Her Older Biker - Page 11

I don’t like it.

“Is Emma upstairs?” I ask. But even before I finish voicing the question, a pit forms in my stomach. I already know the answer.

Mom shakes her head and tosses the rag into a bucket under the counter.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” I say flatly.

“Couple of the sweet butts were hassling her,” Mom says, crossing her arms. “I told her not to listen, but she’s young and hurt. She took her tips and left thirty minutes ago.”

Sweet butts? I want to fuckingthrowsomething when I hear that. “I haven’t slept with a sweet butt in years,” I grind out.

Mom rolls her eyes and pushes her hot pink hair back. “Warden, did you explain anything about how club life works to Emma?”

I huff out a hard breath and shake my head. “Not yet, no. It hadn’t come up.”

She throws her arms up in the air. “Well, it’s no wonder that they scared her off. Emma’s a smart person, but she’s not psychic.She doesn’t know how any of this works. And you didn’t bother to guide her through it. You claimed her in front of everybody, but I don’t know if she gets how much that really means.”

I curse vividly under my breath. “I’m an idiot.”

Mom leans forward on the bar and balances her chin on a fist. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“What do you think?” I pivot on my boot heel and head for the door. “I’m gonna go get my girl.”

My bike, a meticulously maintained Harley low rider, gleams in the flashing lights from the bar, and it’s still warm between my legs when I climb on. I strap my helmet on and flick the visor down and with a hard kick, the bike roars back to life. Gravel showers behind me as I speed out of the parking lot, and I don’t hesitate when I choose which direction to go. I turn left. East—the road out of Fairview, where my girl would have gone if she were really trying to leave.

I tear down the road, scanning the horizon for her beat-up little car, and I don’t even have to wait very long. I find her ten miles out of town, car pulled over to the shoulder with hazards blinking. Steam billows out from under the hood.

I swerve off to the side just behind her parked car and jump off my bike, then jog to the driver’s side door. I don’t tap gently on the glass or wait for her to notice me—I fling it open and bend down to smash my mouth to hers in a hot, possessive kiss.

She goes rigid with surprise, but then her mouth softens against mine, and she reaches up to rest a hand on the broad plane of my chest. Her nails scratch at the flesh underneath my cut and t-shirt, and I’m positive that my heart beats a little harder as her palm rests directly on top of it.

“Get on the bike,” I order her after I break the kiss. I’m breathing hard, and my cock pushes hard against my zipper as arousal wars with relief. “Take what you need from the car and lock it. Prospect will get it in the morning. You’re coming home with me.”

But she doesn’t move, not even to unbuckle her seat belt. Instead she stares at me, sadness and surprise blending in her bright hazel eyes.

“Don’t you have some sweet butts to get to?” she says bitterly. “One of them mentioned a heart-shaped birthmark on your ass.”

“I have a birthmark on my ass, but that ass belongs to you now,” I say hotly. “Get on. The fucking. Bike. You can’t stayhere, anyway.”

She opens her mouth like she’s about to sass me again, but closes it, glaring at me as she pulls a bag out of the backseat and steps out of the car, locking it behind her. I gather her up in my arms and carry her to my bike, setting her gently down to stuff her things in a saddlebag and lift her again to settle her on the seat, then gently push my spare helmet over her head.

“Arms around my waist,” I order her as I settle on the bike, and swallow a groan when she scoots closer to me and presses those soft tits against my back. I reach down and smooth a hand up the outside of her leg. My cock is about ready to punch through my zipper at the feel of her body against mine.

“I’ve never let a sweet butt ride with me,” I say hoarsely as I grab my helmet and slide it on. “You’re the first woman on this bike. And the last.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her arms tighten around my waist. Behind my visor, I smile, and kick the bike back to life.

It doesn’t take long to get back to the bar, where the party is in full swing. Loud music plays and laughter rings out into the quiet dark. We skid to a stop and I help her off the bike, catching her when her shaky legs almost give out. When she pulls her helmet off, her face is flushed with pleasure and her eyes sparkle, and I can tell that whatever magic I feel when I climb onto my bike—she feels it too.

“Did you like your first ride?” I ask as I gather her close and drop a kiss on her forehead.

“Is it like that every time?” she asks.

I shake my head. “It’s always amazing, but it’s never been likethatfor me with anyone but you. And it never will be.”

She looks away, considering her words carefully. “What are we doing, Warden?”

With a single thick finger, I turn her face back toward me. “Baby, this is it. You’remine. No sweet butts, no other women. You.”