Twenty minutes.
That’s all it took for me to fall in love with his motorcycle.
Twenty minutes of my legs around his hips, the wind in my hair, and his firm ass tucked right up against my clit. I never listened to anyone who said they bought a bike “because they’re fun to ride.” Bikes were not fun. They were bulky and heavy and expensive to fix. People bought bikes because they were sexy, and when you had all that power vibrating between your knees, you felt like a fucking God.
Or at least, in Jericho’s case, you looked like one.
By the time we turned down Mount Zion Lane, I would have done anything to get him to fuck me right there in front of my childhood home. I ached for him to bend me over and show me how a real man handles a woman. But… none of that happened.
He turned the ignition off and kicked out the stand, tilting the motorcycle as I stood to the side. I took off my helmet and shook out my curly hair, handing it back to him with a grin.
“That was a lot of fun,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” he said. “I’m only right down there most days.” He pointed down the mountain in the general vicinity of the garage. “We can go for a ride whenever you want.”
“Wanna come inside?” I nodded toward the house.
His eyebrows furrowed. “I won’t disturb your mom or nothing?”
“Nah.” I found my keys and climbed the wooden stairs to the porch, opening the screen door so I could unlock the handle. “She’s on a lot of pain meds these days. She’s been asleep since ten.” I opened the door to the living room where my mom’s hospital bed had been set up to make things easier for her. We’d moved the couches to either side of the room and the television against the wall opposite her, right in front of the door.
Tonight’s caregiver, Martha, sat at one end of the couch, crocheting a blanket for her newest grandchild and gasping at something that happened on The Vampire Diaries.
“Damon, you tricky shit,” she muttered.
“Hi, Martha,” I said.
“Hi, Alba,” she said. “You ever watch this show?”
I nodded. “Many times.”
“I like this Damon,” she said. “But Stefan’s a whiny jerk, right?”
“I don’t know.” Jericho shrugged. “If my brother moved in on my girl, I’d be pretty upset, too.”
I balked and turned to face him, surprised he knew the story well enough to have an opinion.
“What?” he said. “I have a twin sister. I’m well versed in the Stefan and Damon brother-bonding drama.”
“And who’s this?” Martha said.
“This is Jericho.”
“Oh,” she said. “The sun and the moon, huh?”
“What?” I furrowed my eyebrows.
“Jericho means moon in Greek… or Hebrew… or something.” She winked and stood, packing her things. “Don’t ask me how I know that. It’s just one of those Jeopardy things.”
“Jeopardy things?” Jericho shoved his hands in his pockets as he wandered around my tiny living room, raking his eyes over pictures on the wall.
“Yeah, useless knowledge you pick up along the way. I know the meaning of the word Jericho because I watched that show.” She chuckled. “I have a lot of time for Netflix. It’s easy to multitask when all you have to do is make sure the morphine keeps dripping.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” I smiled at her.
“Alba, can I talk to you for a minute?” Martha shifted her eyes between Jericho and me before she nodded toward the kitchen.
“Okay.” My heart sank into my stomach as I followed her. “What’s up?”
“Your mom is getting weaker.”
I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “I know.” I’d known for a while. She could barely hold her phone. She ate less and less every day.
“Sometimes, they feel better right before it happens. They get a second wind. And then…”
I sighed, pushing down the wave of emotion that threatened to hit me. I couldn’t deal with that now. Not with Jericho standing out in my living room. “Got it.”
“I think her second wind is sliding away.” Martha put her hand on my shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “You understand?”
Yeah. Loud and clear. Any day now. Any fucking day.
I hated that, so I locked it up tight in a compartment of my heart I never went to. “Thank you, Martha.”
She nodded and slipped on her jacket before grabbing her purse. “Everything’s stable. I wrote down the last time I checked her vitals. You should be good until morning.”
“Okay, thanks again.”
“Uh-huh.” She looked between us. “You two behave.” She waved before leaving, closing the door behind her. I checked over my mom’s fragile form, making sure all was well. I pulled her blanket up higher and turned off the television, dimming the light before returning my attention to Jericho.
He stood in front of the console, looking at pictures from my childhood on a shelf at eye level—Girl Scouts, graduations, swimming leagues. I went to stand next to him, and he narrowed his eyes as he leaned in on one picture in particular. He picked it up and brought it closer to his face.
“Holy shit.” He turned it around to face me. It was one from when I was five or six, standing in front of Rose Garage and eating an ice cream cone that had melted down my arm. I stuck my tongue out at my mother and crossed my eyes.
Jericho pointed to two people in the background who I hadn’t even realized were there until now.
