Page 26 of Egg Me On (Front Range Motorcycle Collective #1)

He swung his leg over my thighs in one fluid motion, straddling me with a grace that still caught me off guard.

His weight settled against me, warm and solid, hands coming to rest on my shoulders.

"So," he said, voice dropping to that particular pitch that sent heat pooling in my groin, "I think we need to invent some special non-verbal cues for when you’re struggling with your words.

" His fingers traced idle patterns along my collarbone, each touch igniting nerve endings I hadn't known existed before him.

"Maybe we could review some options? For example," he tilted his head, eyes sparkling with challenge, “What will you do when you want to express that you’re feeling content?”

Smiling, I leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“And what about if you want to spend some time with me?”

I hauled him closer, wrapping my arms lightly around my waist.

“So cuddling me means you want me there, and pushing me away means you need some space?”

I shook my head. “I won’t need that.”

"Everyone needs alone time sometimes,” He said. “What if you rub my shoulder and then step away? That says that you care about me, but you need a minute.”

I nodded, still not sure I’d ever use a gesture like that. I wanted to be close to him almost always, and Aiden was already so aware of my non-verbal cues that he naturally gave me space when I needed it, the same way he naturally moved with me when we rode my bike together.

He chewed on his bottom lip, studying me. “And what about the tough one… the one that says 'I love you'?"

My chest tightened at the casual way he referenced those three words.

Words I'd typed easily enough a week ago, for strangers on the internet but still struggled to voice directly to him.

Instead of answering, I leaned forward, brushing my lips against the sensitive spot just below his ear, then gently caught the lobe between my teeth.

Aiden's breath hitched, his body instinctively arching into mine.

"Oh," he breathed, fingers tightening on my shoulders.

"That works. Definitely works. It’s specific enough of a gesture that I know you mean something different than just simple affection.

Plus, it makes me all warm and tingly, so I like that, too. "

I grinned against his skin, emboldened by his response.

My hands slid higher under his shirt, mapping the topography of his back—each knob of his spine, the subtle shift of muscle beneath smooth skin.

I traced my lips down the line of his chin, nibbling and licking the skin until I found the spot that made him giggle.

"That one too?" he asked, voice slightly unsteady. “Or maybe that means you love me very much.”

“No.” That one was me getting distracted by how pretty he was. I thought for a moment about what I’d do if I wanted to show him big love.

Then I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him flush against my chest in an embrace that left no space between us. His heartbeat thundered against mine, our rhythms syncing as they always seemed to do when we were this close. When I finally released him, his eyes were softer, more serious.

"That's my favorite," he admitted quietly. "When you hold me like you're afraid I might disappear. And now that I know everything, it hits different. Better.” He snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Good choice. I love you very much, too.”

Something in my chest unraveled at his words, at the easy way he accepted my silence and translated my touch.

I cradled his face between my palms, marveling at how perfectly he fit against me, and kissed him properly—deep and thorough, pouring everything I couldn't say into the slide of my tongue against his.

When we broke apart, he was breathless, beaming at me. “See? Nonverbal cues. You were probably giving them to me all along, weren’t you?” He threaded his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Maybe.”

“I’m sorry it took me a while to catch on. To realize that you love me just as much as I love you. You just have a different way of showing it.”

He kissed my cheek, studying my face for a moment, and I wondered if he could tell I was on the verge of tears, that emotions were threatening to overwhelm me.

Maybe he did understand, because he sighed happily and settled more comfortably in my lap and shifted to a safer topic, talking about a weekend ride he'd been planning.

"There's this route through the mountains I found on a motorcycle forum," he explained, hands animated as he described sweeping curves and scenic overlooks.

"The weather's supposed to be perfect this weekend.

It might be the last good riding days before it gets too cold.

We could pack a lunch, make a day of it, or stay overnight at this little B&B I found online.

I just want to drink it up, that time when we can road trip on the bike, before it gets all cold and snowy. "

I listened, content to watch the play of expressions across his face, the way his entire body participated in the telling.

With each word, each excited gesture, I felt something inside me loosen further.

The knot of tension I'd carried for years was slowly unraveling in the face of his unflinching acceptance.

He didn't need me to respond with elaborate plans or enthusiastic agreement.

My attentive silence, the occasional nod or squeeze of his hand, was enough for him.

"Oh," he said suddenly, changing gears with that mercurial energy I'd come to adore, "we should probably establish some basic signals too. Like for yes or no. What should those be?"

