Page 31 of Her Outlaw Biker

I bury my face in his chest, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you married me.”

He curls an arm under my thighs and lifts me before I can protest, like I weigh nothing at all. My breath hitches, hands flying to his shoulders.

“Jack!” I squeal. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Sweetheart, you weigh less than that old Harley and I dragged it up the hill last night.” He nuzzles into my neck, and just like that, I melt. “Besides, I want my kid to know I could carry both of you from the cabin to the damn mountain top if I had to.”

The words wrap around my heart like a warm blanket, and I bury my fingers in his hair, my eyes stinging a little.

He walks us back to the porch, kicking the screen door open with his foot, and doesn’t stop until he’s laid me out gently on the big, worn leather couch we picked out together in a secondhand shop in Missoula. He stretches out beside me, hand resting over our baby, eyes locked with mine.

“You ever think about how far we’ve come?” I whisper.

He nods slowly. “Every day.”

“And do you ever miss it? Your life before?”

He shakes his head. “Not even a little. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

His mouth brushes mine, slow and sweet and deep, and even though we’re two years and a thousand memories into this love, it still sets my soul on fire.

“Tell me again,” he breathes against my lips. “Why you stayed.” His voice is rough and full of reverence. Gratitude.

“Because you were worth staying for,” I say simply. “And now? Now you’re my forever.”

His hand slips beneath the hem of my dress, fingers dancing slow and reverent over my thigh, then higher. I gasp, already trembling under his touch.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to mine. “But don’t think for a second I don’t plan to make you feel every inch of how much I love you.”

His hands trail down my sides, and when he sinks to his knees in front of me, there’s nothing playful in his expression anymore. Just hunger. Reverence.

“I’ve been patient all week,” he growls, voice low and husky as he palms the sides of my thighs. “Watching you walk around in those tiny shorts…wearing my shirt with not a damn thing underneath.”

I tremble as he eases the dress up, baring my legs to the breeze. “I was hot…”

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his hands slowly up the backs of my thighs, “you have no idea.”

His leans forward to kiss my belly first, then lower, his tongue gently grazing my clit. He starts to worship me like a manstarved. With every breath, every brush of his lips, he reminds me that no matter how many years pass, I’ll always be his obsession. I writhe beneath him, gasping his name as he kisses between my thighs, slow and thorough, my body aching with sweet pleasure.

When he finally rises above me, shoving his jeans down his hips, I reach for him, needing him so much it aches.

“Now,” I whisper, trembling. “Please…”

He enters me with a groan, burying himself deep and stilling. His forehead presses to mine, both of us breathless, our bodies molding together perfectly.

“You feel like heaven,” he murmurs, his voice shaking with restraint. “Like home.”

And then he moves.

Slow at first, deep and unhurried, like he’s memorizing the way I feel all over again. His hand cups the back of my neck, his mouth devouring mine between moans and praise. I cry out his name, over and over, until my voice is hoarse and the world blurs behind tears of pleasure.

We fall apart together, lost in the throes of pleasure. But even when the shudders fade and the high settles into a soft glow, he doesn’t let me go. He kisses my cheek. My jaw. My lips. Then lifts me again, holding me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever held. He heads straight for the bedroom, and lays me down on the bed like I’m breakable, brushing a hand over my swollen belly.

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he mutters, voice darker now, laced with that edge that always makes me melt. “Gonna love you till the sun goes down. And then again till it rises.”

I reach for him, needy all over again. “Then stop talking and love me.”

His mouth crashes down on mine, all fire and hunger, and this time there’s no restraint. Just raw devotion and possessive need.

He takes me again, on the bed we made together, in the home we fought for. His name is a chant on my lips, and when I fall apart, I take him with me, clinging to him like he’s the center of my universe.

And even when we’re tangled in sweat and sighs, I know one thing for sure.

I’d choose him again. Every. Single. Time.

~The End