Marked by the Protective Biker, page 1
MARKED BY THE PROTECTIVE BIKER
HOPE FORD
Marked by the Protective Biker © 2025 by Hope Ford
Editor: Kasi Alexander
Proofreader: Nicole Graf
Cover Design: Lori Jackson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
1. Felon
2. Emily
3. Felon
4. Emily
5. Felon
6. Emily
7. Felon
8. Emily
9. Felon
10. Emily
11. Felon
12. Emily
13. Felon
Epilogue
Also by Hope Ford
JOIN ME!
Be a Hottie!
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
FELON
I’m tense, sitting in my metal chair, with my gaze locked on Miss Riles. Her name is Emily, but we’re not supposed to call her that. She’s the only one in this place that offers any kind of light in all the darkness. She looks for the best in all of us, even the ones that don’t deserve it.
I’ve been here in Jasper Prison for a little over a year, and it was six months ago that Emily started working as a counselor to the inmates. I had resisted counseling up to that point, but one look at her, and I knew I wouldn’t skip another meeting. Hell, I attend more group meetings than is required of me, and the one-on-one meetings are the moments I cling to.
Emily fidgets in her seat, and I know it's because she feels something for me. There’s no hiding it even though she’s tried. But every meeting, I plant my ass in the seat closest to her and soak in her every move, every glance, and every hitched breath she has.
I arrived early to the conference where group therapy is held, hoping to talk to her for just a second, and she’s spent her time, head buried into case files, acting if she’s ignoring me. “Can we talk after?”
Finally, she lifts her big green eyes up to me. I wonder if she realizes that desire is plain to see on her face. She looks at the guard standing by the doorway across the room. He’s not paying us any attention because he’s more focused on his phone than anything. Just watching him pisses me off. He should be protecting Emily even though she doesn’t need protection from me. But that asshole doesn’t know that.
She sucks in a breath and slowly releases it. “I don’t think that is a good idea.”
I slouch down, trying to make myself smaller even though I’ve spent most of my life doing the opposite. I’m a big man compared to her, and the thought of her being afraid of me keeps me up most nights. “Are you scared of me?”
“No. I’m not scared of you at all,” she answers immediately, and I let out a sigh of relief. She’s not lying. I’d know if she was. She may not realize it, but every emotion, every thought, everything shows on her face. She doesn’t have the experience or the know-how to keep things hidden, and that’s why leaving her here scares the shit out of me. These guys in here will prey on her innocence. They will fuckin’ ruin her.
“Then talk to me after the group session.”
She looks at me, surprised. I’ve never pressured her, but today I feel like I have to. “Please, Emily. I get out tomorrow. I just need to talk to you.”
She wants to. I can see it in the way her eyes are sparkling and the way she’s looking at me. Just when I think she’s going to say yes, she shakes her head. “I can’t.”
I fist my hands in my lap to stop from reaching for her. The thought of leaving her here is making me crazy. I want to protect her. Hell, I need to protect her, and I’m not sure how I’m going to do it when I’m outside these walls.
The door swings open, and more inmates walk in. I watch each of them, and every fuckin’ one of them looks at Emily as if she’s a feast meant just for them. The thought sickens me and pisses me off at the same time. The urge to stand up and take down each and every fucker in the room is intense, but as if she senses my growing anger, Emily stands up and moves to the opposite side of the room. She appears to be putting away files, and when she’s done, instead of joining the circle, she sits behind her desk. I’m not sure if she’s putting distance between her and the whole group or just needing to put distance between the two of us, but I’m happy she’s over there, half hidden behind the big desk.
She starts the group session, and we all go around talking about anything we want to talk about since the last meeting. Every one of the guys has their eyes glued to Emily.
She doesn’t even seem to notice the effect she has on all the men here. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’m not the only one to think so. She’s curvy and has a grace about her that makes me salivate just watching her. When she’s in any room, she commands everyone's attention. I’m not sure if that is her beauty or just the fact that whoever she’s talking to, she makes them feel like they are the most important person in the world. I’m in here with some of the worst men there are, but she makes them believe in themselves.
In these sessions, most the guys don’t say much, and I’m normally that way too, but today is different. If this is my only chance to talk to Emily, then I’m going to have to find a way to do it now.
“Jack, do you have anything you want to say?”
Emily is the only one that can get away calling me by that name. To everyone else, I go by my last name, Felon.
I clench my fists together in my lap and look directly at her. “Yeah, I’ve got a few things to say.”
She tenses ever so slightly, and I’m sure she’s worried about what I’m going to say. Does she think I’m going to announce my attraction to her, right here in front of everyone? Hell, she may not know it, but every man in this prison, including the guards, knows she’s mine. This is why she’s been protected and no one will touch her. They won’t go against me or my club, the Exiled Guardians. But I’m still worried about what may happen when I’m out beyond these walls.
