Page 21 of The Sins Of The Biker

She takes the final step toward me, and her hand reaches up to caress my cheek. It’s warm and comforting, and for a moment, I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying her touch.

“I’m here for you, Harley. No matter what. I’m here. You just have to let me in.”

Opening my eyes, I feel a sense of loss for the Harley I was a week ago—the man who wanted to marry Serena tomorrow, make her happy, and live life to the fullest. But now, I’m empty inside. Nothing exists except revenge, and I don’t want my feelings to taint her. And as much as I hate to admit, she deserves better than me, and I need to tell her that.

“Serena,” I say, grabbing her hands and holding them in mine. “You know I will always love you, don’t you?”

She inhales. “You said,will always. Why do I feel you’re breaking up with me?”

I look away because I can’t stand to see her expression when I tell her what I need to say. It’s tearing me in two. Then, taking a second to regain my strength, I continue, “Not exactly.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, it takes all the courage I have to say, “I just need some time, Serena… time to figure out shit. And there are things I need to do that I can’t have you be a part of.”

“Youarebreaking up with me,” she repeats.

Gripping her shoulders, I try to explain, “I’m asking for you to wait for me.”

Her face drops, and she steps back, frowning. “Wait for you? Where are you going?”

Inhaling, I reply, “I really can’t say right now, but I need time. I need time to figure out what happened to my old man and who is responsible for it. A lot of shit is going to go down, and I will die before I would let anything happen to you.”

Her eyes widen, and I notice a tear roll down her cheek.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Serena, but you must understand that what I’m doing is best for you. I can’t be the man you deserve right now and—”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare,” she cries, anger radiating from her. “Don’t pull away from me, Harley Ramerez. I won’t let you.”

Staring up at her face, I take in her beauty. Her eyes display anger, and her cheeks are flushed.She’s so beautiful.I know I am hurting her, but sometimes hurting is better than bringing her into my world. A world that may get her hurt or worse, killed. And that is a risk I am simply not willing to take.

“Please, Serena, don’t make this harder than it already is. I need some time to figure out who killed my father, and in order for me to do that, I can’t have you in my life right now. I’d only be putting you in danger.”

She shakes her head. “But, Harley, I love you. We can still be together. I don’t want to lose you.” Stepping forward, Serena cups my face in her hands and softly kisses my lips. Salty tears brush mine when she pulls away. ”I love you, Harley, and nothing will change that. Let me help you. Let me be here for you. I won’t interfere in anything you have going on with your club.”

Shaking my head, I reply, my voice sounding croaky, “I can’t… things could get really bad, Serena, and for me to do what I need to, I can’t be worried about you too.”

Feeling like my heart is breaking into a million pieces, I grip the back of her neck and smash her lips to mine, wanting to remember every single touch and feel of her, her taste, and her smell. I want all of her. I need to remember what I’m coming back to when this is finally all over.

Her tongue plays with mine, and she meets me for every bite, suck, and lick. We’re in a frenzy, and my hands reach behind her and slide down her back to where I grip her butt cheeks in my large hands. She moans, and my cock hardens.

My mother can probably hear us, but I don’t care.

Right now, all that consumes me is Serena.

I need this moment to remember her. I don’t know how long it will take until I’m one hundred percent sure my club and I are no longer in any danger, and that includes the ones we love.

Returning to my senses, I pull back my hands at the back of her neck. Resting my forehead against hers, I say, “Wait for me, Serena.Please.”

She sniffles, and I know she’s crying.

I peer up at her, and her lips are swollen from our kiss. Wiping away her tears with my thumbs, I kiss her one last time. “Wait for me,” I repeat in a whisper. And then, without another word, I turn to my car, open the door, and sit behind the steering wheel. I chance a glance and watch her cover her mouth with her hand as she cries, but I look away and focus on the road ahead because if I glance at her one more time, I’ll be tempted to take back everything I just said.

It’s better this way.

For her.

For me.

She might not think that now, but she will realize I am only doing what’s best.

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