Fearing The Biker

by Cassie Alexandra

  “What about cosmetic surgery?”

  “Why haven’t you had cosmetic surgery?” I shot back.

  “Many reasons. One of them being that I don’t want to forget.”

  I smiled sadly. “Funny. I’d do anything to forget.”

  “I wish you could forget, too,” he said, turning his hand over so that he now held mine.

  “You’re a good man, Jordan Steele,” I said, staring into his eyes again. I could feel the electricity between us and was exhilarating.

  He suddenly released my hand, as if it had grown hot.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, hating the guarded look now in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “You didn’t embarrass me,” he said, standing up. “I’m just tired. I’m sure that both of us could use some sleep.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost six a.m.” he answered, picking up his plate.

  “Oh. Wow,” I said, also standing up. I grabbed my own plate and followed him to the sink. “Can I help you with the dishes?”

  “No, don’t worry about it. I can handle these.”

  “Okay,” I said, looking up at him. I smiled nervously. “It was a nice talk. Thank you.”

  He stared down at me and I could tell that he wanted to say something more, but struggling with it.

  Curious, but not wanting to push anything, I bit my lower lip. “So, um, would you mind if I used your shower?”

  “Not at all. Go ahead. There should be some fresh towels in there.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” I said, turning to walk away.

  Jordan suddenly touched my arm. “Hey… it was a good talk.”

  I looked up at his damp, dark hair, which was a little messy, and had the strangest urge to touch it.

  “What is it?” he asked, giving me a curious grin.

  “I…”

  He ran a hand through it. “Let me guess, I’m having a bad hair day and it’s not even eight in the morning?”

  “Actually, it looks great,” I replied. “Your hair.” And everything else about you, I wanted to add but didn’t dare to.

  “Wow, that’s a relief,” he teased.

  I could almost see the boy he might have been, in those dancing eyes of his. The child who’d never had a mother or the true love of a father. It tore at my heart. Before either of us knew what was happening, I threw my arms around Jordan and hugged him.

  Surprisingly enough, he didn’t push me away. In fact, his hands circled around my waist and soon I felt like the one being comforted; it felt so good.

  I closed my eyes, inhaling the fresh scent of his cotton T-shirt while my cheek rested against his chest. I wasn’t sure what we were doing anymore, but I didn’t want him to let go.

  “Is this okay?” I whispered.

  “You’re asking me?” he murmured, a smile in his voice. He touched the back of my hair lightly. “I think t I should be asking you if it’s okay.”

  “I hugged you first, remember?”

  “How can I forget?”

  As we held each other, a new awareness began to spread through me. An awareness that I was deeply attracted to Jordan and the idea of us kissing, didn’t frightened me. In fact, I began to feel warm at the thought of his mouth on mine, our tongues dancing together. I let out a slow breath, keenly aware that there was a tingling between my legs. Something I hadn’t experienced for a very long time.

  Jordan’s lips brushed my temple and then he began rubbing my back. Our bodies were so close that I could feel the rhythm of his heart against my ear. It was beating quickly and I wondered if he was as attracted to me as I was to him. Then I felt a hardness press against my belly. One that was hidden behind his sweats. Heat washed through me, knowing that he wanted me sexually. Then a face from my nightmares popped into my head.

  Look at me, bitch…

  Stiffening up, I let go of Jordan and backed away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, awkwardly.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me.”

  His eyes burned into mine and I knew he saw the tears. Fortunately, he didn’t press me about them. “Okay.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Jessica left the kitchen and I finished the dishes, my mind on earlier. What had started out as an innocent hug had almost gotten out of control. I could only blame it on myself.

  Good going, dumbass.

  One thing was for certain, from the look in her eyes, she was still struggling with those inner demons. Breaker had done such a number on her that I really wanted to kill the bastard all over again. This time, make it even more painful.

  Sighing, I turned on the dishwasher and walked toward my bedroom. As I passed by the bathroom, I could hear the shower running and I suddenly pictured her standing under the water, naked. Pushing the images away, I went into my bedroom, made sure my gun was within reach, and stripped. Then I slid into the sheets and stared at the ceiling, my perverted mind returning to the beautiful woman standing in my shower. I pictured her lathering up with soap and the water streaming over her skin. I’d never seen her naked, but I could tell from the way her clothes had hugged her body, that she was perfect in every way.

  Closing my eyes, I began masturbating, imagining what would happen if I joined her in the shower. After licking her clean from her lips, all the way down to her red toe-nails, I’d pick her up and slide her onto my rod. She’d be tight and wet, her pussy grappling my cock as I slid in and out.

  I pictured her face as I went deep and pulled out, her legs tight around my waist. She’d dig her fingernails into my back, calling my name…

  Groaning at the images, I shot my seed into my hand, still imagining her beautiful body, clinging to me. When I was totally spent, I stood up and found something to clean myself with. Not hearing the water running in the bathroom, I slipped inside to wash my hands off, too. When I was finished, I opened the door and found her standing outside of the bathroom.