She clears her throat. “Go on.”
I nod and stand up. “I get out tomorrow, and even though I’m leaving here, I still have eyes on the inside. If anyone in here thinks they can take what’s mine… put their hands on what is mine, well, then they have another think coming.” I look around the room, making sure that I have everyone’s attention. “Do not cross me. Do not cross my club. Do not touch what’s mine.”
Everyone is nodding their heads because they know I’m not lying. Only a dumbass would cross me, unfortunately there are probably a few of them in this room or in this prison right now. I sit down in my seat, and Emily nods her head before turning to the guy sitting next to me.
CHAPTER 2
EMILY
The guy sitting next to Jack drones on about the injustice of him being in prison. I really should be paying closer attention, but instead I’m focused on Jack.
He asked to talk to me after the session, and I told him no. Not because I’m scared of him but more like I’m scared of how I’ll react to being alone with him. I don’t trust myself not to touch him. Hell, I can totally see myself begging for his touch. I’ve never in my life been attracted to a man like I am to Jack. When I first saw him, it was his big shoulders, chiseled chin, and big blue eyes that drew me to him. I swear when he looks at me, I feel so much heat I’ve had to stop myself from fanning my face.
And that was at one glance.
When I got to know him through counseling, I started to fall for him. I shouldn’t have, and I know better, but it was inevitable. He’s irresistible.
He’s my complete opposite, but he calms me in ways I never saw coming.
Hell, he’s part of a motorcycle club. He’s in prison for killing a man and was sentenced to twenty years and he’s getting out after only serving one. I’m sure there were strings pulled, but they are saying he’s getting out on some technicality.
The sad part about this is, I don’t think he wants out. I think he was content being in here and now that he’s about to get out, there’s a restlessness to him that he can’t seem to get a hold of. Which sort of explains the speech he just gave.
It worries me some because I can see him doing something to be able to stay in here, and that would be the worst thing for him. He needs to take his freedom and run.
As the guys continue talking, I look at Jack. He’s staring straight at me, and I don’t have to wonder if everything he said about claiming what’s his was about me. I’ve known since the first words we exchanged that I was his. We may never act on it, and we may never do more than talk, but I feel as if I’m his. It’s like I belong with him, and the thought should freak me out, but it doesn’t.
I stand up from behind my desk and move across the room. Every eye in the room is on me. Charles is talking about how his ex-wife won’t bring his kid to see him, and I search my brain. When he pauses, I ask him, “Your daughter is thirteen, right?”
He nods, and I give him a look of understanding. “I understand you want to see your daughter, but have you tried reaching out to her? Maybe write her a letter and let her know you love her and are thinking of her.”
One of the other guys jumps in with a mocking laugh. “Charles can’t write.”
A few of the others snicker, and I am about to take back control of the session wh
Charles nods at Jack and thanks him.
And that right there is another reason I’ve fallen for Jack. He’s not like the other guys here. He is hard and strong, and no one here doubts that, but he’s also compassionate and caring. A lot of these men are in prison because they’ve done really bad things. And yeah, Jack killed a guy, but he did it protecting a child that was being assaulted next to a park in Whiskey Run. He broke the law, and he hasn’t shown any remorse for what he’s done because he said if he had to do it again, he would. Who can really blame him for that?
I nod toward Jack. “Thank you for helping him. Now, Mike, what about you? Anything you want to talk about?”
The next few guys grumble through their confessions and complaints, and I take notes of things I can help them with. Before I know it, time is up, and I start to panic. Jack is about to walk out of here, and who knows if I’ll ever see him again. Do I want this to be my last encounter with him? Am I going to be able to just let him walk out the door without another word?
The thought makes me sick to my stomach, and as all the guys start to file out of the room, I step in front of Jack, putting distance between him and the guard. “Hey, Bradley, I’m going to go ahead and do Jack’s exit interview now, okay? I’ll just need around thirty minutes.”
Bradley is an older guard, and he’s taken it upon himself to look out for me. His wife sends in cakes and cookies to give to me at least once a week. Bradley leans his head back and looks up at Jack. “You going to give her any problems?”
Jack shakes his head. “No, sir.”
Bradley measures him with a look and nods his head. “Fine. I’ll be right here, Em—I mean Ms. Riles. You just say my name and I’ll be here.”
I nod, unable to hide my relief. It’s not much, but I have thirty more minutes with Jack, and it’s going to have to be enough. I’m going to have to commit everything he says and does to memory because I don’t want to forget anything about any of it, but mostly I don’t want to forget how he makes me feel.
Bradley steps outside of the room, and I grip the door and close it halfway. Without looking at Jack, I walk back toward my desk. The long skirt I have on feels tighter, and I know Jack is watching my ass move side to side as I go. I resist shaking my hips even though I want to. Even though this is inappropriate, I can at least put up a modicum of professionalism.
