Page 47 of Biker's Prisoner: Property of Bucky

“We could save the talking for dinner,” Zayna says, covering my kitchen counter in disinfectant and giving me a delightful view of her sexy ass wiping the counter clean. There is something so fucking hot about watching a woman cook and keep house. My ex-wife never did that shit, not even before she went to prison. Most biker chicks consider yelling at the McDonalds drive thru to be preparing a home cooked meal.

She walks to the other side of the kitchen to get her latex gloves for washing dishes that are hanging outside the cabin window to dry off. I steal my opportunity to follow her to the window sill like a loyal puppy and I use my arms to pin her against the window sill. Zayna forgets the gloves and swings around, pressing her ass against the window sill and her hands against my chest.

Fuck. Her touch sends my heart beating out of control and I meant to expose her, but end up being the one feeling exposed when Zayna looks up at me, filled with that strange curiosity again.

“You don’t touch me for sixteen days and now you’re all over me,” she says, her hand clearly applying pressure to my chest. Pushing me away.I don’t want that. I can’t…

“We have an agreement now.”

“What did I agree to?”

Thoughts of her pussy run through my head on a loop. Keeping my tongue away from her lips has been pure torture. But I had to think. What if Tamiya was right? I’m too racist. Too fucked up for Zayna. Killing won’t make it better. The news from Tamiya about her past makes my choice simple. Racist or not — I have to do what she commands, for the sake of what I feel and my own reckless ass heart.

Zayna’s hand against my chest makes me nervous. My turn to do some touching around here. I put my hands on her hips. My dick throbs.

“You agreed to a nice little tattoo, to tell me the names of the men you want me to kill and to give me a little bit of pussy.”

“You don’t want to know why I want them dead?”

“No.”

What I want to know is about the man she doesn’t want dead. That ex-boyfriend of hers. Sure, he didn’t attack her… but if she wants me to kill every man who did her wrong, why doesn’t she ask me to kill him?

“You confuse the hell out of me.”

My dick throbs. She is damn crazy for saying that to me. Then again, I challenge any man to name more than three women who aren’t crazy. That’s just the way of the world. Every woman has her own brand of crazy and you have to find the kind of crazy that you love.

“I can make it simple for you,” I tell her, my hands running over her hip bones as I touch the top of her ass cheeks. My dick is just about ready to explode. I am pent up. I needed to wait for her. To feel the pain of sleeping next to her half-naked body every night without giving in to my darkest urges to touch her. Tame her. Leave a puddle of my seed between her sexy dark brown legs.

Zayna’s expectant expression wraps me more tightly around her finger.

“I want you, but I know how you women get. Once you have a man hooked, all you want to do is run and have him chase you. But I don’t work like that. I want fidelity. I want something permanent.”

“I don’t think I ever want to be married,” Zayna says, her voice getting shockingly vulnerable. Like there’s some truth in there so fucking deep that she has to tell me – even if it might get in the way of what she wants.

“Then don’t think. Let me win your heart.”

“By murder?”

“Worked the first time.”

“You didnotwin my heart. You asked to have custody of me and everybody involved, including myself, was terrified about leaving you with a baby.”

“I would never hurt Eden.”

Her eyes flash nervously to mine. She wants assurance. I give it to her, holding firm, steady eye contact with Zayna.

“I will never hurt Eden. And I would never hurt any of ours either.”

“Ours?”

I kiss her on the lips. I shouldn’t take this too far. Her hands scrunch up the fabric of my shirt.Don’t push me away.She pulls me closer. It doesn’t feel real. But it’s happening. I move forward a step, forcing Zayna to sit up on the open cabin windowsill. I clutch her hips so tightly, that I must be leaving a mark. But I just need to kiss her.

I need to kiss a woman who doesn’t push me away. Her lips are so full. So soft. It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. I love her lips. They feel so different against mine. So big and soft. Comforting. Everything about her body has this homespun warmth to it. I just want to bury my head between those sexy tits and fall asleep.

When I pull away from Zayna, she stares at my eyes. Every woman has the same reaction to my eyes – she doesn’t knowif they make her want to fuck me or run away from me.Scary blue eyes.Zayna stares a lot, like she’s never seen eyes like mine. Gideon’s eyes are the same color. So are a few of the other Blackwoods who don’t have grey eyes instead. They aren’t that special in my family, but my eyes give her permission to focus on me.

And it’s exactly what I want from her right now.

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