by V. Theia
Whichever way she looked at it, she wasn’t plagued by guilt.
She didn’t want to live in fear, and therefore something had to give. Zara wasn’t good with Rider’s methods, nor was she troubled by them either. He kept their family safe, and that would always be her priority.
Without noticing it happening, she’d become a true biker old lady. Understanding their way of life wasn’t all black and white and that some shades of gray were necessary for survival.
Leaving her parents at the house, she’d gotten a call from Rider to meet him at the club compound. The tone of his voice was playful, making Zara believe her biker-man was up to something devious.
“Do you know what he’s up to?” She questioned Pretty-Boy after climbing down from his truck. He smiled, eyes twinkling. Yeah, he knew.
“Haven’t got a clue, Zara.”
“Careful of those flaming lying pants, Mace.” She told him, striding through the club doors, listening to his barked laughter behind her.
Rider wasn’t found in his office.
“You’ll find him around back, Z-girl.” Called out The Butcher, who was smiling like he knew the big secret too.
These boys, she loved them all.
But the smile on her face was for Rider when she saw him standing on the mountains cusp around the back of the compound. It was a football field’s distance away from the clubhouse when she finally reached him.
“If you say we’re going hiking, I might have to kick you in the shin.” She warned him as he reached out and roped her into the side of his body. She snuggled in, inhaling the outdoorsy smell on his clothes.
“We all know the only exercise you get is riding my dick, baby.”
Even as she laughed for the truth of it, she still gave him a whack in his solid stomach.
“It’s all the cardio a girl needs.” She informed him. “What are we doing out here?”
It was funny how their life from years ago sometimes paralleled the present. Not only the trouble with the Rebels. It was as though life was testing Zara, seeing how she handled a situation any better than she did back then.
She was no longer the same person, having grown a lot, learned to trust and deal with situations better. Becoming a mama and an old lady to the most revered biker in the united states put a lot of pressure on her small shoulders. And you know? She felt pretty damn proud of herself for being able to keep her chin high.
So when Rider smiled at her and threw out his arm, declaring. “Welcome to our new house.” Zara took it in her stride. He shifted his grip and stroked his thumb on her inner wrist. It was a well-placed move, and one Rider had done many times. It signified so many things between them. To let her know she was loved and cared for. That she wasn’t alone in this world, he was there. But it also had the desired effect to heat her blood to a high temperature. With years’ worth of small touches and significant looks between them that only spoke a lovers language they could understand.
It wasn’t the first time he’d thrown a house at her.
Only today, it wasn’t a cute little two-story brick abode he was offering her, but great big wide-open spaces at the foot of the snowy Colorado mountains.
TWELVE
“Turned on by a pantry. We all have our kinks.” – Zara
“Okay.” She started. “Are we broke? Are we going to live in tents now? Where will my Disney collection go?”
Rider laughed, feeling some of the tension slip from his shoulders. Remembering the last time he offered her a place to stay, she nearly took his head off. Angry little ice queen. He’d all but shoe-horned himself into being her roommate in his own damn house, all in the name of obsession. He still felt it today, bigger than ever. More passionate and stable than he did years ago.
Plans never went according to a schedule. He should be used to that by now. He felt like Zara needed this surprise sooner rather than later.
It was meant for their wedding day, but where his old lady was concerned, he was shit at keeping surprises from her.
“I had some plans drawn up with a local contractor. I know we talked about moving somewhere bigger in the future, but we need that now, Zara. This land is ours, so I thought we could build a house here.”
“Oh, my god. Are you serious?”
“You like the idea?” She hadn’t been keen to move and he knew why. Their house was her haven, the first place she’d felt at peace. Even Rider was reluctant to take that from her, but they’d outgrown their place, so had the kids. He’d wanted to give her a bigger house for a long time.
“I do,” she beamed up at him. Zara’s cheeks were reddened with the cold. Bundling her closer, he rubbed her arms, lifting the fake fur-lined coat hood over her hair, and then he hooked up her hand, walking forward. “Five steps up would be the porch. You wanted a wraparound one, yeah?”
“So much. With padded chairs, so we can sit out in the summer evenings.”
He knew that and worked it into the house blueprints.
“It’ll have a basement and an attic to store all your holiday crap. Five bedrooms, you get to tell the contractor how you want the rooms designed. Over here will be the double garage and a shed for my bikes. It’s close enough to the compound for extra security but far enough away that it’s still our private place, Zara. It’ll even have a private road.”
“Let me take it all in.” she breathed, turning her face up to the sky.
He watched her.
He always watched her.
Gauging her reactions.
He got off on seeing her happy, and that’s what he witnessed now as she saw in her mind’s eye the things he described to her.
While some things had been so easy for them after their tumultuous start—their love, for example—which was easy as breathing, other things were not.
She found solace when he loved her, especially when monsters came to her dreams, and she clung to him for safety. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. He hated her being hurt, but loved how she turned to him. He could take her away from the world with sex and affection, but he couldn’t save Zara from the war in her mind.
But she kept fighting.
And Rider kept trying to overpower her demons, anyway.
