Jani Kay - Two Worlds Colliding

But I had to sacrifice my feelings of lust for Ryder because there no good could come of it. We were doomed from the start.

I. Had. To. Choose. My. Family.

Why had Ryder chosen Clarke and Sons Agency that day?

And why in hell could he not just let go? Move on?

And why, oh why was I so drawn to him, so weak when it came to resisting him?

Why?

Still bewildered by my emotions, I became aware of a strange noise. It reminded me of when I was a teenager and boys threw pebbles against my window. Then it dawned on me—that was exactly what it was. I scooted off the bed to the window as another pebble hit it smack in the middle of the glass. What little delinquent was pranking me at this time of the night?

I pushed the window open and gasped. Ryder was standing there in the darkness, a lopsided grin on his handsome face. Fuck. This was worse than when I was a teenager. Back then I was too innocent to know better. A boy beneath my window sent my heart aflutter. Now other parts of me were fluttering, way down south from my heart.

“Let me in,” he demanded, his arms folded over his chest.

“Shhh,” I gestured, then shook my head.

“Fine,” he muttered and walked away. What? Was he giving up that easily? He disappeared out of sight around the corner, without any further protest. I was pretty disappointed, but it was better this way. I didn't want him to see that I’d been crying. I wiped my nose with my sleeve and crawled back in to bed.

I closed my eyes, confused even more. Why had Ryder come here? Why had he left without even trying? Was he finally listening to me? And did I really want him to?

“Fuck, Princess. You’re killing me.” Ryder stood in my doorway, his silhouette in the dark visible by the light of the moon. Was I dreaming?

“Ryder! W . . . what? H . . . how?” I switched on the bedside lamp.

“If you won’t let me in, I’ll let myself in.” He grinned, his gaze raking appreciatively up my semi-naked body. I was wearing only a tee and panties.

“But . . . but the doors are locked . . . and we have alarms . . .” Had Daddy forgotten to lock up?

Ryder chuckled softly. “Babe, nothing will stop me if I want to get in somewhere. Breaking in is an undervalued skill, and definitely one of my many talents.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Yeah? And did you poison the Rottweiler?” Mom had insisted on having a trained guard dog. It made her feel safer. Bruno was alert and fierce, yet I hadn’t heard him growl or bark as he usually did when strangers came to the house.

“The pup and I are friends. I’m definitely not going to be his breakfast.” He sat on the bed, watching me.

My eyes widened. Bruno was a muscled brute of a dog; he hadn’t been a puppy in five years. How had Ryder gotten past Bruno? He didn't take kindly to strangers.

“Princess. You’ve been crying—tell me why.” His voice was hoarse, yet soft.

My throat was still thick, and tears sat just behind my eyelids, ready to spring forth again. I couldn’t speak. I wanted Ryder here more than anything, but I also wanted him to leave, for his own sake. I was so confused.

“Baby,” he said softly as he pulled me to his chest.

God it felt good. And the way he said the word baby, with the slightest dip in his voice as if he were affected too, made it sound sexy and comforting at the same time. My breath hitched—he’d called me baby—not babe, not bitch, not Princess. Just baby. And I loved it.

I let him hold me, let him stroke my back, soothing me while he hummed. This was a side of the tough, badass biker I doubted anyone had ever seen. Was he even aware he was doing it?

“Why did you come?” I whispered, my breath catching as I spoke.

“I’ll tell you . . . if you tell me why you’re crying,” he countered.

I fell silent for a long time, organizing my thoughts. Ryder kept rubbing my back, placing no pressure on me but waiting patiently for me to reply.

At last I spoke. It was as if the floodgates opened. I told him the whole story. Everything.

Ryder listened, only grunting occasionally, his fingers making small circular motions up and down my spine. I inhaled deeply, drawing his scent into my nostrils and basking in his warm embrace. He’d comforted me and lulled me into a relaxed state.

“Um, Ryder?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Now I’ve told you the whole story—why did you come?”

He was quiet for the longest time, but never resting his fingers. “Because I needed to be near you. Because I can never get enough of you. That’s why.”

He shifted down the bed, holding me in his arms. My head rested on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“Sleep baby, I’ll hold you. It’s all OK. That shit happened a long time ago. None of it was your fault. None. You gotta let that go. OK?”

Drowsy, I nodded my head. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Why, I wasn’t sure. All I’d done, was tell Ryder my and Harrison’s story; the story I’d hidden deep inside for so long, trying to bury it. Yet now that I’d set it free, it no longer weighed as heavily on me.

Ryder had done for me what no therapist ever could. He’d gotten me to set the ugly past free. He’d even gotten me to start believing that maybe it wasn’t my fault after all. I sighed as he kissed the crown of my head, a shudder of utter relief running through my body, letting the tension flow away.

“Go to sleep. I’m here now.” His voice was like velvet, soft and soothing. Hypnotic. I drifted off into a peaceful sleep with Ryder holding me, feeling safe and secure.

Pure bliss.

“Are you sure you’re up to this, brother?” I quirked an eyebrow at Cobra who was all dressed except for his cut, ready to go back to the compound for the first time since the shootout.

“Yeah. It’s time to sort out club business. Take my place at the gavel. Work out what we’re going to do.”

Cobra was stubborn. It made him the badass man he was. He never gave up, and he never gave in. OK, except to Mia. And his babies. But never to another man. Tough as fucking nails, he went head-to-head with his enemies.

We made small talk for most of the journey, both of us with our minds wandering elsewhere. So when we fell into a comfortable silence we just let it be, allowing ourselves the small pleasure of being lost in our own thoughts, without interruption.

