Jasper: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Baby Romance Page 5

  “Who are you exactly?” I asked.

  He smiled. “That isn’t important, Marin.”

  The distance between us suddenly felt insufficient. I didn’t even think an entire ballroom between us would be enough.

  “You seem to know who I am. Knowing your name would only be fair,” I said, hoping my discomfort didn’t show.

  “I’m sure Jasper will inform you later,” the man said, tugging me to him until we were chest to chest. He bent down and pressed his lips against my ear. “I like your dress.” He swiped his hand down my spine, and then spun me away from him in the direction of Jasper. When I turned around, he was already off the dance floor and headed for the exit.

  Jasper was at my side, guiding me towards the tables along the edge of the room. “What did he say?” he asked.

  I jerked my hand away from him, tired of being directed around the room. “I can walk,” I said.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “What did he say?” he repeated.

  “Nothing.”

  Jasper stopped and looked at me. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing,” I repeated, annunciating each letter. “He asked if I was your girlfriend and said he liked my dress.”

  This answer seemed to satisfy him. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Why? Who was he?”

  “No one.”

  I stopped walking. “No, we aren’t going to operate like this. I need to know what is going on, and what I’m risking.”

  His shoulders heaved with nervous energy. “I’ll tell you when we’re in the car,” he said, casting a glance around the room.

  I noticed a few couples watching us. I couldn’t know whether Jasper was telling the truth, but he wouldn’t talk about anything illegal in front of all of these people, so I had to trust him.

  As we stood outside, waiting for the valet to bring Jasper’s car around, he kept spinning on the spot as if he were looking for someone.

  “You’re making me nervous,” I whispered.

  He stilled, and then crossed and uncrossed his arms.

  The valet was young, no older than college-aged, and he got out of Jasper’s car with a wide grin on his face. “This is an amazing car, man,” he said, handing Jasper the keys. Then he looked at me, his eyes roving slowly from my high heels to my breasts.

  Jasper didn’t say anything as he took the keys and opened the door for me. I slipped inside, grateful for the dark tinted windows.

  “So, who was that?” I asked as we pulled away, merging with the traffic.

  Jasper chuckled. “You are eager.”

  “That man knew my name, and he didn’t seem like the neighborly type. I deserve to know if I’m in danger.”

  “First things first,” Jasper said, “you are not in danger. That guy is a joke. He is all bark, no bite.”

  “Who is that guy though?”

  “He’s the leader of the Jagged Jackals.”

  I waited for him to explain further, but after a few seconds, it became clear he wasn’t going to expand. “Is that a motorcycle club?”

  Jasper glanced at me and then back to the road. “Yeah, it is. Sorry, I sometimes forget you don’t know about this world.”

  “Hey, don’t make me out to be the weird one. You are the one sentencing people to death and blackmailing your girlfriend,” I said. Throughout the evening, it had been easy to separate the businessman Jasper from the MC leader. Now, though, the line was beginning to blur.

  Jasper laughed. “Weird is subjective, I guess.”

  “What was he doing at the gala?” I asked, trying to get back on topic.

  Jasper breezed through a yellow light going at least fifteen over the speed limit. “You know the body you saw last night?”

  Last night? Had it really only been twenty-four hours? “Yeah.”

  “He was a member of the Jackals, and I’m sure Angel didn’t appreciate me killing his guy.”

  “His name is Angel?” The man was the furthest thing from angelic.

  “It’s a nickname. A bit ironic.”

  Just then, Jasper got into the far-left lane to whip around a slow-moving car in front of us.

  “Hey, that’s the turn to my house,” I said, turning in my seat to watch as the interstate ramp disappeared behind us.

  “You aren’t going back to your house.”

  “Yes, I am.” I turned to him, my dress riding up my thigh from all the shifting in my seat.

  He shook his head. “Angel was making a threat tonight. He could be following us, and I don’t want him to know where you live.”

  “So, do I just never go home? And what about Kayla? She’s home alone.”

