Page 50 of Forbidden Access

They climbed back on the motorcycle, and he twisted the throttle, enjoying the sound of the engine roaring to life.

As they cruised down the deserted highway, Damian felt the steady thrum of the engine beneath him. It was almost comforting. Thorn’s arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, her warmth seeping through the leather of his jacket.

She leaned into him, shielding herself from the biting night wind, and he relished the closeness. For once, they weren’t sniping at each other’s heads or devouring each other; they were simply enjoying each other’s warmth.

The miles melted away under the tires as they navigated the quiet, empty roads. Eventually, they rolled into a forgotten little village tucked into the foothills of the Sierra de Puebla.

The place barely qualified as a town—more like a blink-and-you-miss-it crossroads, with a handful of houses huddled together and a lone gas station that looked like it hadn’t seen any real business in years. The pumps were old, their paint chipped and faded, relics from a time that had long since passed.

Damian cut the engine, his eyes gritty from the long ride. “We need gas. Got any cash?”

“Yeah,” she said, pulling a wad of pesos from her pocket. He filled up the motorcycle tank while she kept watch. When he was done, she walked toward the small, grimy building where a faint light flickered inside.

As she stepped through the door, Damian held his breath. Through the dusty window, he saw her approach the counter. By the looks of things, the interior appeared just as rundown as the outside.

Even from here, he could see a man slumped behind the counter, half-asleep, his attention fixed on a tiny TV. Thorn placed the cash on the counter, the exchange quick and silent. The man barely looked at her before handing over a crumpled receipt, no questions asked. Thorn had everything under control.

Damian exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as she stepped back outside. She tucked the receipt into her pocket as she walked toward him, then gave him a thumbs-up.

“Let’s move,” she said. “We’ve still got a way to go.”

They continued their journey, leaving the sleepy gas station behind and heading back out onto the open road. According to the map, they were about an hour from Mexico City, after which they’d need to make a hard turn into the mountains.

Damian knew it would take another two or three hours to reach their destination, a small place called Taxco. Doing the entire trip in one go, and on a motorcycle, was brutal, but it wasn’t like they had any better options. The Yamaha wasn’t built for speed, but Damian pushed it as hard as he could, the engine straining as they devoured the miles.

They skirted around Mexico City, avoiding the heavy traffic that was starting to build as the first light of dawn crept into the sky. They took every back road and side street they could find, navigating the city’s outskirts with a mix of instinct and Thorn’s directions. By the time they left the city behind, the sun was starting to rise, casting a warm, golden glow over the surrounding hills.

Once they were in the mountains, Damian pulled over, his eyes gritty and his arms aching from gripping the handlebars. They swapped places, and Thorn drove them the rest of the way.

He knew they were fleeing for their lives, but damned if her ass didn’t feel great sandwiched between his thighs. The roar of the engine and the soft bouncing over the mountainous roads left him with a cock harder than the granite hills around them.

Finally, they pulled off the road beside a sprawling farmhouse, surrounded by a wooden fence in desperate need of repair.

“Do your parents still come here?” he asked, masking his erection by studying the outside of the property.

“No,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual. “They both passed away several years back. First my mother, then my father shortly after. They had me later in life, so they were already quite a bit older.”

Damian felt the weight of her words. “Sorry to hear that.”

Her face clouded over, a brief flicker of pain in her eyes. “Thanks.”

She pushed open the weathered wooden gate, and they stepped onto the grounds. The house sprawled out before them, once a charming farmhouse but now showing signs of neglect.

“La Loma Viva used to be an old coffee plantation,” Thorn explained, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “We did some work on the house after my parents died, but I haven’t been back for a while.”

He could tell. The front of the property still bore the marks of the renovation—two wide sliding doors that opened onto a cobblestone terrace, offering a breathtaking view of the hills and the sea glittering in the distance. But the upkeep had slipped; weeds poked through the paving stones, and the paint on the doors had started to peel. It was clear that the house had once been cared for, but then left to fend for itself.

“We?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Me and my late husband.”

CHAPTER 21

Thorn stood in the middle of the living room, letting her eyes take in everything around her. The house was filled with memories—things she and Jaden had picked out together, things they’d used during their stays here. His presence was so strong, it was almost like he was right there with her.

She shivered, despite the warmth of the day. Coming back here was always going to be tough, but she hadn’t expected the emotional hit to be this hard.

She could still see him, clear as day—sitting on the couch with a cold beer, tinkering with the boiler when the hot water wouldn’t work, laying those paving stones on the terrace outside.

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