It was better now. Even Zara would say the same. Was it any wonder he would put a bullet in anyone to keep better days ahead for her?
Rider had a conscience, he wasn’t a serial lunatic, but killing didn’t mean shit to him because there was always a valid reason for it. But worrying over his old lady, now that almost castrated him.
He should have given her a bigger house when Knox was born. He’d probably screw up in the future too, but hey, his Zara loved him, which made him the luckiest bastard on two legs.
“I wanna be able to fuck you without having to press my hand over your mouth when your parents are visiting.” He explained, knocking his lips to her forehead.
He earned himself another half-hearted stomach slap. “You do alright, biker-man.”
“So we’re gonna have a guest house built right over there for them.”
She spun around in his arms. It always stunned him deep in his gut how fucking beautiful she was. It hit him now, the realization they were gonna be married soon. His lips twitched when she asked, “you’re building a guest house for my mom and dad to live in?”
“Not quite, but it’ll be good enough to stay in when they wanna visit. You love seeing them, and I want you to have them here whenever you want.”
“Rider.” She warbled, her lower lip trembling. “You prefer our privacy. This means they might be here more often.”
“Family, Zara.” Laying his lips to her forehead again, he curled his arm low on her waist. “They’re welcome anytime.” They walked the land, talking together, listening to her excitement building minute by minute.
“It’s going to be massive, Rider. Can we afford this?”
Lips twitching, she saw the books more than he did and their joint bank accounts. She’d know what they could a
fford. “It’s been an alright year.” The most lucrative year for the Souls, and it promised to get better. But even if he were dirt poor, he’d work five jobs if it meant giving Zara everything she’d dreamed of.
One detail out of all the house details made Zara stop, her eyes cartoon wide as she gaped. “Wait…wait…wait. You’re building me a walk-in pantry, Ambrosio? Oh, my god!” She squealed, grabbing the front of his opened jacket, the smile growing on his mouth. She was so easy to make happy. His chest ached. “Ughn. I’m so turned on right now. Put your hands down my pants.”
He wasn’t a simple bastard. It took him seconds to twist her around and to press his chest to her back, getting her nice and close to push his hand where she needed it. Even when she jolted at the coldness of his fingers on her warm, intimate skin, he grinned. “Like this?” Mouth to ear, dirty words ready to pour out of him.
“You are bad, biker-man,” she gasped, softening her smaller body into his.
“You told me to.”
“Mmm. Yes, I did.” She only allowed him a few rubs, so fucking wet, before she pulled away, taking his hand. “Let’s head in. It’s freezing.”
The warmth of the club greeted them as the door closed behind them. It’s Zara who led him through the main area. The first clue she had something in mind was that she didn’t stop to chat with anyone. Usually, she was a social butterfly. Instead of taking a right to his office, she turned her head, smiling up at him. His gut tightened. A nasty snatch of sex pulsed over him, and that’s when she tried a door handle, it opened and she all but dragged Rider through it.
It was one of the old kitchens they now used for storage.
“If I’d known building you a house would turn you into a horny animal, I would have done it years ago, Icy.” He remarked, letting her drag him forward by the jacket lapels.
She hummed, smiling at him. God, she put fire into his belly. So fucking beautiful. That’s when he took over by depositing her little butt on the chrome work surface. He widened her legs and pushed himself into the space.
This woman was still his wettest and wildest dream come true.
And she reminded him why he did the things he did when she smiled at him with arousal in her eyes. Her intentions and wants were clear in the rushed, chaotic movements of her hands as she pushed the jacket off his shoulders, yanked open the buttons on his pants, and then pulled the zipper down.
Sometimes, she wanted it slow and sweet. Other times, she wanted to be fucked until she couldn’t breathe while she clawed him up. There was no rhyme or reason why they loved each other. On paper, they’re each on a different spectrum, but he adored her to the point of madness.
Right then, she only seemed to want the same thing he did.
“You need it?” He asked, already getting rid of her jeans. Her panties were next, and a gorgeous, glistening pussy waited for attention.
“You’re building us a mammoth house, Rider.” She breathed into his mouth, hands locking into his hair. Her legs like vines wrapping around him until Rider scooted her to the very edge of the countertop. The perfect height for him to pull out his cock and drag the crown against her needy clit.
He saw tears in her eyes. The good kind, the kind that wouldn’t put hurt in his chest. He couldn’t stand to see Zara crying. This new chapter in their life felt like a turning point. Leaving the bad behind, and finally able to have the good.
Inside her, they found heaven together.
Something better.
Sweeter.
So fucking sweet. He rested his forehead on hers, using a forward and back motion to push the last inches inside her much tighter body.
They had a life worth living, one worth keeping and fighting for.
But there was something vital about moments like these. Stripped down, fundamental minutes that were entirely theirs, in the place they’d fought tooth and nail to preserve.
With her hands latched onto his hair, her panting breaths landed on his lips. And when he gave it good and deep to his woman how she needed it from him, she almost willed the come from his body as she shared, “I’m going to fuck you in every room of our new house.”
