by Jani Kay
“Your pussy? Last I checked you had a cock.”
“You are mine. That means your pussy is mine. And I want it now.”
“Ryder . . . always so horny, baby. I need a shower and to get dressed. I want to at least look pretty—first impressions and all that stuff.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Ryder growled. “Look pretty for me. I don’t want Max getting any ideas.”
I swatted his arm. “Silly boy, of course I’ll be pretty for you. But I do want your brother to like me too.”
“He better not like you too much. That’s war.”
I rolled my eyes. “Too much testosterone. It's the biggest problem our universe faces.”
Scooping me up from the bed, Ryder carried me to the bathroom, straight into the enormous glass-enclosed shower. “I think this shower was meant for two people with its twin rain showerheads.” He set me down and opened both sets of taps. “I've been wanting to get under here since we arrived.”
Soaping up his hands, he glided them up and down my body, then with small circular motions he washed my breasts and stomach as I pressed my back against his chest.
“Babe,” he groaned, “spread those legs for me.”
He washed my pussy, then circled my clit with nimble fingers. “Such a dirty girl,” he hissed as he pushed his cock into me from behind.
“Ryder, harder,” I groaned as I reached out and placed both palms against the glass to keep my balance. His fingers entwined with mine as he fucked me.
I loved how within a few strokes we got our rhythm and moved our bodies in unison until we both let go, and ripples of our orgasms tore through us as we declared our love for one another.
“Fuck. That was good, babe,” he said as he pulled his cock out with a deep, satisfied sigh. “We’ll get a shower like this when we build our own house.”
I turned and soaped my hands to wash his cock, laughing. In a sing-song TV commercial tune I sang, “All good and clean and fresh, tra-la-la.” I winked. “All ready for later.”
“Princess, you’re insatiable. I fucking love it.” He grinned.
As we dried ourselves, I couldn’t help thinking what a lucky woman I was. Ryder made me happy. It was priceless.
Leaving Ryder in the bathroom, I pulled on a black halter-neck dress and matching uber high heels, sans underwear. I twisted my hair into locks and swept them to one side over my shoulder. Add dangling earrings and red lips, and I was ready for a night out with my man.
Just as I sprayed perfume around my cleavage, Ryder emerged from the dressing room wearing black slacks only.
“Fuck me, Princess, you’re definitely not wearing that out tonight.”
I twirled for him. “Why, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Not pretty enough?”
He frowned. “Too fucking sexy. Every man who sees you will have an instant hard-on. And I don’t want Max drooling over you.”
“Seriously? I'm wearing this tonight—for you.” I smiled, twirling a blond lock around my finger as I licked my lips seductively. Men are so easy to please.
“Princess, how the hell do you expect me to keep it in my pants? I just wanna rip it off already and we haven’t even left the room. Maybe I’ll just call Max and tell him we’re staying in?” He lifted an eyebrow as if that was a serious question.
“Ryder, you can rip the dress off when we get back, okay? But now we are running late and Rebecca hates that. So get a shirt on and let’s go.”
He groaned, and turned to get a shirt, but not before lifting the dress and biting my ass cheek. I squealed, the simultaneous pain and pleasure making my pussy clench.
“Damn, I may need panties after all,” I mumbled as I found some in the drawer.
“Yeah. I'd prefer you having underwear on when meeting Max. I’ll take them off later.”
“Promise?”
“Guaranteed. And the best part is, you won’t know when I plan to do it. It will be our little game.”
He slipped on a crisp white dress-shirt and did up the buttons. My mouth gaped as I watched. Ryder had never looked so smart, so edgy and so delectable. The shirt stretched over his muscles, hiding his ink, and with his hair loose and sexy around his face instead of the ponytail I was accustomed to, it made me swallow hard. If Ryder was worried about men checking me out, I was doubly so about women coming on to my sexy-as-sin biker. He exuded raw sexual magnetism in every move he made; I was the one who was going to have a hard time controlling myself.
