by V. Theia
“Yesssss, so much.” Harper agreed with delight.
“Only until bedtime.” Rider input. He ruffled Harper’s hair and headed to the staircase.
Finding Zara sitting at her dressing table with the surrounding lights, he smiled from the doorway. He loved watching her getting ready. Loved watching her doing anything. She was so fucking beautiful. The sight of her still arrested his heart, making it sluggish with each pump.
Dressed in something red, he skimmed his eyes up to her bare legs and across her shoulders. She was fussing with her pale hair, the curls dancing around her neckline. Having gone with a new hairstyle recently, it was no longer draped down her back but perfect for fisting in his hands. Approaching, he found her in her own world when he dipped down to trail his lips on her neck, and she almost jumped a foot in the air. His hand stroked along her spine, and he felt the heavy thudding pulse through her skin.
“Just me,” he grinned at her through the mirror.
But that grin fell, browns drawing down when he saw she’d been genuinely scared.
* * *
“Hi, honey.” She greeted the love of her life while her heart returned to a steady thump.
So silly to get jumpy.
She was safe at home.
Swinging around on the stool, she watched Rider’s eyes skim over her dress and back to her eyes. He was still unsmiling, a face of seriousness with a shining emotion that could leave no doubt to his care when he said. “Something wrong?”
“Other than you needing a shower?” Her nose wrinkled. It usually made him grin. She upturned her face so he could drop a kiss on her lips. Instead of rising back to his height, he pinched her chin between finger and thumb. “Something wrong, Zara?”
“Honey, no. I was in a world of my own, excited for date night. You startled me, that’s all. Now go get ready, or we’ll be late.”
They were going to the local Tex-Mex bar for steaks and beer. Zara went forward and pressed their lips together.
“I love you more than anything, but hurry, I’m starving.”
“I know,” he said with a smirk dirtier than the mud out in the backyard, “I love you, too.”
She listened to him taking a shower while finishing her light make-up.
They shared everything from club business to family issues. But this was her stupid imagination, and she didn’t want to bother Rider with more of her neurosis. She’d save it for therapy next week.
Zara was waiting when Rider came out of the bathroom like a sexy, wet model. Hair brushing his shoulders. He’d clipped his beard; now it was framing his lips gorgeously.
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll send the babysitters home and take you to bed instead.”
“Such a horrible threat,” she chuckled, not hiding the fact she watched him while he pulled on a pair of worn jeans. Once he was in a long-sleeved Henley top and a button-down shirt, half-tucked in the front, he pulled on socks and shoved his feet into a pair of good boots.
How sexy he was slipping on a belt.
“Something you need from me, Icy?” A voice like burnt wood coasted over her skin. For a second, she considered delaying their date so she could rip his clothes off. He made her pulse dance under her skin.
He came over slowly, cradled her face in one freshly clean hand, and leaned down to kiss her. A soft brush of lips and beard, so lovely, her belly turned over with love.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Take me out for our date. And then…”
“I know what’s and then. Don’t make me harder than I already am by describing it.”
She dropped a hand and let it graze over his crotch. Oh, yes. He was hard.
It took no time at all to hustle her out to his truck and then to find a quiet booth in the bar-restaurant not long after that. It was busy for a Saturday night, but the only person Zara was interested in had his thigh pressed up to hers and a hand on her leg under the table. “I want a loaded baked potato as big as your head.” She exclaimed. “Extra sour cream.”
“Only my head?” Thick as smoke, his voice went through her like a bolt from God.
Dirty biker-man.
She reached up and threaded fingers through his hair, tightened them, and urged him to kiss her deeply. He made a sound against her mouth, from a bite of pain from her nibbling teeth; she thought at first. But then his tongue flicked between her lips and turned her to jello, urging them open, plunging deep. Zeal, as always, burned through them.
His hand closed on the back of her neck, firm but careful, and he kissed her a second time like he was starving.
God. God. God.
Time was irrelevant when it concerned Rider because his kisses always felt like that first one. Zara was a different person that night to the woman she was today. But what hadn’t changed was the way she was drawn to her biker-man obsessively.
A throat clearing caused them to part reluctantly. Rider held his hand around her nape and looked beyond her to the server. “You folks ready to order?”
Zara grinned and pressed her forehead to his collarbone. She’d been seconds from stripping him. But now she could go for a loaded baked potato, extra sour cream.
During their meal, the conversation turned to the club, as it so often did. She loved being his confidant. When their relationship turned serious, moving in together, using the same toothpaste and eating from the same groceries. She didn’t know then how open he’d be with her. Some of the older generation biker old ladies warned her about club life, how it was a biker’s world, and they were there to decorate it and not ask questions if her man messed around with the groupies.
Zara hadn’t bought into that. It took a while to accept the role of being his old lady, but Rider was not the kind to screw around behind her back.
It became a seamless transition from a girlfriend to a confidant and then to Zara having a more prominent role within the club.
“You’re sure they’re ready?”
“Ready as they’ll ever be. They’ve been good prospects; they deserve the patch.”
“Is it a party situation? Do I need to do anything?”
