The Billionaire Biker

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The Billionaire Biker Page 5

by Jackie Ashenden


  Her cheeks got hotter. “I like green.”

  His gaze met hers. “I remember.”

  Such a simple statement and yet there were so many undercurrents. Her green dress, the one she’d bought especially for that graduation party, ripped in half on the floor. The unexpected weight of him on her. The unexpected pain. The shock of seeing the boy she’d been friends with for so many years changed into a stranger. A hungry, desperate stranger.

  Making love with him had been intense. Powerful. For the first time in her life she’d felt beautiful, felt wanted. And she’d realized in that moment that it wasn’t just a crush she had on him, but something more. Something deeper. Love.

  “But don’t worry,” he said softly as the elevator reached his floor. “I’m not planning on ripping it or anything.”

  She shivered, pushing away the painful memory. Burying it. “I didn’t think you were.”

  Sean didn’t reply, merely stood to one side as the doors opened, waiting for her to go first. Always with the courtesy, that was Sean.

  She stepped out into the most incredible hotel suite she’d ever seen.

  Soaring windows gave 360-degree views over Manhattan, while a thick, cream-colored carpet covered the floor. The walls were wood paneled, the furnishings had accents of red, intricate chandeliers hung from the ceiling to emphasize, no doubt, the height of the room. Over near one cream-colored chair, on a polished wooden coffee table, a can of beer rested, along with a scattering of peanut shells and a magazine with what looked like a naked woman spread over a bike plastered on the front.

  Sean walked past her, his heavy boots not making a sound in the carpet, the chains on his belt jingling. “I’ll go get changed. You can hang out here. Help yourself to whatever you like from the minibar.”

  She blinked, fully appreciating the weirdness of a guy in a faded T-shirt and ripped jeans, tattoos all over the place, staying in a $45,000-a-night hotel suite.

  “You have ten minutes,” she called after him.

  “I’ll be ready in five.” He was already peeling off his T-shirt and dropping it negligently on the floor as he went, giving her another flash of his angel tattoo.

  Abby turned sharply away. She didn’t need to see that again. Or the broad expanse of his naked back.

  She should be thinking about this party. About preparing Sean for the questions people would ask because he’d answer any such questions with his usual bluntness and that wouldn’t do. She’d wanted to have some media training organized for him before the party but Sean had refused. He’d told her needed some more time to get his head clear.

  It hadn’t been ideal but she hadn’t wanted to deny him that.

  You may have had five years to deal with it but for me it feels like five minutes.

  Guilt settled in her stomach and along with it the dull ache of an ever-present anger. Guilt that she’d piled it all on him, then kissed him as well. Anger that he’d dared to compare his pain with hers. That his five minutes had somehow been more important than her five years. When he’d been the one to leave. Ahem. Aren’t you supposed to be over this?

  Abby swallowed. Yes, good point. And she was. Completely over it.

  “I need your help again.”

  His voice sounded so close behind her she almost jumped. The carpet must have silenced his footfalls entirely.

  She turned around and found him standing not far from her, dressed in the dark blue suit and crisp, white cotton shirt he’d tried on a couple of days earlier. He held out a tie, striped in different shades of blue. “Here.”

  Ah, dammit. Every time she thought she preferred him in jeans and a T-shirt, he had to go and put on a suit and make her change her mind.

  “You look great,” she said, taking the tie from him. “But I need to give you lessons on how to tie a tie. I can’t be there every time you need help.”

  “I’m not going to be here that long.”

  She flicked a glance up at his face, a small curl of something she refused to call disappointment twisting inside her. “Oh? I thought—”

  “I’m going to stay, Abby. But only as long as it takes to do your job with me for the ground-breaking ceremony and that’s all.”

  For some reason that didn’t make her feel any less disappointed. “What about Jax’s offer?”

