Page 4 of My Older Biker

"You're Roan's daughter."

"I'm also twenty years old and capable of making my own choices. So, stop hiding behind my age and my father and tell me the truth." She leans closer. Her mouth six inches from mine. "Do you want me or not."

I should say no. Should put distance between us. Should tell her to go to the guest room and stay there.

Instead, I say, "Yeah. I want you."

"Then stop talking."

I kiss her before I can think about it. Before I can list the thousand reasons this is wrong. My hand goes to the back of her neck. Fingers tangling in her hair. Pulling her head back so I can kiss her deeper.

She makes a sound. Soft and hungry. Her hands fist in my shirt.

Years of wanting compressed into one point of contact. Her mouth under mine. Her body pressed against me. The soft give of her stomach against my abs. The fullness of her breasts against my chest.

I walk her backward until her back hits the wall. She doesn't resist. Follows the movement. Her hands sliding from my chest to my shoulders to my neck.

I pull back enough to look at her. Her lips are swollen. Her eyes are dark. Her chest is rising and falling fast.

"We should stop," I say.

"We should." She pulls my mouth back to hers.

The kiss turns rougher. My hands slide under the hem of her t-shirt. Bare skin. Warm and soft, and I feel the curve of her waist. I move higher. Cup her breast. No bra. Just skin. Her nipple hard against my palm.

I'm close to taking this further. Close to sliding my hand into her shorts. Close to finding out if she's wet, but I force myself to stop. Pull my hands out from under her shirt. Step back.

She's breathing hard. Staring at me. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because I'm supposed to be keeping you safe."

"You are keeping me safe. From Marrow. Not from yourself."

"Zoe."

"I'm not fragile, Dean. Stop treating me like I am."

I run my hand over my face. Try to get my breathing under control. Try to think past the want that's fogging everything else.

"You need to go to the guest room," I say.

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then I'm going to do something we'll both regret."

She pushes off the wall. Walks past me. Stops at the hallway entrance. Looks back.

"For the record," she says. "I wouldn't regret it."

Then she's gone. Door closing behind her. Leaving me standing in my kitchen hard and shaking and knowing I just crossed a line I've been holding for years.

And knowing I'm going to cross it again.

Chapter 2 — Zoe

I don't sleep.

The guest room bed is comfortable but I lie there staring at the ceiling, listening to the house settle around me.