The Beginning—A Duet: Ryder & Two Worlds Colliding (18 page)

I leaned down and pulled her panties down her legs. “Step out,” I commanded. I needed these for later. I was keeping them.

My cock slid into her and I sighed, kissing her neck. My hands found her tits and squeezed as I slipped my cock in and out of her.

I pulled hard on her nipples, wanting to make her cry out. I had to punish her for making me want her so much that I ached all over when she was gone, and even more when she was close. She was my drug. Princess had hooked me with her smart mouth and sweet pussy. I couldn’t get enough, and now she had to pay for that.

“God, Ryder. Harder,” she groaned, pushing her ass backward.

Fuck. She was enjoying it.

I gripped her throat and squeezed, my free hand slipping to her clit and strumming it with my thumb while I held her body down against the cold countertop with my weight.

Jade was mine. I owned her. I owned her pussy and her orgasm.

Princess couldn’t scream my name out loud with the others in the house. But the way her body shook, I knew she would’ve if I didn't keep her quiet.

“Grip my cock with your pussy. Make me come,” I croaked as I rode her at breakneck speed, fucking her hard, my balls slapping against her perfect ass.

She did. Her pussy milked my cock as she rode her orgasm, gasping for air as I possessed her completely, even controlling how much air she breathed.

Jesus. This woman was perfect. Perfect for me.

B
ack home in my bed, I ran earlier events through my head again. After I’d succumbed so easily to Ryder, against my better judgment, I knew I had to get out of there as fast as possible, or I’d end up in his bed—again.

Mia and the kids stayed in the main bedroom with Cobra—I’d heard the kids laughing and chattering. It would be a while before they were ready to share their time with anyone outside their close little family unit.

I hadn’t planned on seeing Ryder, although, in all honesty, I was hoping he’d be there. My disappointment at not seeing him when I picked up the kids made me decide not to get my hopes up, just in case he wasn’t around when I returned. It was my lucky day when I found him lazing by the pool. He was like honey, and I was the bee—I couldn’t have resisted him even if I’d tried.

Tossing around in my bed, I knew I had to explain to Ryder why I couldn’t keep on seeing him. That it wasn’t because I was a snob or looked down on him.
Because I didn't any longer.
Shame washed over me as I remembered how I’d treated Ryder when I’d first met him. He was right—I’d acted like a bitch. But I had reasons.

Good reasons
. One of them was because of my dear brother. My heart squeezed when I thought of him.

There was nothing cheerful about Harrison Summers. The permanent scowl on his handsome face only softened when he was at home, around me, and our parents. I loved Harrison with all my heart—he was the best brother a girl could wish for. Except that he was overbearingly protective, ever since the day of
The Incident
.

It took years of therapy to shake the guilt that it was my fault, and that I was to blame that Harrison was like this. Although it took place nearly ten years ago, whenever I had a flashback, it was as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday.

Ryder insisting on being in my life had brought on just such a flashback. I sat up, bewildered, images rushing through my brain.

No, please, I don't want to remember . . .

Huddled against the headboard, my knees drawn to my chest, I rocked myself as tears streamed freely down my cheeks.

***

H
arrison kissed Amy and swatted her on the ass. “Go ahead with the others, babe. Get into the long line at the entrance. We don’t want to be late for the concert. Jade and I will catch up.”

He turned to me and laughed. “Hurry, Sis, you’re going to make us late. Go get your sweater—I’ll wait right here for you.” I was always losing stuff and luckily Harrison was patient with me. Love for my big brother surged through me—he knew me so well.

I nodded and ran back into the fast-food restaurant to get the sweater I’d accidentally left behind. It was my favorite; I’d be crushed if I lost it. Besides, it usually got cold in the evenings, and at outdoor events and I'd need it to keep me warm. Harrison and his other friends had girlfriends to cuddle with if they were cold. I was alone.

It was my first live concert, and adrenaline spiked my bloodstream—I didn’t want to miss a second of Karma Electric, they were my favorite band. I swiped up my sweater from where it had dropped on the floor.