  “I said I’d give it a week.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. He’s giving me a couple of ‘orientation days’ or some shit like that to start with. Then I’m going to be sitting in on a meeting. Can’t think why. I’m not a desk kind of guy and I don’t exactly have the college degree for any of that high-powered negotiating bull.”

  Abby looped the tie around his neck, unable to resist the urge to brush her fingertips against the warm skin of his neck. “Well, I don’t have a degree, either. But I’m not doing too badly. I’m moving on to a new job after this and I’ve already been short-listed for a couple of interviews. You don’t need a degree to do a good job, Sean.”

  He lifted his shoulder in another of those noncommittal shrugs. “I’m not a businessman.”

  “What did you do in the gang then?”

  “It’s not a gang, it’s a club. I was an enforcer. Got people into line. Made sure they upheld the rules and didn’t diss the club.”

  “What did you do if they did?”

  Something steely entered his gaze. “I made obeying the rules more attractive than not obeying them.”

  Ah. “You beat the crap out of them, in other words?”

  He glanced down at her, dark eyes completely opaque. “Sometimes.”

  “But not all the time?”

  “Beating the shit out of people isn’t as much fun as it looks.”

  Sympathy twisted hard inside her. Sean was a protective kind of guy, and on more than one occasion she’d had to talk him out of going to her father and beating him senseless after something hurtful her father had said to her. But he’d never been a gratuitously violent kind of man.

  Abby laid her hands on his chest. “That must have been hard. Having to do that.”

  “I preferred to talk it through with people first. Violence was a last resort.”

  That sounded more like the Sean she knew. She spread her fingers on the warmth of his shirt. His body had tensed, but he didn’t move away from her. “Why the club, Sean?” She didn’t know where the question had come from since, really, did she care why he’d chosen it? That had been his decision and it was too late to do anything about it now.

  “Because they didn’t care about me being a Morrow or otherwise and they didn’t ask questions. They had my back and I felt like I belonged there. They were like a family, except better.”

  She could understand that. God, if she’d ever found anything similar she would have been there like a shot. But there hadn’t been. Not for her. “So why did you leave them?”

  “They were starting to get into things I didn’t want anything to do with. Drugs, guns, shit like that. I thought it was time to move on.”

  Like she was. Moving on. Moving forward.

  Except you’re not, are you? You’re still hung up on him.

  Warmth engulfed her hands as he gathered them into his large, warm palms. And heat shot down her arms, moving as inexorably as the tide, flooding her body in a heavy wave that left her short of breath.

  “You shouldn’t be touching me, sweetheart,” he said softly.

  How long had it been since she’d touched someone like this? Since she’d been held by someone? Since she’d been kissed and made to feel beautiful by someone?

  Five years. Five long, lonely years.

  She’d stayed away from men after Sean because she’d never learned how to keep sex and emotion separate, and part of being strong was making sure she didn’t leave herself emotionally vulnerable. But that didn’t mean she didn’t miss that physical connection.

  And you’ll keep on missing it. Until you put him behind you once and for all.

  She stared at his fingers wrapped
around hers. He would always be there. That night would always be there. Unless she did something about it. And logically there was only one “something” she could do. Yes, keeping sex and emotion separate was difficult for her, but then she’d never really tried it since he’d left. Maybe it was time she did. After all, she was stronger now, so much stronger than she used to be and far, far less vulnerable.

  Abby looked up at him, met his guarded dark eyes. “What would you say if I asked for one night with you?”

  * * *

  Sean frowned, not sure if he’d heard her properly. “One night? What are you talking about?”

  “Going to bed,” she said. “Having sex.”

  He was holding her hands in preparation for removing them from his chest because he couldn’t think when she was touching him. But shit, he couldn’t seem to think now.

  Abby naked on the floor under him …

  “I thought we’d agreed there was too much history.”

  “No, you decided that. I’m thinking it might be a good idea.”

  He released her, took a step back, his body aching at the loss of her warmth. “Why? After what happened last time?”

