Beyond the Horizon (The Sons of Templar MC Book 4) (4 page)

I screwed my nose up in confusion. “What is why?”

His hands seemed to tighten, and the silhouette of his head turned to regard the same horizon I had been focused on. He moved to look back at me, becoming more seeable as the light began to bathe the valley.

“Your mom, she was sick. Had been for a while I’m guessing,” he clarified.

A knot formed in my stomach at the mention of her. I only nodded.

“She’d been battling for three years, am I right?” he continued tightly.

I nodded again.

“So that’s why,” he said, his voice both hard and soft. “Why you shut down, why you didn’t let me in,” he surmised.

I took a deep breath. “I-I ... yes,” I stuttered, unable to figure out how to explain. I’d never felt closer to someone, even though our time together had been short, it had been magical. But with that closeness came distance. When you say goodbye to someone you’d never felt more connected to, you severed something that turned you into strangers. I felt so deeply for him I didn’t know how to approach this.

“Breaks my heart, babe, you chose to follow that road,” he clipped, his voice hoarse.

I was silent. What could I say?

“But I get it,” he said finally. “I’m mad as fuck you thought whatever you thought to take this road alone, but I get it.”

I chewed my lip, tearing my gaze away from the sunrise that was dancing beautiful colors along the barren landscape. I met chocolate eyes. Something moved behind those eyes. A flicker of understanding that could only come from someone who’d stared into the abyss of grief in which I was currently residing.

“We were together one night; how can you say things like this?” I mumbled, feeling infinitely scared at the fact that whatever it was between us hadn’t dulled in three years.

His arms tightened around me and his eyes flared. “It was a fuck of a lot more than one night, flower, you know that. Don’t try and pull that shit on me. You’ve done it for three years, no more,” he declared firmly.

I sat up a little straighter. “What shit?” I clipped, surprised at the sharpness of my tone.

His eyes searched my face. “Whatever shit you got brewing in that beautiful head to talk yourself out of this.” His hand snaked up my side, and my breath did a little hiccup.

His mouth buried itself in my neck. “I haven’t tasted you in three years, flower. I know you need time. Also, know you need it, too. Need us,” he muttered, moving his head.

I sucked in a breath. I couldn’t argue. Every sensible thought had left the building, and right now the only thing that could salve the burn of my heartbreak was Asher. His touch. The crazy connection we had erasing everything there was ... out there, beyond the horizon in the background.

“I’m taking that as permission, Flower,” he growled.

His mouth captured mine in the next second, and I melted into his touch immediately. His arms pressed me to him, and I moaned into his mouth as the thin fabric of my leggings brushed against his hard length. I needed this, more than oxygen. More than anything at this moment. His hand went to my breast, his cool palm snaking up under my tee and tweaking my nipple.

“Fuck,” he hissed, leaning back. Desire was etched into his face. “I forgot how fuckin’ amazing it is,” he muttered. “Tasting you, having that little body set alight for me and me only.”

I looked at him through my lashes. Arousal had me feeling bold. “I haven’t forgotten,” I whispered. I tightened my hands around his neck and pressed my body against him. Regular Lily had disappeared. This new Lily, the one I didn’t recognize, replaced her. And she was horny. “I haven’t forgotten what you feel like inside me,” I murmured against his neck. His entire body tightened at my words. “I need you to fuck me,” I whispered in his ear.

Asher grasped my hair roughly, pulling my head back so he could meet my eyes.

“You can’t say shit like that,” he growled. “Not when I’m hanging on by a fuckin’ thread, trying to be a gentleman, respectin’ the fact you’re grieving,” he said tightly.

I watched him. “I don’t need a gentleman, I need you, I need us,” I whispered. “You’re better, you make it better,” I continued.

Asher paused for a split second then his mouth was back on mine. This kiss wasn’t like the last, it was intense, frantic, leading somewhere better. His hands were everywhere, my body responding to his touch like it was born for it. Without warning, I was lifted and set lightly on my feet.

Asher grasped my neck, his hand bit into my hip. “Sit back, baby,” he ordered, his voice rough.

I did as he bid, my whole body blazing with electricity, my panties already soaking. I sat up on the bike, leaning back so he could pull down my leggings and panties. I should’ve felt mortified, paralyzed at the fact that I was naked and exposed on the side of the road. I felt none of that. All I felt was need. Frantic, desperate need for Asher.

