Broken Crescent (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

half-smile.
     
    “More like a happy coincidence. Imagine my surprise when you walked into the building. I thought I’d never see you again…But, it seems that fate would have otherwise, and who are we to question the machinations of the universe, right? What do you say we step out back and catch up on old times?” he asked. His tone was light and not the least bit pushy. He almost sounded like he thought she’d say no.
     
    Afia got the distinct impression she could turn him down, no harm, no foul. Fact was she wanted to go out back and talk with him. She had missed their conversations, his perspective and ways of thinking.  He was close enough in proximity for her to smell his spicy, enticing cologne, and the memories that flooded back were erotic and intense. She struggled not to breathe, but she couldn’t hold her breath forever.
     
    She rose from the chair, undecided, her eyes locked with his translucent blues. His lips were pressed together in a straight line, and her mouth remembered the exact texture and pressure of those lips against hers. The cleft of his chin begged to be caressed. He was still sporting the stubble of a beard she was most familiar with, and his gold rimmed blue shades clung to the neck of his t-shirt, which clung to the chest her hands recalled intimately. His jeans hung from his hips, and beneath the worn, faded denim she knew the rest of him. She blushed at the knowledge.
     
    Afia had never known her body could be just as capable of retaining impressions of past events as her mind. Her body remembered him in vivid detail—from the satiny feel of his short, wavy hair between her fingers to the heft of his nearly six foot frame rising and falling between her legs, their limbs intertwined like sticks starting a fire. Her thighs tightened, as she stood before him and contemplated going outside. Moisture instantly collected, as her gaze drifted down his taut stomach and stopped at his pelvis. She knew she should stay right where she was, in the crowd where she was safe from herself.
     
    “I’ll come with you,” she murmured, and he couldn’t hear, but he seemed to understand, following the movement of her lips with eyes that looked as if they yearned for her. From the very first time they’d met, he had had that look in his eyes. It made her skin burn and her heart beat faster. Sam turned away, releasing her from the potent spell of eye contact, and when he headed to the double doors that led to the back porch of the biker bar, she followed.
     
    There weren’t many others outside. Those seeking a quieter place to chat, or those wanting to smoke cigarettes—the loners and the lovers were there. The night was hot and humid, and citronella candles burned quaintly on the picnic tables that lined the rustic back porch. The view from the back of The Wisecrack looked out on a distant, shadowy mesa. It was a hot and humid night, but pleasant with the breeze. Fireflies could be spotted, as the back of the bar was less illuminated than the front.
     
    Afia and Sam took a seat at one of the picnic tables furthest from the door. It was at the edge of the porch where they could look out at the night, see the stars, and converse without anyone overhearing. There was a definite illusion of being alone. Afia knew she should feel uncomfortable with the situation, but she strangely wasn’t.
     
    She felt butterflies, sweaty palms, and electric desire. His body was too close to hers to ignore. Their thighs almost touched, and he was looking at her so intensely that she felt like not a day had elapsed since the last time they had seen each other. She remembered waking up beside him that final morning nearly a month ago and slipping out to the cab to leave, thinking she could stay away from him. She had been wrong. There was no staying away when given the chance to see him.
     
    “I missed you,” he whispered. He couldn’t resist. Sam turned to her and grasped her chin, smoothed his thumb against her