The ride was obviously a ‘clearing of the mind’ ride. We must’ve ridden for an hour or longer, and though it started off feeling heavy, I can honestly say that by the time we stopped at a dead end, I realized it was probably cathartic for me, too. Something about the open road was just, I don’t know, helpful.

Lick was an only child…he wanted the family you get when you’re in an MC.

I’d been thinking about how I’d spent so much time at Ella’s because I wanted to be in a big family. And Ella was an only child until a few years ago; her baby brother was born when we were in high school. So, Ella’s family was the same size as mine. But, it never felt lonely over there. There were always people in and out, always big meals. Always lots of laughter. They invited people without family for Sunday dinners, for family game nights, for Christmas dinner.

If Paul and Karen Murdoch had more than just me, would my house have felt any different than it did? I doubted it.

I always told myself I’d eventually, when I found the right guy, have a big brood, lots of kids so that my kids wouldn’t ever be lonely. Once my parents were gone, it’d be just me. I didn’t have cousins. My mom had a sister, but she didn’t have kids. My dad was an only child. I wanted a big family, so I’d need to make one.

We stopped by a guard rail and I could see that beyond it was a little bit of a clearing. A trail.

He turned the bike off and I got off. He got off.

“Can you do this in those shoes?” he asked, taking the helmet from me and setting it on the seat. “I need to go somewhere that, somewhere…” He didn’t finish. I couldn’t read his face behind his dark glasses, but I didn’t need to. His mouth was in a tight line.

I nodded. I shouldn’t have; my feet had already been killing me.

Ten minutes of walking along behind him on a worn-in trail, I could take no more. I took the shoes off and was walking in stockings. The ground was cold.

He was just ahead of me. He looked over his shoulder.

“Shoes are a bit small for me,” I said, noticeably limping.

“Shit,” he said. “Hop up.” He crouched and crooked his arms.

“Naw…”

“Hop. Up.” he insisted.

So, I did. And Rider piggybacked me.

“Shouldn’t have said you were okay in those, Jenna.”

He was right. Though I didn’t know how long we’d be walking or what the terrain would be like.

“You need this,” I whispered.

He didn’t respond verbally, but his body halted for a second and he was just standing there with me on his back. It was loaded silence. I was wondering how long he was gonna stand there when he started moving forward again.

After a long while, we were in a clearing with a view that was staggering. We were on top of a hill, looking down into a beautiful valley. We were by a fire pit dugout and there were trees and not-very-well-made wooden benches surrounding it.  It looked like a place that had seen loads of bush parties.

I saw empty beer bottles, a broken glass pipe, and some condom wrappers. Yep. That’s exactly where we were. But, the view of the valley below was incredible.

He put me down on the grass, took off his biker jacket and put it on the bench and gestured for me to sit.

“I would’ve expected a biker would never give up his leather for some girl to sit on,” I mused.

He smiled and took his sunglasses off. “Depends on who the girl is. She’s his, he’ll give her anything.”

My heart stopped. I looked away.

He sat and patted the jacket beside him, spreading it out so that I wouldn’t sit on the pocket, which I could see had stuff in it.

My heart managed to start up again. I sat down.

I stared out ahead. Leaves were beginning to turn. In a few weeks, this view would be breathtaking.

“He did your tattoos for you?” I broke the silence after a while. After a long while.  But, it wasn’t awkward silence. I could tell that Rider was here because of his friendship with Luke. This place had meaning to that friendship.

“Yeah. All of ‘em.”

“You were close,” I stated.

“We used to party here. We used to hang here when we had to get away. Spent a lotta time up here. Felt like a good place to go after… that. His ashes should be scattered from up here. I’m gonna ask his parents if we can have some of them.”

He reached for the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out two airplane bottles of Jack Daniels.

He passed me one.

I looked at it and then looked at him. He opened his and held it up in a silent toast to the sky.

I quickly opened mine and raised it.

He downed his. I downed mine, first fighting to breathe against, and then relishing, the burn.

I felt more than a bit bad. I hadn’t factored the dead friend into my thoughts the last few days. He’d been carrying that, along with everything else, around the past few days. But, he hadn’t let on. I thought about how Jojo said Rider let stuff roll off his back.

But, despite that, I could see he was affected right now.

“He was talented with the tattoos,” I said.