His eyes devoured me, looking at me, there. He ran his hand over his mouth. “Fuck,” he muttered. “So fuckin’ beautiful. All I want to do is taste that sweet pussy... I’ll do that, later,” he decided, stepping forward and unbuttoning his jeans.

He grasped my hips and I was up again, straddling him once more, this time sans pants. There was no warning, no build up, he slammed straight into me, right to the hilt. I was ready, primed. I cried out at the magnificent feeling of him inside me. The twinge of pain I felt from his wide length stretching me was nothing next to the pleasure.

He grasped my neck roughly. “Ride me, baby,” he commanded in a voice thick with desire.

So I did. With the morning rays kissing our bodies, I rode him. Rode him with abandon, this new Lily letting everything go but the two of us. Asher’s eyes never left mine, and his fingers bit into my ass, one hand clutching my neck so my face brushed his. Our feverish lovemaking was made all the more intense with our gazes locked on each other, his chocolate eyes searing my soul.

“Come, baby, let go,” he demanded hoarsely.

On his order, my entire body convulsed and I cried out through my release. The pleasure unleashed was like nothing I’d ever felt in three years. In my whole life. It was almost blinding. Asher’s arms tightened around me as I milked the release out of him. He captured my lips as he pulsed inside me.

We sat breathing heavily, our noses touching.

“Fuck, flower,” he murmured against my mouth. “Being inside you, it’s the best feeling on the planet. But you riding me on my bike,” his hands tightened and he shook his head, “launches me right into the stratosphere.” He nuzzled my neck.

My heart was beating furiously and I vaguely registered his words, my heart leaping at them. At the fact he was inside me once more, his hands were on me. I didn’t get much closer to any form of coherent thought. As he gently lifted me off him and set me on my feet, reality trickled back in at about the same rate as something leaked down my leg.

Hmm. Sex in the middle of nowhere without a condom, not so glamorous as you’d think, I thought with a certain degree of detachment. I was lucky I was on the pill as I realized our lack of protection.

Asher snatched what looked like a tee from one of the bags on his bike, gently cleaning me. His head moved so he could stare at me as he did so. My heart skipped a beat at the expression on his face, the tenderness of such an action. My lips stayed pursed. Nymphomaniac Lily was slowly disappearing, the regular, awkward shy and decidedly not nympho Lily was returning. Shame would be well on its way. For now, I bathed in the warm glow of the sunshine, of Asher’s touch, chipping away at my ice cold grief.

I pulled on my leggings awkwardly when he handed them to me. Once I had myself decent, Asher stepped in front of me, hands at my neck. He searched my face with worry.

“You okay, flower?” he asked softly after a moment of silence.

That was a good question.

“Right now, in this moment, yes,” I told him quietly. “On the whole ... not so much.” The honest statement came out of me automatically. I couldn’t hide with him. It was the first time I’d made any kind of admission I was struggling. That this was real.

He furrowed his brows. “You need to get home. To bed,” he decided. “My bed,” he clarified.

Bed.

Home.

“Fuck,” I exclaimed loudly, remembering who I had in my bed at my home.

Asher’s brow rose. “Did you just curse, flower?” he teased.

I didn’t have time to revel in how attractive his already smoking face was when amused.

“I need to go home. To my home, like now,” I demanded quickly.

“Okay, we’ll go there, if that’s what you want,” he agreed, beginning to turn us to his bike.

I clutched his hand. “Not we … just me,” I told him firmly.

He frowned slightly. “Not leavin’ you, babe, not again,” he declared roughly.

“Well, you’re not coming into my house. I’ve got ... um … company,” I mumbled.

I cringed at how that sounded. It sounded like I was some kind of hussy. Red crept up my cheeks.

Asher’s face turned blank. “I fuckin’ know that,” he ground out. “That certain visitor will be learning just how unwelcome he is when we get back.”

I gaped at him. There were a multitude of things wrong with that statement.

“How do you
‘fuckin’ know that
’?” I used air quotes, mimicking his voice with sarcasm I didn’t know I was capable of.

“I followed you home. Sat outside your place, waiting for fuckface to leave. I was dis-fucking-pleased when he didn’t,” he ground out.

I only stared at him. “You followed me home,” I repeated quietly.