“Like what you see, Princess?” He smiled at me with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
I nodded. “Oh, yes. Very much.” He slung his jacket over his shoulders. Fuck me. Literally. Now I was the one who wanted to stay in and screw the rest.
I took a few steps closer till I was standing directly in front of him. I reached out and grabbed his balls in my hand. “And just so we are clear,” I said while I narrowed my eyes at him, “these are mine. You are mine, so this cock is mine.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, Princess, I love when you own it.”
“Damn straight.” I snorted, squeezing hard so he could feel the pain.
Chapter Sixteen — Jade
Maxwell Grant was everything I’d expected and more. Tall and elegant, with broad shoulders and a square jaw, he was imposing at first glance, yet his smile was warm and genuine, quickly putting me at ease.
“Jade, I’ve heard so much about you, I feel as if I already know you.” Maxwell took my hand in his and kissed it while Ryder stood by, watching closely, his arm possessively around my waist. I batted my eyelashes and smiled.
God, what a catch.
“Same here. Between Rebecca and Ryder, I think I know your life story,” I gushed.
Maxwell laughed, an easy, relaxed sound. “Is that right?”
He reached out and grabbed Ryder’s hand and pulled him into a man-hug. “Great to see you, brother,” he grinned, “and I see exactly why you are so . . . besotted.”
My cheeks burned. What has Ryder told Maxwell about me?
“Let’s have a drink before we go,” Maxwell said as he walked to the elegant dark, wooden bar in the far corner of the living room. Ryder steered me after his brother, his hand possessively on the small of my back. “What can I get you, Jade?”
“I’ll have a white wine please,” I said as I slipped onto the sleek chocolate-colored leather stool.
“Jack?” Maxwell asked Ryder, lifting the bottle to pour.
“Sure. Reminds me of our teenage years.” Ryder laughed. Max slid the glass over the smooth wood toward Ryder. I watched both men while they chatted casually, very much at ease with one another in spite of being separated for most of their lives.
“Ryder, I'm glad you came. We have serious business to discuss. And I have a few propositions that I think are a good match for your . . . skills and talents. Come to the office at three tomorrow afternoon so we can talk, okay?”
“Sure, Max. That’s partly why we came. The bits you told me over the phone were intriguing. I definitely want to find out more.”
Five minutes later, Maxwell glanced at his watch. “Time to go. We are picking Rebecca up in fifteen minutes. Although it's only a few blocks away, the traffic can be a nightmare.”
“We’ve noticed.” I laughed, happy to not be driving.
I pushed to my feet, ready for a night out on the town. Ryder helped me into my jacket, giving me a sweet kiss and a hug before we followed Maxwell to the elevator.
As the driver pulled the limo into the stream of traffic amidst honking horns, Maxwell opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and made a toast to our visit. We made small talk all the way, but Maxwell was restless, peering at his watch every few minutes and tapping his fingers on the back of his cell phone impatiently.
When we got to the hotel, Maxwell jumped out and asked us to wait in the limo. Ryder sounded relieved to stay put and I leaned back, my head resting on Ryder’s shoulder, just enjoying being there with him and soaking it all up. He caressed my hand in small ci
rcular motions, the way he always did when he was slightly out of his comfort zone. Driving around in “coffins,” as he and the MC boys called limos, was not on Ryder’s Fun Things To Do list. I leaned over and held his face in my hands, and kissed him sweetly on the lips.
“Princess, you take my breath away. I’m glad you came.” He gave me a lopsided smile before he pulled me to his chest.
The limo door opened and Maxwell helped Rebecca into the back before following her in. We hugged and laughed and chatted away as Maxwell refilled our champagne glasses.
Ryder had nothing to worry about, because as soon as we picked my cousin up from her hotel, it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist for Maxwell. He only had eyes for Rebecca—any fool could see he was head over heels in love with her. Yet he kept his manner professional and friendly toward her.
Rebecca was cool toward Maxwell, but the attraction between them was obvious; they kept looking at one another when they thought no one was watching. A few times I caught Maxwell wiping a strand of hair off her face, or just touching her arm as he talked. He leaned toward her, his shoulder brushing up against hers.