“He did time for me.”

“Oh?”

“Fucked up. I was eighteen. We were doing a stupid b and e. Just bein’ assholes to this bar owner who pissed us off, ‘cuz he wouldn’t serve us. Shit was whacked. We just wanted to steal a couple bottles. But, we tripped the silent alarm and the security guard who showed got hurt. Shouldn’t have gone so bad. I fucked up. We took off on foot, but he got caught. Never ratted me out even though I was just as guilty as him. They offered him a deal. He was sixteen almost seventeen. They tried him as an adult. They woulda given him a lower sentence. He wouldn’t rat.”

I winced.

“My Dad and Rudy said they wouldn’t let him in the club when he got out. They said he was too much of a liability. He’d wanted it. He fuckin’ needed it. I fessed up about my involvement in that b&e. Dad gave me a kick in the ass and schooled me on not being a stupid ass. Then, when Lick got out, they greeted him with a prospect cut. Most prospects do it a year, two max if they’re gettin’ in. He did it for three before they gave him his patch. He had to finish probation, prove himself. Fuck, but he wanted that patch. Just glad he got it before he died.”

We sat in silence a minute.

“Wish I knew what the fuck he was thinkin’ about my sister, though,” he said.

“He treated her like she was precious. He never... They never... She’s still a… virgin.” My face got hot.

He blew out a breath, his posture loosening.

“I could get kicked out of the sisterhood if you say I said that. So… keep that under your hat.”

He let out another breath, and stared straight ahead.

“He must’ve held back because he cared about her. Cared about all of you,” I added. “You did really well with the eulogy.”

Rider looked at me and then his hand came up and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“You look beautiful today,” he said.

My lips parted. He was giving me some intensity with his eyes.

“You’re showin’ me what you’re made of, too,” he said.

My eyebrows furrowed.

“Pissed at me, but not bein’ a bitch. Bein’ cool to my sister, my family.  Not contradicting me around the brothers. Bein’ there for me up at that…that fuckin’ coffin. Tryin’ to keep up and walk through the bush in nylons when your feet are sore because I needed it. Tryin’ to get me to talk about him up here, ‘cuz you think it’ll help me to let some of it out. Dad’s always told us you can tell a lot about a woman by how she deals in the middle of a shit storm.”

My face reddened. I was surprised that he’d paid such close attention. I shrugged, staring at my hands, which were fiddling with the empty airplane bottle. “Just because things are screwy with you and me, I shouldn’t take it out on her. I wouldn’t. Or anyone else. Anyone can see you’re all in pain over what’s happening.”

“Okay. So, when you gonna stop punishing me?” he asked.

My eyes moved up to meet his and they were more than serious. But they were also warm.

“Punishing you?”

“If you’re this good to me when you’re pissed at me, I can only guess how things’d be if you and me were solid. You know I want you. You know I want us. You’re holdin’ me back as hard as you can.”

“Of course I am.”

“Why?”

“I’m protecting myself,” I said in a rare moment of transparency.

“From what?”

“From…” I swallowed.  “This isn’t the time to get into this. You’re emotional. You’ve lost a good friend. Another good friend’s girlfriend got killed. People are after you. Your family business and clubhouse burnt down. I should be the last of your concerns.”

“But yet you’re not. You’re not.” His eyes pierced mine. “You’re first.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Yes, you do. For fuck sakes, Jenna.” He glared at me.

I shrank back and closed my eyes.

“I’m just a distraction for you,” I said.

He started at me, incredulously. And then he shook his head. “No. You’re not.”

He grabbed my hand and held it to his thigh, moving his lips to right by my ear. “I want us. Can’t even tell you how fuckin’ good I feel seein’ my name on your back. Havin’ you by my side. I want what I see you’re capable of giving. I take back what I said about you being selfish. You’re not. I was wrong. I’ve seen behind the wall the past few days. A few of us have. What I’ve seen while you’re holding back, can’t wait to see what I’ll get when I get that wall down.”

I chewed on my cheek, thinking, that’s never gonna happen. But, almost wishing that it could happen.

“Except the ‘in bed’ part. You’re selfish there. But I can work with you. Teach you.”

I glared at him.

He smirked.

I rolled my eyes.

He was mourning his friend. It wouldn’t be nice to do this now.