I was lucky my parents had agreed to let me go to the event with Harrison on a week night, so I didn't want to spoil his evening. And I’d hoped Harrison would invite me again the next time he and his buddies went to a rock concert. Those were the perks of having an older brother. My friends at school were all jealous that I’d get to see the dreamy new lead singer of the band before they did.

“Got it?” Harrison shot me an impatient glance as he crushed the cigarette with his foot. I never knew my brother smoked till tonight.

“Yeah. Sorry. It was on the floor.”

“Put it on before you drop it again.”

Harrison chuckled as he watched Amy blow him a kiss, and tore his gaze away from the little group halfway across the large opening to help me dutifully into my sweater.

Gunshots rang out.

Both our heads jerked toward the ominous sound. What we saw would scar us for life. Both of Harrison’s friends and their girlfriends were mowed down, including Amy. I screamed so loudly that I couldn’t hear Harrison’s words to me, but his expression told me to stay put. I couldn’t have moved if I tried to, I was frozen to the spot. Pandemonium broke out around me. People were screaming hysterically, and running around blindly. I watched Harrison run across the patch of grass, reaching Amy just as the cops did.

Amy and the other four were caught in the crossfire between a biker gang and the police. Four were dead, and one survived. One of his friends, Michael, got shot in the knees, and fell down before more bullets could kill him.

Amy had been shot through the heart, and died minutes later in Harrison’s arms.

It was biker bullets that killed Amy and Harrison’s friends. With little regard for the lives of others, they’d shot at the cops who’d recognized them.

Harrison wanted to die. Said he should have been there with Amy. That if he had his arm around her, she may still have been alive. I shuddered at the thought—it would’ve meant my brother would be dead.

If it weren’t for me, both Harrison and I would’ve been with the group, but we may have been further along, avoiding the crossfire altogether. All it took was a few seconds to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was ALL my fault.

I should’ve been dead.

And Harrison wished he was.

Even now, after all these years.

***

T
he images had faded somewhat over time, but my heart was still breaking for the loss of those innocent young lives. I rubbed at my heart, trying to lessen the physical pain. Life would’ve been so different if that hadn’t happened.

From that day on, Harrison had hated bikers. He’d made it his life’s mission to stamp out biker clubs and crimes associated with them. Cleaning up the streets and banning groups of bikers from public places was what he dreamed about, because he never wanted an incident like that to repeat itself on innocent victims.

I got that.

Hell, I was on his side. We both recognized the gangster type immediately and had a strong aversion to anyone who was a biker in a MC. They were the scum of the earth.

Until Ryder.

Until I met a man who outwardly portrayed every one of those traits. I should hate him and his kind for what they did to Amy and the others. For what they did to me, and to Harrison.

Yet I couldn’t hate Ryder. Underneath that hardened exterior was just a man, one who had his own burdens weighing him down. Who the hell was I to judge him and his kind? I knew nothing of their pain or their reasons for being what they were.

But how could I explain that to Harrison? He wouldn’t even listen. For as stubborn as I was, Harrison was tenfold more so.

My head hurt from all the thinking. I had to get through to Ryder that we could never see one another again. That what had happened on the back of his bike and in the kitchen were a moment-of-madness mistake we couldn’t allow to be repeated.

My heart ached. It was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever done—to deny myself the feelings that flooded my being when I thought about Ryder Knox.

He felt them too—I didn't need a crystal ball to know that. Ryder never apologized for telling me blatantly just how much he wanted me, in every carnal and lustful way. There was a magnetism we couldn’t deny, a pull stronger than logic permitted. We were so different, yet we fitted so well together. It was beyond reasoning. Beyond anything I’d ever imagined. Not even the romance novels I consumed could have prepared me for this.

But I had to sacrifice my feelings of lust for Ryder because there no good could come of it. We were doomed from the start.

I. Had. To. Choose. My. Family.

Why had Ryder chosen Clarke and Sons Agency that day?

And why in hell could he not just let go? Move on?

And why, oh why was I so drawn to him, so weak when it came to resisting him?

Why?

