kissing down my neck, my neck arching as his lips moved down it.

The dress fell to the floor, leaving me standing in lingerie and heels. I stepped out of the dress and his eyes ran up and down me.

“Can I touch?” His hand was hovering over my stomach.

He was asking for permission? Most men wouldn’t have that self-control. No man has ever asked me if he could touch me. They just did it.

I slowly nodded my head.

His hands gripped my hips and he lifted me up, holding me to his chest, and then laying me down on his huge bed. My body sunk into the mattress. His hands slowly moved from my hips, but at the same time his lips started to kiss along my collarbone.

His right hand slowly moved down, over my ribcage, brushing over my hip and then gripping my upper thigh, which he lifted in the air and then wrapped around him, pulling me down the bed slightly and into him.

I was wearing a low-cut bra, so I wasn’t surprised when his lips started to move down, kissing the top half of my breast.

Then he locked his lips just where my bra started and sucked. I didn’t care that he was marking me. Maybe in the morning I would. But it wasn’t like anyone was going to see it.

He pulled back. “Is there anywhere I can’t touch you?”

I frowned. What did he mean by that? I knew the answer.

“No.” For some reason, and it was probably a stupid reason, I trusted him, which resulted in me laying there in my underwear while he explored my body.

I had never had a man take this much time with me. Usually sex was just that: sex. I’d never had a man worship my body like he was doing and he was doing just that, knowing I wasn’t going to have sex with him.

His right hand moved behind my legs and I realized what he meant by the ‘anywhere’ comment. Still, I didn’t stop him. He was doing it slowly, giving me enough time to stop him if I didn’t want it.

But I didn’t.

And that could possibly be the second stupid thing I’d done tonight. First being letting him take me out of my dress.

I had said no sex.

He wasn’t breaking the rule. But he was working a way around it.

He slid two fingers in me at the same time his lips silenced my mouth. He kept the slow pace while kissing me. My hands went in his hair and I kissed him back, feeling so relaxed. Sex always de-stressed me. And if this was a taste of what he was like, I knew he would be amazing in bed.

Maybe he’d be the best I’d ever had. But I was staying firm on my decision. No sex.

He pulled his lips from mine. “Darling, I’m picking up the speed and I don’t want you to fight me.” Then he did just that, he picked up the speed; his fingers moving so perfectly in and out of me.

I arched up into his body.

“That’s it, darling. Don’t fight it.”

His other hand pushed down my bra strap and I was so lost in the sensation of his fingers that I didn’t realize he was pushing my bra down.

“I always knew you would have more piercings.” He grinned at me like he had just discovered treasure. Then his mouth wrapped around my nipple and my piercing. Sucking.

My breathing was coming out sharper as he increased the speed again. I was clenching. I could feel it.

His mouth went off me and to my ear. “When you come I want to hear my name.”

I shook my head. “I don’t do that.”

“For me you will.” His thumb started to rub me. It was like he knew exactly how to touch me. Like I was his instrument and he had been playing me for years. “Layla, my name. You understand?”

I gripped his shoulders. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He kissed my forehead, pleased with me. “You ready?”

He had me so close. Then he somehow went up a speed. I locked my hands on his shoulders; he was lifting me off the bed, not stopping the speed. I knew he wasn’t going to stop till I came. My body started to tighten.

“Come on darling, you’re nearly there, I can feel you.” He kissed my cheek. He was right. So very right. It was like this wasn’t his first time with me. He could read my body that well.

I clenched and, just as he wanted, his name came off my lips. He slowly slowed his pace, riding me out. I was panting and clinging to him. He looked down at me, mesmerized. Then he kissed my forehead.

“That was exactly what I wanted,” he murmured. He pulled out of me. “I’m going to have a cold shower. You find us something to watch.” He dropped the remotes next to me and, just before he pulled away from me completely, he kissed my cheek. “Make sure it’s not a chick flick. I refuse to watch them.”

I unclamped my hands from him, my breathing coming out staggered. I heard a door close and I realized I had to pull myself together. I was lying on his bed, slightly panting. I wasn’t expecting that.

I clenched my eyes shut. Didn’t I tell myself I was sworn off him? And I turn around and let him do that? I sat up, taking my bra off and grabbing his t-shirt. I refused to be angry with myself because that was amazing, and after all the stress with Hannah, that had really given me a release.

So, as much as I wanted to yell at myself, I didn’t. Maybe that was going to be my downfall in the end.

***

Hannah

I was laying on one of his arms, and his other arm was wrapped around, pulling me firmly back to him. All night we’d slept like this after, well, the best experience of my life. He was so gentle with me, like I was a flower and he didn’t want one petal to fall.

I didn’t want to move, never having felt this safe and comfortable. He was amazing and so extremely gentle with me. My mind ran over the bath we’d had together, how he kissed and explored me. I let out a sigh because what had followed was the most beautiful way to lose your virginity.

It was almost like he knew what to do, and how to make it less painful for me. I rolled over in his arms, needing to see him. To my surprise, his eyes were open and a small smile was on his face. My hand went to his cheek.

