Page 17 of Guarded By a Broody Biker

My throat is tight as I swallow, then set the candle down with a dull thump. It’s not where it’s supposed to go, and now the whole table looks messy, but I can’t think straight. Can’t focus beyond the ringing in my ears.

This is where I should be brave. Axel saw off my stalker; I should be able to confess my feelings to him. Right?

But I’m so, so tired of summoning my courage. Not just in this, but ineverything.Is life really supposed to be such a battle all the time? Because I’m exhausted, worn so thin, and I’m only in my twenties. When I think about the decades of loneliness and toil ahead, I could lay down and weep.

“Okay,” Axel says, and his deep, rumbly voice is so soothing. “Okay, princess.” He’s rubbing at my hip, drawing me closer so I’m pressed against his side, soaking up his warmth like a sad little sponge. “Why don’t I go first?”

My nod is wobbly. Axel makes a low noise, then tugs me all the way down into his lap, wrapping me up in his arms.

“Well, first off, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen with those big, brandy-colored eyes.”

A bristly mouth kisses my neck, and all at once, I turn to a puddle of goo. The tension bleeds from my muscles, and I’m sprawled on my bodyguard’s lap, panting with relief, because he’skissingme again. Thank god.

“When you came out of the bathroom in that clingy little top and those booty shorts, I nearly had a heart attack. Never popped a boner so fast in my life.”

I laugh weakly, tilting my head so Axel can drag his mouth along my jaw.

“Second, you’re a fighter. You’ve set up this stall all alone, you’ve provided for yourself and been your own boss, and when Peter the prick—” Axel spits his name like it tastes bad “—caused problems for you, you came up with the solution. That’s a survivor right there. You know how much I respect that, Jem?”

He squeezes me closer and I gasp, squirming in his lap. Thank god there are no customers at this end of the market yet, or we’d be putting on a real show.

“Y-yes,” I say.

“Good.” A scarred hand slips under my sweater, splaying over my bare ribs, and this new hold is so possessive that mybelly twists. “Then you know I’m not playing around when I tell you this: youneverhave to pay for my protection again. You never have to worry about whether you can afford to have someone at your back. Okay? Because I’m there, I’m yours, and whether you want something romantic from me or not—”

Laughing giddily, I spin around on Axel’s lap and kiss him square on the mouth. Of course I want something romantic. I want this man in my bed, my world, mylife.

A groan reverberates out of Axel’s chest, tingling into my palms. And he’s kissing me back, hot and whiskery; he’s gripping my hips and grinding me down against his bulge. The sights and sounds and smells of the market fade away, and there’s only the two of us, moaning into each other’s lips, desperate to get closer. Grinding on each other and making a scene.

When we finally break apart, we’re both flushed, breathing hard.

“A day off,” Axel grinds out, urging me up off his lap. “We’re both taking a day off. Come on, let’s close down your stall.”

“Okay, but—”

“I’ll buy every fucking candle on that table if you let me take you home,” Axel says, and he sounds so pained that I burst out laughing. That’s not what I was arguing about, but it’s fun to play along, hemming and hawing as we pack up and pull the metal grate back over Melted Hearts.

“Jem.” Axel catches my hand once we’re standing in front of the closed stall, both still pink-cheeked from all those kisses. “You never have to worry about going hungry again. You know that, right?”

I press my lips together, fighting a smile, and god, I’m so happy I could float up off the ground. Not because of what Axel’s offering me—though I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a huge relief to be on a team for once, rather than a solo player—but because he’s talking about the future. Long term.

“Just now,” I say, “I wasn’t gonna argue about closing down the stall. I was just thinking…”

Axel waits patiently, rearranging our hands so his fingers are knitted with mine.

“I was thinking maybe we could go to your place instead. If it’s nearby.” My heart knocks against my ribs, but I do it, I take the leap of faith and trust that my bodyguard will catch me. “Only, you’ve seen my bed. That thing wouldn’t last the day.”

Axel barks out a laugh, rough and pleased.

“Yeah,” he says, tugging me along the rows of stalls toward the market doorway. “Yeah, we’ll go to mine. And if you like it, princess, you never have to leave.”

Eight

Axel

I’ve never brought a woman back to my place before, and my gut’s writhing with nerves as we pull into the underground parking lot. What if Jem hates it? Or what if she sees a dirty coffee mug on the kitchen counter and the wilted herbs on the shelf and writes me off as a hopeless case?

She jumps off the bike behind me and practically floats to the elevator, so damn excited to see where I live. There’s no way reality can live up to the expectations. Right? No way she won’t be at least a tiny bit disappointed, so doubts clang around my skull as I walk after her.

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