The Bikers forbidden claim

Chapter 2

Mara

Heat flooded my face as my eyes snapped back up to meet his.

Zander's lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk. Those silver-gray eyes gleamed with amusement as he leaned against my doorframe, completely aware of where my gaze had been lingering.

"I…you…" I started but my brain chose that moment to desert me.

How humiliating.

"Cat got your tongue?" Zander teased, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer.

His towering frame filled my small entryway.

“Or are you just too busy staring?"

My cheeks burned and I looked away.

"I wasn't staring," I lied, my eyes wandering. I couldn't afford to look him in the face, especially not knowing that he would be smirking.

"Sure you weren't." He fired back, his eyes travelling down my body in a slow, deliberate sweep that made my skin tingle.

I saw something flash in his eyes, something dark as he took in my appearance.

"Dressed up for something, Princess?" He asked, gaze lingering on my outlined pebbles.

I had completely forgotten what I was wearing. The black dress that hugged every curve and a plunging neckline that left little to imagination. The thin material made wearing a bra impossible, leaving my n*****s visible against the fabric.

I had worn it to seduce Tyler.

The reminder made my stomach twist, but before I could respond, Zander's expression shifted. His jaw tightened, gaze darkening as his eyes raked over my body.

His scorching gaze ignited something inside me and I clamped my thighs.

"f**k," Zander muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair.

“ What's the meaning of this? Wearing that dress that screams f**k me until I'm ruined?” His voice held something dark, something that made my stomach churn with unfiltered desire.

My breath hitched at his words, heat pooling low in my belly.

"That's none of your business," I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest. The movement only pushed my breasts up and I didn't miss how his eyes followed.

"It is when Marcus asked me to keep you safe." Zander's voice dropped an octave.

“ Princess, that's going to be hard when you're dressed like every man's wet dream.”

Zander stepped closer and leaned down, his hot breath fanning my exposed cleavage.

My breath caught. "Don't call me that."

"What? Princess?" He stepped even closer, backing me against the wall beside my door. His hand trapped me, caging me between his hard muscled body and the wall.

"Why not? That's what you are, isn't it? Marcus's precious little sister, sheltered and untouched."

The last word felt like a challenge.

"You don't know anything about me," I whispered, hating how breathless I sounded.

"No?" His eyes dropped to my lips. "I know you wore this dress for attention," he leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear. "I know you're standing here and your n*****s are so hard I can see them through that dress. I know you are dripping, your virgin p***y is pulsing, throbbing."

Oh God. Shame flooded my senses at how accurate his observations were.

"I…" My voice came out strangled.

Zander pulled back just enough to look at me, and the heat in his eyes made my knees weak. "That's what I thought."

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the intensity in his gaze pulling me in, threatening to swallow me whole.

Then Zander stepped back, breaking the spell.

"Go change," he ordered, his voice still rough. "Unless you want to spend the next three months fighting me off."

"Fighting you off?" I tried to sound offended, but it came out curious.

He smiled, the kind of smile that screams danger.

"Princess, if you walk around my place dressed like that, I might not responsible for what happens."

Zander POV

I should not think about Marcus's little sister this way.

I should feel this way but watching Mara disappear up the stairs, her ass barely covered by that scrap of fabric she called a dress, made every good intention I had go straight to hell.

Seven years.

Seven years freaking years since I had last seen her.

She was a skinny thirteen-year-old with braces and an attitude.

Back then, calling her princess and ruffling her hair was easy and harmless.

Now she was all curves with long legs and those f*****g lips that I wanted wrapped around…

No! Not going there. I can't think of that now.

I dragged a hand down my face and tried to think about anything else.

The upcoming church, the mission I would be overseeing next week and the fact that Marcus would literally kill me if he knew what I was thinking about his baby sister.

Amidst those distracting thoughts, I remembered the way she had looked at me when she opened that door.

The way her eyes had traveled down my body, lingering on my c**k. The way her pupils had dilated when I had stepped closer. The way her n*****s had hardened under that dress, two perfect points that made my mouth water.

And the fact that she had worn that dress—dressed like she wanted to be f****d until she couldn't walk—made something dark and possessive unravel in my chest.

Marcus had mentioned something about her boyfriend, about it being a bad day for her.

I didn't know the details and I didn't ask. That didn't matter.

What I did know was that she had opened the door looking like sin wrapped in black fabric, and every protective instinct I had twisted into something much darker.

All I could think of was spreading her on my bed and…

Stop!

I heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up.

Mara had changed into jeans and an oversized sweater that should have made her look modest and safer.

Only that it didn't.

Because now all I could think about was what was underneath. Those curves hidden under layers of fabric. Those n*****s I could still see perfectly in my mind.

"Better?" she asked, her voice challenging.

"Not really," I admitted, picking up her suitcase. "But it'll do."

Her eyes narrowed. "You are an ass, you know that?"

"I have heard that alot.” I headed for the door.

“ Hearing it from you is a compliment though, Princess.”

"I told you not to call me that." She fired back, still feisty like before.

" I don't take orders from you." I held the door open, watching her grab her purse.

"Three months, Mara. Do you think you can handle living with me that long without driving me crazy?"

She stopped right in front of me, so close I could smell her perfume. She smirked, her gaze trailing to the growing bulge between my legs.

"The question is," she said meeting my eyes with a boldness that went straight to my c**k, "can you handle living with me?"

Then she walked past me, her shoulder brushing mine, leaving me standing there like an i***t.

Yeah. This was going to be the longest three months of my f*****g life.

That didn't stop the silly smile that broke on my lips.