“So, this is your apartment. It’s not how I pictured it.” Jagger paced around Arianne’s living room, his concession to stop at her apartment on the way back to the clubhouse clearly not sitting easily with him. “I thought it would be more girly. Not all this beige furniture and brown tables and landscapes on the walls.”
“Girly?” Arianne’s voice shook as adrenaline continued to pound through her body. Not just from the anger and frustration at finding herself in the same situation over and over again—guns and violence and crazy bikers—but also at the thrill of finally having stood up to Leo.
She kicked off her shoes and unzipped the riding leathers Jagger had brought for her. “Notice what I’m wearing? You brought these to the bar for me. Why would you think I’m girly?”
He crossed the room in two long strides and helped her undo the snap on her leather trousers. “’Cause I know what’s underneath. Hard on the outside, soft and sweet on the inside.” He slid the trousers down over her hips and steadied her while she kicked them away.
Arianne looked down at him crouched in front of her, his mouth level with the juncture of her thighs. A wave of longing suffused her body, and with it a burst of anger. Tonight was a perfect example of why she needed to get out of Conundrum. She couldn’t even go to a birthday party with her friends without some idiot bikers shooting the place up and threatening to drag her back to Viper. But Jagger was making it so damn hard to leave. He’d as good as encouraged her to shoot Leo, stood by her side as she got the revenge she had dreamed about for eleven years, and then praised her for her accuracy.
Why? Why was he doing this to her? Why had he made her fall for him just as the rest of her life was falling into place?
“You keep lookin’ at me like that, and we’ll never make it back to the clubhouse.”
“Stop it.” She stepped away. “Don’t say things that make me want you. I’m already confused. I hate being part of this violent world, and yet it allowed me to get back at Leo for what he did. And if I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have had the confidence to do that much. When I’m with you, I almost like being a biker and having biker skills. And yet, this is the life I don’t want to lead. The life that took my mother. The life that’s taking Jeff. The kind of life where you have a party, and your friends almost wind up dead.”
Jagger stood, his face smoothing into an expressionless mask. “This is your life, Arianne. You were born for this. I don’t know any other woman who could have earned the respect of the Road Kill president the way you did tonight.”
“He dropped a bandanna on the table.” Her words came out in a monotone sigh.
“It was as far as he could go. Hell, don’t you appreciate what he was saying with that gesture or what it cost him? You’re a woman. He gave you the kind of respect he would give another man.”
Her pulse quickened and she glared. “So what? I’m supposed to be grateful that he respects me? In the civilian world, women get that kind of respect every day, and they don’t have to shoot someone to earn it.”
Jagger took a step toward her and she backed away. Not because she was afraid, but because she didn’t know what she would do if he touched her. She was too wound up after the shoot-out. Too angry. Too excited. And too goddamned confused.
“You won’t be happy in the civilian world.” He kept coming, forcing her to back across the living room and through her bedroom door. Why wouldn’t he respect her space? Her need to be alone? Why wouldn’t he just go so she could start forgetting about him and move on with her life?
“You can’t carry a gun in your purse or strapped to your leg in their world. You can’t speed down the highway at one hundred miles per hour. You will struggle just as hard to earn respect from men when you try to get a job in a mechanic’s shop. But this world, you know. You have power here. The kind of power Viper fears and can’t control.”
She forced a laugh when her legs hit the wall. “Viper’s not afraid of me.”
“You defy him over and over again,” Jagger said, stopping only a foot away. “No matter what he does, he can’t break you the way he’s broken Jeff. He can’t scare you or beat you or threaten you into obedience. He can’t control you, and he’s a man who needs control.”
“Like you.” Her heart pounded as his heat soaked into her body, making her nipples stiffen so much they ached.
“Like me.” He cupped the back of her head with one hand and pulled her forward for a long, deep kiss.
And then he released her and walked away. “But not tonight.”
Her brows drew together as she watched him stretch out on her bed, wrinkling her soft pink duvet.
