Page 63 of The Heiress

“That’s right. You like that,” he growled with satisfaction. And then I snapped. Suddenly my orgasm was justthere.Fast and powerful and breathtaking. “Ohfuck,” he gasped, his hips jerking as he joined me.

I was still panting when he rolled to bed beside me, laughing and gasping for air. “Well that was fun!”

His joy infected me and I laughed too, my body tingling and zinging. “I think we’re going to be pretty good at this part of friendship too.”

22

Jace gave me a Devil’s Wrath laptop to use for basic stuff like researching how to ride a motorcycle. That way I could save the Excel Research laptop for my more sensitive research. He offered to take the truck to the party, but I didn’t want him to keep changing who he was for me. He’d done enough of that already. Besides, it made me stick out like a sore thumb and I was tired of being the object of everyone’s attention. If I had to ride on a deathtrap to get some anonymity for a few minutes, I’d do it.

At least I was pretty sure I could handle it. After a couple of hours of obsessive research I thought I understood the difference between a Harley and a Ducati—words I’d heard over the years but never put pictures to. Ape hangers were the high handlebars, pegs were where the feet went, and I finally understood why my adrenaline junkie college roommate used to say Gixxer all the time.

Because research was my thing, I poured over sales data and accident reports, did a comparative analysis of urban versus country, daily riders versus casual riders, and so on. In the end, begrudgingly, I felt a little better. With as experienced as Jace was on two wheels, it wasn’t the most risky thing I’d ever done.

That was still cliff diving and I couldn’t believe I’d actually done it, except Hazel had video.

I assumed all big, bad, leather-wearing motorcycle club guys rode Harleys. I’m not entirely sure where I came up with that idea, but when Jace walked me out to the garage I was surprised to find him leading me toward a rather sexy all-black Indian. I’d found a few cars attractive over the years, but never a motorcycle. Yet this one, with its elegant lines and monochromatic design had something unmistakably powerful, yet functional about it.

It was oh, so very Jace.

“You’re really sure?” he asked. Again.

“Yes.” I tried to sound like I meant it when I was only ninety percent sure. Okay, maybe eighty percent. It was hard to shrug off a lifetime of being scared of the things.

And also, if I was being honest, what they represented to my life. The motorcycle, through Todd, stole Jace from me.

It was a bit existential and a little over dramatic, but hey, I was living in dramatic times. Besides, I was trying to overcome all that and be present in the life I was living. That included getting my butt on a deathtrap and seeing what all this was about for myself.

“I expected something different.” I twisted around as I examined the matte black motorcycle.

Jace grinned. “Well, this is my comfort ride. Thought you’d appreciate that.”

“You have more than one?”

He crossed his arms and widened his stance. “Three actually. I also have a Harley and custom bike built by Striker.”

I assumed Striker was one of his brothers.

I was given a lengthy lesson and then we were on it. Jace straddling the bike, me behind him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He placed a hand over mine and the bike roared to life. It was scary and…

...sexy? Yeah, it was sexy having a powerful engine between our legs, controlled by the man in front of me, trusting him to keep me safe. It was an aphrodisiac. An adrenaline rush.

Jace revved the engine twice and then we were off. It was a little magical the way it moved beneath us. Almost like a dance, balance changing, using speed and distance to create movement. There was an elegance to the power. For the few minutes we traveled down city streets and highway I kept my head down, feeling the strength of Jace’s muscles under my hands. It was only once we slowed onto the smaller streets that I opened my eyes. Storm, Riddick, and Home Run were ahead, behind, and occasionally beside us. The fact that they treated me as protectively and respectfully as Jace did made me love them. Not like I loved Jace now...but in the brotherly way I used to.

How different my life was now. I was on a motorcycle with Jace. I wasin lovewith Jace. His gun pressed into my elbow where it was holstered at his waist. As usual, there was another wrapped around his ankle and a knife on the other. He’d even convinced me to carry pepper spray in my purse. I also had a silver folding pocket knife clipped to my back pocket. I went from the worst part of my day being someone burning popcorn in the break room to wondering if someone was trying to kill me.

The more I thought about it, the more it felt like there was no going back, no matter what I wanted. David and Jace both made convincing arguments for the good I could do. Both men knew me well. Hazel was the lone dissenter. She wanted me to change my name again, move in with them for a year, and try to start over fresh where no one but my Excel family and Jace would ever be the wiser.

It seemed...like a stretch.

Even if I pulled it off, would I always be looking over my shoulder, wondering if the man on the corner staring at me was just staring off into space, or calculating how quickly he could eliminate me from becoming a nuisance in some business I didn’t know anything about? If I was going to live like that, I might as well put myself right in the middle of it all.

Probably.

We veered off onto an even smaller road. There were no businesses anymore. Large plots of land with stilt houses set far back from the road. Tall pine trees swayed in the wind. I spotted an osprey nest on the streetlight and a bald eagle circling high above. After a few miles we turned down a rough drive and parked in a grassy area beside dozens of other bikes.

Jace stopped the engine and squeezed my hand on his waist. “No longer a virgin.”

I rolled my eyes and removed my helmet. “Can we drop the completely illogical definition of virginity?”

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