Where the hell is his wife? What happened to the famous model chick he was married to? If there was one thing I planned to do while we were in New York, it was to get to the bottom of this undeniable “thing” between Maxwell and Rebecca.
“Here we are,” Maxwell said as the driver pulled over to the curb.
We stepped out of the limo and straight into the entrance of the Empire State Building. My ears popped as an elevator whisked us up to the ninety-seventh floor to the new revolving restaurant that was Maxwell’s latest project, opened only three weeks ago. So excited to see the views from the large floor-to-ceiling windows, I didn’t at first notice that the place was virtually empty, except for the smiling staff.
“It's all ours tonight.” Maxwell said as I sucked in a breath at the cityscape below. “Now you can stroll around and see the views from every angle. In fact, each course will be served from another table until we have done a full circle.”
Ryder rolled his eyes. “Really, Max, this is crazy.”
Max patted Ryder on the shoulder. “No, not really. I just wanted everyone to relax tonight. Eat, dance . . . have fun.”
“Dance?” Rebecca and I said in unison. Oh yeah.
Ryder groaned, and went to sit at the bar. He ordered a beer, and took a few sips, his eyes trained on me. Cosmos were waiting on the counter for us girls.
“Like a tour, ladies?” Maxwell grinned proudly and held out his arms. Rebecca and I hooked in on either side of him, each with a cocktail in hand as we wandered around the vast space, admiring the views, while Max pointed out the various buildings.
By the time we got back to Ryder, he was onto his second beer and a frown had appeared between his brows.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I whispered in his ear. I glanced around; Rebecca and Maxwell were nowhere to be seen. Looked like it was just Ryder and I.
“Fuck it, Princess. I’d rather be back at the apartment stripping you of that dress than watching you wearing it all night,” he growled. He took my hand and placed it on his erection. “See what you do to me?”
I kissed his cheek and laughed. He was adorable when he was a little jealous, although I'd given him absolutely no reason to feel insecure.
“Well, you could take me on the dance floor,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at him.
He laughed. “Mmm, tempting offer, but I wouldn’t want an orgy. Only you, babe.”
“That can be arranged.” I smiled.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Just wait till after hors d'oeuvres . . .” Taking a step closer till I was up against his chest, I took his hand and slipped it beneath the fabric of my halter-top. He cupped my breast and squeezed before running his thumb over my hard nipple, eliciting a groan from both of us.
“Fuck, woman, that’s why I love you so much. You always surprise me.” His voice was low and husky and his bad mood instantly vaporized.
“Just remember that, big boy,” I grinned, “and be nice at the dinner table to earn your reward.”
Not caring if anyone saw us, Ryder gripped the back of my head and leaned in for a kiss, twisting my nipple as his tongue darted into my mouth. “Oh, baby, I'm so wet,” I moaned, squeezing my thighs together. The scrap of fabric I was wearing was hardly enough to soak up my juices—I should have brought spares.
A cough behind Ryder reminded me that we weren’t alone.
“Wow, you two, get a room.” Rebecca laughed. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes glistening. Where had she and Maxwell disappeared too? A minute later, Max appeared by her side, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“The first course is ready. I'm sure Ryder is hungry?”
I adjusted my dress before turning around and following them to our table.
Chapter Seventeen — Ryder
If it weren’t for my rumbling stomach and the wafts of delicious aromas circulating the air, I would’ve ignored them and taken Jade somewhere private. I’d noticed the large unisex bathrooms designed for couples and wondered if they’d been used for fucking yet. I was happy to be the first—but judging by Max’s grin and the deep crimson glow of Rebecca’s skin, I reckoned we were beaten on that score.
“So Ryder, what do you think of the place, huh?” Max asked. He didn’t need my approval, so I knew he had another reason for wanting to know.
“Yeah, it's good . . . but way too flash for my tastes.” He asked . . .
“I was expecting that response. But why I really brought you here . . . I’ve been thinking what a great idea it would be if you opened a restaurant in L.A. A real legitimate business.”
