Chapter 5
DRIFT
Two hours passed before the café door opened again.
Alanna stepped out first, sunlight catching in her hair, followed by Ethan—still talking and standing too close. I didn’t like the way his hand brushed her arm. Then he leaned down to say something in her ear, and she flinched. It was just the slightest movement, but that was enough.
I pushed off the bike and started walking.
She saw me before he did, her eyes widening at my expression and body language. She moved fast, intercepting me before I reached him, and pressed a small hand to my chest. “Can we go?”
The heat of her palm bled through the cotton. For a second, neither of us breathed. Then she stepped back, and the spell broke.
My attention shifted to him. One look—cold and unblinking—and he got the message. Whatever noise he’d been making died in his throat. He muttered something about being late and took off for his car.
I watched until his taillights disappeared, then looked back at her. “Helmet.”
She nodded quickly, grateful and flustered, slipping it on without a word.
The ride back to her apartment was quiet except for the wind and hum of the engine beneath us. Her arms were tight around me, her cheek pressing lightly against my shoulder. Every curve in the road pulled her closer, each exhale syncing with mine until I wasn’t sure whose pulse hammered harder.
By the time we rolled into her complex, the afternoon heat had turned the morning breeze into a thick humidity that the wind struggled to move.
Alanna didn’t let go right away when I stopped.
I could feel her breathing against my back, shallow and uneven.
When she finally slid off, she handed me the helmet like she was waking from a dream.
I dismounted and walked her to the door. Inside the hallway, the light was soft, filtered through cheap blinds. Nothing like the warmth and homey feel of her apartment.
She turned the key in the lock, then looked up at me. Her hair was a little messy from the helmet, her lips pink from where she’d been worrying them. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“Wasn’t an option.”
A giggle popped out, and her eyes twinkled.
“Which is funny because…?”
She shrugged and tried to hide her smile. “Never saw you as the knight-in-shining-armor type.”
I frowned. “I’m the furthest thing from that.
Don’t get it twisted up in your pretty little head, Alanna.
” If she thought I owned even a single link of chainmail, she was deluding herself about who I really was.
“Never forget what I’m capable of. I’m no one’s knight. And no one’s happily ever after.”
The sparkle in her eyes dimmed, and I immediately wanted to take it all back.
I wanted to be whoever and whatever she needed.
But reality was a bitch. There was a reason Jax didn’t want his sweet, innocent little sister with a man like me.
And I couldn’t blame him. But it didn’t stop me from wanting her.
“I’m around if you need me,” I muttered, so she didn’t think my little speech meant she was on her own. I would always protect her. Even from myself.
Something flickered in her expression—relief, maybe. Or something deeper. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more, then stopped. The silence stretched between us.
Finally, she took a step closer, and her fingers brushed my forearm. Tentative, as though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed. That was all it took to knock something loose in me, rattling my sense of reality so I forgot all the reasons I shouldn’t have her.
The air between us changed—warmer, heavier. Every part of me went still. Her eyes lifted, wide and searching, and I felt that slow, familiar burn start low in my gut. The one I’d been pretending didn’t exist since the day I saw her at the wedding.
I stepped in before I could stop myself.
My palm hit the door beside her head, the wood thudding beneath it. My other hand found her jaw—warm and smooth under my calluses.
I dragged my thumb over her velvety bottom lip, and the air between us thickened.
She tilted her chin up, eyes wide, and her breath caught. The sound—half gasp, half question—killed what was left of my control.
Warnings blared in my head like neon signs.
Don’t do it.
She’s Jax’s sister, asshole.
Yeah, it didn’t fucking matter.
My voice was a growl against her mouth. “Can’t fucking fight it anymore.”
Then I kissed her. Hard. No hesitation. And all the reasons this was incredibly stupid deserted me.
I felt her stiffen with shock, then she surrendered. She grabbed my shirt with a small gasp and pulled me closer. Then she arched against me, her soft body pressing against me, and she trembled. Not from fear. From want.
Heat spiked low in my gut, the burn sharp and insistent. Her lips opened under mine, and I took more. Everything. The taste of her was sweet and clean, something I didn’t even know I’d been starving for.
I groaned into her mouth, the sound rough and low, my hands sliding from the door to her hips, hauling her even closer until there was no space left between us. Her breath mixed with mine, fast and shallow, making my pulse pound like a hammer.
