Free Sinner: Devil's Sons MC by Kathryn Thomas Page B

shutters. The house sat on several acres of land, landscaped to bring out the hidden beauty of the desert.  He rolled the bike into his two-car garage where his 1969 Pontiac GMO was also parked, and he nervously took her in through the garage door that led to his kitchen. Chrome and red appliances shined cleanly—nice, sharp lines.
     
    "Tour?" he asked.
     
    "I'd rather let it unwrap itself, you know? See things as we go," Afia decided.  She grinned boldly. She was here. She was in his house and alone with him. "Are you excited?"
     
    He sighed, laughing. "Excited? Try scared shitless."
     
    "How'd you put it? I don't bite."
     
    His lips curled upwards, and he cocked his head to the side. "What if I want you to?"
     
    Afia's eyebrows lifted, and she chose to ignore his statement.  "I brought along some movies and some card games. Which will it be?"
     
    "I'm a sucker for a woman with a good conversation. I happen to know you're skilled in that arena. Care for coffee? Wine? I can turn on the fireplace in the living room to give it that cozy feel. It's warm enough in here, but the flames are pretty."
     
    "Coffee," she chose.
     
    When the aromatic beans were percolating, he took her to his spacious living room where a giant flat screen dominated the wall above the fireplace. He powered on the flames. He had a typical black leather couch and a gray shag rug. He dashed back into the kitchen to fix two steaming mugs and brought them back, finding Afia had made herself comfortable curled up in his favorite chair. Her oversized cardigan was draped over her entire body, feet tucked under her buttocks. She looked small and vulnerable.
     
    Sam had a crushing sense of protectiveness when he looked at her. He realized she wasn't in any danger with him. He'd rather compromise himself than try to coerce her to do something she wasn't ready to do. He took a seat on the couch and stared. Her modest hijab hid her hair. Her loose-fitting clothes cloaked her figure. Yet, she was the reason he had sleepless nights, trying not to torture himself with dreams of plunging into her body.  Other women advertised everything, leaving nothing to the imagination. He had never seen anything wrong with that in the past, and he still didn't. However, Afia's modesty held its own allure.  There was something about just not knowing .
     
    Afia eyed him over the brim of her mug, a smile teasing at her lips. His hair was tousled and his face had a five o'clock shadow. He lounged on the couch like a panther in repose, ready to leap if he had to. She decided it might be prudent to alert him to the fact her brother was more and more determined to catch her doing something wrong.
     
    She told him about Rayan's questions and suspicions and what lengths she had gone to just to keep him mollified. Sam listened intently. He didn't have any siblings, but enough of the guys in his circle had kid sisters for him to understand Rayan's overzealousness perfectly.
     
    "He's trying to protect you," he stated plainly.
     
    "I wish he would work harder on taking care of himself. He's plagued me for months now, and he's no closer to finding out about you than he was before. I try to be careful. Bionca wouldn't tell a soul, and I don't talk to anybody else. The only way he'd know anything is if he saw with his own eyes. He's just being paranoid."
     
    "He's being vigilante."
     
    "He's being a nuisance."
     
    "Hey, it's kept you in line so far," he said with a grin.
     
    Afia paused and shot him a dirty look, laughing out loud. "For your information, I keep myself in line. Thank you very much."
     
    Sam chuckled and set aside his coffee mug. "What about that Jabar guy?"
     
    "He'll be popping the question any day now."
     
    "And?"  He didn't want to sound possessive, but it was hard not to. He gazed into her mesmerizing eyes. She flicked her tongue along her lips and grinned, hesitating to respond merely to toy with him. Sam smirked and rolled his eyes. Afia