  “Kayla is fine,” Jasper said, a touch of unexplained annoyance in his voice. “And you’ll go home tomorrow. It’s just too dangerous tonight.”

  “So, am I going to a hotel?” I asked, though I felt I already knew the answer.

  “No.” Jasper turned north towards the Woodlands neighborhood. “You’re going to my house.”

  Chapter Eight

  Marin

  Jasper’s house was as nice as I’d imagined. A wrought iron gate parted as we drove up, and we followed a semi-circular driveway up to the imposing stone house. It was all glass panes, concrete, and dark wood. Very modern and crisp. It reminded me of Jasper.

  A wooden garage door opened, and Jasper pulled inside, the door immediately closing behind us.

  Suddenly, I felt trapped. I wondered whether Jasper had brought me back to his house to do away with me the way he’d no doubt done away with others.

  “You can relax,” he said, breaking the silence as he turned off the car and got out, stretching outside the door.

  “I’m fine,” I said, smoothing down my dress, so it covered at least half of my thighs.

  “Your knuckles are practically white.” He gestured to my hands folded in my lap. “I’m bringing you here to protect you, not to harm you.”

  It was hard to imagine Jasper as a protector. Everything about him spoke of his strength and ferocity. Still, I knew I had very little choice in the matter, so I slipped out of the car and followed him. The garage was large, and in the space next to the car sat a motorcycle, all chrome and shiny black in the limited light of the garage. A matching helmet sat on the seat, branded with the crossing red horns of the Hellions.

  “The car is for work events,” he said. “If I could, I’d only ever ride the bike.”

  I’d only been on a motorcycle once as a little girl. My grandfather had one. It was bright yellow and bulky, nothing like the clean lines and aerodynamic design of Jasper’s bike. I imagined him whipping through Houston traffic on it, flying past people like a shadow.

  Once inside, Jasper kicked off his shiny black shoes by the front door, and I followed suit, leaving my heels next to the welcome mat and padding after him towards the kitchen. Wood floors stretched out in every direction, and it felt like I was in some kind of playhouse maze.

  “Big house.”

  “How observant,” he responded.

  I’d always been considered the “funny one” amongst my friends. The person with the whip-snap comebacks. But Jasper was giving me a serious run for my money. What exactly couldn’t this man do?

  Funny? Check.

  Rich? Check.

  Attractive? Double check.

  Controlling? Triple Check.

  Protective? To be determined.

  He took off his suit jacket and threw it over a bar stool in the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  I shook my head. The shrimp I’d eaten at the gala had been churning in my nervous stomach the entire drive to his house. If I ate anything else, I was certain I’d throw up.

  He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. “Me either.”

  “I’m not really thirsty, either.”

  His mouth turned down in an annoyingly sexy frown as he poured me a drink and slid it across the granite-topped island towards me. “It’s no fun to dr
ink alone.”

  “Then don’t drink,”

  He swirled his glass and then took a small sip, smacking his lips together once. “Are you always this hostile?”

  Was this guy serious? He was blackmailing me. He’d forced me to strip in the back room of his restaurant – basically, the least sexy place on Earth. He’d killed someone. How did he expect me to act?

  “Am I supposed to fawn all over you?” I asked, taking a sip of the bourbon despite my earlier protests. It felt like silk going down and had a hint of caramel.

  He shrugged and sat his glass down to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, exposing his golden chest and an array of tattoos. “Most women do.”

  “Do you force most women to strip for you? Or threaten their lives?”

  “Maybe I do,” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Is this really so horrible? I bought you a one-of-a-kind dress you look phenomenal in. I took you to a fancy gala with all the richest people in Houston. Now, I bring you back to my house and serve you what is, no doubt, the most expensive glass of bourbon you’ve ever had. You should be thanking me.”

  I sputtered, nearly choking on the alcohol sliding down my throat. “Thanking you? Are you insane?”