Rider smirked and swiped his thumb against the corner of her lip. “Is that your way of saying you wanna throw the boys a party? We usually have a few beers and a hog.”
“It feels like my kids are graduating.”
Rider laughed at this. “Don’t tell that to Slider and Coop. They already think of you like a hot mom.”
She blushed and poked him.
“Whatever you boys do to initiate the new brothers, if you need me to do anything, give me advance notice.”
Men piled into the bar, wearing black cuts. Men from Jamie Steele’s MC. But for a second, she thought … she thought.
Ugh. Her heart knocked hard and then returned to normal.
Eyes like blue lasers were watching her…noticing her every reaction.
Years back, she would never have pegged Rider Marinos as a thoughtful man when she first saw him. As someone who valued things outside of their most basic capability to bring him pleasure. A prejudice of hers, she could admit. She’d walked into the MC, naïve as a freshly rolled snowman and judged based on sight only.
But she recognized the look on his face now. The careful way he studied her. As if committing her to memory, trying to dig down deep into her psyche to check if something was wrong.
He reached out and fingered the dip along her collarbone with just the pads of his callused fingers. Trailing a path which tingled and ignited in the wake of his touch. The reaction was regular as clockwork. Between her breasts and across the softness of her belly, his touch moved on. A raw honesty in his gaze. “You’ve been off-step all afternoon; what’s on your mind?” He was gonna be pissed if she put him off a second time, so she wouldn’t. This was Rider. She could talk to him, however big or small or silly. “And Zara? Whatever you have to say to me, remember it’s gonna be your man filthy fuckin’ you the moment I get you into our bed later.”
The declaration pu
t heat in her loins and a bubbled laugh from her mouth. He was so deliciously coarse, and she loved that about him. She pulled his hand from her belly, or she wouldn’t be able to think other than to get him under her dress.
“I’m stupid, just to preface it.”
“You’re never stupid. Tell your man.”
Now she felt even sillier for not voicing herself better yesterday when she got home. Rider would never judge her for seeing things.
“While I was at my dress fitting yesterday, I thought… it’s stupid, okay? I already know this. I thought I saw a man wearing a Raging Rebels jacket.”
He didn’t laugh.
Or crack a joke.
Rider would never poke fun at her internal fears, even all this time later.
But she didn’t expect his stony face or to feel a vibration going through him either.
That was when her fear returned tenfold.
FIVE
“Not so much blushing, but a bride to be anyway.” – Zara
Wedding: T-minus 16 days.
It was after midnight when they got home.
Ajax hustled a tired Annie into their truck. Rider stood out on the stoop until his parents drove down the street, and then he locked up. Making sure the house was closed down, he looked in on the kids and then trekked to his room, where Zara was climbing into bed with a fatigued sigh.
He hadn’t liked how their night ended. She’d brushed off her fear. Acted like she’d seen things. He knew her better. His Zara could spot a hot dog stand at Disneyland a mile away in a sea of thousands. There was no way she imagined shit on the street, even if it was snowing. It meant she saw what she saw. And now his brain was going fucking nuts to get some answers.
He’d danced with her, fed her the ice cream she loved. The same ice cream he kissed from her lips. But this new shit wasn’t far from the front of his mind.
There was no way they’d left one of the Rebels alive. Even months later, after their raid and Rider forging a new life with Zara, he’d put feelers out throughout the States to other chapters for Rebels sightings. Not one.
But he trusted Zara’s instincts.
It took him only seconds to ditch his clothes, brush his teeth and then climb into bed behind Zara, putting her into the curve of his body where she snuggled back, pulling his arm around her.
“Sixteen days,” she murmured, and he smiled against the crown of her hair.
“Can’t wait, Icy.”
“Zara Marinos.”
He about vibrated their bed with how deep his satisfied growl was. He wanted his name all over her. It was caveman-like the way he thought about her, and he gave no fucks about whether he was politically correct. Zara belonged to him. He belonged to her.
“Or,” she said, with humor to her sweet voice. “Rider Freeze.”
“Not even.” He pinched her butt, making her squeal, and then burrowed back into him. “You’re gonna have my name because you’re my old lady.”
“Possessive monster.” She tutted. After a minute, he thought she’d dropped off to sleep. Then she asked. “What will you do?”
Clarification for the conversation switch wasn’t needed.
“I’ll look into it, baby.” When she didn’t reply, he pulled her in tighter, putting as much love into his arms, pressing his mouth to her neck. “You’re safe. You know that, yeah? No one will ever hurt you again.”
“I know, honey. I hope it was my crazy imagination. I’d prefer that, you know?”
He wanted it to be a cautious imagination, but they were both trying to pretend. Rider vowed to give Zara anything she asked for, but he couldn’t fight the demons in her head. He could only be there when she needed him. But hunting down someone who shouldn’t exist? Yeah, that was something active Rider could do.
So into his musings, the breath swept out of him when Zara wriggled out of his arms and straddled his lap. Hands so fucking greedy went to her hips automatically. She was so tiny compared to him. He loved feeling her in his hands and under him. But looking up at her like this, not bad at all. His dick stirred, and Rider slaked out his tongue when he got an eyeful of her beautiful tits in the tight little tank top.