I rolled my eyes, the corner of my mouth quirking up. "I can say yes," I pointed out, enjoying the way his eyebrows shot up at the dry delivery.

"Well, sure, when it's easy stuff," he conceded, shifting his weight in a way that sent sparks of pleasure through my groin. "But what about for the hard questions?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

His expression shifted, playfulness giving way to something more vulnerable as his eyes locked with mine. "Like, for example, there’s a question I’ve been thinking about for a few days now. We’ll use it as a test.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Cash?”

The question knocked the air from my lungs, even though we'd been living in each other's pockets in the week since I’d made my grand declaration, even though I'd all but declared my love in front of several hundred thousand people on social media.

Boyfriend felt simultaneously too juvenile and too significant, inadequate to encompass what he meant to me yet loaded with expectations and obligations.

My throat constricted, the familiar paralysis creeping in as I searched for words that wouldn't come.

Aiden watched the struggle play out on my face, his own expression softening with understanding. Then, unexpectedly, he poked me in the ribs, breaking the tension with a laugh.

"See? This is why we need non-verbal cues," he teased, but without malice. "Just in case there’s a more challenging question.”

Something fierce and possessive surged through me at his teasing acceptance. In one fluid motion, I stood, lifting him with me, then hauled him up and over my shoulder, my hand resting on the firm globe of his ass.

"Is that a yes?" he called, kicking his feet I carried him down the hallway. "This is a weird way to say yes! Like, I’m not sure it will apply in all situations."

I kicked the bedroom door shut behind us, then tossed him onto the mattress with enough force to make him bounce. His eyes widened, pupils blown with desire as I yanked my shirt over my head, revealing the tattoos he loved to trace with his tongue.

“Can you really strip every time I ask you a yes or no question?” he asked, tilting his head. “I mean, on one hand, okay. I’m here for it. On the other… it may get us arrested.”

Laughing, I stayed deliberately silent as I tugged his t-shirt over his head, then worked his jeans down his legs, dragging his boxers along with them. His cock sprang free, already hard and leaking, a sight that never failed to make my mouth water.

I shed my own jeans with brutal efficiency, then crawled up his body, pinning him to the mattress with my greater weight. His legs fell open, inviting me into the cradle of his hips, his erection rubbing deliciously against mine.

"God, yes," he moaned, arching up into me. "But you can't—" his words dissolved into a whimper as I rolled my hips deliberately against his, "—can't possibly use sex as a non-verbal communication technique. Can you?"

I reached for the lube in his bedside drawer, slicking my fingers with practiced efficiency.

When I pressed the first finger into his tight heat, his protest died on a gasp, body arching off the bed.

I worked him open with single-minded focus, adding a second finger, then a third, watching his face contort with pleasure as I brushed against that spot inside him that made his cock jerk and leak.

When I finally pushed into him—one long, slow thrust that had him clawing at my back—I leaned down, lips brushing his ear. “It’s a yes.”

“Yay… oh shit…Cash! We’re… baby. Fuck… we’re boyfriends!

Stop… Cash! Stop thrusting when I’m trying…

oh god. I’m trying to talk.” His words poured out in a wild jumble as I slammed into him again and again, not able to stop, especially not when his head fell back, his eyes going hazy as his body trembled beneath mine.

He wrapped his legs around my waist, pulling me impossibly deeper, taking everything I had to give and demanding more.

I set a rhythm that had us both gasping, knowing I'd found the perfect way to tell him what words couldn't express—with every thrust, every kiss, every shared breath: You're mine.

I'm yours. Always. What better way to make sure he knew that than bringing him to orgasm around my cock?

He whimpered, slamming his hips up into mine as I stroked his cock, making sure he came as hard as he always did, panting my name as his inner muscles milked me dry.

Afterward, as we lay together, panting, in each other’s arms, I leaned in and nipped at his ear, sucking on his earlobe for a moment to make sure he knew what I was saying.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, his cheeks pink. “I love you so much, Cassius Upton.”

I lifted my head and stared down at him for a long moment. "This always meant that I need you. Sex always meant that," I whispered, the confession tearing from somewhere deep inside me. "Since the beginning."

His eyes flew open, locking with mine as understanding dawned, and I could practically see his brain turning as he rewrote our history with this new knowledge, a smile spreading across his face as he held me there, inside him, and I nipped his ear again.

I love you.