“Yep. Not surprised you didn’t notice, state you were in, the fact that Abercrombie didn’t is a testament to what a douche he is,” he clipped.

I let out a breath. “I do not need this pissing contest right now,” I snapped. “I also don’t have time to educate you on the fact that sitting outside someone’s house all night is firmly in
Criminal Minds
territory,” I added seriously. “I need to go home, alone and sort out my head.”

Asher’s face softened a smidgeon. “Fuck, babe, I know that. That you need time. It doesn’t mean I’m gonna like your boyfriend being the one comforting you, not me,” he said fiercely.

I pointed to the bike. “Pretty sure that wasn’t Aiden just then, that was you,” I informed him, and myself. Mental forehead slap. I was a horrible person. I shelved that bit of self-loathing for later when I wasn’t on the side of a road.

Asher’s face turned stormy. “I’m not having this shit out here. Get on the bike, babe,” he echoed my internal sentiment.

I let out a breath of relief and took the helmet he offered me.

On the ride, the usual feeling of freedom didn’t sink in. Pressed into Asher’s warm and hard back, I realized the magnitude of everything that had just happened. Asher and me. After three years. It was amazing, life shattering, like no time had passed. He seemed to feel something for me. More than I’d thought. Not what I felt for him. The depth of feeling that had settled in my soul after one night wasn’t something he could possibly feel. I was embarrassed I even felt it. It wasn’t just that, I had tears prickling at the corners of my eyes and shame burning in my belly.

I had a boyfriend.

A boyfriend who was caring, supportive, and in my bed right now. I’d just let an ex ... whatever Asher was, have sex with me on the back of his bike in broad daylight. Or the beginning of daylight. I hadn’t even let Aiden past second base. I wasn’t exactly a brazen hussy, I knew that considering I’d slept with only one person, but I was a bitch. Aiden was in my bed right now. He had supported me through my nightmare, patient and caring. This and the ever present weight of grief on my chest had my cocktail of emotions turning sour in my stomach.

Getting off this bike meant going back to reality. Saying goodbye to Asher. Whatever it was between us was not something I could deal with. I could barely breathe after what had just happened. I couldn’t deal with it long term. I had to think of Aiden. But in that moment, I indulged in fantasy, traveled back to the memory that would chase away the complications of the present with the beauty of the past.

Three Years Ago

Normally I’m not one to drink into the early hours with a group of bikers and beautiful women, who seemed to radiate everything I wanted to embody. But I did. I may not have spoken much, but my silence didn’t seem to be noticeable, nor did it distance me like it normally would. Maybe because it didn’t stick out much, the scary biker Bull, beating me with his lack of words. I felt a sort of camaraderie in our mutual silence. He was battling demons of his own, much scarier than mine I knew, but it was comforting to know that being trapped in your own head wasn’t something that only happened to weak college girls, big bikers could be brought mute if the demon was big enough.

To my disappointment, Asher had left midway through our conversation, one I thought had been going well. He had frowned down at a text. His eyes moved to me and he regarded me soberly. As I was far from sober, I didn’t do too well registering what lingered beyond his gaze. His hand had bitten into my hip. I sucked in a breath at the contact, never feeling attraction like I did from his simple touch.

His eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Babe, I’ve gotta go,” he declared.

I tried to hide my disappointment, though I was afraid that alcohol might work in taking away my shyness, it also hampered me masking my emotions.

Asher grinned, he brushed a wayward strand from my face. “I’m happy that you seem to feel about the same as I do about my departure,” he said quietly.

I stared at him. Couldn’t stop, even if you paid me. This might be the only time a guy this hot ever paid any attention to me, looked at me like this. I was soaking up every part of this moment like a sponge. Especially his hand at my hip.

“I’ll be back for you,” he promised darkly, his eyes glinting with desire.

I swallowed. “What?” I half squeaked in surprise.

The hand at my hip tightened. “You stay here, don’t drink anymore.” He frowned down at the glass in my hands. “You’re cute as fuck drunk, baby, but I want you to be able to sit on the back of a bike.” His eyes darkened more. “I want you to be able to remember how hard I fuck you tonight, and I want you to be able to suck my cock,” he murmured.