“I was promised something filthy.” She stated. Yeah, didn’t that make his cock jerk awake? Proud as fuck. He and his dick loved satisfying their old lady. Being inside Zara was the pleasure that didn’t quit. There was no chill with him when it came to his woman. “But I want something else first.”
“Oh, yeah?” He rasped, thick-like. It took little to strike a match to Rider’s arousal, stroking her hips, making her pliable as she listed forward, grinding herself back and forth. She better be soaked inside her panties, or this was gonna be over before he even got inside her.
“Have I told you how excited I am to become your wife?”
“A few times, yeah.” He grinned, getting off hearing it. Took her long enough to make it happen, even longer still for her and her mom to make this shindig come together. Rider would have dragged a priest to the hospital to make it legal.
“When I think about it, I get excited, Ambrosio.”
Oh, she was in a horny mood. His given name only came out of her when she wanted fucking. He squeezed her tighter to get her to move this along.
“And turned on,” she said, almost in a shy whisper.
His sweet girl. Wouldn’t think she’d screwed his brains out countless times. Still so innocent with dirty talk.
“Now I want to rip an orgasm from my soon-to-be-husband.”
The growl was torn out of Rider. “Do it then.”
A lesson he was forever learning was never to underestimate his woman. Because when he expected her to reach down and pull her panties aside so she could lead his cock inside her, she slid down his body, ass in the air, and she latched her hot, wet mouth around him.
Almost blowing the top of his skull apart.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned; his head was thrown back, neck tight as he went with her motion of sweet crown licks.
It was torture. Sweet fucking torture.
“Zara… don’t tease your man, suck all my cock.”
“Is that what you want? I might choke.” She dared ask him in a teasing tone, swiping a bead of pre-come from his tip while she tried to pump him through her hand.
She was a beautiful liar. She knew how to swallow every inch because he’d taught her how.
“You’re gonna get it,” he warned, and she laughed, vibrating the sound around his dick. The base of Rider’s spine heated. She could smile sweetly and have a climax boiling out of him at the same time. He adored this woman, even if she was killing him with her small sucks and testing flicks of her tongue. To better see her working him, he pushed himself up the bed with his back to the headboard. She mewled when his cock slipped free, and he watched her attack him again like a hungry puppy would a bone.
A grunt dragged from his throat.
Sweet hell. She was so goddamn good.
She loved praise. And when he gave it, dirty style, she gave him a deep, throat touching suck that nearly burst his balls open. But what he noticed was his dirty girl dry-humping air like she was so turned on by sucking his cock. Rider couldn’t have that, couldn’t leave her out. He reached through the leg of her panties and found her sopping wet. All but dripping out of her hole when he strummed his fingers there.
“Oh, god.” She whined with shock, popping him free of her mouth.
“Mouth, Icy.”
She latched on again.
Fingering her was a special kind of torment. Making her juicy and getting her worked up was right out of his filthy dreams, but he wanted more.
He pulled his hand free, sucked her honey from his fingers, and then grabbed her little ass. She squealed as he pulled her up, butt first.
“Rider… what on earth?” She giggled as he got her straddled over his lap, facing his cock, her ass in his face.
Rider’s mouth watered. Fuck yeah.
“Gimme your mouth again, baby. Gonna eat
you too.”
He didn’t wait. Rider never stood on ceremony where his appetite was concerned. He didn’t even know which fucking knife and fork to use. So, he slid down her panties, listening to her gasps of surprise. Sexy little thing. And then he attached his mouth from top to bottom of her pussy. Letting her get familiarized with him first. Feeding his tongue between her slit, tasting the sweetness she’d made for him.
Goddamn, that was it.
Witnessing Zara braced over his lap, with her throat taking all his cock in incredible big sucks, meant he wasn’t a patient man. At all. It felt too good, better still, to have her riding back on his face until his beard smelled as sweet as her.
Rider took his Icy-girl until she burst free in his mouth, feeling her cry around his cock. His good girl went on sucking him and working what she couldn’t swallow down with her hand. And seconds after she came, he had a silent roar in his throat as he followed.
No sexier sight than watching her drink him in with moan after pleasured moan from her lips. When Zara collapsed at his side, Rider crawled over her, prying her softened limbs open. He was still hard, it would soften soon, and he had nothing left in him after her sucking mania, but he needed inside her. He pushed in, felt her quivering tightly as he had to force past her tighter than tight pussy to touch the bottom of her.
“Rider, oh, god.” She breathed-laughed, clutching his shoulders as he settled down on her. Feeling her come in his mouth was out of this world. Feeling her pussy shuddering from the inside was not something he wanted to miss. He held inside her as she wound her left leg around his hip, giving two short pumps to make her tremble a little for him.
Rider groaned and took her mouth. Their kiss was slow and sweet.
Didn’t matter how many times he had her. He could ride her missionary for the rest of his life, and it would be the best sex he’d ever had.
Some women were born unique.
His Zara was born not of this world, and he was the lucky bastard who got to love her.