Free Broken Crescent (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 2) by Kathryn Thomas Page B

shouted.
     
    Reiken pulled up on the opposite side, yanking off her helmet and shaking her golden mane in frustration. She cast a glance at Quentin, and he smiled and put his head down, knowing damn well she could’ve beat Kalei. Rei was doing him a favor. He’d pay for it later.
     
    “Looks like you won,” Reiken replied. “GeeGee?”
     
    They left the place in a hurry. It was time to get Tokyo out of jail.
     
    ***
     
    It wasn’t until after the paperwork and legalities were squared away that Sam finally got to pull his right hand man aside and ask a few pointed questions. They sat in Sam’s living room, having drinks.
     
    “So, what happened back there? I got the sense you and Reiken had an unspoken conversation going on that whole time the rest of us weren’t privy to.” Sam drew on a Cuban cigar from his friend, the investment banker by day.
     
    “What do you mean?” Quentin feigned ignorance. He chuckled ruefully, knowing he couldn’t keep a secret from his friend. He tossed back his dreadlocks and shrugged casually.
     
    “You know what I’m talking about,” said Sam, pointing at him with the hand in which he held a tumbler of whiskey. “You two had something going on.”
     
    “Well…let’s just say that little chat me and you had a while back was coming from personal experience,” Quentin conceded. “Some of us are built for this life, and some of us aren’t. I told you I’m starting to feel like I’m too old for this shit.”
     
    “Then, why would you tell me to give up Afia, knowing you have something like that to go home to? Not that I was looking, but…“—Sam grinned—“…she’s a looker.”
     
    Quentin fired back with more emotion than he intended. “Because, Sam! Some of us are built for this life, and Rei is . I’m the Afia in this case, you understand? I know what it’s like worrying about the person you love. I know what it’s like to want to see her when I wake up and when I go to bed, to not have to worry about races and the dark underbelly of biker gangs. I want a normal fucking life, man. How the hell can anybody living faster than the speed of life have that?”
     
    The question stayed with Sam deep into the night, long after his friend was gone. There was so much more at stake than Afia losing her family by staying with him. He wasn’t prepared to give up the motorcycle club.  What if, like Quentin, she needed that from him?
     

 
    CHAPTER 9
     
    She slid between the sheets, a rose pressed between the pages of a book. She was naked and fragrant from a long soak in bath salts and bath oils, hairless below the neck from carefully removing any unsightly body hair and oiled to a slick golden sheen with sweet coconut oil. Her lustrous brown hair floated down to the pillow as she laid on her side and studied his face.
     
    Sam slumbered peacefully, undisturbed. Afia was sneaking. In his attempt to shield her from spiritual condemnation, he had kept himself from her. She was awed by the reserve required to be chaste in each other’s company for the several weeks since they had renewed their connection, but her restraint was growing thin. She knew her birth control would now be effective.
     
    When it came to her morals, try as she might, Afia couldn’t see anything wrong with making love to the man she loved. True, they weren’t married, but what was marriage other than a meeting of the minds and agreement of souls? She was sure she was made for him, and he was made for her. It was starting to make less and less sense to stay away from each other.
     
    Wanting him was an ache that made her tongue thick with thirst for the quenching shower of his kisses. Her skin tingled to be touched, and her womanhood threatened to blossom each and every time he drew close enough to stir her.  His scent was encoded in her memory. She inhaled, reveling in the smell of his sheets and comforter, his skin, and his body. The need was fierce.
     
    Afia reached a slender hand to