Free Forbidden (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 1) by Kathryn Thomas Page A

showed off a few well-timed stunts to her amusement, and when the hour got almost too late for them to be out any longer, Afia slipped into his arms like she belonged there. She presented her face, and the moonlight recast her as silver and alabaster. She was like a statue of a goddess, in Sam's eyes, enchanting and irresistible. Her lips were softly parted, eyes softly closed. Sam gazed down at her, wanting to crush her closer and take her right then and there, but he didn't. He didn't dare. He let her close the gap and chastely buss her lips to his.
     
    "Thank you," she whispered.
     
    "For?" Her head rested against his upper chest. Sam refrained from putting his arms around her. It was almost like foreplay. Letting Afia control when and how their bodies should make contact had him wound tighter than a spring.
     
    "For being a conundrum. For being out of the ordinary." She wrapped her arms around him and lightly pressed her upper body to his.
     
    "You're that to me," he said with a smile. "It's getting chilly. Let's get you home. You have that thesis to work on in the morning."
     
    "Ugh! When will it all be over?"
     
    "When you walk across that stage and get your master's. But, after that there's work, so...when you retire?"
     
    Afia giggled and hopped on the bike behind her boyfriend. Even thinking the word make her feel tremulous with wonder. He delivered her home safely, and she ran inside before she got the nerve to take their innocent kiss from earlier in the night a step further.
     
    When Afia made it inside her apartment, she felt like she had passed yet another milestone and broken yet another rule. A twinge of anxiety gave her pause. It was an innocent kiss, but a kiss. After the pointed question from Rayan, however, she knew she had to be more careful. No more skipping family get-togethers, no more missing mosque. She sank back into her pillows with a yawn, resolving to remove all doubt from Rayan's mind. It was the only way she would be able to continue to see Sam.
     

 
    CHAPTER 7
     
    "Ready?"
     
    "As ready as I can be," Afia spoke into the helmet. They were on their way to Sam's house for the first time in their three month relationship. The plan was to spend the weekend together, and things were in place that not even her nosey mother would suspect where she was going. It had taken time to get to the point where she felt comfortable enough with Sam to go somewhere as intimate as his home, but now that they were headed there, she couldn't wait to press ahead before she changed her mind.
     
    Afia had done everything else right. She had made it to every Saturday dinner. She had only skipped a few services at mosque. Her courtship with Jabar was well underway. Meanwhile, Rayan was spiraling deeper into a nosedive, and there wasn't anything she could do to save him from himself. It was disheartening that her parents paid more attention to seeing her married than seeing to her older brother.
     
    He was drinking. Heavily. He was gambling, she was certain. Money kept coming up missing. He had gotten fired from Asada's boutique. He had been evicted from his townhome and was living in their parents' basement. Yet, he still had the audacity to give her the third degree anytime he got her alone.
     
    Afia sighed and said, "I needed this. Spring break couldn't come soon enough."
     
    Sam gripped the handlebars, palms sweaty. She had no idea, but he was just as nervous as she was. The prospect of having her to himself for three days made him question his sanity. Was it possible he could stick to her rigid boundaries the whole time? He accelerated, eating up the miles from her place to his.
     
    As a mechanical engineer, Sam's salary afforded him a modest ranch house at the edge of the city. The motorcycle cruised to a halt in front of the split level home, and Afia gazed up, impressed by the place. It was sided in white paneling, covered with a shingled roof, and dotted with windows bracketed by black shutters.