Still bewildered by my emotions, I became aware of a strange noise. It reminded me of when I was a teenager and boys threw pebbles against my window. Then it dawned on me—that was exactly what it was. I scooted off the bed to the window as another pebble hit it smack in the middle of the glass. What little delinquent was pranking me at this time of the night?

I pushed the window open and gasped. Ryder was standing there in the darkness, a lopsided grin on his handsome face.
Fuck
. This was worse than when I was a teenager. Back then I was too innocent to know better. A boy beneath my window sent my heart aflutter. Now other parts of me were fluttering, way down south from my heart.

“Let me in,” he demanded, his arms folded over his chest.

“Shhh,” I gestured, then shook my head.

“Fine,” he muttered and walked away. What? Was he giving up that easily? He disappeared out of sight around the corner, without any further protest. I was pretty disappointed, but it was better this way. I didn't want him to see that I’d been crying. I wiped my nose with my sleeve and crawled back in to bed.

I closed my eyes, confused even more. Why had Ryder come here? Why had he left without even trying? Was he finally listening to me? And did I really want him to?

“Fuck, Princess. You’re killing me.” Ryder stood in my doorway, his silhouette in the dark visible by the light of the moon.
Was I dreaming?

“Ryder! W . . . what? H . . . how?” I switched on the bedside lamp.

“If you won’t let me in, I’ll let myself in.” He grinned, his gaze raking appreciatively up my semi-naked body. I was wearing only a tee and panties.

“But . . . but the doors are locked . . . and we have alarms . . .” Had Daddy forgotten to lock up?

Ryder chuckled softly. “Babe, nothing will stop me if I want to get in somewhere. Breaking in is an undervalued skill, and definitely one of my many talents.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Yeah? And did you poison the Rottweiler?” Mom had insisted on having a trained guard dog. It made her feel safer. Bruno was alert and fierce, yet I hadn’t heard him growl or bark as he usually did when strangers came to the house.

“The pup and I are friends. I’m definitely not going to be his breakfast.” He sat on the bed, watching me.

My eyes widened. Bruno was a muscled brute of a dog; he hadn’t been a puppy in five years. How had Ryder gotten past Bruno? He didn't take kindly to strangers.

“
Princess
. You’ve been crying—tell me why.” His voice was hoarse, yet soft.

My throat was still thick, and tears sat just behind my eyelids, ready to spring forth again. I couldn’t speak. I wanted Ryder here more than anything, but I also wanted him to leave, for his own sake. I was so confused.

“Baby,” he said softly as he pulled me to his chest.

God it felt good. And the way he said the word
baby
, with the slightest dip in his voice as if he were affected too, made it sound sexy and comforting at the same time. My breath hitched—he’d called me baby—not babe, not bitch, not Princess.
Just baby
. And I loved it.

I let him hold me, let him stroke my back, soothing me while he hummed. This was a side of the tough, badass biker I doubted anyone had ever seen. Was he even aware he was doing it?

“Why did you come?” I whispered, my breath catching as I spoke.

“I’ll tell you . . . if you tell me why you’re crying,” he countered.

I fell silent for a long time, organizing my thoughts. Ryder kept rubbing my back, placing no pressure on me but waiting patiently for me to reply.

At last I spoke. It was as if the floodgates opened. I told him the whole story.
Everything.

Ryder listened, only grunting occasionally, his fingers making small circular motions up and down my spine. I inhaled deeply, drawing his scent into my nostrils and basking in his warm embrace. He’d comforted me and lulled me into a relaxed state.

“Um, Ryder?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Now I’ve told you the whole story—why did you come?”

He was quiet for the longest time, but never resting his fingers. “Because I needed to be near you. Because I can never get enough of you. That’s why.”

He shifted down the bed, holding me in his arms. My head rested on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“Sleep baby, I’ll hold you. It’s all OK. That shit happened a long time ago. None of it was your fault. None. You gotta let that go. OK?”

Drowsy, I nodded my head. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Why, I wasn’t sure. All I’d done, was tell Ryder my and Harrison’s story; the story I’d hidden deep inside for so long, trying to bury it. Yet now that I’d set it free, it no longer weighed as heavily on me.