Making Her His (Beating the Biker 1)

Like indescribable pleasure.

Saks caressed her upper arms, and she moaned as fire spread all through her again. How could he do this? Why did this man, someone she barely knew, and one so different from all the men she’d met, make her want to give everything she had without question?

“Oh, baby,” he murmured. “You are so hot. And tasty. I want to lick you from your neck to the tips of your toes, and then go back up your delicious body.”

Chrissy swallowed hard. She mustn’t do this. Getting involved with Saks was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Whether she would marry this man her family picked out or not, the repercussions for Saks were huge. They were possibly life-threatening.

One did not mess with the Serafina family.

“Whoa, hold up there,” she said, pulling herself away.

“What?” Confusion washed over his handsome face, and Chrissy bit her lip.

“I’m so sorry. But this...this is a bad idea.”

“I don’t care,” Saks said. “It doesn’t seem like a bad idea to me. Give me your car keys.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Look, Mr. Anthony Parks, this isn’t going to be a thing.”

“What isn’t?” he said, a teasing smile on his lips.

“You and me. Meeting up in a bar and running off to your apartment.”

“We seem like a good thing. You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever met and, yeah, if I can get you into my bed, I will.”

“Let me go,” she said, straining against his strong arms. But he wouldn’t release her. Instead, he gave her that damnable smirk, as if he knew every racy thought she had about him.

“Chrissy?” a masculine voice called. Damn. Marcus.

“Saks, you’ve got to let me go,” she whispered, panicking.

“Why? So, you can go running to big, tall, and dimwitted?”

Marcus absolutely would go ape-shit if he found Saks holding Chrissy. Or knew what they’d been doing. If there was one reliable thing about her sister’s boyfriend it was that he loved the enforcing part of his job a little too much. And with the shots Saks took at him in the bar, Marcus would take special delight in pounding Saks into the pavement.

“Chrissy? Are you okay?” Marcus called in the dark. His voice was closer, though she couldn’t see him yet. He was probably coming around the building any minute.

“Come on, Saks. You don’t understand,” Chrissy whispered urgently. “He’ll hurt you.”

“I’d like to see him try.”

“You’re a smug bastard,” she said, despite her paranoia.

“You seem to like it.”

“I. Do. Not. Let me go, you Neanderthal. Before I—”

“You’ll what? Scream?” He wouldn’t let go of her hand. He wasn’t gripping it painfully, but he held it with no intention of letting go. He grinned wickedly. Not the kind of grin to fear, but the kind that said he would love to bring her to the brink of screaming again. “I’ve heard you scream before, baby. And we both know you like it.”

She had to get back to the bar. This was only going to end up a big mess, and someone would get hurt if she stayed with Saks. Most likely him. At the hands of her family. She twisted suddenly in his arms and broke free. As she shifted her weight, she stepped on his foot accidentally...in her stiletto heels. While his thick biker boots protected his feet, she wasn’t as lucky and she stumbled. Her knee flew up to try to catch herself. It plowed into him, right in the family jewels. She caught herself as her leg came down. Saks wasn’t as lucky.

“Fuck,” he cursed. Pain punctuated his words, and he stumbled back.

“Chrissy!” Marcus rumbled. He was now just a few feet from them. “You okay?”