  “What’s up?” I asked, feeling suddenly guilty that I’d just gotten done jerking off while thinking of her.

  “I forgot to brush my teeth,” she said, holding up her toothbrush.

  “Oh. Okay,” I said, moving out of her way.

  Jessica stepped past me and stared at my naked chest. She grinned. “That’s one bad-assed tat you got there.”

  I looked down. I’d gotten the ink in my early twenties, when I’d first heard my clients call me the Judge. The artist had incorporated the handlebars of a motorcycle, three skulls, and my nickname. These days, I felt a little foolish about it. “Think so?”

  “Yeah. I like it.”

  “You have any ink?” I asked, lowering my eyes to the pink tank-top she was wearing. It was then that I noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra. Or if she was, it certainly didn’t much.

  “I have a rose and skull on my hip,” she said, turning sideways. She lowered her black boxer shorts slightly, baring the tattoo.

  “It’s cute,” I said, having trouble averting my eyes away from her chest.

  She adjusted her shorts and picked up her toothbrush again. “I got it when I was eighteen. Hurt like a bitch. Yours must have been hell.”

  “It wasn’t bad. I’ve felt worse.”

  “I can imagine. You must have a high tolerance for pain.” She suddenly looked horrified. “I’m sorry. I guess you would, after…”

  “It’s okay,” I said, with a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to apologize and I’d prefer it if you just forget about what you might have heard about my past.”

  “I will,” she said, her cheeks red. “God, why are you so damn nice? I wasn’t expecting it.”

  I bit back a smile. If she only knew that I’d just jacked off, thinking of her. She might have a totally different opinion of me. “Nice, huh? Well, you make it easy,” I said softly. “But, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What?”

  I leaned close to her ear. “I can’t have you walking around here dressed like that,” I whispered, noticing that
she smelled like sugar cookies. “Or I don’t know if you’ll still think of me as being very nice.”

  Jessica looked down and her cheeks turned even redder as she noticed the outline of her hard nipples. She put her hand over her chest. “Sorry,” she said, looking mortified. “This is supposed to have a built-in bra. Evidently, it’s not doing its job.”

  “No. If I were you, I’d fire it,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  She giggled. “I’ll do that. Thanks for the professional advice.”

  “Anytime.” I winked at her. “Just so you know, I’m giving you shit. Even as sexy as you are, I never mix business with pleasure. Hell, you could walk out here buck naked and offer yourself to me, but I’d have to decline.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Even tempted, I’d never cross that kind of line. Your virtue is safe with me, My Lady,” I said, bowing.

  “That’s very gallant of you,” she said softly.

  I smiled. “Gallant. That’s me.”

  Jessica smiled back and shut the door, leaving me alone in the hallway, with the image of her perky nipples still imbedded in my brain.

  If she only knew…

  Letting out a ragged sigh, I turned around and went back to my room.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Bitch, look at me,” growled Breaker.

  “No,” I cried, trying to get away from him. Wasn’t he dead? “Leave me alone!”

  “Jessica. Wake up. You’re okay. It’s just a dream.”

  “Stop!” I gasped, feeling his hands on my arms. He’d been chasing me through a cemetery, where all of the victims of the Devil’s Rangers had been buried, including Raptor’s mother. There was also a tombstone with my name on it and he was trying to drag me back over to the hole, so that he could push me into it.

  “It’s me. Jordan. You’re okay. Wake up.”

  Jordan?

  I opened my eyes, fragments of the nightmare still haunting me. “Sorry,” I said, staring up at Jordan, who was sitting next to me on the bed.

  “You had me worried there,” he said, smiling grimly. “You were screaming and I thought someone had broken in here.”

  Embarrassed, I looked away. “I’m sorry. I should have told you that I sometimes talk in my sleep.”

  “That was a little more than talking,” he said, smoothing the hair away from my face. “You okay, now?”

  I thought back to the times when I’d woken up in the middle of the night, my mother standing over me with tears in her eyes. I didn’t want her or anyone else worrying about me. “I’m fine.”

  “Let me guess, you were dreaming about one of those assholes, Breaker or Reaper?”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Breaker. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

  “There is absolutely nothing to be sorry about, Jessica.”

  I turned and stared at the foot of the bed, remembering Breaker’s eyes. They’d been so cold. So hateful. “I haven’t had a nightmare of him in such a long time. I guess I thought I was over them.”

  “It’s probably because of all the stuff going on in your life at the moment.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” I sighed. “Even dead that prick still has power over me.”

  “He has no power over you,” said Jordan sternly. “Don’t ever think that.”

  “He apparently still has power over my dreams,” I countered. “Because I certainly can’t stop them from happening.”

  “Nobody can. Look, it’s just your subconscious at work. The nightmares will eventually pass.”

  “Yes… I know you’re right. I just hate that they can be triggered so easily.”

  “It was violence that created them and violence that brought them back. We just have to make sure that it stays out of your life, from here on out.”