But, it also wouldn’t be fair to either of us to not do it. I needed to put a stop to the madness. It hurt too much, this game he was playing. As much as I was trying to fend him off, I was failing. And I couldn’t put my heart on the line for a guy who acted like this was a game, a joke. He might not be acting like that now, but that’s how he’d been all along.

“You’re allergic to commitment, I’ve heard,” I said.

“That’s what they say.”

“But?”

“But, I wouldn’t say I was allergic to it. Just never met anyone I wanted to try it with. Never liked the drama and bullshit. The takin’ and no givin’ back. Saw it all around me. My parents. My brothers. Buddies. Club members. Drama…fuck…”

“Well, I’m all about the drama.” I folded my arms across my chest. “So…” I was about to say I was a bad pick, but he cut me off.

“Don’t give a fuck. You make me wanna give it a try.”

I stared at him.

He stared at me.

“This is a heavy day,” I said finally. “Not the time to think about this stuff.”

“Having you with me through this has helped. Helps me see that there’s a lot to a relationship. A lot both people can get out of it.”

“Besides shitty sex and monotonous monogamy?” I mumbled.

“Hey. I was an asshole. I’m sorry about that. We were fighting. I fight dirty. And I’ll say again, I didn’t have all the facts.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You fight dirty, too, baby. You’ve slapped me, punched me, tried to bash my brains in with a Maglite, wished me dead… should I go on?”

“Exactly. And you act like it’s all a joke,” I muttered.

“Having you up there when I had to see that coffin, know it was him inside. Broken. So fuckin’ broken it had to be kept shut? Havin’ you helped. Smellin’ your hair, feeling you reach for me? To give me what you knew I needed? Fuck.”

There went that burning feeling in my chest again. But, this was an even deeper burn than I’d had so far. Because the idea of having someone for me, for when I needed them to lean on? That would be huge. But, I didn’t know that I’d ever let myself show that I needed that. To anyone.

I was Jenna Murdoch --- good time girl. I’d have anyone’s back, if they needed me, but I rarely showed the need for that. Other than Ella, and I was sure even Ella would describe me as strong, independent, and not needing anyone or anything, unless it was a partner in crime to have fun with.

But the way he’d had my back a few times so far? What would that be like to have all the time?

“How’s that for a joke? I ain’t playing. Not gonna be like the rest and give up on you,” he stated.

I had to ignore that. I had to ignore that because it felt like my eyes were filled with broken glass all of a sudden. And if I blinked, it’d be all over. I’d be fully exposed. He heard me say that last night. Why the heck did I say that out loud?

We sat in silence for a minute as I did the best I could to beat the emotion back. And then he was using his phone texting or something, then said, “We should get back to the club.”

He got to his feet and took the bottles from the bench and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. He grabbed my shoes and passed them to me. I squeezed my sore feet into them, then stood and lifted his leather jacket from the bench and passed it to him. He shrugged it on and then leaned over, motioning for me to hop back onto his back.

I did, feeling something pretty powerful inside of me the walk back to the bike.

***

I loved the feeling of riding on the back of his motorcycle. Something about it was so soothing. And I shouldn’t be on the back of his bike because of how deeply I loved it. It wasn’t just the mode of transportation. It was him and me on that bike. Together. Like we were a unit. A Rider and Jenna unit. But all the way back to the clubhouse, I reveled in it. I let myself feel it. I let myself muse with What If. What if this was real? What if I was really his? And what if I didn’t have to guard myself?

He had my back with my mother. He helped sort things out for the salon while I was away as well as Kendra’s wedding. He was dealing with all my abuse toward him in order to make sure no one raped and killed me.

How would riding his bike with him feel if I had let go of my fears? How amazing would it be to be with him, carefree?

Far too soon, we were back at the clubhouse gates and I noticed the yellow tape was gone, as we went in that way. Two prospects, one that I’d seen back in Aberdeen, but couldn’t recall where, maybe Deke’s Roadhouse, opened them for us.

When Rider turned the bike off, the other guy stepped up and shook his hand in what looked like a complicated bro-shake.

“Great job on it,” he said.

“It’s sick!” Another few bikers approached. “Swear to God you’d never know it wasn’t from sixty years ago. Dress your babe like a pin-up, buddy. Do a photo shoot and you’ll sell a shitload of these.”