  She shifted on her feet, the light through the windows at her back shimmering over the green material of her dress. The color looked amazing against her pale skin. Pity it brought back so many bad memories. Of that look in her eyes, that expression on her face. As if she’d found heaven and he was it. And the fear that had filled him in that moment. The suffocating panic. Because he wasn’t her heaven. He wasn’t anyone’s heaven. He was a bad kid that no one wanted and eventually she’d come to understand that.

  Just like every other person in his life had.

  “I think that’s exactly why we have to do it again,” she said in a calm voice. “Because I think we can make some good memories this time. Good memories for us both. Don’t you want that? Just good sex without all the messy emotional crap?”

  “I hurt you, Abby.”

  “Yeah, and then you left. Maybe if you’d stuck around after we could have turned it into something good. But you didn’t give us the chance.” Again that note of anger in her voice. The one she kept insisting wasn’t there.

  She’s right. You didn’t.

  His heartbeat had begun to accelerate, a low pulse of heat gathering in his gut. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

  “Bullshit. I was there remember? I know exactly what I’m asking for. In fact, I’m even going to go as far as to say that you owe me.”

  “Owe you? How the hell do you figure that?”

  “It was my first time. And we were drunk, not exactly the best way to start off. Then to make matters worse, you up and left without any reason at all.” She sucked in a breath, the fabric tightening over her small, round breasts. “I want the first night we should have had, Sean. Sober and without you running away. All the physical good stuff without the emotional hangover.”

  His cock had already begun to harden, fully on board with what she was saying. Fucking idiot that it was. He couldn’t do this. Not with her. Didn’t she understand why it was such a bad idea? “You don’t need me to give you that. You can find that with any guy.”

  “I don’t want any guy.” Her delicate face had a flush to it, the green of her dress reflected in the glitter of her eyes. She’d always been beautiful, and even though this wasn’t the Abby he remembered, she still made him ache. “I haven’t … I haven’t been with anyone since you, did you know that?”

  Holy Christ. Did the woman have to keep coming out with these fucking bombshells? Because he sure as hell didn’t know how to deal with them.

  Raising a hand he pushed it distractedly through his hair. “What the hell? Why? Because I left? Jesus, Abby, don’t tell me I ruined sex for you for life because of that.”

  “You think it’s all about the fact that you ran away?” Anger sparked to life in her face. She took a step toward him, coming right up close. “Did you ever think that making love with you was the most incredible experience I’ve ever had? That perhaps I wanted more from you than watching you leave?”

  This was the honesty he’d wanted from her. Pity it hurt like a bastard.

  “I had to go. You deserved better.”

  “It wasn’t about me and what I deserved, Sean. It was about you. About what you could and couldn’t handle. I just happened to be the last straw.”

  “That’s not true,” he said hoarsely.

  “Of course it’s true. You think you’re so honest? Well, why don’t you start being honest with yourself for once?” She came even closer, so they were inches apart, the subtle, expensive perfume she wore making his head spin. “You want this just as much as I do, don’t deny it.”

  Of course he did. Desire for her was beginning to burn, violent and sharp and hungry. It had been wasted on too many other women he didn’t really want, and now it did not want to be denied.

  Dangerous, so dangerous. Like his life in general, he preferred his sex hard and rough. There was something satisfying in the violence of it, in the same way that beating the shit out of someone was satisfying. An outlet for his anger and frustration. And he always chose women who liked it like that, women who could handle it. Who wanted it.

  Not women like Abby.

  “You don’t want me,” he said harshly, fighting the need that clawed at his guts. “You want someone who’ll take it slow and easy. Who’ll be gentle with you. And there’s no fucking way I can be gentle with you.”

  Her chin came up. “What kind of crap excuse is that? Maybe I don’t want gentle. Maybe I don’t want slow and easy.”

  “Jesus Christ, you couldn’t handle it last time. You cried, remember? What makes you think you can handle it again?”

