Page 12 of Forever Zara

His hand closed on the back of her neck, firm but careful,and he kissed her a second time like he was starving.

God. God.God.

Time was irrelevant when it concerned Rider because his kisses always felt like that first one. Zara was a different person that night to the woman she was today. But what hadn’t changed was the way she was drawn to her biker-man obsessively.

A throat clearing caused them to part reluctantly. Rider held his hand around her nape and looked beyond her to the server. “You folks ready to order?”

Zara grinned and pressed her forehead to his collarbone. She’d been seconds from stripping him. But now she could go for a loaded baked potato, extra sour cream.

During their meal, the conversation turned to the club, as it so often did. She loved being his confidant. When their relationship turned serious, moving in together, using the same toothpaste and eating from the same groceries. She didn’t know then how open he’d be with her. Some of the older generation biker old ladies warned her about club life, how it was a biker’s world, and they were there to decorate it and not ask questions if her man messed around with the groupies.

Zara hadn’t bought into that. It took a while to accept the role of being his old lady, but Rider was not the kind to screw around behind her back.

It became a seamless transition from a girlfriend to a confidant and then to Zara having a more prominent role within the club.

“You’re sure they’re ready?”

“Ready as they’ll ever be. They’ve been good prospects; they deserve the patch.”

“Is it a party situation? Do I need to do anything?”

Rider smirked and swiped his thumb against the corner of her lip. “Is that your way of saying you wanna throw the boys a party? We usually have a few beers and a hog.”

“It feels like my kids are graduating.”

Rider laughed at this. “Don’t tell that to Slider and Coop. They already think of you like a hot mom.”

She blushed and poked him.

“Whatever you boys do to initiate the new brothers, if you need me to do anything, give me advance notice.”

Men piled into the bar, wearing black cuts. Men from Jamie Steele’s MC. But for a second, she thought … she thought.

Ugh. Her heart knocked hard and then returned to normal.

Eyes like blue lasers were watching her…noticing her every reaction.

Years back, she would never have pegged Rider Marinosas a thoughtful man when she first saw him. As someone who valued thingsoutside of their most basic capability to bring him pleasure.Aprejudice of hers, she could admit. She’d walked into the MC, naïve as a freshly rolled snowman and judged based on sight only.

But she recognized the lookon his face now. The careful way he studied her. As ifcommitting her to memory, trying to dig down deep into her psyche to check if something was wrong.

He reached out and fingered the dip along hercollarbone with just the pads of his callused fingers. Trailinga path which tingled and ignited in the wake of histouch. The reaction was regular as clockwork. Between her breasts and across the softness of herbelly, his touch moved on. A raw honesty in his gaze. “You’ve been off-step all afternoon; what’s on your mind?” He was gonna be pissed if she put him off a second time, so she wouldn’t. This was Rider. She could talk to him, however big or small or silly. “And Zara? Whatever you have to say to me, remember it’s gonna be your man filthy fuckin’ you the moment I get you into our bed later.”

The declaration put heat in her loins and a bubbled laugh from her mouth. He was so deliciously coarse, and she loved that about him. She pulled his hand from her belly, or she wouldn’t be able to think other than to get him under her dress.

“I’m stupid, just to preface it.”

“You’re never stupid. Tell your man.”

Now she felt even sillier for not voicing herself better yesterday when she got home. Rider would never judge her for seeing things.

“While I was at my dress fitting yesterday, I thought… it’s stupid, okay? I already know this. I thought I saw a man wearing aRaging Rebelsjacket.”

He didn’t laugh.

Or crack a joke.

Rider would never poke fun at her internal fears, even all this time later.

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