REIGN: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel by Meg Jackson

slightly.

 
    “I don’t think you thought that through,” he said, as though speaking
to a foolish child. Which is exactly how I felt as I stood there blushing.

 
    “I don’t…I’m sorry…” I stuttered through my hands, just about ready to
crawl under a rock from mortification.

 
    “Don’t apologize,” Reign said, the grin fading from his face as he
looked at me, eyes slowly growing darker. “Unless you mean to take it back.”

 
    He stepped closer to me, his hand coming up once more to my bicep,
this time stroking the flesh there softly, making my chest constrict, all the
air seeming to leave my body, my hair standing on end. I’m pretty sure I made a
sound, unintentionally, a soft mewling sound.

 
    I didn’t mean to take it back. I meant to take it further.

 
    In a blind rush, I grabbed for him, acting on instinct alone, my palm
against the back of his neck, under the wisps of curling hair that fell around
his shoulders, pulling him in towards me until his lips landed on mine. He
tasted like sweet honey and whiskey and smoke and everything free.

 
    Something inside of me broke in two.

 
    His hands came to my hips, pulling me into him, and I parted my legs
automatically, without thinking. I wanted to wrap them around him right then,
rub my pussy against him. I hadn’t felt myself so alive, so aroused, in years.
As his tongue danced in my mouth, I felt his thigh press gently between my
knees, inviting me to move closer to him.

 
    I did, my own tongue now tentatively darting into his mouth, tasting
him. With my eyes closed I felt him press his leg upward, between my thighs,
and moaned into his mouth, my body trembling as it flooded with desire for the
first time in so long. My clit jumped as the tough denim of Reign’s jeans
pressed against the thin fabric of my leggings, then strained forward, wanting
more.

 
    With a sudden grunt, Reign pulled back, his hands remaining on my
hips, his eyes looking down into mine, all fire and need.

 
    “Are you sure?” he said, his voice low and rough, almost like a caress
in my mind. It drew another burst of shivers from my body. I nodded, unable to
speak, only wanting to taste him on my lips once more. But I didn’t have the
chance; at least not then. He grabbed my wrist, pushing me away while
simultaneously pulling me along the side of the bar towards the motel rooms
lined up side-by-side.

 
    “Seven,” I said, breathless, mind turned into a lightning storm,
clouded and tempestuous. I could barely remember my own name, but I could
remember my room number perfectly well. Reign looked back at me as he pulled me
forward, my feet stumbling over themselves in my agitated state.

 
    As though suddenly remembering the bruise above my eye, and what that
could mean, he slowed down, letting me catch up to him, and we walked abreast
to the room, his arm coming around my waist and sending little tendrils of
excitement through me.

 
    I dropped the keys trying to open the door, then took too long trying
to get the key to fit the lock. Meanwhile, Reign was being categorically
unhelpful by tracing his tongue along my neck, planting feathery light kisses
across my skin. A part of me wanted to cry. What
have I been doing all my life, why have I waited so long to feel so good, why
couldn’t Jeremy make me feel like this?

 
    Finally, I managed to get the door open and we stumbled in. I
automatically turned off the light that I’d left on, but Reign turned it back.

 
    “I want to see your beautiful body,” he said. I was standing in front
of the bed, at a loss now that we were here. I hadn’t really let myself plan
that far ahead. What did I do now? I hadn’t ever been with anyone with Jeremy.
I knew what he liked, knew his desires better than I even knew my own, but not
this stranger. Not this mysterious, sexy, intoxicating stranger. I didn’t know
where to begin, and I felt panic rising in my chest as I worried about
disappointing