“That’s me,” he said. “And my sister.”
“What?” I grabbed the photo to bring it closer. “No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is,” he said. “I still have that shirt. I’ll show it to you next time I come over.”
I raised an eyebrow. “There’s a next time?”
He shrugged and turned to face me. We were standing so close. His body was inches away from mine—all that muscle, all those tattoos, that gorgeous mouth, those haunting eyes, and that brilliant mind.
God, he was so hot.
I licked my lips and looked away, taking a step back to break the overwhelming connection that threatened to choke the resistance out of me.
“You wanna see my room?” I winced internally because my voice was shaky. What was I nervous about? Jericho seemed nice, and it wasn’t like he was going to take me up on anything anyway.
“Sure,” he said. “Lead the way.”
It wasn’t a big house. It was just me and my mom, so we didn’t need much. A twelve-hundred-square-foot rancher with two bedrooms and a bathroom between them suited us fine until Mom got sick.
When I’d started filming, I converted the basement into my studio. I didn’t want to chance my mother overhearing the filthy things my fans said to me when I did a live stream. I’d rented a few books from the library and watched some YouTube videos to turn what had once been an unused cement-floored wasteland into a soundproof room with a bathroom in the corner. (Okay, fine… I couldn’t do it all myself, but luckily, I’d made enough money to afford a few professionals.)
My filming supplies took up one side of the space, and my bed sat on the other. I had a wall for my ropes and paddles as well as a chest for my toys. My dresser stood off to the right as soon as I entered, a television on top of it. The rest of the space was eloquently decorated for show. It was the only place I kept as clean as possible.
“Wow.” Jericho paused as I crossed the space to my desk at the opposite side. “This is where the magic happens, huh?”
I took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I don’t usually bring people home. It’s not sexy, you know. Walking in on all this.” I gestured to indicate the filming gear and my mother and well… everything.
“I get it.” He took a step closer, looking around the bright feminine space right off Pinterest with gray walls and a big, fluffy white comforter. I liked to be warm. I had no styling expertise, but I could recreate a picture well enough.
Jericho sat on my bed and reached for the white teddy bear in the middle of the pillows, sitting it on his lap.
“Thank you again for the ride home.”
“You’re welcome, Alba.” He lifted his eyes to mine and a momentary tension filled the air, one where the urge to ask him to spend the night lingered on my tongue. Even if he didn’t want to have sex with me, which I completely understood given the nature of what I did for money, I enjoyed his company. I hadn’t realized how alone I felt until he was here. Maybe he read this in my gaze because he pushed himself upright and took a step in my direction. “I have a question.”
“Okay,” I said.
“The librarian thing, I get.” Another step closer, and my heart rate kicked up. “The porn, I get. But this?” He lifted my arm, revealing my tattoo. “Doesn’t really go with your vibe, does it?”
I grinned to myself, relishing the memory. “It was a dare.”
“Go on.” He pursed his lips, perhaps amused at how happy it made me.
“My mother has dozens. One of her legs is an entire sleeve.”
“Bad ass,” Jericho said.
“We’re opposites in a lot of ways,” I said. “Which is why we’re such good friends. She has this hippie free love vibe about her. I’m much more hustle and bustle.”
He hummed, nodding. “Your mother dared you to get a tattoo?”
“Well, technically, I lost a bet.”
“What was the bet?”
“That I wouldn’t get into Thomas Washington’s MLIS program. It’s very prestigious,” I explained. “She said they’d be stupid not to take me, and when I got in, I’d have to do something stupid to make up for it.”
He laughed. Another step closer. “I think I love your mother.”
“She’s an awesome lady.” My heart ached for the impending doom on the horizon, the rest of my life without her. “I was accepted. And when I got the tattoo the next day, I did it in a super obvious spot to spite her.”
“Brat,” Jericho teased.
“It’s hard to cover up a wrist tattoo.”
“Don’t I know it.” He was so close now, his legs on either side of mine, trapping me against the desk. His pelvis connected with my lower stomach, the half erection in his jeans nudging me in directions I had no business going. I looked up at him and took a deep breath, my heart pounding. It echoed so hard between my ears that he must have heard it, must have known how he affected me. He must’ve had this effect on all the women he stood this close to.
I cleared my throat and tried to look away, but he put his hand on my chin to stop me, splaying his fingers along my jawline and rubbing my lower lip with his thumb.
“I like you, sunshine,” he said.
“I like you, too, moonbeam,” I said.
He cracked a smile as he chuckled low in his chest. “Don’t call me that.”
I trembled, certain that any second he would close the distance between us and kiss me.
