Page 108 of Dirty Salvation

He'd got the woman he deserved.

The one to be at his back, in his confidence, the one to laugh with and fuck into new year until he died of orgasm overload.

He wanted to be the manshedeserved.

"Hey, baby." his nose knocked against hers.

In comfort, reflex now, Rider's large palm skated down Zara's back. Her sudden shudder went with the feel of her softening and she gave an involuntary mewling sound low in her throat.

“I told Tiny I would help with dinner. Can you believe he doesn’t know how to make meatloaf? It’s un-American. I googled a recipe because don’t tell him but I haven’t made one either, but it can’t be that difficult.”

As much as Rider had not given that one lick of a thought ever before he couldn’t care less if Tiny knew his left from his right, his hands snaked down Zara’s back, keeping her flush to his body, those same hands came to rest on the dip of her spine where she had those two adorable as hell dimples above her ass. “Couldn’t give a fuck, Zara,“ he told her smiling. “And he’ll have to manage his meat on his own.” aware of the double entendre he grinned pressing his mouth to her ear. “You’re gonna be busy.”

“Busy with what? I told you I got all up to date with that disaster of a cabin office and if you dare leave invoices that far behind again I will scream, you were sitting on hundreds of dollars and not even known about it. I mean, Really, Rider, that’s bad management. “

Sweet as fuck. Rider grinned down at her.

And while some of his men and prospects milled about the club, Jed at the bar, as usual, Grinder taking on one of the hangaround's at pool, most everyone bunkering down from the howling snow outside, he cupped the back of Zara’s head bringing her in closer to his body, his thumb tipped up her chin, she had that shy look in her eyes, he loved that.

“You gotta know, Icy. I like takin’ care of you. Like that you take care of my shit over at the office, Texas told me he watched you sweet talk big Brian over at the haulage yard into paying his bill early, never saw Tex gush before, I think you got a fan, baby, he wants me to double your pay just to keep you. He doesn’t know I’m already keepin’ you.” she sucked in her breath.

Rider liked that as well, her feelings were right on the surface for him to see making her eyes sparkle. “Having said all that shit, you’re gonna be busy today, ‘cause even though I had you just this morning, all honey and soft wakin’ for me, my cock wants those sweet lips right now. Come with me, Icy.” Latching onto her hand he set off walking, taking her with him. His room felt like it was ten miles away, and if he knew he wouldn’t get interrupted by one or more of his knucklehead boys he’d push her into the nearest room with a door.

“Yo, Prez!”

Jesus fucking Christ above.

Rider came to a stop; his ass hadn't even left the common room yet and the toddlers were screeching for him. He turned his snarl on Preacher.

Thin fucking ice, brother.

“What?” His growl was hateful. Cockblocked at every goddamn turn by these shitheads. At his side, Zara was giggling curled around his hand, her body leaning into his side, he liked her there.

Preacher grinned and jutted his head out of the window. “We got some company of the kin kind. You might wanna put down your girl for a second.”

Again, Rider cursed. Were his family here?The fuck. He spoke to his mother just yesterday and he wasn’t due to see them until the thanksgiving weekend.

“Who is it?” Asked Zara.

Dropping an idle kiss to her forehead, Rider’s brow bunched.

“About to find out. Wait here, baby.” If it was his father Rider would lose his fucking shit, he had no time for him today, or ever. He saw who it was a minute later when he’d strode over to the main entrance, a half-pint size lump in a white fur lined Parka coat, the hood obscuring her face poured herself through the door, dumping her bag at her feet before launching into Rider’s opened arms, he pulled his baby sister into a tight hug.

******

When Rider lifted the woman off her feet hugging her with a giant grin on his gorgeous face, Zara stood back and observed. Only a tiny little bit jealous poking at her belly. The pair had a closeness, that much she could tell, but it didn’t feel sexual. Like the kiss he’d just pressed to Zara’s forehead, he did the same to the woman as she pushed the hood of her coat back to let a long mass of black hair fall free.

He cared for the woman, she noted.

Zara used these minutes to get her heart back under control, sex was out of the question now, though her body hadn’t got the memo yet and was still in full throttle mode.

The sight of him, in his tight fitted too worn denim and his leather cut over his navy Henley shirt, his hair swept up in a messy bun, and his eyes so intense, turned the blood in her veins to boiled syrup.

Zara visibly sucked in a breath. He made her legs feel like soft noodles.

Especially when he whispered dirty things like he had.

Rider had no filter whatsoever and she loved it.