“Fuck no. I'm not running a joint like this.” I indicated round me.
Max laughed. “No, idiot. That’s not what I meant . . . I’m talking about a steakhouse . . . with biker-style steaks and beer.”
Jade shrieked with delight, her eyes wide and shiny. “Oh my God, that’s genius, Maxwell. Ox makes the best steaks—I freaking love the idea.”
“It's a really good idea to use your talents to make money for the club. Running a business isn’t easy, but it's a good way to earn income,” Rebecca said, ever the career woman.
I shook my head. They were talking pipe dreams. “Nah. Cobra will never go for it. Plus you need cash to start these things. Club is strapped at the moment with all the shit that’s gone down.”
“That’s why I’ve asked you to come to the office tomorrow. I have a proposal—I think you’d call it ‘an offer you can’t refuse’?” Max grinned at me. Fucker had something up his sleeve and now I was curious as hell.
“Let me sleep on it. We can bash it out tomorrow,” I said, staying guarded. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that something could actually come from this idea. But Max wouldn’t fuck with me, would he?
Jade held on to my arm, a grin splitting her gorgeous face. “Oh, I think it's exciting. I could help you with real estate and legal stuff. I’d be your wingman. Think about it—for us, Ryder.”
“Yeah, babe. I will. Now where the fuck is the food?” I held up my knife and fork like I meant business.
Two minutes later, right on cue, four waiters carried in fancy fucking silver domes over plates. They placed them in front of us and then with a whoosh, removed the lids at the same time.
I was interested to see what the fuck they had served up. With a raised brow I glared at the food on my plate: artistically stacked crisps arranged around dollops of meat with three drops of sauce on the side and green leaves.
Jade and Rebecca clapped their hands in glee. I just groaned. All this fancy shit when I was hungry didn’t appeal to me.
“Steak tartare with pommes gaufrettes.” Rebecca gleamed. “My favorite.” The way Rebecca said it in her French accent made it sound a hell of a lot better than it looked.
“I don’t see any fucking steak . . . just raw mince and a raw fucking egg. What happened, the oven broke?” Th
ey expect me to eat this shit?
Jade laughed. “That’s what the dish is called, Ryder. It's finely minced beef—served raw.”
“It's the best in the world—certified organic Angus beef from Australia. Thought my gir . . . er, Rebecca would appreciate something from the land Down Under.”
I raised a worried eyebrow. “Fuck, Rebecca, they don’t know how to cook in Australia?”
“No, silly. The beef is from Australia. The dish is a classic,” Rebecca said, educating me on fine dining.
I watched the others dig in, nodding their approval. Was I that hungry and desperate I’d eat raw fucking meat?
“Where’s your spirit of adventure, brother? You live on the edge every day, but you can’t stomach a bit of uncooked meat?” Max was having a great time at my expense.
“It's the fucking egg wobbling on top,” I said as I shook my plate to prove my point. They all laughed at me, enjoying my predicament.
“Certified organic too.” Max grinned.
I held up my hand and beckoned the hovering waitress to the table. I held up my plate to her. “Tell the cook to sear this on both sides, fry the fucking egg, place it between two buns, and bring it back here. With ketchup and real fries.”
Maxwell nearly choked on his raw meat. Or was it the egg?
The waitress swallowed hard and shot him a nervous glance. He broke into laughter and nodded. She scurried off with my plate, no doubt telling the chef of my unrefined tastes.
Max lifted his glass to make a toast. “You’re a classic, Ryder. That’s what I love about you, brother. You can take the biker out of L.A.—”
Jade pushed her plate back, grinning sheepishly. “That’s all I needed to do to get my meat cooked?”
“You used to love steak tartare, Jade?”
Jade held onto her stomach. “I know, but tonight it's just making me queasy. The smell—”
Rebecca’s curved eyebrows nearly shot to her hairline, but she didn’t comment. What was all of that about?
The waitress returned with the fucking domed plate and placed it in front of me. I pushed her hand away and opened the lid myself. My stomach was eating itself from hunger and whatever was under the dome smelled like heaven.