Just kiss me.
The way a man kisses a woman.
But he didn’t. The moment passed and he stepped back. I pushed my glasses up, frustrated by my stupid hormones. If I wasn’t so touch deprived, would he still make me react like this? “What should I call you instead?”
He shrugged. “My sister calls me Jer. Thor calls me KC.”
“What does KC stand for?”
He laughed, putting his hands in his back pockets. “Maybe I’ll tell you some day. After a few drinks.”
That made me even more curious, but I dropped it.
“Well, I’m not going to call you KC if I don’t know what it means.” I searched for my pajamas in my dresser drawers, deciding I wouldn’t put the moves on Jericho.
Call me radical, but I agreed with him. He was supposed to be in my life. I already had a picture of him, for Christ’s sake. I’d gone out tonight to find a partner, and fate must have been trying to tell me something because I ended up with him. Best not to fuck it up with a one-night stand… at least not yet, anyway.
“Why don’t you call me Jericho?”
“You call me sunshine.”
“Yeah, because it’s your name.” He twirled a piece of my hair around his finger, letting it loose like a spring, bouncing back into place. “And all this hair reminds me of sunrise.”
Alba. Aurora Dawn. What’s one more personality?
“Well,” I said, “Alba is sleepy. I’m going to get changed. Make yourself comfortable. There’s beer and soda water in the fridge upstairs.” I walked to the bathroom, the thought only occurring to me once I was there that Jericho had recognized who I was. He’d seen my videos, which meant he’d seen all of me. It was a little ridiculous to go to the bathroom to change.
But Alba respected her modesty. Aurora Dawn had none, and she was off duty tonight.
After I slipped into my oversized hoodie and gym shorts, I found Jericho lying in my bed. He’d taken off his boots and cut, but still had on his T-shirt, jeans, and socks. He was flipping through Netflix on my television when I crawled into bed next to him, slipping under the covers while he settled on New Girl, one of my favorites.
“Can I ask a question now?” I curled my body toward him, fluffing the pillow under my head.
“Of course.” He turned toward me, and as we lay there facing each other in the dark, I felt freer than I had at the party. The world faded away, leaving just the two of us and this delicate nascent friendship we’d created tonight.
“Why did you join the motorcycle club?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning onto his back so he could look away from me. I grabbed his chin, the same way he’d done to me earlier, and forced his gaze back, running my thumb over his bottom lip. It was soft and warm, and he parted his mouth, as if daring me to plunge my finger inside. I almost did.
“The oldest reason in the book,” he said. “Revenge. It’s a fucked-up story.”
“You know all my fucked up.” Well… most of it, anyway.
“My folks were killed by the DC mafia. Fucking collateral damage in a feud that goes back to before I was born. Remember the car bomb outside Annapolis ten years ago?”
“Oh my God,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand. “That was your family?”
Of course it was. The Steel Roses MC and the Caputi crime syndicate had one of the biggest rivalries on the East Coast. Might as well say the Capones or the Gottis. “Jericho, I’m so sorry.”
“Like I said, real fucked-up shit.” He shook his head, running one tattooed hand through his hair. “The former president of the MC, Piston, was in love with the same woman as Benito Caputi. When Gabriella chose Benito, Piston went off in a blind rage and killed one of Benito’s brothers.”
Jericho sighed and ran a knuckle down the side of my face, determined to finish his tale even if it hurt him. “The bad blood started there, but it escalated a few decades after that. Benito used to have a daughter named Alessandra. She disappeared a while ago.”
I remembered the story. Her disappearance took place right around the time I was born. My mother told me she followed it on the news when she was in the hospital giving birth to me.
“What the public doesn’t know is Alessandra fell in love with one of our brothers and ran away with him. Benito hunted down Roses to find her. My folks. My aunt. Crow’s old lady.” He explained that Crow was the president of the Roses MC, and Benito held him personally responsible for Alessandra’s disappearance. My heart broke into a thousand pieces, and I almost started crying right then and there—for him, for Crow, for the Mafia princess who couldn’t be free to follow her heart. How fucked up.
“Was Crow her lover?”
Jericho shrugged. “I don’t think so. Crow loved his old lady. I doubt he’d cheat on her. But after the bombing, it didn’t matter why it started anymore. It didn’t matter what really happened to Alessandra. No one ever found Benito’s daughter, and she never came back. The war went on.”
I grabbed his hand, sensing he needed the support to get through the rest of the story.