“Here I was thinking I imagined last night,” I whispered, feeling like what happened last night was too good to be true—as if it wasn’t possible.

His lips were on my cheek within a second of me saying that.

“You know we are going to have to get our stories straight,” I said, as his lips moved down my neck.

“You and I. That’s all I care about.” He kept kissing down my neck and then stopped, his eyes locking with mine. “Or was that your way of telling me you aren’t interested?”

I knew this conversation was going to come. I knew it as soon as I’d agreed to have one night with him. But who was I kidding? I wanted more nights, more time—more quality time with him. I wanted to fall asleep next to him. I wanted to wake up next to him.

But the reality was that zero of those things could happen.

My hand went to his cheek. “You have a girlfriend, Brad. One you might be fighting with now, but you do have one.”

His eyes hardened a bit while locked with mine. “Is that your only question?”

I frowned. He couldn’t be serious. “How about the part where my dad will kill you if he finds out?”

“We’ll deal with Reaper when the time is right.”

My mouth fell open. “You aren’t serious right now? Telling Dad? Please tell me you are kidding!”

“I want you, Hannah, and if that means I have to take a few bullets to be able to hold you without everyone thinking I’m your friend, then I’ll take them.”

He was insane. Completely and utterly insane. I pushed him away from me and sat up. “You have no idea what you are suggesting.” I turned to look at him, rather furious at this point. “I told you all I wanted was one night. That was it, Brad. One night. No strings. Just because you…took my virginity, doesn’t mean you have to be with me.”

Okay, I thought I was furious till I saw his expression. He looked the most pissed off.

“So that’s all I was to you, one night?”

I shook my head and exhaled sharply. “No, Brad. I love you. Which part of that don’t you understand?” I threw the blankets back. I needed to get space from him. “I want you, okay? I want what we did last night to be repeated over and over.” I turned to look at him, tears welling in my eyes. “But the reality is I’m not good for you. I can’t give you what you need. I can’t give you a real relationship. We would have to sneak around, I would be asking you to lie to your best friend and then there is the case of your girlfriend!”

Why did I have to be the sensible one? Couldn’t he see all the flaws in what he was suggesting? This had to be a one night stand. This couldn’t be any more.

He slowly got up, “I don’t love Andrea. I love you. I told you that.” He walked slowly toward me. “As for lying, I don’t give a fuck, and really, we won’t be lying. You and I have always been close, so nothing will change.”

“So you want me to lie to everyone and accept the fact that you are willing to turn your back on your girlfriend of years because you really want me?”

“I love you, Hannah, and I’ll do anything to be in your life. But as much as I want you, if you only want to be friends, then I’ll somehow cope with that. But I need to know.” He stopped in front of me. “Do you love me back?”

Did I love him back? Of course I did! But I was thinking maybe I should lie. Maybe I should tell him I didn’t; which would put an end to his crazy talk. Leaving Andrea. Lying to Dad. Being with me.

But as I stared up into his eyes, I couldn’t lie. “You have no idea how much I love you.” I said the words that could possibly be my undoing. Let’s face it, I had just showed him my heart and at any minute he could stab it.

He placed his hands on my hips. “I’ll handle Andrea. We’ll play it smart.” He dipped his head, looking at me in the eyes. “But when you are ready, I’ll tell your dad.”

“You’ll be getting a bullet in the head for that.”

“Maybe.” His lips twitched up. “But I’ll die a happy man.”

I inhaled sharply and placed both my hands on his cheeks. “I love you, Brad, but you haven’t had much sleep, so I suggest, if you feel the same in a few days, then we will talk about it.”

I knew there was a large chance Andrea could talk him around. I knew there was a large chance he would change his mind. Lying to his best friend and president as well as club brothers wasn’t something someone decided on lightly.

“You know what I’m thankful for?” His hands went to my lower back, pushing me into him. “I’m thankful you have always let me touch you. For all the movie nights we have had together. Because now we can use them to our advantage.”

I giggled. “You really want this?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess if you are still thinking like this later, we can have one of our famous movie nights.” I placed my hands on his shoulders. “Though it might involve fewer clothes.”

“Fucking oath it will.” He lifted me up. “You busy tonight?”

“Um, I might be going to Layla’s. Not sure, why?”

“It’s Sunday.”

I groaned. “Dad’s or Mum’s?” Sunday was our family dinner. Every week we had it.

“Seeing as you’ve missed the last two, I’m not surprised you don’t know which one we are up to.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s your dad’s.” He lowered me to the bed. “Now, do you remember the rules?”

I frowned. “Rules?”

“Every club party, every family dinner, all the time—you are with me? Understand?”

I gulped. Right, those rules. Slowly, I nodded my head. And I felt like, by agreeing to them, I was automatically letting him down. I shouldn’t be making relationships, not when I was sick. Yet, here I was, agreeing to being his.

“So tonight, where will you be sitting?” he whispered in my ear while his hands ran up the inner of my thigh.

“Next to you.”

A smirk spread across his face. “You have always been a fast learner.”

Before I could say another word, his lips were on mine and I knew where this was heading and I couldn’t be any more excited for it.

Was there anything better than making love to the man you loved?