  He tilted his head to the side as though I were a particularly interesting science experiment, a strand of black hair falling onto his forehead.

  “You’re a criminal forcing me to be your girlfriend. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want a fancy dress. Or expensive alcohol. I don’t want to knock elbows with a bunch of stuck-up rich people.”

  Jasper moved around the island towards me, and I knew I should back away, maybe even run, but I couldn’t. His blue eyes were on me, pinning me to the spot. If this were a nature documentary, I’d be the helpless antelope in the sights of the cheetah. It wasn’t a question of if, but when he would strike.

  He took the glass out of my hand and sat it on the island and pushed me back against the countertop. The cold granite bit into my exposed lower back as he put his hands on either side of me. He pressed his hips into mine until our lower halves were flush with one another. I felt the heat rolling off of him, and my breath hitched in my chest.

  I looked away in a desperate attempt to regain composure. Just as I did, he grabbed my chin in his hand, his fingers squeezing my jaw. He leaned forward until I could smell the bourbon on his breath.

  “What do you want, Marin?”

  I didn’t dare move, even to breathe. Making any sort of movement could propel me in a direction I wasn’t sure I was ready to take. I needed to step away from him, clear my head. I needed fresh air and less alcohol in my bloodstream and time. I needed an infinite amount of time to forget how good it felt to have Jasper’s weight pressing down on me.

  It didn’t matter though. Jasper could surely feel the desire leaking out of me against my permission. He leaned down to me, moving unbearably slow. Painfully slow. Finally, his lips grazed mine, awakening nerves I didn’t know I had.

  A moment later, we were crashing together. His lips were brutal on mine, but I clung to him. It was like riding a mechanical bull – something I’d done at my aunt’s third bachelorette party – even though the ride was dangerous and my brain screamed at me to let go, I couldn’t. My body knew better.

  His hands pressed into my sides and traced a crushing trail down to my hips. His lips left mine, and I gasped for air. Jasper trailed kisses down my jaw and neck, and I wondered if he could feel my heart beats fluttering against his lips.

  Suddenly, the clasp of my dress was undone, and Jasper’s hands were peeling the lacy material down my body. I stepped out of the dress as it pooled on the floor around my ankles, and Jasper picked me up, setting me on the cold countertop. A chill ran down my spine, but I ignored the goosebumps blossoming on my skin and wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him into me.

  He grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged, pulling my head back and groaning into my neck. I felt him against my thigh, and a warm need grew in my lower abdomen. As he tugged on my hair, I arched my back, pressing myself against him. My brain screamed at me to stop, reminding me of everything he’d done, but my priorities no longer aligned with sense and reason. I needed a release.

  “What do you want, Marin?” he asked again, speaking the words into my skin.

  I ignored him, and pulled his face to mine, our tongues swirling together.

  He pulled back and looked at me. “What do you want?”

  Why was he doing this? I drew my eyebrows together, confused.

  Jasper grabbed my chin and ran his thumb across my lower lip, pulling on it. “Tell me,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

  “You,” I mumbled, my lips refusing to move around the word.

  “Say it again.” He reached around to unclasp my bra. He slid the straps off one arm at a time, his fingertips brushing across my skin, leaving trails of fire and ice.

  “You,” I whispered a little louder this time, the need inside of me forming a pit in my stomach.

  He pushed on my shoulders until I was laying back on the island, open and exposed to him. My legs opened further, and he placed a warm hang on each of my thighs, sliding upwards until his fingers grazed across the material of my panties.

  “One more time,” he said, leaning forward to kiss the insides of my legs.

  “I want you,” I said, my voice thick and begging.

  He grabbed my hips and slid me roughly to the edge of the countertop. Within seconds, his hands were under the waistband of my panties. I heard the delicate fabric rip. I sat up a bit to better see, but he pushed me back down, his hand pressing into my chest as he unzipped his suit pants and pulled down his boxers.

  Suddenly, he was rubbing himself against my opening. I arched my back and moved to wrap my legs around him, but once again he pressed me down.

