Page 2 of The Bikers Redemption

His abs are visible under his white T-shirt, and his motorcycle club cut is open at his chest but covers his back.Cut—I never understood why they call it that. Isn’t it just a leather vest? Why not call it as it is?

Women must throw themselves at him because if he weren’t the Harley I used to know, I’d confuse him with a god standing here with those blue eyes, dark and messy hair, and bronzed skin. The thought of him kissing other women irritates me, and I immediately bury that jealousy. I have no right to be jealous. He’s not mine, so he’s free to kiss and sleep with whoever and how many women he likes.

“That’s right,” I hiss, laying back against the headboard. “This older woman has more sense now. I’m not the same naïve girl who would have done anything for the man she loved and put him first. No, that girl has left.”

Cocking his head to the side, he smirks and slowly places his knees on the edge of the bed. My heart picks up a beat, and suddenly, I feel caged in with nowhere to run.

Harley is fast, and even if I try to jump off the bed, he’ll catch me before I can run out of the room. He’s already proved he can outrun me. With all the muscles he’s carrying, he’s also swift on his feet.

Harley’s eyes bore into mine, and I hold my breath. It’s as if he can see straight into my soul with just one stare.

“That’s where you’re wrong, wildcat. I believe you are the same girl I knew back then.” He slides on his knees to get a little closer. “Only now you’re a married woman.” Disgust fills his voice.

He inches closer…

“And one who’s married to the enemy.”

Just as I’m about to answer, he seizes my ankles and slides me down the bed toward him. I scream, but he ignores me. His hands cup the back of my thighs. As I watch him, his eyes grow heavy and settle on my exposed pussy, making me feel vulnerable.

Damn me for thinking it was a good idea not to wear underwear. I would feel better knowing he couldn’t see the most intimate part of my body.

My heart quickens when I wonder what he’ll do next. When I try to pull free, he continues to hold me down with his firm grip. My clit throbs as he groans and bites his bottom lip, his eyes dilating with need.

“Fuck me, Serena. I could fucking eat you out right here and now. I’m a starved man who’s gone too long without tasting you. But I wonder…” he whispers, his eyes moving up to mine, and I swallow at the hunger I see there, “… do you taste as good as you used to? Or perhaps better?”

Oh, fuck. I am instantly damp between my thighs, and my clit feels like it will explode.

“Look at how swollen you are for me, baby. I bet if I touch you, you would be wet for me, wouldn’t you?”

Shaking my head, I lie. “You would be wrong. I’m as dry as a desert for you.”

He smirks like he knows I’m lying, and I say a brief prayer he doesn’t prove me wrong because it’s true. I am a liar. My body is aching for his touch and is betraying my mind.

“Liar,” he whispers. “You know, I might just have that taste now.”

“Don’t, please,” I beg.

He looks at me, his stare challenging. “What’s wrong, Serena? You worried you will lose control as soon as my mouth is on you?”

Gasping, I try to squeeze my thighs, but his hands move up to my knees, keeping them apart.

“Tell me, Serena…” he kneels between my open thighs now, and his palms run down the insides, stopping at their apex, “… have you missed me? Have you missed how I fuck you, bringing you to orgasm with just my mouth, not even needing to use my cock?”

Oh God!

Swallowing hard, I try to focus on anything else other than his mouth on me.

He laughs a husky laugh. “If I’m correct, it seems your body wants this.”

In one quick movement, he pins me down and lays on top of me. He moves, rubbing his hardness against my center, causing friction that my body is responding to and craving. I try to push him off me, but he’s too strong. His hands pin my wrists above my head, making it impossible for me to break free. His lips are just above mine, and he licks my jawline to my ear, where he traces the outside, then whispers, “Tell me, does Luca make you feel like this?” He grinds into me, and the ache deepens.

He leans down to kiss me, but I turn my head to the side, not allowing him access to my mouth.

“Okay, if that’s how you want to play it, then let’s play, wildcat,” he challenges.

“If you touch me, I’ll scream.” I spit.

“Is that right? Well, I believe you will scream, but not for me to leave you alone, but for me to fuck you.” He’s so smug. “If memory serves me well, I can recall exactly what part of your body makes you scream.”

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