Forbidden Beauty (Coffin Cheaters Motorcycle Club) by Abriella Blake

staring
me down: we were officially behind enemy lines. The way things stood, we
couldn't be seen together and live to tell the tale.
    “My boys are headed to their secret camp outside Kendall as
we speak. They won't let a rider fall alone.” The biker contemplated the bottom
of his glass, all the warmth apparently drained from his gaze. Was it my
imagination, or did he sound sorry? Yet again, I was insecure about how much he
wanted me. How much he was willing to risk. There was this dance to the bloom
of our relationship—half the time I felt I had him, half the time I felt I was
being played. But I couldn't stop.
“So everything...everything's a lot more serious, now,” I muttered. I shifted
in my boots. “It's kind of unfair, really. You and I were just getting to know
one another, and now we're on opposite sides of a war we didn't start.”
    “Oh, baby,” the boy said. “Didn't you hear? All's fair in love and war.” Then, like the sonofabitch was sealing a deal, Knox
winked.
    Once I got outside, I let loose a breath I hadn't even
realized I'd been holding. I made a quick mental to-do list: first up, write my
sister, then continue with my Den Mother duties, then find some way to
keep the council from hearing about the raid on Scotty's bar and drawing their
own terrible conclusions...and all this while avoiding whatever fresh hell was
terrorizing Miami. Not to mention trying to keep my feelings for a certain
tall, dark, handsome stranger out of the mix. My imagination flashed: I was
tied up, a limb for every corner, flush against a four poster bed. My ankles
and wrists hurt where I was bound. Knox, sweating in a leather vest and pants,
was straddling my waist. His words still rattled in my head: I will fuck you
like you've never been fucked...
    I thought of his face, looming above me. He just had the
most perfect face—human, intelligent, raw, tough. The adorable curve to his
nose...
    But hey, I was tough, too. For all I wanted to be dominated
in bed, I knew from that moment on that I would protect Knox with every fiber
of my considerable power. No MC would take another man away from me. As God was
my fucking witness.
    Feeling strong, I clambered aboard my Street Bob. I started
the engine, and enjoyed the familiar thrill of those motor sounds vibrating
through my bones. I pressed myself down against the seat, hard—and realized I
was still wet and primed from my near-orgasm, moments before. What else had
that man promised me? I will be so hard, every part of you will curve to my
dick... Tossing my long hair so it tickled my back, I began to push myself
against the thrumming engine. I ground myself against that seat I was so used
to, imagining all the while that I was gripping that muscular man between my
legs. I bucked and bucked until I felt the space between my thighs grow even damper
than before. I rode my Street Bob in place, my imagination teeming with the
bound scenario—the thrusts of fiction. His cock had been so fucking thick, so
perfect...the feel of his rough fingers around my throat, or cupping my breast,
or squeezing my ass. Oh, I wanted him to leave marks all over me. I pressed
myself harder and harder into the leather of the seat until I came—suddenly,
and hard. And for a moment, in the throes of my ecstasy, I hoped that he could
hear my thrilled sounds from inside that little cabin. I wanted to be driving
him as crazy as he'd managed to drive me.
    Moments after I'd finished, I kicked away from the ground.
My whole body was pulsing as I let the wind streak through my helmet-less hair.
And I thought, Fuck you, to the whole of the damaged, sordid world. The
whole of the world—every member of the Coffin Cheaters, the Knights of Styx—they
could go fuck themselves. I didn't want to fight; I just wanted to spend as
many evenings as possible talking shit on a couch with a man who made my knees
weak. I wanted everyone to burn, except for him and me and maybe my twin
sister.
    All's fair in love and