Jewell (Biker Bitches 7)

She started hitting his back in frustration. “You’re not working hard enough,” she hissed back.

Rory rose to his knees to hook one of her legs over his shoulder as he ceaselessly fucked her. “How’s this?”

Jewell wasn’t capable of doing anything other than giving a sound of approval.

With each shove of his cock, Rory started biting her nipple. The pleasure, the pain, had her squirming and whimpering from the extenuating tension he was building inside her.

“You’re burning me alive …”

Perversely, Rory slowed his strokes. He dropped his mouth to her ear as he rolled her clit between his fingertips. “You can end it anytime you want, baby,” he murmured his husky voice in her ear. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

“I want to come … Rory!” she screamed loud enough that she was certain she could be heard in the other rooms. “Please!”

“That’s all you had to do.” His thrusts escalated, driving into her with the force of a hammer. The impact of his cock hitting her magical spot, while his fingers played her, hit her with the force of a grenade, shattering her into a million pieces, only to fall back to earth, boneless.

Jewell lifted dazed eyes to find him leaning over her with a satisfied smile. “Did you come?”

“I did.” He placed a gentle kiss on her heaving nipple.

She licked her dry bottom lip. “Damn.”

He gave her amused look. “What?”

“Only the rich bitches could afford you, couldn’t they?”

“I didn’t come cheap.”

Jewell rolled over onto her stomach to tuck a pillow under her head. She heard a small laugh from him as he trailed a hand down her spine before he pulled the comforter up to cover her ass.

“The way you fuck, I would have an empty checking account after five days.”

Lips traveling the same route his fingers had taken, he said, “Then it’s a good thing I have a special code just for you.”

Jewell felt the comforter start to slip downward.

“What’s the”—Jewell buried her head in the pillow when his tongue touched the dimples above her ass—“code?”

“Free.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The smell of coffee woke her.

“Go away … I want to sleep,” she mumbled.

“I brought you breakfast,” he coaxed.

Never having been offered breakfast in bed before in her life had her looking side-eyed at the offering.

Fuck.

Pancakes had her carefully sitting up so she didn’t spill the pretty tray that Rory had prepared for her.

“Where did you get the strawberry pancakes from?” Picking up a fork, she speared a strawberry with whip cream on top of the mound of pancakes.

“Not only can I fuck, but I can cook.”

Jewell settled the tray on her lap, cutting the pancakes as she raised a sarcastic brow at him. “I can imagine it’s a skill that has come in handy numerous times for you.”

He gave her an unrepentant grin, stealing one of the bites she had cut for herself. “Exactly. What will it take to put you in a good mood?” he quipped, stealing another bite.

Her fork poised over the plate, she said, “You could become a Last Rider.”

Rory set the fork down, regarding her seriously. “Becoming a Last Rider isn’t an option.”

Hurt at his adamant refusal, Jewell lowered her fork to continue eating. “It was just a suggestion.” She shrugged.

Uncomfortable, she gestured for her phone on the nightstand next to him. “Mind handing me my phone? I should call Viper and talk to him.”

Rory reached for the phone then gave it to her. “You don’t have to call him. Viper came into the kitchen when I was making the pancakes. I told him what you said last night.”

“What did he say?”

“He left the kitchen.”

Jewell frowned. Should she call him? Looking down at her phone, she saw a missed call and a text from Rachel.

“Damn.” Jewell took another bite of her pancake then set the tray on Rory’s lap.

“Something wrong?”

“Rachel called and asked me to come over to her house. She says it’s important.”

Worried that Ema might have taken sick after her fall into the icy water, and Rachel needing her to watch Mag and the baby, had her rushing to the shower.

Rory had disappeared when she came out of the shower. Castigating herself as she dressed in an oversized, gray sweater and gray cords, she put her boots on. Grabbing her purse, she checked for her keys before walking out of her bedroom.

Flying past Puck, she went down the long flight of stairs to see Rory sitting behind the wheel of his SUV with the motor running.

Dammit. She had wanted the time away from him.

Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she got inside.

“I could have driven myself,” she said, closing the door.

“It’s not like I had anything to keep me occupied while you were gone. Did Rachel say why she wanted you to come to her house?”

“No. I’m worried Ema might be sick and needs to go to the doctor, and she needs me to watch Mag and Gabe for her.”