I got off of it, looking at the bike, seeing what the fuss was about. I’d thought it was a great bike, figured he’d maybe had a classic, or restored it himself. I didn’t know it was a custom-made new bike. He’d told me he did custom bikes. This was one of them? He was talented.

“Thanks, man,” Rider said somewhat solemnly and moved me forward. “My babe’s gotta get outta these heels. They’re hurtin’ her feet. See you guys in a few.”

He moved me forward toward the building.

I was really looking forward to getting out of these shoes. But, all I had with me were the Converse I’d had on my feet when I got kidnapped from Ella’s room. Would it be frowned upon if I changed clothes? Maybe I could just hang out in the room and skip this luncheon.

“Blow,” he said to a guy inside the door and they hugged with back slaps.

 “Just got here. Ran late. This her?” The guy asked. He was a tall, muscled fair-haired guy in his mid to upper 30s with piercing grey eyes. He reached for me and lifted me up off the ground, making me gasp as he hugged me.

He gently set me back on my feet.

“Yeah,” Rider said, and I glanced over my shoulder and saw Rider had a little smile on his face.

“You Aberdeen girls are legendary!” the guy said. “Chaining unchainable Valentines? They’re droppin’ like flies. First Deacon, then Ride? Spency!” he hollered.

Spencer made his way over from a crowd of bikers who were sitting at picnic tables smoking and talking, drinking beers, over to us.

“You hitch your wagon to an Aberdeen star yet?”

Spencer snickered, taking a haul off his cigarette. “Not yet. Gonna up my game, though. All the good ones’re getting snatched up fast.”

“Jenna. Blow, also known as Sean O’Grady. He’ll be our VP at home…" Rider started the introduction.

“If he ever gets his ass in gear,” Deke added, and approached Blow and they did the biker hug back slap and bro-shake thing.

“See you guys in a minute. Jenna needs more comfortable shoes.”

“Eh…” Deke said and approached Rider. He hooked a hand behind Rider’s neck and kissed his forehead.

“Love you,” Deke said to Rider.

“Love you,” Rider replied, gruffly.

I choked up. Audibly. Shit. I had to hold it together.

Deke put his arm around me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and then squeezed my free hand.

I gave him a bit of a watery smile, almost losing it. What an emotional day. It was taking everything in me to hold tears in. I wanted a hot bubble bath, a bath bomb with sparkles, and to sit  and cry it out.

I had no idea when that’d happen.

“I set you up, honey,” The lady, Delia, I’d met the day before, the mouth-kissing one, said, moving past the doorway, which was propped open. She had a steaming lasagna tray in her hands, just a towel around it; she wasn’t wearing oven mitts. Eek. “Another pair of shoes on your bed.”

“Oh. Thank you,” I said. How did she know?

“Go take time to rest those feet and then come give us a hand in the kitchen,” she informed me and moved along.

I saw that long tables were set up with all sorts of food and many funeral garb-wearing biker women were coming in and out, bringing more food.

Rider led us through the throng of people, most of which gave him a wide berth or just a chin lift. His exit from the funeral home would’ve spoken volumes and it was heartwarming that they seemed to respect that and were giving him space.

As soon as we were down a few hallways and no one was around, I said, “Wait.” We stopped, and I used his arm for stability as I got Jojo’s shoes off. My poor, poor feet.

“Texted Delia to find you something for your feet.”

“That’s how she knew. Thank you,” I said softly.

Wow. He was showing himself to be pretty thoughtful. I’d been hoping to use my sore feet as a reason to stay in the room and avoid human interaction, but I guess I’d have to make an appearance.

At least I’d been summoned to the kitchen, so I’d get some distance from him. From him and all he was making me feel. I didn’t know how much more sweetness I could take before I just threw myself into his arms and surrendered. No, not just surrendering --- declaring myself his love slave.

Inside our room, I saw a pair of new black thong flip flops on the end of the unmade bed, tags still on them. They were thick, like memory foam, the part that went between the toes was velvety, and I was sure they would feel wonderful.

He pulled his glasses off and grabbed a bottle of vodka sitting on the chair at the side of the unmade bed and took a swig and then flopped back.

I guess he’d gotten that after I vacated last night.

I saw that my stuff, or rather the stuff Jojo had lent me, was back in here. That made me want to fume a bit, but my angry resolve was fading.