  “Wait,” he commanded.

  I didn’t understand. Was I just supposed to lie there?

  Without warning, he thrust himself fully inside of me, and I screamed. Pain and pleasure mixing into one blinding sensation.

  “That’s what you want,” he said, pulling out and thrusting in again.

  I writhed on the counter, but Jasper grabbed my hips and pulled me into him, deepening the thrust. I screamed again, my back arching against the violation.

  “Scream for me, baby,” he said, pounding into me as I laid helpless and spread on the island.

  I bit back another scream, not because Jasper told me to, but because he’d suddenly added a finger to the mix. He circled my center, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. He timed his thrusts with his finger, and my thighs began to tremble. I felt a wave rising up inside of me, threatening to crash at any moment.

  But then, he stopped.

  I sat up, eyebrows knitted together, my entire body coiled so tightly I thought I’d snap at any moment. Jasper was standing back and looking at me, an animalistic hunger darkening his eyes.

  “Wha—”

  “Get on the floor,” he said. The words were soft, but his demeanor felt like a threat.

  There was an ache inside of me where he’d been only moments before, and I wanted it back. At that moment, I would have done anything for the release. So, I obeyed. I slid off the counter, my sweaty skin squeaking across the granite. I stood in front of him completely naked.

  Maintaining eye contact, Jasper pushed his pants and boxers to the floor. For a minute, we stood there like two nervous teenagers, anxiously taking in the sight of the other person’s body. Then, Jasper became commanding again.

  “On your knees.”

  I hesitated. Jasper closed the gap between us in one step and cupped me with his hand. His thumb rubbed at my most sensitive spot until I thought I could collapse. As he massaged me, he pressed his lips to my ear.

  “On your knees,” he whispered.

  This time, I listened.

  I dropped down onto the tile floor, and Jasper grabbed the hair at the back of my neck and directed me towards him. There was no m
isunderstanding his intentions. I opened my mouth and accepted him into me. I drug my lips down his length, swirling my tongue around his tip, and then dove back down.

  Suddenly, I felt in control. My hands were wrapped around his muscular legs for stability, and I felt him shaking. When I chanced a look up at his face, his eyes were closed, head tipped back. He looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him.

  I worked his length several times and then added a hand at the base. As soon as I did, Jasper groaned and grabbed the back of my head, holding me onto him as he made shallow thrusts into my mouth. Even though I was the one pleasuring him, I felt myself growing wetter and wetter by the second. I had never wanted anyone more desperately in my life.

  Luckily, Jasper had the same idea.

  He slid out of me, and before I could even react, he had flipped me over onto my hands and knees. I looked over my shoulder at him, and Jasper met my eyes. He bit his pouty lower lip, and I almost came right there. His vulnerability was obvious. He wanted this as badly as I did.

  “I want you,” I said, speaking the words slowly and freely.

  A minuscule smile played at the corner of his mouth, and then he inserted two of his fingers into me. I lost all of my composure. I slammed my hands down on the tile and arched my back. He pulsed in and out of me several times, and well before I was ready, inserted a third finger.

  “How about now?” he asked, slapping my ass.

  “I want you,” I said, speaking through my gritted teeth.

  He grabbed my hair and tugged, forcing me to arch my back, his other hand never once slowing down. “And now?”

  I was breathing so hard I could barely speak, my chest heaving. “I. Want. You.”

  Too fast to believe, Jasper removed his fingers and dipped himself into me. He felt even bigger than he had the first time, stretching me to my absolute limit. His hands grabbed at the soft of my hips and drilled into me relentlessly. I came fast and hard.

  My body clenched around him, eliciting a husky moan. I nearly collapsed, my body shaking so much I couldn’t hold my own weight, but Jasper wrapped an arm around my waist and held me up. Warmth moved down my body in waves, pleasure exploding from every cell in my body. My toes curled and my back arched, and I heard myself moaning, but I couldn’t stop.