Everything I’d been holding inside—the desire, the distance, and the addiction—ignited with one hit of her.
It was too late to stop.
But I was too far gone to care.
When I pulled back just a little, needing to breathe, Alanna tried to inhale, but she ended up panting and sucking in great gulps of air. I was in a similar state.
We were standing in the wreckage of that kiss, staring like we didn’t recognize each other anymore. Maybe we didn’t.
This was different from when she walked down that aisle, and I opened my eyes, finally seeing that she’d grown up. But the woman in front of me…she was like a fantasy. And I was fucking screwed. Because now, I couldn’t tell myself that was all it was.
Not when I knew she was real and that she put every fantasy I’d ever had of her to shame. And the only thing going through my mind was…more.
Her hand found the door handle behind her, fingers fumbling. So I reached past her, twisted it open, and pushed us both through. The click of the latch sounded final. As if it was shutting the door on the man I was just a few minutes ago. One who hadn’t betrayed his brother for a taste of paradise.
Inside, it was dark except for a low lamp glowing near the couch. I walked her back until she bumped into the wall. My hand found her hip, my body crowding hers until her breath stuttered again.
Bending lower, I flicked my tongue in the hollow of her throat. She gasped, her head tipping back, giving me more. I fucking took it. My teeth scraped over her delicate skin before I bit just hard enough to hear a whimper falling from her lips as if she couldn’t hold it in.
“Fuck,” I murmured against her skin, my voice low and gritty. “You make more sounds like that, and I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”
My mouth found her again, slower this time. Deeper, rougher, and hungrier. She answered me with another soft sound in her throat that nearly undid me.
The back of her head hit the wall, but her fingers dove into my hair. Dragging, tugging, begging. I grabbed the hem of her shirt and shoved it up, rougher than I should’ve. Her skin was warm and smooth, her stomach quivering at the light touch of my palm.
Her tongue flicked against mine—hesitant, as though she was learning me—and I lost what little patience I had left. I grabbed her hips, lifted her until her toes barely touched the floor, and pinned her in place against the wall.
Her breath broke against my mouth, and my name whispered from her lips. No…not my name.
“Chance,” I grunted.
“Huh?” Her gray eyes were cloudy with passion, the color reminding me of the sky when a thunderstorm rolled in.
“You call me Chance, baby.”
“But Jaxton told me to—um—he said no one calls you that.”
“You do.” My voice was firm. Final.
I paused, the moment suspended as I waited for her to make the choice.
I told myself I wasn’t quite sure what the repercussions of it were, but that was a fucking lie.
The truth was that I didn’t know how to face the reality that came with it.
Yet I wanted—no, needed—to hear her call me by my first name.
Finally, she whispered, “Chance.”
It was barely a sound, but it struck me harder than a gunshot.
I pulled back an inch and rested my forehead against hers. My voice came out rough through the gravel in my chest. “You got no fucking idea what you do to me, Alanna.”
Then I kissed her again before she could answer, before I could remember why I shouldn’t.
Her shirt was already up to her ribs. I hooked my fingers under the fabric and dragged it higher.
Her breath caught, soft and shaky, but she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she raised her arms without a word, and the shirt landed somewhere behind me.
Her bra was plain white cotton that she somehow made sexy as hell.
I hated it for being in my way, so I slid my thumb under the strap.
Then I yanked, hard enough for the band to snap down so one of her breasts spilled into my hand.
Light from the lamp glanced off her skin—pale, flushed, and so damn perfect. My chest tightened.
I knew I should stop. But I didn’t. Couldn’t.
My mouth found her throat, my teeth scraping over soft skin, following the beat of her pulse until she was shaking.
I pulled the other strap of her bra down, freeing both tits to the cool air.
She sucked in a breath when my hand closed over her.
My palm was rough over her soft skin as I slowly squeezed.
My cock was harder than it had ever been, straining against my jeans, the zipper digging into the skin since I hadn’t bothered with underwear.
“Beautiful,” I muttered, not sure if I said the word out loud or just thought it. Her skin was warm under my palm, her nipple hardening against my thumb as I rolled it. She arched into me, her back bowing off the wall, and I took that as a dare.