Page 8 of Marked by the Protective Biker (Heat & Ink)

EMILY

“What are you sorry for?”

We’re halfway through dinner, and I can’t stop myself from asking him again. He never answered me before.

He wipes his mouth with his napkin and then puts a hand to his belly. “This was so good, Emily. Thank you for dinner.”

I try not to show my disappointment. I guess he’s not going to answer me. “You’re welcome. You know, anytime, I’ll cook for you. Or we can cook together. You helped a lot.”

He sits back in his chair and stares at me. I fidget in my seat under his scrutiny. When he finally opens his mouth, I hold on to the edge of my seat, waiting for his words. “The reason I said I was sorry is because I shouldn’t have let your neighbor think we were together.”

I open my mouth and then close it. “Oh, uh, is that what you were going to say earlier? You’re sorry for that?”

He nods his head. I lay my hand on the top of the table, next to my plate. I trace a mark in the wood with my finger. He leans forward and covers my hand with his.

The warmth of his hold has me holding steady waiting to see what he’s going to do next. “Emily, you don’t know how much I wish things could be different. I wish I was different. But I’m not the man that you need.”

I turn my hand over and grip on to him because I can feel him withdrawing. “You don’t know what I need, Jack.”

He pulls his hand from mine. “Felon. People call me Felon.”

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to call you that, Jack.”

He shrugs. “It’s what I am.”

I shrug as if it means nothing. “It’s not who you are, though. It doesn’t define you.”

He doesn’t believe me, and I know I’m about to lose him when he stands up and grabs our empty dishes. I try to stop him. “I can get those.”

He ignores me and carries the dishes to the sink. I finish clearing the table and come to help him as he loads the dishwasher. He seems deep in thought, so I continue wiping off the counter, letting him work out whatever it is he needs to work out.

I am not ready for him to leave, but it’s not like I can beg him to stay.

He is drying his hands off, still avoiding me, and I lean my back against the counter beside him.

He tenses, and it gives me a little boost of confidence that I can affect him like that.

He grips the edge of the counter until his knuckles turn white.

He’s going to run. I know him well enough to know that.

But I can’t let him do that yet. I put my hand on his forearm. “Jack, what’s your plan here? You say we can’t be together but what? You’re going to keep watching me and protecting me? How long do you plan on doing that?”

He blinks as if there’s no question. “Forever.”

I blurt out a gasp. “Forever? That’s crazy talk, Jack. You’re not going to watch me forever.”

He just stares at me, and I shake my head. “Okay, why? Why are you doing this?”

His voice is husky and filled with emotion. “Just because I can’t have you doesn’t mean I won’t protect you.”

I slide over toward him until I can feel his warmth at my side. “But you can have me.”

His eyes darken, his nose flares, and he sucks in a harsh breath. “Emily…”

He says my name like a prayer, and there’s a brief flare of hope in his eyes, and then it’s gone. “I can’t have you. No matter how much I want you.”

He’s sincere as he says it. He really truly believes that there can’t be anything between us, but I refuse to just give up. “Okay, so here’s a question. You and your club are just going to watch me?”

He nods.

I cross my arms over my chest. “And what’s going to happen when I bring a man home? Are you?—”

He growls, interrupting me, and I can’t stop the smile from forming on my lips. “Yeah, you’re just going to stand outside my window to protect me? Are you going to be okay with what happens inside? What about when I get pregnant and have kids?”

“Stop.” He grunts. “Stop talking.”

He’s on the verge of losing it, and I move so I’m standing in front of him. I put my hands at his waist and lean into him. This is not me. It’s not who I am, but the thought of just letting him walk out of here is making me do things I’d never do. “Kiss me.”

His hands go to each side of my face, and I think he’s going to do it, but he just stares at me, devouring me with his eyes.

I bring my own hands up and cover his. “Jack, if you’re not going to let us be together, then give me this. One night, that’s all I’m asking for.”

He croaks, “One night.”

I can’t tell if it’s a question or what it is, so I nod my head. “Yes, give me this. Please, Jack.”

I can see the instant that he lets himself give in. The pained look on his face transforms into a look of possession, and he lifts me up into his arms. My legs circle his waist as his lips crash onto mine. This kiss is nothing like the last one.

There is no fear of getting caught or thoughts of making it quick. He takes his time, stroking his tongue along my lips until I open to him.

He tilts my head, taking my mouth in a kiss that I feel through my whole body. He pulls back gruffly. “Bed?”

I try to pry myself out of his arms, but he’s not letting me go. I laugh. “Are you planning on carrying me?”

He nuzzles his beard along my neck. “Yes.”

“Ahh,” I moan. “Through the living room. Down the hall. Second door on the right.”

He’s on the move before I get it all out. He kicks my bedroom door open with his boot and steps into the room. He doesn’t look anywhere but at me as he sets me an arm’s length away from him. I’m unsteady on my feet, and he holds on to me until I’m balanced and then lets me go.

“Are you scared of me?” he asks.

I put a hand on my hip. “If I was, you wouldn’t have been invited into my house, Jack.”

He lifts his hands and then lowers them. “And you’re sure about this? I don’t have anything to offer you, Emily. No tomorrows.”

I want to beg, plead, and convince him that we can be together, but he’s not going to listen, and right now, I just need to know what it feels like to be with him. I can worry about the future later.

Without second-guessing myself, I lift my shirt over my head and toss it across the room to the chair. His eyes go round as he watches me put my hand in each side of my waistband and then pull my dress pants down my hips. As I step out of them, Jack takes a step toward me.

His hands go to my waist, and his fingers grip me tightly. “No regrets.”

I let my hands trail up his chest, and then I loop them around his neck. “No regrets.”

He pulls me to him, flush against his body.

His hands are everywhere, and when he undoes my bra, I suck in a breath. As soon as he exposes me, he cups me with his big hands. I arch my body, needing to be closer to him.

He leans over me, kissing my neck, and when he sucks my erect nipple into his mouth, I almost come apart. He moves to my other breast, kneading and suckling me, and I know that after tonight, I’m not ever going to be the same.

His hands dip into the front of my panties, and he cups me. My hips jerk as he works his finger between my wet, swollen folds.

I’m gripping his shirt. “Jack, please,” I beg him.

He releases me long enough so he can remove his shirt, and then his hands are back on me, and he pulls me against him.

My hands go to his waist, and I undo the button and then unzip him. He groans and then pulls down his pants and underwear while kicking off his boots, all in one swoop.

His movements are rushed, and the moment we’re skin to skin, his manhood pressing against my belly, I groan, barely able to hold back. There’s no turning back now. I want this more than ever.