I was between a rock and a hard place. I was falling for Jade, yet I knew her brother would string me up the first chance he got. Now that I’d finally gotten the story out of her, I wasn’t bitter or vengeful about his motives. Fuck, if that’d happened to me, I would’ve hunted the motherfuckers down and killed them with my bare fucking hands.

A part of me even respected the guy for wanting to protect his little sister. Remembering back to what I was willing to sacrifice to save Max’s life, I understood how Harrison Summers felt about Jade. Fuck, if it weren’t for our pasts, we could probably even have been friends.

But that wouldn’t stop me from putting a bullet in his skull if he threatened my family. Fuck, if he hurt any one of my brothers at the Scorpio Stinger MC I'd have to take him down. It was the code of our brotherhood. It was simply the way it worked, regardless of who the fucker was who tried to take a brother down.

Sighing heavily, I pulled up at the compound, in front of the heavy gates and pressed the button to let us in. While we waited, I couldn’t help noticing how derelict the warehouse was. Our headquarters appeared deserted. Usually there were bikes and people everywhere, but since the shootout, everyone kept cover as much as they could. We’d even built a fucking shed for the bikes so they could be locked up at night, ensuring nobody tampered with them. Yeah, we had to cover all our bases.

The gloomy clubhouse was in desperate need of restoration. Peeling paint and bullet holes in the walls had never bothered me before. I guess I’d been so used to its appearance that it’d seemed normal. Now it was depressing. Maybe it was because I'd been living in the fancy part of town for a while that I’d become aware of the stark contrast. Funny the things we get accustomed to.

This was not the day to help Cobra out of the SUV. Even though he struggled, sweat trickling down his forehead as he contorted his face in agony, I watched him get down the step by himself. Cobra was the pres of Scorpio Stinger MC, for fuck’s sake. He needed to maintain the respect of all the brothers. Show that a few bullets wouldn't stop him.

Suppressing the urge to put my arm around Cobra to support him, I walked to the door to hold it open. But before I could even reach the door, brothers came pouring out into the square to welcome their pres. The place that appeared so desolate moments before was transformed by all the familiar faces. The shouting and whistling startled me; I'd forgotten what a rowdy bunch these guys were.

Backslapping and brother-hugging with roars of laughter was a sure sign that everyone was relieved to have Cobra back at the helm. Yeah, it felt good to be home. I’d missed this place and these faces more than I cared to admit. Here, within these walls, I was just Ryder, a brother, like everyone else. It felt good to belong.

Ox lifted Cobra into his bulging arms, carrying him like a baby.

“Fuck, Pres, what have those people outside been feeding you? Rabbit food? Lettuce leaves ain't for biker boys. We gonna get a steak into you and feed you up.”

If I didn't know better I’d think that Ox fucking teared up, because he nearly choked on his last words.

“Yeah. And beer. Get Pres a fucking beer,” Ratbag piped up.

It was nine am, but that had never stopped the boys before, and today they had reason for celebration. Cobra let it go. He reveled in the attention, and knew his boys needed something to take their minds off the last few months. In time we’d get to the serious stuff, the business end of club matters. But for now, it was beer all ‘round.

Inside the clubhouse, Lexi was sliding one frothy glass after another across the counter like a pro. I had to admit I was impressed.

“Never seen a Sheila pull a beer so fast—she’s a fucking natural.” Ratbag laughed when he saw the puzzled look on my face. Wasn’t her name Lexi? “Yeah, Sheila is what we call bitches back in Australia.”

Ratbag never failed to amuse me with his strange way of talking and turns of phrases.

“Oi, Sheila, get our VP a beer, sweetheart,” he shouted at her.

Lexi didn't slide the beer across the counter to me like she did for the other guys. “You still owe me a visit from last time.” She winked as she handed me a beer, leaning over so I could see down her top and making damn sure her hand touched mine. She pouted her full lips and I had that feeling of déjà vu. I could swear I’d seen her somewhere, before she worked at the club as the barmaid.

Perplexed, I turned away and made a toast to Cobra, welcoming him back and wishing him a speedy recovery so that he’d be one hundred percent fit again.

Downing my beer, I was eager to escape to my room down the hallway. I hadn’t slept at the club in months, and I was feeling kinda homesick. I unlocked the door and grinned: everything was exactly as I’d left it. Even my old guitar. Yeah. I hadn’t played in forever. As I ran a finger over the strings, I heard the door close behind me.

Whirling around, my hand went for my gun.

“Hey, slow down cowboy, it’s only me.” Lexi leaned against the door, giving me her best come-fuck-me look.

“Sheila, shouldn’t you be working the bar?” I growled. I knew exactly why she was here.

“You can call me anything you want to, Ryder. But my name is Lexi. That’s the name to call out when I suck your cock and you come in my mouth.”

She pushed away from the door and knelt down in front of me. She ran her fingers over the guitar, slowly, suggestively, never taking her eyes off mine. I hadn’t had a bitch that was so overt in her intentions in a while.

I stared down at her, feeling my cock stir. Christ, I was only a man.

Lexi took hold of the ends of her skimpy top and pulled it over her head. Her tits were spectacular. Big brown nipples stood hard, already aroused. I watched as she licked her fingertips and started rolling her nipples between her fingers, moaning softly as she bit her bottom lip. She sat back on her knees and ran one hand down her ribs and over her thigh. She pushed up her skirt to her hips and exposed a glistening pussy with the smallest of landing strips covering her mound. Two fingers dipped into her cunt, pushing in deep as she groaned and then removed her fingers.