Page 18 of Guarded By a Broody Biker

But as Jem tugs me into the elevator then leaps into my arms for a long kiss, those worries melt away. So what if she hates it? I’ll move somewhere else. Somewhere better. We’ll do it up any way she likes.

Listen: this woman is in my arms, nibbling on my bottom lip like there’s no tomorrow, and there’snothingI won’t do to keep her there. Moving apartment? No problem.

But when the elevator dings and spills us out onto the top floor, Jem’s delighted gasp says I’ve been fretting over nothing. We stride along the corridor to my door, hands clasped and swinging between us, and as we go, I try to see the whole place through fresh eyes; to see whatshesees.

Bare brick walls, and industrial style light fittings, with a dark green carpet and abstract art on the walls. It smells like varnished wood and citrus. Outside the windows, the city marina is swaddled in clouds and flecked with rain, but even on a moody day like today, it’s not a poor sight.

Hey. This place ain’t half bad. And when I slide the key into the lock and push my door open, Jem’s “Oh,wow” is a balm to my soul.

No, it’s nothing especially fancy. Yes, it’s a little rough around the edges, just like me. But this apartment is clean and spacious and filled with natural light and potted plants, and the view over the water is pretty. There are big, squashy sofas that can bear both our weight, and an open plan kitchen with an island and shiny appliances. I can cook for Jem here; lay her out on a sofa and lick between her legs until she cries; draw her a hot bubble bath in the tub. Treat her the way she deserves.

“Will it do?” I ask, and Jem bursts out laughing, jogging through the rooms with her scarf trailing behind her. I smother a grin as I lock the door behind us, shutting the world outside.

Forget that tiny apartment she’s been living in. Forget her empty refrigerator, and all those hours she must have spent waiting for the bus in the rain. Jem ismygirl now, and she doesn’t have to spend another single second worrying about that shit.

I’ll take care of her. It’d be a goddamn honor.

“Axel?” Jem calls from the bedroom. At the sound of her husky voice, the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “Will you come here for a second?”

My heart drums in my ears, and I yank the zipper down on my bike jacket and hang it on the hook before kicking off my boots. I follow Jem slowly, drawing in a deep breath, trying to savor this moment before I reach the bedroom.

When I reach the doorway, she’s buck-ass nude on the bed, kneeling up and grinning at me with mischief in her eyes. Her clothes are strewn across my bedroom floor, like she tossed them away without a care.

“Just making myself at home,” Jem says, and I can’t form words. Can’t do anything except grunt, ripping off my t-shirt then yanking at my leathers and shoving them down my thighs. My movements are clumsier than they’ve been in years, but that’s the effect she has on me. My brain is soup.

“Should we—oh!”

Jem falls back, laughing, as I lunge onto the bed and crawl on top of her, the mattress dipping beneath my hands and knees.

We kiss for a while first, bare skin against bare skin, the heat building between us until I can’t stand the tension zinging through my veins for a second longer. Then I cram a hand between us, stroking down Jem’s taut belly until I reach her pubic bone, covered in trimmed hair, and lower, her slick little seam.

She gasps into my mouth, arching up against me.

It’s a little clumsy, since we’re still learning each other. This is all so new. But I’m a quick learner, and soon enough I’ve got her thrashing and moaning, bucking against my hand, riding my pointer and middle fingers where they’re wedged inside her.

“Oh please,” Jem says, tossing her head on the bed covers. “Oh please, oh please.”

My wrist is shiny with her moisture. So goddamn sticky and sweet.

Jem’s body shudders as I draw my fingers out, her channel clutching at my knuckles. She’s not done yet, but that’s okay. That’s good.

“Are we doing this?” I ask, gripping her leg below the knee and folding it back so she’s open to me. Glossy and pink and swollen, the salty tang of her need so heady on the air. “You gonna let me in there, princess?”

“Yes.” Jem scrabbles at my shoulders, breathless with desire. “Yes, yes. Oh my god, come on. Please, Axel. Do it. Fuck me.”

I pause, breathing slowly through my nose, waiting for the static in my head to clear. Because she just said that, she did—sweet little Jem begged me to fuck her, and it was so hot I forgot my own name.

When I line up with her entrance, we’re both quiet. Tense. Like we’re both scared that somehow this won’t happen after all; a SWAT team will burst through the window and drag me off her, kicking and cursing. Because this can’t be right, it can’t be allowed, neither of us is used to this kind of luck. We can’t get everything we’ve been hoping for.

Teeth gritted, I sink forward an inch. Jem’s tight heat welcomes me, gripping my shaft, her inner muscles fluttering.

“Oh,” she says, her eyes heavy-lidded, and I duck down to kiss her throat. Her skin tastes like salt and fresh rain. “Oh, god.Please.”

Swallowing a groan, I push even deeper.

Anddeeper.

In… out.

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