  “I cried because I was a virgin and because you made me feel beautiful. For the first time in my whole life.” Abby took a final step closer so they were toe-to-toe. “Anyway, you have no idea what I can handle. Especially when you never stuck around to find out.”

  Fuck.

  He should be turning around and walking away because nothing good could come of this. Nothing good ever came of whatever he did.

  She wants it, though, and you owe her.

  Yeah, he did owe her. Big time. Jesus Christ.

  His hands were on her hips before he’d even realized he’d moved, his fingers pressing hard, feeling the heat of her body beneath her dress. Then he was walking her back, propelling her across the room to the long, glass dining table that stood in front of the windows, no thought in his head but to make her stop pushing him. Because his self-control was only so good and she was testing every inch of it.

  He eased her back against the edge of the table, then put his hands on the glass on either side of her, caging her. Overwhelming her with his height, with his bulk. Yeah, he was being a prick, but telling her to back off clearly wasn’t working, so he had to try something more forceful. Scare tactics used to do the trick in the club, so maybe she needed a bit of that. She certainly needed to be reminded of why doing this with him was such a very bad idea.

  “You really want to dance with me like this, little girl?” he growled. “Because I don’t think you do.”

  A flare of pure green lit in her eyes, a heat that had nothing whatsoever to do with fear. “What, you’re trying to scare me off now?” Her voice was breathless, excited. “It won’t work, Sean. Don’t forget, I know you.”

  No, she didn’t. She didn’t have any idea. She’d never seen the anger that used to eat him up inside. At the way the adults in both of their lives had betrayed them. At the helplessness he felt at not being able to do a single fucking thing about it.

  And she hadn’t seen because he’d kept it hidden, made sure no one ever knew. Because if he let it out he knew something terrible would happen.

  “You don’t know me, Abby. The things I’ve done…. You don’t fucking want to know … ”

  She didn’t push him away, didn’t try to move. The pink flush to her cheeks had
deepened and her breathing had quickened, the pulse at the base of her throat beating fast. “Show me,” she said thickly. “Show me what I should be so afraid of.”

  Christ, had he ever royally screwed this one up. On every level. Because now he was here, her soft, pliant body pressing against him. And she looked like … she wanted him to do it. Do every bad thing he’d ever thought, dreamed, or fantasized about.

  Impossible. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t. “I will hurt you,” he said, enunciating every word. “I will fuck the living daylights out of you and I will do it hard and I will do it rough. And then I’ll leave. Because I’m a prick and I’m not staying, sweetheart. You’d better understand that right now.”

  But she lifted her arms and wound them around his neck, her body arching as she did so, increasing the pressure of her hips against his groin. “Threatening a woman with a hard screw is not the way to frighten her off. At least not this woman. You won’t hurt me, Sean. I’m much stronger this time. Besides, I don’t want you to stay. All I want is one night. One night to put the past behind us and then move on.”

  He couldn’t hold out. Not against the sweet reality of her in his arms. It had been too long since he’d had this and it was useless to pretend that he didn’t want what she was offering.

  Her mouth was right there, inches away from his, so he lifted a hand to the back of her head and held her still. Then he covered that mouth with his own. She melted into him like toffee on a hot stove, lips parting, letting him in, and he devoured her, gripping her tightly so she couldn’t move. Couldn’t get away. But she gave no sign of wanting to, meeting his kiss and giving it back, as hungry as he was.

  His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back, and not gently either. She made a sound in her throat as he kissed her deeper, her hands in his own hair, tugging herself.

  Goddamn. She hadn’t been aggressive last time, only wrapped her arms around him as he’d done what he’d wanted with her. But this … She pulled hard on his hair, jerking his head back to kiss his jaw, his neck, pulling at the tie she’d just knotted to get it loose before yanking at the buttons on his shirt, exposing his throat. Then she kissed him there, hot and burning, before sinking her teeth into the sensitive area between shoulder and neck.

 

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