“Selene and I went to live with our Aunt Gemma, Crow and my dad’s sister.” One side of his mouth pulled into a grimace. “She never wanted kids, and all of a sudden, she had two little mouths to feed. But what was she going to do? Leave us in the street?” He shrugged. “Thor came into the picture, but I think it was about keeping us safe. Gemma and me and Selene.”
“She didn’t love him.”
“They loved each other in their own way,” he said. “Not the way I wanna love my old lady, but it worked for them.”
“At the party, you said she was gone. Did Benito kill her, too?”
He sighed. “Never saw a body. Don’t know.”
I studied the broken expression in his eyes. For a moment, I saw the little boy he’d been, the one who had lost every caregiver he’d ever had. All except Thor.
“Do you think she’s dead?”
“I hope not,” he said. “And when I see that motherfucker Benito, I’m going to make him tell me where she is and then kill him.”
“Jesus.”
“Don’t tell anyone I told you that. But I mean it. I’ll kill him.”
“Cross my heart.” The thought should have scared me, but it didn’t. “Have you ever killed anyone before?”
He didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “The last guy who gave me a ride home.”
He furrowed his brows before realizing I was fucking with him. Then he sank his fingers into my waist, trying to tickle me. I squirmed away, giggling and shoving at his shoulders to get him to stop.
“He’s buried under the porch,” I said through breathless chuckles. “His name was Comet Beam.” That made Jericho laugh harder, digging his fingers into my sides. He climbed on top of me, using his body weight to hold me down, and in the mix of things, I moved my legs to either side of his hips. His cock slotted right up against my clit, a shock of lust shooting up my body.
I gasped, and a moan slipped from my lips.
It had been so long since I’d fucked anyone else.
So. Long.
He pressed his forehead against mine, his scent burying in my nose. God, he smelled good, like deodorant and man and motor oil. I wanted him to pin me down and take advantage. Or maybe I wanted to do that to him. My vagina ached for him to fill her however and wherever he wanted.
He exhaled and rolled off me, leaving me hanging again.
What the fuck? Why didn’t he want me?
“We should try to get some sleep,” he said. “I have to work in the morning.”
“You’re staying?”
“Yeah,” he said. “If you don’t mind. The shop’s like… two seconds away.”
I nodded. “Sure, moonbeam. Stay as long as you want.”
“Stop calling me moonbeam.” He said the words, but there was no bite in them.
“No,” I said. “It’s my nickname for you. And I like it.”
He chuckled to himself, but wrapped an arm under my shoulders and pulled me into his body. I snuggled close to his torso and rested my head on his chest, his strong, steady heartbeat lulling me to sleep.
* * *
“Alba!”
The voice came to me in the depths of my dreams, and I sat upright, looking at the baby monitor on the dresser.
“Alba!”
My mother’s weakened shout again. I glanced at the time.
7:30.
Fuck! I was so late. So fucking late.
I tried to get out of bed, but a heavy weight on the blankets trapped me.
Jericho.
Still sound asleep. He’d stayed on top of the covers the entire night.
Like a fucking gentleman.
Part of me panicked. I’d planned on getting him out before my mother woke. I didn’t want her asking questions and making jokes. And if she saw him? She’d nag until we were naming her grandbabies. She thought I didn’t date enough. She worried about what would happen after she was gone, and she wanted to know someone would be here to take care of me. That I wouldn’t be holed up in this house alone.
To be fair, her concerns were valid.
But the other part of me melted at how sweet he’d been. He’d had an opportunity last night. He could have kissed me. He probably could have fucked me, too. He wanted it. I felt how much he wanted it. And he hadn’t.
Why?
Maybe I’d woman up one day and ask. But not today.
Right now, I had to get him out. I nudged him in the shoulder and he opened his eyes, stretching his arms up over his head.
“What time is it?” he asked, yawning.
Goddamn it, he was so cute first thing in the morning, all rumpled and sleepy, his hair sticking out in odd directions.
“Seven-thirty,” I told him.
“Fuck,” he grumbled, rolling to the side. “Lucky I’m so close. I have to be there in twenty minutes.”
“Alba!” my mother’s voice came again. I went to the intercom and told her I’d be right up.
“You have to go,” I said to Jericho.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Bet you say that to all the guys you drool on in the middle of the night.”
“Gross.” I climbed the stairs and opened the door into the living room, greeting my mom with a big smile.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said.
“Morning, Mom.” I leaned over to give her a kiss. She’d already inclined the bed so she could sit upright. She shifted her body around, but when Jericho came out of the basement, she froze and stared at him.
“Oh, and who’s this?”
“This is my friend, Jericho,” I said. “Jericho, this is my mom, Penny.”