As I settle at my desk, Jack walks toward me. His gaze is penetrating, and I slide my thighs together, wanting the friction there.
“Have a seat,” I tell him breathlessly.
I point at the chair across the desk, but he grabs it and picks it up like it weighs nothing. I hold my breath as he carries it around the desk, sets it beside mine, and then settles his heavy frame into it.
It feels like something is lodged in my throat, but I mumble, “What are you doing?”
He turns toward me. He’s caged me in with his arms and thighs. His right arm is on the desk in front of us, his left arm is on the back of my chair. His left leg is behind me, and his right leg is pressed against my knees. I hold my breath because even though we’ve sat close before, this is closer; this is different.
He leans his head toward mine, and just for a second I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. His breath is hot on my cheek. He's that close. “I leave here tomorrow, Em. I have thirty minutes to breathe you in, and the only way to do that is to sit close to you.” His hand comes down on my thigh, and I jump. Not because I’m scared but because I wasn’t expecting his touch. “Please, let me have these thirty minutes touching you.”
My voice is shaky and filled with need. “We shouldn’t do this.”
CHAPTER 3
FELON
She’s right. We shouldn’t be doing this, and I shouldn’t be touching her. Maybe it’s the thought that I’m about to walk out of here and leave her unprotected. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve yearned for her since I first saw her, or maybe I just can’t hold back anymore, but I don’t move back, and I don’t remove my hand. “We shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t touch you. Do you want me to stop?”
She shakes her head side to side, and I grip her tighter.
She sucks in a breath, and I tell her the one thing I’ve never said to her before. “I want you to quit. I can’t leave you here, Em.”
Her eyes widen, and she sputters, “I can’t just quit. This is my job… my calling.”
I try to calm myself, but just thinking of her here without me makes me crazy. “Why? What made you want to do this job?”
She shrugs and says in a hushed voice, “My brother was in prison, and he died here. He didn’t have anyone that believed in him or tried to help him.” She jabs her finger into her chest. “I couldn’t be here for him, but I can be here for someone like him.”
I shake my head. “Honey, it’s not safe.”
She juts her chin at me, and I can already tell she’s not going to listen to a word I say. “I can take care of myself. I’m not stupid, I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to get a job here. I thought about it and prepared for it.”
I have no doubts she thinks she can defend herself, but if she’s up against someone that is twice her size—which is the case most times in here—then she doesn’t stand a chance. My voice deepens. “I don’t know how I’m going to walk away knowing you’re here. I won’t be able to protect you anymore.”
She gives me a doubtful look. “We both know that even when you’re gone, you’ll still have control in here. I may not know a lot about your club, but I do know that people respect it… respect you.”
I slide my hand up to the apex of her thighs. She looks at the door and then back at me. I lean over and whisper, “I want to touch you.”
She pauses, and I don’t relent. “Don’t try and lie to me, honey. You want me to touch you, too.”
Her breath hitches shakily, and I pat her between the thighs. “Pull your skirt up.”
She sucks in a breath and looks at me and then at the half-closed door again. She wants to do as I ask, but the rule follower in her resists me. I pull my hand away and pat the folder on her desk. “Read to me.”
She looks at the papers, and I pat them again. “Read to me, honey.”
She opens the folder that has my name on it and starts to read. Her voice is soft in the room, and I tug at the material of her skirt. “Pull this up for me.”
With her eyes wide, she hikes her skirt up and sits back down. She turns to look at me. “We shouldn’t. I mean, I shouldn’t be doing this.”
I lean in, wanting to kiss her so badly, but I don’t. Instead I put my hand over her panty-clad pussy. The gusset is wet, and I stroke my finger back and forth along her warmth. “You’re not doing anything, Em. You’re just sitting here, reading to me from my file.”
She hisses, and her legs widen.
I slide my fingers under the silky material, and as soon as we’re skin on skin, she tenses, gripping the desk in front of us. There’s a movement at the door, and when I see Bradley’s back, head tilted, looking at his phone, I put my focus back on Emily.
She’s stopped reading, and I chuckle. “You need to read… or say something, Em. If it’s quiet…” I let my voice trail off because I don’t want to say the words. If she’s quiet and someone comes in here, I’m going to have to stop, and I’m not sure I can.
She’s soaking wet, and I know it’s because of me. I grunt at her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re soaked, baby. Is this all for me?”
Her head falls back, and she whimpers. Fuck, her arousal even sounds good.
As I pump my finger in and out of her, the sounds of her whimpers and her wet pussy fills the room. “Talk, Em. You need to talk.”
She starts talking again, and it’s like she’s talking from memory. She’s relaying what’s going to happen when I leave tomorrow and everything I’m going to have to do to adjust to normal life. As she goes on, I press my finger to her clit, circling it, applying more pressure until her hips start to jerk and she’s gyrating against my hand.
