Page 26 of Rise In Arms

I stand outside the motel room with my brothers, waiting beside our bikes for the women to emerge. Now that I’ve met Charity in person, I have this overwhelming need to protect her, keep her close. I contemplate having Charity ride back with Bear, and Hazel with me, but the thought of Charity on the back of Bear’s bike, pressed up against him, arms around his body and her thighs on either side of his, has my temper rising. There’s no fuckin’ way I’m allowing that. Bear or Tracker wouldn’t dare risk making moves on my sister, knowing full well blood would spill if Hazel reported anything like that back to me, so with that in mind I yell out to the women, who are walking out the door with their backpacks over their shoulders. “Hazel, you’re with Bear, Charity, you’re riding with me.”

Bear’s head whips toward me, a smug smile creeping onto his face. I lean in close enough that I can whisper in his ear—seems like a reminder might be necessary after all. “You even think about touching my fuckin’ sister, or have any kind of sexual thoughts about her—even breathe on her too fuckin’ hard—and I will beat the goddamn life out of ya. Got it, fucker?”

Bear’s eyebrows raise. “I wasn’t smiling at Hazel being on my bike, fucker. I’m smiling because you would rather have your sister on the back of my bike, than Charity. That right there? It says a lot.”

I narrow my eyes at him, my lip raising at the corner in a sneer. Asshole. “It means shit. Now shut the fuck up, and… go easy with her on your bike.” I trust Bear to look after Hazel, and I know he’s one of the most careful riders in the MC, but a fear of the unknown on the road always lingers in the background.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, man,” Bear says, chuckling to himself and slipping me a wink.

“What’s so funny?” Hazel asks as she gets within earshot, Charity walking beside her.

I clear my throat and throw Bear my most fearsome look. “Nothin’, just telling Bear to take it easy on the way back.” I look from Hazel to Charity. “You feelin’ all right? Up to jumping on that and putting some miles between us and this shithole?” I turn to point at my bike, a touch of the pride I feel for it lacing my voice.

Charities eyes light up, and she walks closer to it, her hand sliding over the handle bars, across the fuel tank, and coming to rest on the black leather seat. “She’s beautiful. A ‘72 Sportster, right?”

Stunned, I step closer and stand beside her. “You know your bikes?”

She looks at me, her cheeks turning pink. “Um… I haven’t been on one before. Always wanted to, though. My… my dad used to ride in his youth but never let me on the back of his. My mom was strict about that stuff,” she adds with a wry grin.

I grin back at her, my heart doing this flip-flop thing that I try hard to ignore. “Well, today’s your lucky day. Here, pop this on,” I say, handing her my helmet. She takes it out of my hand and looks over at my bike again. “Where’s your helmet?”

I lift my chin toward her hand. “You have it.”

Charity blinks slowly, then raises her gaze to mine, concern showing in her bright blue eyes. “Oh…. Here, you wear it.”

Shaking my head, I take it out of her hands and place it over her head, pressing on it gently until it settles into place. “Not having that, babe. Your safety comes first. I’ll be all right.”

She adjusts the angle of the helmet so it sits straight, then places her hands on her hips. “How do I look?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to conceal my smile. She looks cute as fuck. Brushing past her I say, “Good, now hop on.”

She doesn’t say anything else, so I straddle my bike, and she follows suit, her hands clutching at the underside of the seat.

Grinning to myself, I yell, “Closer,” over the sound of the engine as it comes to life, revving loudly as I push forward on the throttle to warm it up a bit.

“Pardon?”

I briefly glance over my shoulder. “I said closer. And hold on tight.”

“Like this?” she asks, sliding her ass forward till her chest is up against my back. I let go of the throttle and reach behind me with both hands, grasping her thighs and pulling her an inch or so closer, loving the heat I imagine coming off her pussy against me.

The sound of her sudden gasp at my bold move reaches my ear, and I laugh, loving that I’m having some fun with her.

“Now hold on,” I remind her, reaching up and grabbing onto the handlebars again, looking around to see if my brothers are ready to roll.

Her hands clutch the sides of my jacket, gripping tightly as she obeys my instruction. I instantly pull them away from the leather and wrap them firmly around my waist instead. “Like this. Now, hold on tightly.”

I look down my body, seeing her arms tighten, and I smile in satisfaction and take out my shades and put them on. I look to my right where Bear is waiting patiently on his bike, Hazel perched behind him with a respectable distance between them. Tracker is to my left, watching everything going on with a cocky grin. I nod to both of them. “Ready?”

“Let’s ride,” Bear shouts over the roar of the engines. I gun my bike and let go of the clutch, loving the sound of Charity squealing behind me when we take off.

Driving along with Charity on the back of my bike, I find it difficult to concentrate on where the hell I’m supposed to be going. Thank fuck Bear is leading, with Tracker close behind me, because with the way I’m ridin’ I’m shocked I haven’t been pulled over by the highway cops. The feel of Charity’s arms around me, her breasts pushed firmly up against my back, has me constantly adjusting myself to make room for the sudden growth in my jeans. Charity has noticed my not-so-subtle movements and has even asked a few times if I’m okay. How can I say to her, “No, I’m not fucking okay because the heat from your pussy’s seeping into my jeans, and your breasts feel so damn good against me.” Nah, no way can I tell her that—she’s just another woman, that’s it. I don’t know why the hell she’s getting to me. Maybe….

Nah, can’t go there. Charity comes with baggage, has her own problems to deal with, the last thing she needs is another man in her life. Plus, she’s knocked up with Blake’s baby. Blake… why the fuck did it have to be him? He’s one lucky fucker to have a woman like Charity. She’s beautiful, sassy, got a mouth on her, and her body…fuck, her body is fuckin’ perfection. Why the fuck he treated her that way I have no clue, but I’ll make sure he won’t ever lay another hand on her. Not on my watch.

Her hands lay low on my abdomen, and I feel them flatten against my stomach. Goose bumps cover me from head to toe at her touch and I squeeze the handlebars tight, trying to distract myself. She’s driving me fucking crazy. Fuck, what was I thinking, having her on the back of my bike? This is the longest fucking hard-on I’ve ever had.

A couple of hours pass, and I hear her sweet voice say, “Can we stop, please? I need to pee.”

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