“At least that’s something because I’ve got to say, Jem, if you’d gone there just to get your dick wet, I’d let Wade beat your scrawny arse bloody.”
I blush at his choice of words, while Jem lets out a growl.
“A little respect, Lo. I will smack you if you talk about my woman like that.”
“Your woman?” Logan’s brows raise. “You love her?”
My heart stops.
Jem grunts under his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ. Are you done with this inquisition? Are we going to braid each other’s hair in a second? Start talking about how to win over our girl in thirty days?”
“Shut up, you daft prick. Just answer the fucking question.”
I don’t breathe. I also don’t think Jem will answer with me standing right next to him. He doesn’t seem to care about this.
“Yeah, Lo, I fucking love her. She’s mine, I’m claiming her, putting my patch on her back, my ring on her finger, my babies in her belly. Whatever the fuck else you want to say.”
My body freezes at his declaration, but also soars. He wants all that with me? I fight back the panic that tries to spark to life and drop my hands to my hips.
“As declarations of love go that was terrible, Jem Harlow.”
He turns to me and grabs the back of my neck drawing me in for a kiss. “You want hearts and flowers, angel, I’ll give you hearts and flowers.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Can you even do romance?”
“I’m offended. I’m the king of romance.”
“That’s my cue to leave,” Logan mutters.
Jem’s mouth comes down on mine. He doesn’t plunder, he’s soft, gentle—he has to be, my face is a swollen mess and my lips are split from being hit. He’s mindful of this fact as he tastes me.
“I want you in my bed, on my bike, in my life, Piper. I’ll give you anything you desire.”
“I want you too.” I touch my forehead to his. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Epilogue
Two weeks later
“It looks like Santa threw up in here.”
I glance around the room and scowl. I might have gone a tad overboard with the decorations. Okay, I’ve gone completely over the top. Jem’s living room is like a grotto. Aside from the tree, there’s tinsel covering every available space, lights twinkling over the fireplace, and even a full-sized nutcracker standing near the hearth. He’s going to have an apoplexy when he gets home.
I turn to Cami, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”
Her brow arches. “Darling, I think you could put a giant inflatable reindeer dick in here and he wouldn’t bat an eye, as long as you’re smiling. The man is smitten.”
I wrinkle my nose at her and consider the room, wondering what I can remove to tone it down, but it looks so good.
Maybe I can lose the mini North Pole scene…
“I had a buyer put in an offer on the loft this morning.”
I snap my gaze towards her. “That’s brilliant.”
“Yeah.” She sounds glum.
“It’s not brilliant?”
She sighs and drops onto the sofa. “I don’t know, P. I don’t know what to do. Staying in Manchester without you seems pointless.”
I pause, clutching a fake reindeer statue in my hand. It’s two weeks until Christmas. Cami’s been staying since the attack and abduction, mainly because she can’t go home looking like she went ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer. Her bruising is fading, as is mine, but neither of us look back to normal yet, despite the fact it’s been a fortnight since Merrick’s men snatched us from the loft.
A shiver runs through me as memories flash across my mind of that terrible event. Jem’s been good at keeping me level since. I’ve moved in with him, staying in his terraced house in Kingsley, since he more or less claimed me the moment we got back into town, but I wonder who is keeping Cami level. She hasn’t mentioned Spencer, her tumultuous relationship. I surmise they may be in an ‘off-period’ of their on-and-off relationship.
“Why don’t you just move here, Cam?”
She glances at me. “I can’t just follow you around forever like a stray dog.”
“Why not? I’ve followed you around for years.”
“I don’t know. Isn’t it kind of needy and pathetic?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Just move to Kingsley. If you need help finding a place, Jem’ll help. He has contacts.” I lift my fingers and do air quotes on contacts. “Or so he’s told me a hundred times in the last fortnight.”
Every time I need something doing, he’ll tell me he’ll get a contact to sort it. I need my things moving from Manchester to Kingsley… he’s got a contact. I need to quit my job… contact. I need to get a Christmas tree… well, you get the point.
The man thinks he’s a Don.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to step on your toes.”
“Nonsense. I’d love to have you here. These people are crazy. I need an ally.”
I hear keys in the front door and my stomach fills with butterflies. Jem’s home.
“I like that look on your face,” Cami tells me, her voice soft.
“What look?” I ask as I fix my skirt and top.
“The happy one. It’s been a long time.”
A warm glow goes through me. “He’s a little bit good for me, but don’t you dare tell him I said that. He already thinks he’s God’s gift to the universe.”
I snap my mouth shut as he steps into the living room looking absolutely delectable. He’s wearing his kutte, as always, his jacket beneath and a pair of thick gloves. He’s got a beanie hat on his head, which he’s in the process of tugging off as he takes in the room with a frown.
“Fuck me,” he mutters. “Angel—”
“Do you want me to take it down?” I cut him off.
He meets my eyes and whatever he sees in my face has him shaking his head. “No. Fuck no. You like it, it stays.”
He pulls me into his arms and presses a kiss to my forehead before taking my mouth.
“Okay, I’m going to head into Kingsley and do some Christmas shopping,” Cami says. “Jamie said she’d meet me.”