“What?”
He looked around the room—its soft pastels, white antique furniture, and pink sheer curtains—and smiled. “I knew there had to be pink and girly somewhere in your place. You hide it in the bedroom just like you hide it under your leathers.” He gestured to her shelves, filled with pictures of Jeff and their mom, her friends, and happier times. “You hide your heart here. These are Jeff’s paintings around the room, aren’t they?”
“He made the furniture for me, too.” Still confused by Jagger’s sudden withdrawal, she didn’t move. “He bought it used and then spent months refinishing it. He said he was happy to do it and he wouldn’t take any money from me. It wasn’t that long ago.” She gestured to the door. “I thought you wanted to get going.”
“I want you,” he said softly. “Here. Where your heart is. But not the way you think. Watching you in that bar, holding your own against Leo and a roomful of bikers, so fucking cool and confident … turned me on like nothing else. Nothing sexier than a girl with a gun except my girl with a gun.” He patted the bed beside him. “You controlled that room, sweetheart, and I’m not taking that away from you.”
“I don’t understand.”
His smile faded. “I’m a man who needs control. Always have. Always will. I need it to lead the Sinners, and I need it in the bedroom. But tonight, I’m giving it to you. I’m not saying it will ever happen again—because knowing myself as I do, I suspect it won’t—but right now I want my girl to run the show.” He folded his arms behind his head. “Do what you want with me.”
* * *
A slow, sensual smile spread across Arianne’s face as she walked over to the bed, working that goddamn skin-tight dress like there was no tomorrow. Lust soared inside him, and with it the instinctive, almost primal urge to pin his female to the bed and take her in the most primitive way to prove his dominance. But not tonight. This night he would gift her with his trust. He would rein in his need to take control. He could only hope she would understand what he was trying to say.
She stopped at the foot of the bed, and her gaze raked down his body, lingering on the bulge in his jeans. He was already hard. Hell, he’d been hard since he walked into the bar and she’d shimmied her way through the crowd. His woman. Coming to him. With the kind of confidence that could bring a man to his knees. And when she faced down Leo, squeezed that trigger, he knew he’d found the woman he’d been waiting for all his life.
He reached for his belt, and Arianne held up her hand. “No one touches what’s mine.”
Jagger growled, his cock throbbing beneath his fly. This had seemed like a good idea at the time but if she didn’t tie him to the bed, he didn’t know how long he would last.
Without taking her gaze off him, she unzipped her dress, sliding it off one arm and then the other, drawing it slowly over her curves. Blood rushed to his shaft and he shifted on the bed. When she was down to a lacy red bra and a matching pair of panties, she posed for him and twisted her lips to the side. “Hmmm. A Jagger in my bed. What shall I do?”
“You should get up here, is what you should do.”
“Bossy.” She turned and bent over, giving him a perfect view of the round globes of her ass and the dark shadow of her pussy swathed in red lace. “Maybe I’ll just tidy up my room. There are a lot of clothes on the floor.”
Jagger’s body be
gan to quake as he imagined holding her in that position, her hands on the dresser, his cock pressed against her ass. He wanted to rip those lace panties off and bury himself deep inside her. Fuck her until she came, screaming his name.
Come to me. His silent plea was rewarded with a grin when Arianne looked back over her shoulder.
“You look kinda hot. Maybe I should come up there and help you undress.”
“Maybe you should undress first.” He licked his lips when she kneeled on the bed, her breasts straining against the fine lace of her bra. “Or I can help you.”
She crawled up his body, brushing her breasts against his shaft as it strained against his jeans. With a soft sigh, she knelt astride his hips. Glorious. He ran his hands along her curves, settling them on her hips.
“Tell me what you want, beautiful.”
“Shirt off.”
He was more than happy to comply. Pushing himself to a semi-recline, he removed his cut and handed it to her, then stripped off his shirt. When he lay down again, Arianne hadn’t moved.
“Something wrong?”
