Her Possessive Bikers

27. Jacoby

27

JACOBY

B ack at the clubhouse, Indy looks like she’s been through a war. Her eyes are red, her face pale. I can see the shock and sadness swimming in her hazel eyes.

“Jacoby,” she starts, her voice shaking, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Indy. I’m just glad you’re okay,” I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“No, really. You saved the Chevelle. That car... it’s like a piece of him.” She pauses, her voice cracking. “And you saved me too. If we’d been at the house...”

I shake my head, cutting her off. “Let’s not think about what could’ve happened.”

She gives a small nod and takes a deep breath. “I want you to have his bike.”

“What?” I ask, taken aback.

“The Chieftan, the one you rode back here,” she clarifies. “It should go to someone who’ll appreciate it. And I’m more of a rider than a driver anyway.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling the weight of her offer. “Indy, I can’t take your dad’s bike. It’s yours.”

“No,” she insists, her tone firmer now. “You saved the car, Jacoby. You saved me by taking me out to practice today. It’s the least I can do.”

I sigh and look at her seriously. “It doesn’t feel right taking something that meant so much to him and you.”

“Please,” she says softly, looking up at me with those earnest eyes that make my resolve weaken.

She’s standing so close I can feel the warmth radiating off her. Her eyes search mine, and before I can say anything else, she leans in and kisses me. It’s soft at first, like she’s testing the waters, but then it deepens, becomes something more urgent.

My hands find their way to her waist, pulling her closer. The taste of her is intoxicating—sweet and a bit salty from the tears she shed earlier. She’s like a live wire against me, every touch sending electric shocks through my system.

“Indy,” I murmur against her lips when we come up for air, “are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Jacoby,” she breathes, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

I don’t need more convincing. I kiss her again, harder this time, pouring all my pent-up desire into it. Her fingers tangle in the short hair at the back of my neck, tugging me closer still.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whisper into her ear before nibbling on the lobe.

Indy grabs my hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “Come shower with me,” she whispers, her eyes holding mine. “We need to wash off the remnants of today.”

I nod, and she leads me to the bathroom. The space is small but functional, the steam from the hot water already fogging up the mirror. We stand facing each other, the weight of the day lifting as we begin to undress.

Her hands move to my shirt, fingers grazing my skin as she lifts it over my head. I do the same for her, peeling away the layers of sweat and grime until she’s standing there in nothing but a tiny bra and panties. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of her.

“You’re fucking stunning,” I say, voice rough with desire.

“Flatterer,” she teases, but her smile is genuine.

We continue undressing each other, our movements becoming more urgent. When she’s finally naked before me, I can’t help but kiss every inch of her chest. Her skin is soft and warm under my lips, and I revel in the taste of her.

“Jacoby,” she murmurs, her hands moving to pull down my boxers. Her eyes widen when she notices the piercing.

“Did that hurt?” she asks, curiosity and a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “A bit,” I admit, “but I’d do it all over again if I could see your face look like it did the first time I ever stuck it in every day.”

Her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink at my words, and she bites her lower lip. “You’re something else,” she says softly.

“So are you,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair from her face before leaning in to kiss her again.

The shower spray is hot against our skin as we step under it together. The water washes away the dirt and sweat, but it does nothing to cool the fire between us. Indy’s hands are everywhere—tracing my tattoos, exploring the planes of my chest. I can’t get enough of her either; every touch is electric.

I lift Indy up effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist. The heat of the water and the heat of her skin blend into one as I press her back against the cool tiles. Her breath hitches, and I feel her nails dig into my shoulders.

“Jacoby,” she gasps, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Hold on tight,” I whisper, positioning myself at her entrance. I thrust in, slow at first, letting her adjust to the piercing. Her cry echoes in the small bathroom, a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Oh my God,” she moans, her head falling back against the wall.

“You okay?” I ask, though my own voice is strained with desire.

“Better than okay,” she pants, her hips moving to meet mine.

I set a rhythm that’s anything but gentle. The sounds of our bodies slapping together mix with the rush of the shower. Her moans grow louder, but I capture them with my mouth, muffling her cries as my tongue explores hers.

“Jacoby, harder,” she pleads between kisses.

I don’t need more encouragement. My pace becomes punishing, each thrust sending her head bouncing off the tiles. She clings to me like a lifeline, and I can feel her body trembling as she gets closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Indy,” I grunt, feeling my own release building.

She’s close too; I can see it in the way her eyes glaze over and hear it in the pitch of her cries. I pull out suddenly and set her down on shaky legs. Before she can protest, I turn her around to face the wall.

“I want to see that ass,” I growl into her ear.

She complies eagerly, arching her back and presenting herself to me. The sight is almost too much; she’s perfect—flushed skin, curves that scream for attention. I slide back into her with a groan, feeling how tight and wet she is.

“Jacoby!” She screams this time, unable to hold back.

“Like that?” I ask, grabbing a handful of her ass as I thrust deeper.

“Yes! Don’t stop,” she begs, pushing back against me.

I watch myself disappear into her over and over again. The sight drives me wild. Her ass bounces with each thrust, a hypnotic rhythm that matches our breathing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “So perfect.”

She whimpers in response, too lost in pleasure to form words. My hand moves from her hip to between her legs, finding that sensitive spot that makes her buck against me even harder.

“Oh God, Jacoby!” Her voice cracks as she clenches around me, reaching her climax with a shuddering cry.

I’m right behind her; a few more thrusts and I’m done for. With a final deep push, I pull out, and spill all down her voluptuous ass. I'm gripping her hips so hard there will probably be marks later.

We stay like that for a moment—panting, bodies still joined under the hot spray of water. Finally, I pull out and turn her around to face me again.

“You okay?” I ask softly, brushing wet hair from her face.

She looks up at me with those hazel eyes and smiles tiredly. “More than okay.”

"Looks like this dirty girl needs another shower," I say, whispering in her ear.

"As long as you volunteer to do the washing, you wore my ass out Jacoby." she says with a sigh as she lays her head on my shoulder.

"I'll take care of you darlin'," I say as I begin to soap up the loofa.

If she only knew how much truth was behind that statement.