I love that she’s making friends. It will make it easier for her to move up here, but I wish she’d pick better friends from the group. Jamie is a bad influence. Even so, I say, “Be careful and stay out of trouble.”
“Always.” She turns to Jem. “Be good to my girl.”
“You know I will.”
As soon as the front door shuts behind her, Jem turns back to me, his hand skimming over my hip. “I had no idea you liked Christmas so much, Pip.”
“I don’t.”
“So, what’s with all the decorations?”
“I have no idea. I just wanted to make it special, I guess. It’s our first Christmas together.”
He captures my mouth, his tongue licking inside mine. I open up, giving him access, nipping at his lip as he does. “It’ll be special,” he says between kisses, “because you’re here and we’re not sneaking around anymore.”
“Hmm.” He works down my neck and I pant as he hits a sensitive spot. “I must admit, I do miss our clandestine meetings. There was something very sexy about you dragging me into shadowy hideaways to fuck me.”
His hand skims up my thigh and under my skirt to cup my pussy. I tense, gasping as he touches me, everything pulsing between my legs.
“If you want me to keep doing that, Pip, all you have to do is say.”
He pushes my underwear aside and his fingers slide through my wetness before pushing inside me. I grip his shoulders as he tunnels into me, widening my stance to give him better access. It feels good, too good.
“Jem…”
“Shush, angel. Take what I’m giving you.”
I do take it. I take it all. He pushes his fingers deeper inside me even as he nibbles along my neck, up to my ear, licking and kissing the shell, driving me crazy as he gets to the spot just
behind it that sends me wild. I’m practically sagging onto him as he finger-fucks me into oblivion and when I come around his fingers, I yell garbled nonsense into his ear.
“Are you okay to do this?” he asks.
Am I still hurting is what he’s really asking.
I am recovering, am still bruised, still aching, but he’s barely touched me like this in a fortnight, and I’m hungry for him. I need him.
“If you stop now, I’m going to kill you.”
Chuckling, he hooks his arms around me and lifts me carefully up his body. Then he carries me over to the dining table and lies me back on it. Baubles go flying, and I start to protest, but he silences me with a finger to my lips.
He pulls his jeans down. His boxer briefs disappear next and he’s standing in front of me completely naked. I take a moment to appreciate his body. And it is a body worth appreciating. His ink is amazing and covers most of his torso, a good proportion of his arms and he has a little on his legs too. He’s sexy as hell.
“What are you waiting for?” I demand.
“Well, angel, you’re wearing far too many clothes. I’m feeling a little exposed here.”
“Get over here and rectify it then.”
He doesn’t need telling twice. He does just that. My skirt is first to go, pulled down my legs and pooled in a heap on the floor. My top follows next. He pauses for a moment, taking stock of the bruises along my ribs.
“Piper…”
I grab his hand. “I’m okay,” I tell him, and I mean it. I am.
“It takes weeks for cracked ribs to heal. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
I take his hand and place it on my aching breast. “Just go slow and don’t do any gymnastics and we’ll be fine.”
He squeezes my tit. “You need to stop, you say, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Jem, I plan on just lying here and letting you do all the work. I don’t plan on hurting at all.”
He laughs. “You’re a nut.”
“I must be to love you.”
“Angel, you’re the one who turned our living room into the North Pole. That shit cuts both ways.”
He runs the tip of his cock through my folds then enters me. I whimper, widening my thighs and gripping the edge of the dining table as he pushes deeper inside me. The burn of his intrusion settles into something else, something more pleasurable as my body takes him. Then he drags his cock back and pushes back into me. He makes love to me slow and steady, his eyes locked on mine as he does. His fingers work down my arms and find mine, tangling together as he brings our joined hands over my head.
“You’re mine,” he tells me as he circles his hips, driving his cock deeper inside me. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I agree.
He leans down and kisses me, and it’s a kiss that says more than words can. It’s a kiss that tells me what I am to him.
“Love you, angel.”
“I love you, Jem.”
The clubhouse is busy when we get there. I’m surprised, given it’s only a couple of weeks until Christmas and I know everyone is busy getting ready for the holidays—well, the girls are anyway. I don’t think the boys have even noticed.
Slade and Clara are sitting together by the bar, but they appear to be having an argument. Clara looks mighty annoyed, while Slade looks like he’s about to throw a hissy fit. Eventually, he storms off. I wonder if one of us should go and say something to her, but she leaves herself.
I kiss Jem’s cheek and head over to the girls. Jamie passes me a gin and tonic as soon as I sit. Liv, who is at least eight months pregnant now, shifts uncomfortably.
“This not drinking over Christmas malarkey is going to suck,” she complains.
“Just have a wine. It won’t kill you,” Jamie says.
“No, but Dean might kill you for suggesting it,” Beth tells her brightly.
Jamie puts her straw between her pink glossy lips and sucks back a huge amount of drink before saying, “Good point.” Then right out of the blue she says, “So, you and Jem.”
I nearly choke on the sip of gin I’m taking. “What about me and Jem?”
“You know if I’d known you were secretly screwing him, I would never have said all those things I said about him at Liv-Liv’s baby shower, right?”
