FORBIDDEN: The Stowaway PART ONE

Chapter Twelve - Riggs

Perfection radiates off her.

Trouble.

Conniving.

Bitch.

But I want her.

That tight little thing beneath me.

Consuming it.

Destroying it.

Loving it.

She's giving it to me.

Using me.

I don't want to use her.

She has a dark past but she doesn't need to be taken advantage of, as I'm sure she was before. She deserves so much more.

A life.

Love.

Happiness to keep that smile on her face.

That gorgeous fucking smile.

She's staring out the window, watching the trees.

Bewildered.

Sad.

I hate this look on her. It's the same look she had when we first met. Except no tears. She rolls her head back and closes her eyes with a deep breath.

With a gulp, I start eating. Keeping my focus on her. Her creamy skin is like silk. Soft, and it has just the right amount of shine. I trail my eyes down her jaw, her throat, getting lost in the valley of her cleavage.

It was hard not to wake her when I put her to bed last night.

Fuck our troubles away.

It's the best kind of screw, no messiness, no strings. Just hard thrusts and sloppy kisses.

But Zay kisses like a dream.

I don't notice I'm still staring at her as I'm chewing until she swallows and lowers her head.

I avoid her gaze when she looks at me, keeping my attention on my food rather than her.

No bad decisions.

I always make bad decisions.

That's what almost got me removed from the club. My stupid decisions.

Eighteen months ago, I met Natalia. She was cute, tight the way I like them. But she was innocent. Too innocent for my liking. Yet I still used her for a release. The boys took notice and when they took notice, she started sniffing where she shouldn't. Fourteen months ago, the stupid gash I was screwing ratted on us. I thought Natalia was a good girl just looking for a little bad. Turns out, she was a bad girl craving more wickedness.

Told the cops we were killers.

Drug dealers.

Gun suppliers.

Sex traffickers.

And kidnappers.

Ninety percent of that is true.

Half of our guys got arrested. Some are still in the slammer. Our guns were confiscated, our club was shut down. Judas's bar was ransacked and bugged.

Worst of all, my daddy went to prison. President of the MC.

Nowhere was safe after what she did.

Crew blamed me. Beat me. Almost killed me. All because I was screwing a skinny bitch who said she loved me. I knew the chick for six months and she fucked me over.

Guys took their turns beating me for six days straight.

My face was unrecognizable. They didn't care, though, all they cared about was making sure I wasn't the rat. That no one else got arrested.

It's been fourteen months since she ratted, thirteen months since I last saw her. They still don't trust me. Think I had a hand in the bust. I didn't even know. Bitch had me fooled.

Natalia came into Judas's bar with a mission. Got me mixed into it. Blinded me with her short skirt. Tight top. And nasty tongue. She seemed out of place. Like the outfit she wore wasn't hers. The words she spoke weren't hers. But I needed a little release. She wanted me and my dick needed a hole to burrow into for the night.

For four months she was my go-to. Unless we were out of town. If we were out of town, I had my way with girls in the other charters. Teaching them a thing or two.

But Natalia was my girl.

Then she ghosted me.

Left me clueless.

Left my bed cold.

Eleven days after she left me without a word, cops were banging down our doors.

Warrants waving.

Arrests taking place.

All eyes were on me.

Seeing Zay sitting in front of me, flaunting her precious body like it means nothing, reminds me of what Natalia did. I can't go through a betrayal like that again.

Zay shifts her attention back to the phone. Slumping in her chair without touching her food. Must be why the girl's so skinny. She doesn't eat.

I push her plate forward, sliding the ketchup over, too. "Eat."

"I don't like hotdogs."

I take it from her plate and drop it onto mine, savagely biting from the one I was working on. "Better."

She stares at my beer, then the fridge. "Is there anything other than beer to drink?"

I stuff the rest of the hotdog in my mouth and make for the fridge, her eyes on me as I do.

Little lady better watch it, I might let my guard down and eat her up.

Shit, she doesn't have to watch it. It'll happen again real soon.

I have no self-control.

I trust too easily when a pretty lady bats her eyes at me.

I'd say it's a fault of mine, but my daddy's the same. Gave himself to my mother and had his way with every girl who walked through the doors of the club or Judas's bar.

Half of the didn't know what was coming to them.

Now he's in prison, and I was supposed to take over his club.

Instead, I'm babysitting a pretty lady batting her eyes at me.