Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(33)
“Too bad.” She leaned against him, her cheek pressed against his chest. “I never f*cked on a bike before.”
He had no idea how he managed to start the engine after she switched back to the pillion seat, and when his bike roared to life and Arianne firmed her grip, he decided even a run through enemy fire would have been easier to endure. He shifted uncomfortably as they pulled out onto the road, self-adjustment out of the question. Served him right. Although when he contemplated the distance he would have to ride and then walk before he could hit a cold shower, the punishment seemed disproportionate to the crime.
As if sensing his discomfort, Arianne lowered her hands until they dangled below his belt. He glanced at his mirror, hoping for some telltale sign that would let him know if she was purposely torturing him or unaware of the situation, but she ducked her head behind his back, depriving him of even that small pleasure.
“C’mon, Jagger.” Her voice rose above the wind. “Stop puttering around like an old man. Let’s see what this baby’s got.”
Energized by her excitement, intoxicated by the feel of the bike between his thighs and the beautiful woman pressed against his back, the cool night air whistling through his hair, he flicked the throttle, and the bike leaped forward with a deep, throaty rumble that echoed into the night.
“Faster.” Her eyes glittered with an inner light, and he stared at the rear view mirror as she leaned to the side and gave him a wink.
Christ, he had it bad. He’d never realized what he was looking for in a woman until he met Arianne, but she pressed all his buttons. Beautiful, confident, challenging, independent, and with enough cheek to make him laugh. A woman who wasn’t afraid of who he was and wanted nothing from him. A woman who could tease him and walk away. A woman who shared his passions and understood the politics of biker culture and the tightrope he had to walk to maintain control of the club.
And yet their circumstances precluded any interaction beyond the immediate need to keep her safe. What had happened back there shouldn’t have happened. For so many reasons. He couldn’t endanger her life further by allowing her close to him. Nor could he put his club at risk. Not that it mattered, since she wasn’t planning to stick around.
Maybe that was a good thing after all.
EIGHT
Old ladies, house mamas, sweet butts, hood rats, and lays are allowed in the clubhouse only if escorted. No loose chicks.
Arianne chewed her lip as she contemplated the king-size bed in front of her.
After their intense encounter, she’d expected to be dragged up to the bedroom for some hot biker sex, but by the time they reached the new clubhouse, Jagger’s passion had cooled.
While Sinners partied around them, they’d spent an hour chatting about motorcycles in the clubhouse kitchen over warm beer and stale tacos as if they hadn’t almost just torn off each other’s clothes and had wild sex on his bike. And when the beer had run out, Jagger sent her upstairs with nothing more than? “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I’ll see you in the morning. The old love ’em and leave ’em routine, except she hadn’t had much lovin’ at all. She couldn’t decide whether he’d backed off because of her actions, something she’d said, or because he regretted what they’d done.
Which wasn’t a hell of a lot, as far as she was concerned. She’d been with other men. But none of them had fired her blood or made her heart pound. And she couldn’t imagine any of them hauling her onto a motorcycle and kissing her breathless. Jagger was a force of nature. Fierce. Unyielding. Utterly dominant. Her mouth watered at the thought of spending a night with him in bed.
The door opened behind her, and in that second she thought dreams could come true.
“Nowhere else to sleep.” Jagger banged the door shut behind him. “Got a full house tonight.”
Without waiting for her reply, Jagger stripped off his shirt, baring the broad, mouth-watering expanse of his chest, then climbed onto the bed. Arianne couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He was simply the most magnificent man she had ever seen. She tried not to notice the way the muscles of his chest rippled as he settled himself on the bedspread, or how his abs tightened into stark relief when he raked a hand through his damp hair, sending a trickle of water down his neck. He must have just had a shower. She fought back a fierce desire to lick the water droplets away and willed him to take his perfect body out the door.
“You comin’ to bed?” He lay back on the pillow, his arms folded behind his head, legs spread, taking up three quarters of the damn space. The quintessential alpha male.
“You mind telling me what’s going on? The whole hot-and-cold thing is—”
“Done.” He patted the bed beside him. “Shouldn’t have happened. Won’t happen again.”
Her heart squeezed in her chest. Well, that was for the best. She was leaving Conundrum and she was pretty damn sure Jagger wouldn’t be an easy one-night stand to forget.
“Fine.” She considered crashing on the couch downstairs, or even on the floor, but he wasn’t interested anymore, so why the hell not get a good night’s sleep? She walked toward the bed, tugging down the hem of the T-shirt she’d appropriated from the dresser drawer. “At least I know you’ll behave.”
“When have I ever misbehaved?”
“Oh, I don’t know. On the roadside? Possibly in those woods?”