It took a full couple of seconds for his crude words to penetrate my foggy mind. They penetrated my womb the moment they left his beautiful mouth that wasn’t inhibited by alcohol. I sucked in a breath. No one had ever talked to me like that before. I didn’t think people actually talked like that. I loved it. The image of him ...
fucking
me, of me doing that to him, had my panties dampen. It was a feeling I was not used to. I knew what being turned on felt like, I wasn’t a completely innocent virgin, but I didn’t know what this felt like. Feeling like my whole body was on fire as a
Hot with a capital H
biker stood in front of me saying dirty things.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, hand at my jaw. “See that my little flower likes the sound of that,” he said, eyes on my lips.

I didn’t say anything. I licked my lips, feeling them drying out.

His eyes narrowed. “I’ve got to leave. Like I said, I’m coming back. You’re on water till then. Then you’re on the back of my bike, then in my bed,” he declared hotly.

I kept my silence, that all sounding good, but in a fairytale sense. I couldn’t actually believe this guy was saying this stuff to me. Plain Lily Smith had a sex god telling her dirty things and promising her to take her to bed.

Did alcohol also cause hallucinations?

His thumb brushed my lip. “I’m gonna need some kind of verbal confirmation before I let you go, flower,” he instructed. “I know your body’s telling me yes in a million different ways, I need your mouth to say it.”

“I’m affirmative on ... all of that,” I said quickly not even registering how cringe worthy my words were.
Affirmative?
What was I, a commando in a bad action movie?

Asher smirked. “Good.”

Then, to my utter amazement, he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly to mine in a closed mouth kiss. I shut my eyes, trying to imprint the moment in my memory. When I opened them, he was gone.

Did that really happen?

Hours later, this was one of the reasons why I was sitting here with people who were both strangers and friends at the same time. I was clinging to the hope that conversation was not only real, but that he was coming back. Well that, and also because I was having fun. I never had fun around big groups of people. I was too shy. They made me anxious, had me feeling sick to my stomach. This group, this motley and disgustingly attractive group, had me feeling the kind of ease that I only felt around my mom or Bex.

I glanced down at my phone that had started ringing. Speak of the Devil. I grinned as Gwen was carried into the house by Cade and stood to answer the phone.

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted brightly. Although I had done as instructed and kept to water, my brain was still swimming in the depths of tequila.

“Heya, peanut, it’s after midnight. Just calling to make sure you hadn’t turned into a pumpkin or anything,” she greeted lightly.

There was no sternness or judgment in Mom’s voice. I was almost twenty-one and a grown adult. I didn’t have a curfew, I’d never had one in fact, but me staying out this late wasn’t exactly normal.

“My glass slippers are still firmly on my feet,” I joked. “I’m having a great time with Gwen and her friends….” I paused, chewing my lip. Asher hadn’t arrived, and I felt he might never. I had to prepare my mom, though. “I … um … might not be coming home tonight,” I said quietly, moving even further away from the remaining group. My wanderings led me to a dark corner at the side of the house.

There was a pause, then I was pretty sure the sounds of clapping were heard in the background on the other end of the phone.
Yes, clapping.

“Are we talking a real life male-female sleepover?” she gushed as if the thought of her daughter potentially having a one-night stand pleased her.

That was my mom.

“Well, I don’t know, I may still come home,” I hedged, not wanting to keep my hopes up.

“Pish posh you’ll be home. Whoever it is that has finally gotten my Lily to open her beautiful self to, will be unlikely to be letting her go home alone,” she stated decisively. “Though, do use protection. I know you’re on the pill, but that’s not one hundred percent. As much as I want to be a grandma, I know you seem hell bent on that college education,” she stated lightly.

Such conversations with my mom were not unusual. She was a free spirit. Open about everything in life and all about free love.

I still felt awkward talking to her about this. Boys had never been on the scene, so we’d not had the opportunity to talk about this. Actually, we had, she’d given me multiple sex talks, but since sex was never a real possibility for me, I’d merely gotten embarrassed at her blasé attitude toward it all.

“I’ll text you,” I promised.

“Okay, hon. And I know it’s your first time. So be sure. Be comfortable. Make sure he treats you right ... and that he takes care of you before he finishes,” she added mischievously.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, gross, Mom.”

“Text me if he does turn out to be an idiot and stand my beauty up. I’ll come and get you,” she offered.

“Mom, it’s late. I’m not doing that,” I protested.

