Once I’m back beside the bike, a sense of guilt washes over me. I just manhandled a pregnant woman, and one that’s already been through enough.
“Take your helmet off,” I say gruffly.
“What?” she asks, her voice muffled by the helmet.
I unclasp the chin strap and pull it gently from her head. Her blue eyes look deep into mine, and I’m sure she can see right through to my soul. She’s still pissed, though. Her flushed face, glittering stare, and creased forehead prove that.
I sit on my bike, facing her. “Look, Charity, I’m sorry about… you know…. About….”
“About how you just picked me up and carried me over your shoulder like a crazy person?”
Crazy about her!“Yeah, something like that,” I admit, scratching my scruffy jaw. I smile at her then and cup her cheek. Her face softens at my touch, and it’s taking everything in me to hold back from kissing her. Her silken hair feels amazing through my fingers, and I imagine what it would look like if she was sprawled out naked on my bed. Shaking my head to get rid of that thought, I say, “I’m sorry for treating you like that, it won’t happen again.”
“Which part?” she asks, her eyebrows raising slightly.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the part about you kissing me and basically dry humping me, or the part where you carried me over your shoulder?”
Tilting my head, I think on her words. I can’t guarantee that I won’t kiss those sweet lips again, but I can definitely assure her I won’t manhandle her again.
“Let’s just leave it, shall we?”
She puffs out a breath and mutters, “Figures.”
I remove my hand from her cheek. “What was it you figured?”
“The fact that you can’t admit how much you want me—which is just as much as I want you.”
I feel a rush of warmth run through my veins at her admission, and my cock throbs with an urgent need for her. She wants me. Fuck! How am I supposed to forget those words?
She bites down on her bottom lip and inches closer to me. I suck in a breath; her nearness is too much. “Charity… this can’t happen,” I say, flicking my finger between our bodies.
“It can’t, or you won’t let it?” she responds, her eyes now on my lips.
Again, she moves another inch closer. Out of the corner of my eye I see Hazel talking to Tracker, and Bear is distracted talking on his phone.
“It can’t,” I state again, feeling the breath hitch at the back of my throat.
“You’re a coward,” she whispers, looking straight at me when she delivers that punch.
I straighten. “A coward? Why? Because I don’t want to fuck a woman who’s been through a lot recently, and who must be scared out of her mind to be running away with her friend, not caring that’s she’s running to an MC ?” Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but I continue. “You don’t want me, you’re just looking for someone to comfort you and look after you. Well, I’m tellin’ you now, that ain’t me. I’ll help you, get you to a safe house, but that’s it. You’re right on one thing, though. I may want you—fuck, how could any man not want you, you’re fucking beautiful—but you deserve better, a man that will give you everything you need, not a biker like me, who doesn’t care what tomorrow brings, and likes it that way. Nah, you’re better than that, so get it out of your head that anything’s happening between us, because it ain’t.”
And with that said, I hand her the helmet again, trying desperately to ignore the tears that are now rolling down her face. She needed to hear it; I can’t offer her what she needs. Sure, I can get her protection, but that’s it. And yeah, I don’t want any other fucker to have her either, but that’s not the point.
With that decision made, and as much as it made things ache inside me, and not in a good way, I turn around in the seat, start my bike, lift the kickstand, and signal to the others to leave.