I went into the bathroom and pulled the now-ruined stockings off, checked my make-up, used the facilities, and then I came back out and was trying to separate the flip flops, which were held together with one of those plastic loops. It was proving difficult and I didn’t want to break them. I heard a click and saw he was holding out a big knife, that he’d switched open.

I lifted the shoes over the exposed blade and brought them down and it cut through the plastic loop like butter.

“Thanks,” I muttered and separated them. He closed the switchblade and dropped it onto an opened black gym bag on the floor.

I put the flip flops on, glad that my pedicure from Saturday night pedicures with Pippa and Bronto was still fairly intact and that I wasn’t rocking Frodo feet or anything.

“Come here,” he said.

I looked at him.

He was lying there, on his back. He opened up his arms.

I stared.

“Please?” he asked.

I sat on the side of the bed instead of climbing on top of him, like I wanted to do.

“I wanna talk about this,” he stated, eyes serious.

“This?” I asked stupidly. Wanting, wishing I could touch his smooth face, which he’d shaved for the funeral. It looked so good.

“Us.”

I blinked. “Who was the blonde?”

He gave his head a shake, annoyed with me.

“At the funeral home. The one you left me with Deacon to cart off,” I clarified.

“I knew what you meant.”

“And why did you---”

“Are you interested in being with me?” he cut me off.

“That’s not answering my question.”

“If you’re with me, you can ask me questions like that. If you’re not, then it’s none of your business.”

“If something about you is none of my business, then I’m none of your business and therefore you have no reason to keep me here,” I fired back.

“You’re playin’ it that way?” he challenged. “Like you’re fine goin’ out there and putting yourself at risk knowing there was a direct threat against you? Mantis, Jackals’ Prez himself, called me personally to tell me just what they wanted to do to you.  And I told you what they did to Edge’s woman, so you know he’s not blowin’ smoke.”

I was being unreasonable; I knew I was. I was stubborn, though, and was feebly trying to hold my ground.  My ground that wasn’t solid ground, it was quicksand.

He must’ve seen it in my eyes and come to a decision. “Gianna, Kailey’s stepsister. She wasn’t welcome at the funeral now that I know she’s got family ties to the woman responsible for all this. I let her know that and got her out of there before she got in there.”

“Jojo says she’s a great girl. Loves your club.” I was fuming because I was also thinking about the fact that Jojo told me the lovely Gia had been with all three of her brothers at least once each.

He shrugged. “That may be true, but until all this shit is sorted, I’m not takin’ chances. Won’t be putting Joelle or you at risk. There’s shit goin’ down all around us. Moles in Aberdeen, even. The only good thing about the Roadhouse being closed right now is that it’s forcin’ us to keep to ourselves, rather than being under microscopes out in public. My dad’s not even thinkin’ about re-opening until things die down with this feud. Now, about us…”

“Did you build that motorcycle?” I asked.

He smirked. “Jenna.”

I swallowed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, gorgeous.”

“I thought it was a classic. Something vintage. I don’t know anything about bikes, but it’s beautiful. You must be talented.”

“Thanks, babe. Me and Spence. Not just my design.”

“I’d better go help your Aunt Delia.”

He watched me for a beat. “You okay to go help in the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling relieved, thinking I was getting away with not having an ‘Us’ talk.

“So, to give you the lay of the land, things’re not 21st century feminist-friendly around here. Especially right now. The women like to baby us at times like these. It gives them something to do when they feel powerless about loss. But, if Aunt Delia’s invited you to help, it means she likes you. She shoos off bitches if she doesn’t like them. She’s like a second mother to us. No, like a first mother. She’s done more for us than Shelly ever has other than giving birth. Delia wants you in there with the women, it’s an honor for her to invite you.”

I nodded, feeling a little warm at the idea of being accepted so readily.

“There’ll be food and people shootin’ the breeze. And then kids’ll disappear and it’ll go full-on wake.”

“Okay.”

“It’ll get rowdy. It always does.”

“Okay.”

“You’ve been introduced as mine. No one should try anything with you. To be safe, you stick close to me until you’ve had enough and then I’ll walk you back here. If I think things’re too rowdy, I may decide to bring you back here earlier.”

I tilted my head curiously. “You might decide to bring me back here.”

“Yeah.”

“Before I’m ready to be brought back here,” I confirmed.