I stare at her. “Come again?”
Jamie leans across the table and stage-whispers. “You know, about how hot he is and how much I want to get in his trousers.” Her eyes roll slightly. “Well, I mean, I might have said it. The man still is hot, even if he’s hooking up with a sister, but there’s a code. You don’t cross it with a girl’s guy, you know?”
I’m not sure I do know.
“I think,” Sofia says, “what my esteemed friend is trying to say, and doing badly, is she wouldn’t have been a slutty potty mouth about my brother if she’d known you were boning him at the time.”
Jamie mulls this over then nods vehemently. “That about sums it up.” She grabs my hand. “I’m really sorry. I love Jem… like a brother. A really sexy, hot brother who I crush on frequently, but I would never break the sisterhood. Hoes before bros. Always.”
I smile at her. “I have no idea what anything you just said means, but okay.”
“Great.” She beams then frowns. “I’m just checking Adam is still okay to drool over, right?” When no one says anything, she glances to the ceiling and mutters a, “Thank God,” before adding, “I’m going to get another drink, and see if I can find Weed and a couple of the prospects. They’re usually up for a game of strip poker and it’s so easy to get Weed naked. He’s really bad at poker, although he thinks he’s not.”
Cami’s eyes light up. “That sounds intriguing.”
I stare at my best friend like she’s grown two heads.
“What? I’ve never seen a biker naked.” She leans towards me and whispers, “You don’t get to have all the bloody fun, P.”
I watch them go off, shaking my head.
“So, how are things going with you and Jem?” Beth asks and I shift a little uncomfortably. Mainly because Sofia is sitting at the table. Thankfully, Mackenzie is at the bar with my brother and Paige, so I don’t have to deal with both Harlow sisters giving me the third degree.
“It’s going fine.”
Beth arches a brow. “It’s going fine?”
“Better than fine,” I amend. “Things are wonderful.”
Sofia snorts. “Jem’s an overgrown child. You can say it.”
“He’s irritating beyond belief at times,” I admit, my eyes gravitating across the room to where he’s standing talking with Logan and Derek, the Club’s president, “but that also makes him endearing.”
“Annoying is the word you’re looking for. But someone had to put up with his shit. Rather you than me.”
My phone buzzes and I glance down at it, still shaking my head at Jem’s sister’s words. I know she loves him really—at least I hope she does.
As I swipe the screen, cold clenches around my heart. It’s a message from my mother. Both her and Grant have tried to contact me a few times since Jem saved me. I’d like to say they were concerned about my safety, but I think they were mostly worried I might go to the media with my story.
When I open the message, I expect it to be the same sort of thing as before. It’s not.
MUM: I’m outside the gates of the clubhouse… place. If you don’t meet with me, I’m coming in.
What. The. Heck?
I stand abruptly and the girls have to steady the table as it wobbles with my movement.
“Piper? Is everything okay?” Beth demands.
“No. No, it’s not.”
She can’t be here. Why would she come? I know she can’t get inside. Logically, I know this. There’s security, but my heart is pounding. Surprisingly, my first instinct isn’t to fix this myself. In the past, it would have been. No, my first instinct is to find Jem.
I push around the table, mindful not to knock the table into Liv as I pass her, and I
push through the crowd until I reach Jem who is laughing at something his brother is saying.
I grab his arm and his eyes come to me. The warmth fades as he catches my gaze and his smile dies.
“What’s wrong?”
“My mother’s here.”
His whole face turns to granite. “Here, where?”
“At the gate. She messaged.”
Jem scrubs a hand over his chin. “I’ll handle it.”
I grab his bicep before he can take off. “No, I don’t want you to handle it.” At his questioning look, I add, “I want you to come with me while I handle it, please.”
He stares at me a beat and then nods, “Okay.”
He hands his pint glass to Logan, who says, “Do you need me to come with?”
“I think we’ve got this.”
Jem slips his hand into mine and we walk outside together. I feel a little anxious but with him at my side, I’m less scared.
“She says anything nasty, I’m just going to say, Pip, I might kill her with my bare hands.”
“She’s probably going to be very nasty,” I warn him. “Just ignore her.”
We head to the gate at the front of the clubhouse, passing the security booth. King pops his head out, confusion playing across his face, but Jem gives him a chin lift, which has him stepping back inside.
There’s no sign of her at the gate and I glance at Jem, unsure. But after a second I hear the sound of a car door further up the road and see her and Grant coming towards us. Jem growls low in his throat, and I place a hand on his chest.
“Try to stay calm, honey.”
“I’m not sure I can promise that, Pip. Your stepfather’s a piece of shit.”
This we both agree on, but I still say, “He’s nothing to me anymore, Jem.”
We watch as they approach, wary, and I think Grant’s grateful for the gate between us.
“You’re fucking brave coming here, Hollander,” Jem growls.
“I didn’t think you’d bring your watchdog out with you,” Grant says to me, but I feel a hint of satisfaction at how nervous he looks.
“He’s not my watchdog. He’s my boyfriend.”
Forbidden Rider: A Lost Saxons Novel #5 Page 37