  “Moving away from Jensen has got to help,” I answered, thinking of Cheryl’s house in Shoreview, again. “I hope. At least after this crap with Kodiak is sorted out.”

  “It’s a good start.” He stood up. “And believe me, it will get sorted. One way or another.”

  “What about you?”

  He tilted his head to the side. “What about me?”

  “You must have nightmares, doing what you do.”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “How do you usually get through them?”

  He shrugged. “Like I said before, you can’t control your dreams. I guess I’ve just learned to accept them.”

  I grinned. “So, you basically roll with the flow.”

  “I guess you could say that.” He grinned back. “Just be lucky that you don’t sleepwalk.”

  My eyes widened. “You sleepwalk?”

  “It’s been awhile. Mostly when I was a kid.”

  “When was the last time it happened?”

  “It’s been a few months. I woke up in the kitchen one night, after walking into a wall.”

  I laughed. “Wow. Did you ever wake up outside?”

  “A couple of times, back when I was just a kid. But then the Old Man started locking me in my bedroom at night.” His smile fell. “Took care of the problem.”

  My heart went out to him. I couldn’t imagine living with someone so cruel. “Maybe you were trying to get away from him? In your dreams?”

  He didn’t reply, but I could tell from the look in his eyes, I was probably right.

  “Sorry,” I said, feeling foolish for bringing up his past again. “Me and my big mouth.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  I decided to change the subject quickly. “So, what time is it?”

  “About nine in the morning. You should try and get back to sleep, though. It’s only been a couple of hours.”

  “Go back to sleep?” I replied dryly, pulling the sheet up to my neck. “Right.”

  “You worried about having another nightmare?”

  “To be perfectly honest, it’s not just that. I keep thinking that Reaper is going to bust through the window any minute,” I replied, nodding toward the wall.

  “Believe me, Reaper doesn’t know where you are and if he did, he wouldn’t be alive long enough to be any kind of threat.”

  “The last time someone reassured me that I was safe, Reaper’s club kidnapped me, not less than thirty minutes later. So, you can understand why I’m not feeling very confident about anything right now.”

  “Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

  “No,” I replied, a little surprised that he’d volunteered. “You don’t have to.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind at all.”

  I bit my lower lip. “I don’t want to be a pain in the ass.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The truth is, if you can’t sleep, I can’t either, knowing that you’re frightened.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure it’s not too much of a bother? I mean… I guess I would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t alone.”

  “Not at all. I’ll go grab a sleeping bag.”

  Staring down at the hardwood floor, I could imagine how uncomfortable it would be. Making up my mind, I moved over on the bed. “Why don’t you just sleep in the bed with me?”

  The surprised look on his face was almost comical. “You’re not serious?”

  “Sure, why not? We can put a pillow between us, if it makes you more comfortable.”

  “A pillow?”

  “Yeah, and don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself,” I teased.

  He stared at me with amusement. “Tell you what, why don’t we go to my room? I have a king-sized bed. There will be more space between us. Less chance of you taking advantage of me.”

  I laughed. “Sure.”

  “Okay, then. I guess I’ll meet you there,” he said, still looking bewildered as he headed toward the doorway.

  Grabbing my pillow, I followed him down the hallway, to his bedroom. When I walked in and saw the bed, I had to admit, I was glad he’d suggested it. The mattress was a luxurious pillow-top.

  He got in first and moved over to the o
ther side. “Come on in. The water’s warm,” he said, yawning.

  I bit my lower lip, wondering all of a sudden what I’d been thinking. “It is, huh?”

  He winked. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay in the deep-end.”

  Seeing a man like that waiting for me under the sheets, half-naked and hot as hell, caused so many emotions, I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Swallowing, I got in and pulled the covers around me.

  “You okay?” he whispered, not one part of our bodies touching.

  “Yes,” I whispered back.

  As we lay there together, I suddenly felt anxious and began to babble, like an idiot. “So, nobody knows that you own this place?” I asked, cutting through the silence.

  “Just you, now.”

  “Someone could find records, though, right?”

  “The person that is on the title of this property isn’t Jordan Steele. It’s actually Samuel Larson.”

  My eyes widened. “Your nephew?”

  “Yes. I want him to have it. He’s going to need a safe place to go, someday. Especially, if he follows in his old man’s footsteps.”

  “You mean if he joins the club?”

  “Oh, he will. Raptor loves the club and his boy will, too.”

  “What are your views on that?”

  “Joining a club?” He shrugged. “To each their own. Most members have grown up in that kind of lifestyle and would feel lost without it. If that’s what makes them happy, then so be it.”

  “Your father was in a club, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You never decided to join?”

  “No.”

  I waited for him to tell me more, but he remained silent.

  “You don’t really like talking about yourself, do you?”

  “Not much more to know about me. I’m a relatively simple man, other than what I do for a living.”

  I laughed out loud. “Really? A simple man, huh? You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”

  “Why not?”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “You must think I’m gullible.”

  “No, but you are a woman,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face, “and like most, you tend to over-think things. Especially when it comes to men. Most of us are pretty straight-forward.”