“Right. Gonna need you to trust my judgement on that. It’ll be a good time. We feel that loss through the funeral and then we celebrate his life. Have the kinda party he’d wanna be at. That’s how we roll. It gets rowdy, you call it a night.”  

I shook my head. “Me.”

He looked at me like I was dim, so I clarified.

“Me, but not necessarily you?”

His lips twitched a little bit, but he didn’t reply.

“All right Captain Caveman, we’ll see.”

“Not, we’ll see. I tell you it’s time for bed, I don’t want lip about it.” And now he looked like he was messing with me.

I glared. “Well. I guess I’d better not give you lip then.”

He looked at me with amusement. “Your eyes are huge right now. And angry. And your body language tells me you’ll be givin’ me lip.”

“Good you can read my body language this soon in our acquaintance.”

“Jenna. I fuckin’ get hard at your lip. And your lips. And your hips.” He reached over and put his hand to my hip.

I backed away. “Whatever. Show me to the kitchen so I can go be useful.”

I headed toward the door. He grabbed me and spun me around.

“You reflect on me here today. You been doin’ good so far.”

I laughed. “I ran away from you in the middle of the night drunk in my underwear. And your Dad saw me. How on Earth is that ‘doin’ good so far’?”

“That was last night. Today is today. Things’re different during a funeral. And different still at the after-party. This next few hours are important.”

“I wouldn’t reflect on you if you hadn’t incorrectly identified me as your woman.”

“It’s what you are,” he said.

I shook my head. “No. That’s you being delusional.”

“How do I change your mind?” he asked.

I scoffed.

“Be serious here for a minute.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like you are? Like you ever are? It’s all just a big joke to you.”

He took my face into both hands and got close. Super close. “I’m serious.”

And I couldn’t challenge that, because he looked serious.

“How? How do I change your mind?” he asked.

“This isn’t the time for this.”

Oh God, I’m gonna cave; I know I am. And I want to. I want to so badly. But, is that smart?

“Baby, it is the time. You’re helping me through this and gotta say, it’ll help me a whole lot more to know you and me are starting from here as a you and me.”

“This is emotional blackmail, Rider Valentine,” I breathed.

“Is it working?” he asked, his thumbs caressing my cheeks.

It was. It totally was.

He moved even closer.

“So, you good about what I’ve said about out there?” he asked.

I shrugged, sinking into his eyes.

“Tonight, it’s anything goes. Just want you prepared,” he said softly.

“Nothing could’ve prepared me for the whirlwind that has been my life since meeting you, Rider.”

He smiled and took one more step forward, backing me against the door. Still holding my face, he softly said, “Yeah, but stick with me, gorgeous, and you’ll get the reward. The winds’ll change and life’ll be a joyride instead.”

My lips parted and between his words and the look in his eyes, I was moved.

“Gimme a chance, baby,” he said leaning in. “I gave you your first ride and you loved it. You climb back on and hold on tight and I’ll rock your world every fuckin’ day. Give you that future you saw that first ride.”

I blinked at him. My body was covered in goosebumps.

He moved in for a kiss. He hesitated a half an inch from my mouth, giving me a chance to want it.

And damn, but I wanted it.

I licked my lips and then he moved in and his lips touched mine softly, sweetly. And I opened up and kissed him back.

His hands moved back, into my hair, and the kiss turned hungry.

My fingers dove into his hair. I pulled the elastic out and had handfuls of it.

His face, still smooth from that morning’s shave? It felt amazing.

His hands went to my hips and he pulled me into his crotch. I let out a little whimper at the contact. And then my dress was sliding up and his hands were on my thighs, moving to my ass. “We gotta get out there. I want to bury myself in you for days, hear all about our future in that sweet voice, but we gotta get out there, so this is gonna be fast,” he said this against my mouth.

“Fast,” I agreed, and then he was fiddling with his jeans and pulling my underwear to the side and then he was filling me.

I gasped.

His eyes burned a hole in me. A beautiful hole.

He hefted me up by the thighs, so my legs were wrapped around him.

“Need you, gorgeous. “

“Okay.”

“Want you to be mine.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he asked, rotating his hips.

I gulped and nodded.

He slammed harder and his eyes went hard with this look of…what? Possessiveness.