“I’m up, not likely to be going to sleep, I’m feeling inspired,” she told me brightly.

This too was not unusual. My mom was an artist and came with all the idiosyncrasies of being creative. When she was inspired she was usually in a sort of trance, not eating, sleeping, or anything until she was done. This happened routinely over the course of my childhood, and when it did happen, I’d take over all of the household chores and responsibilities. I guessed a lot of kids would resent their moms for obsessively painting for days at a time and leaving them to shop for groceries and pay power bills, but I didn’t. It was part of what made my mom who she was. She accepted every part of me, even the parts I couldn’t accept.

“Okay,” I relented, knowing how embarrassing it would be to get my mom to pick me up when Asher realized that he could do much better than me.

“Love you, baby,” she said.

“Love you too,” I whispered back.

I rang off and stared into the darkness, the sounds of laughter and music carrying slightly.

Who was I kidding?

Asher wasn’t coming back.

“You’re an idiot, Lily,” I muttered to myself, lifting my phone to call my mom and request extraction from this situation.

“What are you doing hiding in dark corners talking to yourself, Little Flower?” Asher’s voice came out of the darkness.

I jumped and let out a muffled squeal as his hands circled around me. His arms tightened on my mid-section and brought my back flush to his front.

“Not that I mind being in a dark corner with you, baby. It means I get to put my hands wherever I want without unwelcome eyes,” his voice tickled my ear, and his hand ran up my side to the bottom of my breast, his other hand dancing at the top of my pants.

I sucked in a strangled breath, wanting his fingers to move, needing them to, but also vaguely aware of the people not far away. It didn’t even matter to me he was a virtual stranger, and his hands were roving in a way that was decidedly familiar. It felt right. Or maybe that was my hormones talking. Or tequila. Or this was an invasion of the body snatchers type situation. Either way, I was enjoying it. And my little holiday away from the shy and anxious Lily.

He stayed like that a moment, before he spun me round, quick enough to make my head spin and his hands spanned my neck. I could make out his silhouette in the darkness, but not much more.

“But,” he continued, “someone like you, is not someone to be quickly taken in a dark corner. Someone like you needs to be savored, worshiped, in the light, where I can get a full view of your magnificence,” he declared roughly.

My stomach did a little flip. I didn’t even care that what he was saying was impossible. Me, magnificent? He was obviously using some line to get me into bed. He didn’t need to. His words and his deep husky voice hypnotized me nonetheless.

“So, we’re leaving. Are you good with that babe?” he questioned.

“Um, yeah,” I muttered. “Does this mean I get to ride on your bike?” I asked as he clasped my hand and yanked me out of the darkness.

He gave me a sideways grin. “Only way I ever take you anywhere is on the back of my bike,” he answered firmly as we rounded the house.

It didn’t even matter I was leaving without saying goodbye. I knew it was rude, but I wasn’t about to ruin my chances of handing my V card to a sex god for mere pleasantries. I needed him now before he realized just how plain I was. We stopped in front of a beautiful sleek bike, illuminated softly by the street lights.

I gaped at it. “Wow. I like your bike,” I declared, running my eyes over it.

I moved to an arguably better view. Asher looked at me with something like amazement. I suddenly felt self-conscious at my uncharacteristic chatter. He yanked on my hand to pull my body flush to his.

“I can’t have you on it without knowing what you taste like,” he muttered against my mouth.

Then he was kissing me. I mean, kissing me. Not chaste like before. This was the kind of kiss I read about in romance novels. Ones people wrote sonnets or pop songs about. One I didn’t even know existed. His tongue plundered my mouth, he lay me to ruin with one kiss.

I’d been kissed before. I may have had social issues, but a couple of guys had foraged past that to awkwardly kiss me in a way that had me uneager to repeat the experience.

This was not one of those times. I would have been quite happy to be standing there with Asher kissing me until, oh, I don’t know, the end of time. When he released me, my knees were jelly and I felt like my whole body was tingling, I was pulsing in between my legs.

Asher stared at me. “Fuck. Someone like you, kisses like that? I can’t wait to see how you ride my cock, flower,” he said hoarsely.

I swallowed roughly at his words.

He reached into a compartment on the bike, straightening and standing in front of me once more.

“You ever ridden before?” he asked as if he hadn’t just rocked my frigging world.