Page 62 of Biker's Enemy

“You stole my virginity,” she says, trembling and getting me so damn hard. But she doesn’t show any fear, even if she must feel it.

I’m close enough to touch her again, despite her scrambling to the other side of the bed. I set one knee on it. Then another. Cornering Quin against the headboard where she lacks the coordination to escape. I keep searching her face for honesty, fighting the urge to grope her even more.

“I think you are scared,” I whisper. “Or you would have confronted me a long time ago. You knew it was me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Who the fuck else could it have been, Quin. This place has ironclad security.”

Her lower lip trembles. Maybe a part of her wanted to deny the truth. But she had to have known it was me. She must have smelled me. Felt the way my beard scraped her flesh. Heard my goddamn voice. I refuse to let her get away with this. But the more I stare at her, the more she trembles. Tears well in her eyes and I smile.

There it is. The truth. Just because she doesn’t like the truth, doesn’t make it any different.

“We’re all a little fucked up, Quin. You don’t have to cry about it.”

My dick gets hard as that first tear falls. She might act like she doesn’t give a fuck about me most of the time but this single tear is proof that she cares. I wipe it away with my thumb as her lower lip trembles. Yes… the truth hurts, doesn’t it?

“I’m not fucked up,” she says, her voice sounding tighter and more tense than usual. It’s not just her crying.

“Are you sure?”

“How dare you…” she whispers. “You have no idea what I went through. What he did to me…”

Okay.

Now… I don’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. But I have my suspicions. I know that a dark secret brought Quin to her best friend Juliette. I pretended to know exactly what she was talking about. Maybe it’s this.

“I don’t,” I whisper. “You’re right. All I know is… we all have dark shit inside us, Quin… Even a beautiful girl like you.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispers. “I really didn’t…”

Then she turns into a woman I don’t recognize. Someone vulnerable. Quin wraps her arms around me and then she just bursts into tears against my shoulders. What the fuck?

Did I do this?

I wrap my arms around her, grateful to have her close. But I have no idea what to do with a crying woman…

Thirty-One

QUIN

Idon’t know what comes over me. The urge to cling to Tanner Hollingsworth overwhelms me and nothing feels more important than wrapping my arms around him and being close to him. Despite his harshness, his cruelty, and his arrogant refusal to admit he loves Avery… he understands me.

On some deep, depraved level, he understands my darkness. I don’t have to be afraid of anything with him. It feels safe enough to cry about the fact that I murdered my step-brother. That for the rest of my life, I’ll have this nagging thought that I could go to prison. After this much time… who the hell is going to believe it’s self-defense?

His arms are so strong and muscular. He squeezes me tighter, making me feel like I don’t have to let go.

I don’t even notice that I stop crying.

“There,” he whispers, although Tanner didn’t exactly do anything. “That’s exactly what you need… Let it all out.”

I sigh. “That doesn’t make it go away though.”

“I’ll make it go away,” he whispers. “I don’t know what could reduce a strong woman like you to tears but… I will protect you, Quin. I promise.”

“You’re a…”

A freak? A monster? My boss? I can’t define anything about Tanner that doesn’t exist in the present moment. I can see his face. How fucking handsome he is. He even looks like he cares about me. But… how can he make this go away…

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