She held up the cut. “Black Jack rules say only a brother or an old lady can babysit your colors.”
“Same with the Sinners.” And if that didn’t get the message across, nothing would.
Arianne stared at him, and her cheeks flushed. Then she carefully folded his cut and placed it on a chair beside the bed. As before, he was surprised by the immense satisfaction he derived from her gesture. Nothing was more important than a biker’s colors. Except maybe the woman who knew how to handle them.
She returned to her position and he lay back on the pillow and licked his lips. “Do I get a reward?”
Arianne laughed and leaned down, running her tongue between his lips before diving in deep, tangling it with his own in a hot, wet kiss that made his balls ache with pleasure.
“Good reward,” he murmured against her lips.
“That was the appetizer.” She slid down his chest and flicked her tongue over his nipple. Jagger groaned at the exquisite sensation and curled his hand around the back of her head, undecided whether he wanted to pull her away or hold her in place.
“Hands back.” Her quick shallow breathing told him she wasn’t unaffected by her sensual torture, and although he had to grit his teeth to let her go, he did as she asked.
Moments later, she was kissing her way down his stomach, nestling her soft body between his parted thighs as she undid his belt and loosened his fly.
“I think I made you a promise this morning.” Slowly, painstakingly, she opened his belt buckle and unbuttoned his jeans, easing his clothing over his hips. Jagger’s cock sprang free, but that small measure of relief dissipated quickly under the warmth of her breath.
“Reward for good behavior,” she said, and then she licked him from balls to tip.
“Christ.” Jagger’s body tensed and his hips jerked, thrusting toward her hot, wet mouth. “Need to touch you.”
Arianne pulled away. “No touching. You get only what I give you. Nothing more.”
He growled, his fingers clenched against the back of his head, the muscles in his arms shaking with the effort of keeping still.
His brain fuzzed when she pumped him with her fist. He was already rock hard, his shaft hot and heavy against her palm. She stroked his length, and aimed it at her mouth. Jagger groaned and cursed himself for what was turning out to be a really bad idea.
“Poor baby,” she whispered.
“Hard baby.”
She bit her lip and looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Let’s see.”
Settling herself between his legs, she took him in her mouth, just the tip, teasing him with her tongue until he was dizzy with lust. Not wanting to spend himself too soon, and definitely not before he got her off, he lay back and thought about gaskets and tires and fuel pumps and lube. Lots of lube. Slick. Sliding. Wet.
Fuck.
Arianne released his cock and then gave him lazy smile. “My work here is done.”
With an impatient snort, Jagger slid his hand through her hair, yanking her forward, his hand clenched so tight, her eyes watered.
“Suck me, Arianne. Don’t play.”
“I thought I got to be in control.” She pushed herself up and straddled him, slipping off her bra as she rocked over his hardened length. His balls lifted, throbbed, and he felt the warning tingle at the base of his spine that told him it was almost too late.
“Condom. Now.”
She slowed and cupped her breasts in her hands, rolling her nipples between each thumb and forefinger. “I’m on the pill. Are you safe?”
He almost wanted to say no. Already at the breaking point, he didn’t think he would be able to control himself without at least a layer of latex to dull the sweet sensation of being inside her. But the alternative, denying himself the pleasure of her slick wetness, the intimacy of being as close as two people could get, was simply unacceptable.
“Doc checks everyone once a year. Last time was just a few months ago. All okay.”
“Me too.” Her cheeks flushed and she gave him a cheeky smile. “Good thing, because I didn’t want to stop.”
She impaled herself on him, sliding her slick, wet sheath over his erection, her hips undulating as she took him deep. They groaned together. Moved together. He captured her hips and angled her forward, dragging his cock over her sensitive inner flesh. Arianne panted, falling forward, her hands on either side of his head. Unable to resist, Jagger leaned up and captured her nipple between his teeth, giving it a swirling lick.
The low, guttural sound that escaped her lips inflamed him. He turned his attention to the other nipple, working it until it was a hard bud. Then he released her and eased her back, almost fevered with the need to take control and pump into her hot, wet channel.
