Sinner: Devil's Sons MC (9 page)

The climax struck. She lifted off the bed again, buoyed by ecstasy. Her embrace tightened, and her inner grip massaged his shaft so expertly that Sam's erection jerked inside of her, and he yanked out as his orgasm expelled his milky seed upon her taut stomach. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she tried to pull him back down. He gasped, a chuckle rumbling from his heaving chest. He gently eased her hands away, settling on the bed beside her and kissing her fingers. "Hang on," he murmured breathlessly.

She mewled in pleasure. Her thighs came back together, and her inner flower seemed to shiver with delight as the orgasm extended. She groaned, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Sam kissed her shoulder and held her to his chest, as she struggled to come back down. The feel of her losing control for him sent his heart racing. He kissed her eyelids and her nose. As she gradually stopped trembling, he tenderly kissed her lips.

Then, he pushed himself up from the comfortable bed and ducked into his bathroom for a warm washcloth to wipe away the evidence of what they had done. In his brief absence, Afia had the time to think about what she had done. She thought she would feel guilty, but she didn't. She felt...complete. 

CHAPTER 8

"Let me get this straight," said Bionca. "When you say you broke all the rules, do you mean you broke
all
the rules?"

Afia stared at her feet. "All of them," she said in a small, timid voice. But, the smile on her face was loud as an exclamation point.

"Oh my freakin' god!" Bionca shouted in amazement. "Jesus H. Corpus Christi, what did he do to you? He gave you wings. He's some type of kickass sorcerer dude wielding his magic wand!"

"Okay, stop it," Afia said with a laugh.

Bionca walked around her best friend, trying to spot the changes. She could see them now that she was looking, little differences.  Afia had a glow about herself that hadn't quite been there before her weekend away with the biker, like she had gotten a good schooling on what it meant to be a woman, and Bionca was blown away. She waved her hands in front of her face and shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. "So, what about your mom and dad?"

Afia turned away, twisting her fingers nervously. "I have no idea. I have to tell them. I have to get up the nerve some kind of way and let them know I can't be with a man like Jabar. I mean, I care about Sam, Bionca. I really, really care about him."

"Yeah, no shit." Bionca giggled. "Sounds like the perfect speech to start rehearsing. It's Monday. Think you can have it all together by Saturday when you go over to their house for dinner?"

"Please, don't rush me, friend. I'm a walking bundle of nerves right now. I can't even focus. I can barely believe it happened. But, it did. More than once. Kind of all weekend."

"TMI," Bionca pumped the brakes.

Afia blushed and continued, "The hardest hurdle to cross is probably going to be my brother, but I think if I can make him understand that my heart tells me this is right, then he might be able to accept it."

Bionca scrunched up her nose doubtfully. From everything she knew about Afia's family, she was sure the love-struck girl was probably underestimating the repercussions of her actions, but she was proud of Afia for taking initiative. What could they do? Ex-communicate her? "Take it one person at a time. You tell your mom while you're helping her get dinner together. If she doesn't pull out a steak knife and chop you into pieces, it might be safe to move on to your dad. I don't know. You got any Kevlar?" she joked.

Afia went into her bedroom to relive every second of her weekend alone with Sam, feeling like a new creature, like someone ethereal and barely there. Her body was present, but her mind was wherever he was. Was this love? She scoffed at the notion. At best, it was an infatuation fueled by mutual attraction.

Sam had dropped her off at her apartment Monday morning on his way to work, their weekend having extended by one more night as they explored the pleasures of physical intimacy. She was too old for fairytales and wise enough to know it took more than sharing a bed to make a life together. But, Afia was also aware that although the commitments made during their fateful weekend together might be temporal, they were sincere. She cared about him, and he cared about her. She didn't regret what had happened. She told herself she was ready to face the consequences.

For the rest of the week, she did as Bionca had instructed. She practiced the speech she would give her Maman about why she felt it was important that she pursue a relationship with Sam instead of settle with a man she had no affections for, like Jabar. By Wednesday night when her boyfriend picked her up for their customary midweek date, she was bubbling with excitement to tell him her plans.

"You're really going to do it?" he asked. The biker had made one of his rare transformations from rough and rugged to polished and professional. They strolled around in an art gallery where a friend of his had a showing. She gazed up at the massive graffiti art that covered the wall from ceiling to floor.

"Yeah," she said finally. "I'm really going to do it. I want you to meet my family. Be prepared for them to be cold as ice until they get it through their heads that I'm serious about you, but eventually I think you'll come to understand them."

He nodded in pleasure. She slipped her warm fingers into his, and Sam pulled her closer for the first time without her permission. The things that had happened between them made him comfortable enough. She fit in the crook of his arm like she belonged there. "I'm willing to try," he said.

They enjoyed a wine tasting after the art show, and it was past ten o'clock when they walked out the doors of the gallery. They continued to hold hands as they ambled at a leisurely pace around the corner to where his motorcycle was parked. It was such a warm and romantic night, Afia wasn't ready to leave. Sam moved to climb aboard the bike, and she tugged on his hand to pull him back. She smiled at him coyly, receiving his smile in return.

She stepped under the streetlight into his open arms. They were so engrossed in one another neither of them noticed the group of men walking past. Sam's lips met hers in a heated kiss that said he couldn't wait to get her alone. She moaned in instant arousal. His hands slipped to the base of her spine. She wasn't one for public displays of affection, but he was so tempting. It was just a kiss.

"Shameless." The word was flung at her in Iranian. Afia stilled.  She recognized the voice. She didn't dare turn around.

"Afia?" Sam said her name quizzically, wondering what was wrong, why she had stopped.

At the sound of her name, the group of men was halted by the man walking in the center. "Afia?" Rayan said, his voice trembling with fury.