He turned us around and moved us toward the bed. We went down, mouths connected, pelvises connected.

He went fast and hard and I did nothing but lie there. I was kind of in shock.

What was I doing? Okay? I said okay?

He moved hard and fast, and I knew he was holding back, waiting for me, because when I hit the climax, he hit it a millisecond later, coming inside me, groaning into my mouth, letting out a little moan that was super sexy-sounding.

“Baby…” he breathed.

I blinked.

I swallowed.

I blinked again.

I just agreed to be his girlfriend. While having sex. Against the door. During a funeral.

Oh my God... I was cock fogged like Ella. What was it about these bikers?

He kissed me again and I didn’t finish my thought, because I melted into the kiss. He pulled back a few inches and his eyes searched mine. That was when I got scared. I grabbed him by the shirt and couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer.

I had to catch my breath. I needed air. Or him. Or maybe he was air.

“What’s the matter?” he whispered.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, breathless.

“You can,” he whispered. “I’ll help.”

“I---” I was feeling panic rise. I needed air. This room felt so small and closed in. “But, you’ve never done it.”

My heart was racing.

“Never felt like it was right before. But with you, it’s like I was built for it.”

I was gasping, panicking. I tried to get away from him.

He tightened his grip on me.

“Baby, don’t. Don’t do that. Just breathe.”

“I’m freaking out.”

I was. I was freaking right out.

He got off me and sat on the side of the bed and then pulled my panties the right way and fixed my dress as he pulled me onto his lap. His belt was still undone.

He put his arms around me.

“You’re shakin’. Hey. It’s okay.”

I tried to breathe, but I was having a full-on panic attack.

“Put your ear to my chest,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Do it.”

I did.

“Hear that?”

“What?” I felt his warmth seeping through his black dress shirt. I closed my eyes.

“Focus.”

I tried. I heard his heart beating.

“Hear that?”

“Your heart?” I asked.

“Yeah, just listen.”

“Rider, I…”

“Shhh. Listen.” He cradled my head against his chest and I did what he’d asked.  I listened to the steady tempo of his heartbeat. I absorbed the feeling of him holding me, comforting me.

I did that for a few minutes.  And my pulse was slowing down.

“Solid, steady,” he said. “It’s there, just doin’ its thing. Thumping away. Right?”

I nodded.

“That’s what you gotta do. Take one breath. Then another. I’m steady, baby. Solid.  I want this. I want us. Just hold onto me. Like you do when you’re on the back of my bike and I’ll get us there.”

“But so much… in such a short amount of time, Rider. And drama. I---”

“Shhh. Listen.” He kissed the top of my head and kept playing with my hair.

I listened. I closed my eyes. He slowly reclined until he was lying flat on the bed and my ear was still to his chest.

He ran his hand through my hair.

“Life can be short, babe. I’m’ learning that. Life can be hard.  Life can be sweet, too, if you open yourself up to possibilities. Never wanted a club girl for more than a little fun. You’re not a club girl.”

“No. I’m definitely not.” I whispered.

“You’re different. You’re gorgeous. You’re high fuckin’ maintenance. But, shit, you’re gorgeous. Your apartment is the shit. You work hard, and you care about that. You give a shit about people. People gettin’ their dream wedding day. Old lonely grandmothers who you give fuckin’ coupons to. Doin’ old lady hairdos at the retirement home for free.”

How did he know I went to the retirement home and gave free hairdos? Bronto.

“Your parents might be snobs, I don’t fuckin’ know, haven’t met them yet but your ma was a piece of work on the phone. I know that you work hard. You’re not looking for your folks to give you a hand-out. You’re willing to work for it. And you’re generous. I also know that what I see from you so far, you constantly fuckin’ surprise me. I’m sorry. I was wrong about you. And I’m fuckin’ glad I’ve had a chance to realize that before you wound up with a banker or a lawyer or some shit who gives you what your mother wants but not what you need or deserve. I am lookin’ forward to a whole lot more of seeing what you’re hidin’ from me.”

“I am high maintenance,” I said. “I have expectations. And expensive bedding that’s just for show. And I can be demanding.”

“That’s all right. I’m game. And I can be demanding, too.”

“Right. Sex.” I muttered.

He chuckled.

“And you think I’m bad at it.”

“Naw, baby. You’re lazy at it. You took those orgasms like you were entitled to them and then you were done. You were fuckin’ like a guy.”