She was almost regal, sitting astride him, her back straight, breasts thrust high, long hair spilling over her shoulders. So beautiful, his heart thundered for her, pride swelling his chest.
“Mine,” he breathed.
Her eyes sparkled and then she bent down to kiss him. “Yours,” she whispered.
She rocked over him, spreading her knees to take him deeper, driving his steel against her sensitive tissue. Sweat beaded on his brow as he strained to hold back. But when he slid his hand down her hip to her throbbing nub, her hips jerked. Slow became fast, and he lost his last ounce of his control.
“Jagger. I can’t—”
With a rumbled growl, he tensed, then flipped their bodies, threading his fingers through hers, pinning her wrists to the bed, gazing into the emerald eyes that had captured him the moment they fluttered open outside his burning clubhouse.
“I have so many flaws, I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” he murmured. “But you are perfect. You have fire, you have soul. Your strength and resilience amaze me. Your gentleness and kindness humble me. Your beauty takes my breath away. If I could have only one thing in this life, it would be you.”
“You have me, baby.” She arched against him as a groan tore from her throat. “I need you.”
“You need me.” He dropped his weight to hold her still, just enough for him to regain control. “Next time, I’m going to spank your pretty ass to punish you for all your teasing.”
“Now you’re the one who’s teasing.”
He slanted his mouth over hers, angling his body to rub against her clit, and then he thrust deep and he thrust hard. Arianne’s body bucked beneath him, and she moaned into his mouth as she came, her pussy pulsing around him, squeezing him until he was mindless with the need to move. He hammered into her, drawing out her orgasm. Pressure built at the base of his spine, and he joined her in release, tearing his mouth away to bellow as he pumped deep inside her.
After they had both come down, he rolled, pulling her over his chest. “I thought I did pretty good letting you take over. I almost made it to the end.”
Arianne laughed, the sound muffled against his shoulder. “Not even close. Bu
t I appreciate your effort. I like having an MC president under my control, if only to see him suffer.”
“Don’t get used to it.” With all the passion he felt inside, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
“I could get used to this,” she whispered.
He didn’t know what else to say. He had given her all he had to give. Short of begging, he didn’t know what else he could do to convince her to stay.
EIGHTEEN
The president shall be the sole arbiter of all matters not covered in the club bylaws and constitution. His word is law.
“She’s not a spy.” Jagger shoved the laptop across his paper-strewn desk and glared at Zane. “I thought she’d convinced you she wasn’t a Jack when she fired at them to save Bandit. And shooting Leo should have sealed the deal.”
He glanced up to make sure the door was closed. The study he had commandeered as an office was the only room in the clubhouse that wouldn’t need significant renovation. Dark wood shelves lined the walls, a contrast to the light oak desk and matching credenza. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the backyard, where the target Gunner had pinned up for the shooting demo was still visible through the trees.
Zane folded his arms and leaned back in the visitors’ chair. “You can’t deny the evidence in those surveillance photographs from the clubhouse fire. And it’s not just me. After the incident at Riders, I had a chat with the Road Kill president. He’d pretty much figured Viper never intended to patch them over after Leo showed up at the bar instead of Viper. But he did spend a lot of time in their clubhouse, and he knew all the Jacks. I showed him the surveillance photograph, and he said he was ninety percent sure it was Jeff. Apparently, they don’t have many blond Black Jacks.”
“All that proves is that Jeff was there.”
Zane heaved a sigh. “Jeff and Arianne were at the clubhouse together. Seems likely he’s either our arsonist or Cole’s shooter, or both. Given the relationship, it’s possible Arianne was involved after all—a lookout, maybe, or a distraction?”
Jagger waved a dismissive hand in the air. “She hates them. She hates Viper. Her whole life has been about getting out of Conundrum. I’ve spent more time with her than any of you. If she were a spy, I’d know.”
The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 Page 23