“Nice to meet you, Penny.” He slid his cut on and dropped his boots by the couch, sitting so he could slip them on.
“The pleasure is all mine. Trust me.” The innuendo in her voice made my cheeks burn.
“Mom!” I half whispered, half hissed.
“What?” she asked. “You think he doesn’t know he’s beautiful?”
“He is well aware,” I said.
“He’s sitting right here,” Jericho cut in.
“Sorry for my daughter’s rudeness,” Mom said. “She doesn’t know how to act around cute boys.”
“Well,” Jericho said, “I’ve never known how to act around cute girls, so we match.”
Mom elbowed me in the ribs while I checked her main line and the medicine in her IV drip. She’d need another round before I started for the day, but I was tempted to let the old biddy suffer after the way she teased me.
“Where did you two meet?”
“At a party,” I said.
“Well, that’s not true, is it?” Jericho walked over to the picture of us, grabbing it and showing it to Mom. “Penny, that’s me right there.”
“What? No, it’s not,” Mom said.
“His uncle is Thor, the guy who runs Rose Garage down the street.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mom said. “What a small world!”
“Yep.” I nodded toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” Change the subject, change the subject. “I’ll make some coffee and a bagel to send you on your way.”
His bright smile sent my heartbeat all the way down my legs. I had to clear my throat and turn away to banish the thought of following him to work and fucking him on his bike before he went in.
“Sure,” he said. “That would be great.”
“Vanilla protein mush for me, thanks,” Mom added.
I fished her shake out of the fridge and poured it into a glass, watering it down the way she liked before dropping a straw into it and returning to the living room. She took a sip.
“Ahhh.” She smacked her lips together. “Morning slop.”
“Bagel’s coming right up,” I said. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Black is fine.”
“Hey, same as me,” Mom said. “I knew I liked you.”
They whispered to each other while I worked in the kitchen, and as I went to put the cream cheese on his bagel, I felt eyes on me from the dining room. I looked up and grinned when I caught him leaning against the breakfast table, staring.
“What?”
He shook his head, pursed his lips, and rubbed at the back of his neck. I handed him breakfast and grinned when he took a bite and hummed appreciatively. “Thank you, sunshine.”
Coffee came next. I even gave it to him in one of my favorite to-go mugs that had a recognizable princess-turned-general on the front with text that read, “Well-Behaved Women Rarely Defeat Empires.” Jericho read it and smiled, taking a big swig of the coffee with a deep sigh. “You’re amazing.”
“I know. I probably have a spare toothbrush or something if you want to freshen up.”
“Nah,” he said. “I’ve got all that at the shop. But thanks.”
“Okay.” I crossed my arms over my chest, conflicted about his departure. I liked him. His presence soothed me, and he made me laugh. “I’ll see you around, then.”
“Yeah. I’ll text you.” He grabbed the rest of the bagel and his coffee, leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek before turning to leave. “Goodbye, Penny. Nice to meet you.”
“Goodbye, Jericho,” Mom said.
The door shut behind him. Then her eagle eyes landed on me.
“Don’t start,” I said.
“Tell. Me. Everything.” Her eyes went wide. “Right now.”
“Mom!” I balked.
“C’mon! Give me all the details. Warm my cold, nearly dead heart.”
“I don’t know.” I rubbed my hands over my face. “He’s sweet and kind and…” I shook myself, coming to my senses. “He belongs to a motorcycle club that sells drugs and kills bad guys and… he’s probably a bad guy himself.”
“So?” Mom said, sucking back her smoothie. “Bad guys are always better in bed.”
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you.”
“Listen, Alba,” she said. “You’re only young once. Before you know it, you’ll be a tired old woman whose body is killing itself.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled.
“That’s why I tell you to live out loud. Everyone’s going to have an opinion about you one way or the other.”
I loved her. I truly did. And I had no idea what I’d do when she wasn’t here anymore to give me advice like this.
“Well, he could have fucked me last night and he didn’t,” I said. “I don’t think he’s interested.”
She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Trust me… that’s not how a man looks at a woman he’s not interested in.”
I ignored that comment and the way it made my heart flutter, opting instead to focus on getting ready for the day.
My mother thought I worked remotely doing a high-profile job for a museum. I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth. I didn’t think she’d really care, but there was a part of me that still wanted to hide the fact I went downstairs and talked horny strangers through orgasms. That I exercised in panties and socks I sold to people who watched me masturbate. That in two days I could make what I used to make in a month at the library.
It would make her feel bad, and it was the last thing she needed to worry about. So I dolled myself up, put on my mask, and logged in for my first live stream of the day.