I gasped and lifted my head off his chest.

“But, fuck. I see potential. You’re a canvas I can work with.” My face burned with embarrassment at him using the words I’d used the night before. “Few tweaks, I’ll get you there. And you’ll love every minute of it.” He put his hand on my ear and pushed my head back to his chest.

I listened to his heartbeat some more, trying not to feel mortified.

“We should get out there,” I said.

“In a minute,” he replied. “Wanna hold my woman for another minute.”

I was melting.

“Night before last night, you cuddled up to me when I rolled away.”

I lifted my head again to look him in the face.

“That was nice,” he said. “Never slept with a girl all night unless it was just a mess of drunken bodies passed out. No cuddling or any of that shit. Fuckin’ loved it those few nights with you. My head was fucked when I rolled away. You rolled in and it helped. Last night…without you… it sucked.”

I made a face.

“Though you made me really fuckin’ hard watchin’ you struggling down the hall with that suitcase, your ass in those little fuckin’ pink panties. And seein’ my name on your back while me and half a dozen other guys watched that sweet ass? That helped. If it weren’t for my name on your back, I would not have been down for that. Would’ve paddled your ass until it was pink like your panties. That says something, too, because I don’t usually get possessive. And knowin’ you were keeping my sister company when she was gonna have a night of crying herself to sleep? I figured I could sacrifice and sleep alone, so she could have that. Let Jojo borrow you for the night. I needed you, but she needed you more.”

I was not gonna cry. I was not gonna cry.

“But just sayin’, don’t leave me at night like that again. You sleep beside me or I’ll find you and bring you back to my bed. I need you tonight.”

Shit, if he didn’t stop, I was gonna effing cry.

His voice had gone husky and that threat had turned me on, for some reason.

He slapped my butt. “We should get out there.”

I sat up.

“You good about this?” he asked.

“This?” I asked.

“You and me.”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure…um, no. I’m probably not good about this.”

He leaned forward and kissed my lips. “What do I gotta do for you to be good about this?”

I shrugged. “I’m just…skeptical.”

“Stick with me and I’ll bust my ass to make that uncertainty evaporate. Okay?”

And those green-blue eyes were like endless pools. “Okay,” I whispered, “But… I don’t trust easy. I have these walls and it might take…” I let out a breath. “I’m high maintenance and you might get sick of that. And it might take more than a little bit for them to come down. And you’ll probably give up before you get through it.”

“I got a pick axe. I’ll pick away. Watch and see. I’m more stubborn than you. And you’re stubborn, gorgeous…”

I was trembling.

“You want this,” he stated.

I stared at him with big eyes.

“You want this, or you wouldn’t care so much. And baby, that means a fuckuva lot.”

I put my forehead to his chest. He put his arms around me.

“Open up. Give me you. I won’t make you sorry,” he said.

He kissed the top of my head.

And I just wanted to get lost in him all over again. I was afraid to speak, to breathe. The promise of him that I felt after that first night was nothing compared to the reality of him. I couldn’t kid myself that this would be easy. But, I had a feeling right then that it might be worth however difficult it’d be to get there with him.

God, but what if I was wrong?

His phone made a noise and he reached into his pocket.

“We headin’ out?” he asked.

I nodded. “Need the little girls room first,” I said. I went into the bathroom and got cleaned up and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I had the look of a woman who’d just gotten fucked fast and hard. And I had the look of someone who was petrified. And I was. I wasn’t sure I wanted to roll with this. I also wasn’t sure I was capable of doing anything but rolling with this. I took off the undies I had on and stepped back into the bedroom and he went into the bathroom. I put a fresh pair on and then he was coming out of the bathroom with a smile. He took my hand and took me toward the door.

“Wait. I just wanna make the bed.”

“Huh?”

“I hate leaving the bed unmade.” I went back to the bed and motioned for him to come help. He did, but he was looking at me weird.

“It’s not nice to get into an unmade bed when you’re tired. Or drunk. And if we’re partying later…” I shrugged.

“I agree that stopping festivities to deal with bed shit is not fun.”

I fought a smile, feeling my face go pink, because of the disaster of my duvet that first night.

He chuckled and helped me tidy the bed and then we left the room and headed to the kitchen, finding Delia, with two other women.