Jesus Christ.
He buffed a laugh into her mouth, letting her lead their kissing.
She tasted and took.
He groaned and drove deeper, unhurriedly.
Rider lost all sense of time when he was inside her, tending to the savage need she had, elevating his own as he built them up higher.
He’d wanted many things in his life, he lived by excess, but this here, this woman, she was the pinnacle of everything. He could live without water and air but ask him to go a day without Zara, and he’d fucking die.
And when they did finally come together, her walls shaking like maracas around his cock as she cried into his neck and her thighs spread wide; his lips found hers again. There was no way he could get closer when she told him, “I love you, Ambrosio. You make our life so perfect.”
She did too, for him.
He was a better man for her, even with his murky past.
Rider did the things he did, to give her the joy she deserved.
And nothing was ever gonna change that.
It was when he put her back into her clothes, she hopped down off the counter and curled into his side as he zipped up. He grinned, a different memory in his mind as he palmed her ass, put his mouth to her neck. “Remember the first time I fucked you in the club kitchen? You went nuts with the cleaner wipes.”
She burst out laughing.
They have had a lot of growth between them since then.
Now she was soft and loose and couldn’t give a damn if anyone knew what they’d done in this room. She might not recognize it, but his Zara was a formidable woman. Inside and out of the club.
“It feels like such a long time ago.”
It was. And it wasn’t.
“And now you’re my husband.” She told him, “with or without that paper. You’ve always been my biker-man husband.”
Swatting her ass in case she got any funny ideas, he didn’t work this long and hard to have her back out now. “Still getting the ring on your finger and you signing on the dotted line, woman.”
She laughed again. Soft and happy. He curved his arm around her shoulder, opening the door. “Yes, dear. Whatever you say.”
Sassy woman.
He’d fuck her again as soon as he got the feeling back in his legs.
THIRTEEN
“With this thumb, I thee suck.” – Rider
Wedding: T-minus 7 days.
Zara woke that morning sucking on two of Rider’s fingers.
It wasn’t as weird as some might think.
Coming awake on a moan when Rider tickled her tongue with a finger. Her eyes pinged open to find his hotter than hot amused gaze on her, resting on an elbow at her side.
Zara was no stranger to finger sucking. She liked to tease him until he lost his control and mauled her. “What’s going on?” She asked him, with her mouth full.
Though, it sounded more like “ut gun on.”
Rider chuckled and removed his two fingers, letting them linger over her wet mouth, tracing the shape of her lips. “I was gonna wake you with a kiss, I leaned over and touched your lips, and you turned into a Venus flytrap and sucked them in.”
“Oh, my god, Rider.” She laughed, rolling into him, burying her face in his neck. “I had a sexy dream. But it wasn’t your fingers in my mouth.”
A grunt pumped out of him. Gotcha, biker-man, she thought. When he rolled over and fit his hips into the breach her opened legs made, she curled her feet around the bottom of his legs, stroking a pathway along the sides of his ribcage.
“Tell me about this filthy dream you were having.”
His demand made her grin.
“You have a dirty mind, Ambrosio. I was dreaming I was eating an ice pop.” She lied, pressing her tongue into her cheek.
His eyes darkened, head lowered, putting curtains of his brown hair in h
er face.
“You were sucking hard on my fingers, Icy, and moaning your dirty-girl sex whimpers. I’ve seen you eat an ice pop, and you don’t make those sounds.” Running his nose along the side of hers, he grunted again, giving her a little hip drive. This time she moaned from low in her throat. “You were dreaming about sucking my cock, weren’t you? Tell your man.”
He was seducing her with voice alone, and Zara could have quaked at the knees if she were not already prone under him.
It was as she went in for a kiss, lips barely meeting, when the shriek of their second son broke the fire burning up between them.
Rider groaned.
Zara whimpered.
But then, a miracle happened, and they heard someone climbing the staircase. A small knock on their bedroom door, “I will see to the kids, Zara sweetie, have a little extra time in bed,” her mom called out.
She’d forgotten she’d given a key to her mom to let herself in this morning.
Giggling into Rider’s chest, she listened to the kids being shuffled down to the kitchen.
“We should get up,” she said with no conviction to follow through because she liked it right here with him.
“I have a better idea. And it’s endorsed by your mom,” A slick Rider smirked, mouth aiming for hers. He kissed her non-existent socks off until she was breathless.
He was hard.
She was horny.
Usually, when they made love like they did last night, Rider cleaned her up and then handed over PJs for her to sleep in. Zara was a PJ girl. More often than not, Rider slept in the nude, but they were both naked under the sheets after knocking her into a coma last night. When he slid out of bed, she clung to the sheet and watched him leaning hands on the bed to dip down to her mouth. All too willing to open for him, but it was over in seconds. “You were loud when I took you last night.” The man didn’t lie. The prospect of getting married had turned her Rider into a wilder man than usual, which in turn made her crazy. “Get into the bathroom, Icy. Gonna see if I can live up to your nasty dreams.” He boasted, knowing fine well he outdid every dream she could have.