She took off running. She didn't stop until the voices shouting after her were drowned out by the squeal of the tires of the taxi she dashed out in front of, barely missing her. She clambered inside and shouted directions in both Iranian and English, flustered by what had happened. Her brother had seen her! Her brother!

She bit her nails in a panic. Her thoughts raced, wondering what she could say or do to get herself out of trouble. She had left Sam! Had they fought? What had happened? Why hadn't she stayed to stick up for herself? A keening sound erupted from her lips. Hot tears flowed over her cheeks, and she was shaking so hard her teeth started to chatter.

When her cellphone rang, Afia jumped at the sound. She quickly pulled it out of her purse and stared at the number. It was Sam. She answered the phone weakly, "Sam?"

"What happened? Darling, where are you? Who was that? Are you okay? I'm headed to your apartment."

"No!" she shouted. "No, don't go to my apartment, whatever you do. That was my brother, Sam. He'll kill you if he sees you again."

"You can't ask me not to come to you, Afia. Don't ask me not to do that. I have to see you and make sure everything is okay."

"I'm in a taxi, and I'm headed home. I know my brother will make his way there, and he'll probably be drunk, and I know he'll be livid. Believe me, I can handle him better than anyone when he's like that, but I can't allow the situation to become inflamed by your presence. Please, Sam!" Her voice cracked.

He could tell she was crying. She didn't want him going to her apartment. His bristled with rage. He knew Rayan was her brother, but he couldn't fathom leaving Afia to face him alone. If she said it was the best thing, however, he had no choice but to listen to her. Sam cursed loudly and angrily, gripping the handlebars of his bike as he whipped the sleek projectile around in an illegal U-turn.

"Fine," he caved. "Afia, call me. Call me as soon as he leaves. Don't let the night end without me hearing your voice."

"I will. I'm home. Ride safely."

She hung up the phone and shoved the money for her fare into the taxi driver's hands, climbing out of the car. Her hijab had fallen off in her flight. She ducked her head and hurried into the building. She knew he was coming. She had to prepare.

The maroon door creaked open, and Afia entered the living room. She took several steadying breaths, and she sat on the edge of the couch. She waited for the pounding knocks that thundered at her door within the half hour. Even though she was ready for it, the sound gave her a start anyway. Bionca groggily padded out of her room as Afia was opening the door.

"Who is that—"

"You slut!" Rayan's hand connected with the side of Afia's face in a blow so hard it whipped her head to the side. She screamed in pain and horror, flung to the floor by the force. Afia looked up at her brother in alarm. Bionca was on his back clawing at his face like a madwoman.

"Bionca! Bionca!" she shouted.

Afia had to take control of the situation. She couldn't have this happening. Not here. Not like this. She threw herself to her feet and quickly shut the door so their neighbors wouldn't witness the scene. Then, she pried Bionca off of her older brother. "I'm okay," she sobbed. She pulled her friend into a tight hug. "I'm okay. Please, go to your room. I'll take care of this."

"He hurt you." Bionca growled, trying to tear out of Afia's grip to attack him again.

"She deserved it," Rayan stated defiantly. "Out with him? A man like him? Acting like a common harlot? Not my little sister, Afia."

Afia pushed Bionca out of the living room. It took all her strength. Bionca only gave up when she was sure Rayan wouldn't put his hands on Afia in anger again.  He looked like a broken man, staring at Afia with accusatory eyes that glistened. His face was set in a scowl that showed all his disappointment.  Afia felt like she could die. She couldn't believe he had seen her. She knew it was breaking her brother's heart.

"Rayan," she pleaded. She went to him, throwing her arms around him. He stood stiff as a board and wouldn't accept her affection. "My brother, I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Who is he?" he asked her hoarsely.

"His name is Sam. He's my...he was my boyfriend."

"No, Afia," he said sternly. He took her by the shoulders in a firm grip and shook her once, trying to shake some sense into her. "He is a temptation sent to lead you into wickedness, and I will not stand by and let such a thing happen to you. I won't let you end up like me! You're the good seed. You be the good daughter! Now, you tell me. Tell me has he..."

She shook her head fiercely, lying for Sam's sake, for her sake. "No," she forced her lips to say.

Rayan clutched her to his chest with a vocal cry of relief. "Praise," he murmured. "You're a good girl. You're a wise and virtuous girl. I knew you couldn't have forsaken your upbringing, Afia."

"No, Brother." The second lie was easier to tell.

"Promise me you will never see him again. I won't tell Maman. Baba never has to know. It would crush them, you understand? Let them know you are wise and virtuous and hear nothing of your near corruption. Do you promise me?"

His hands cupped her face, and he stared her fiercely in the eyes, compelling her to give him the right answer. Though the tears flew over her cheeks, Afia found the strength to nod. It was the last of her strength. She slumped weakly in Rayan's arms and burst out crying in hard, gut wrenching sobs that brought Bionca back into the living room to pull her away.

"What did you say to her?" Bionca asked in a threatening voice.

"You," he pointed a sharp finger in the blonde woman's face. "If you are truly her friend, you will help her to live an exemplary life instead of being a negative influence. What do you want to see, huh? You want to see her cast to the side after she's been used up by the wrong sort of man?"

"I want to see her make her own decisions!" Afia pushed away from them both and ran to her room, trying to escape what was happening.

She didn't hear Rayan's answer in response. She threw herself in her bed where she remained until her brother was finally out of her home, and when she was sure he was long gone, she called Sam. "I need to see you. Tonight."

They had sex in the bed where she had given him her virginity, a fitting goodbye—though Sam was unaware she was bidding him adieu. By the morning, she slipped out of the house before he awakened and walked the mile up the lane to the main road where she called a taxi to take her home.  It was over. She couldn't have him. It wasn't allowed.