Page 41 of Sexting the Bikers (Ruthless Riders #2)

KATYA

I ’m wrapped up in the three of them, sweat cooling on my skin, the sheets tangled around us. We’re still moving together, bodies close, breath mixing, no walls left between us. My head is spinning, but it’s not just from the sex.

Reaper is behind me, one arm banded across my waist, his hand firm on my hip as he rocks into me.

He’s always so controlled, but I can feel him shaking, holding back.

His mouth finds my shoulder and I feel his voice more than I hear it.

“You know I love you, Katya. I’ve tried not to, but it’s useless. You’re it for me. You’re everything.”

Dog is in front of me, grinning like he can’t help it, one hand stroking my cheek, his thumb brushing my lips before he leans in to kiss me hard. “I didn’t think I’d get caught up in all this, but I’m gone for you, Katya. You make me crazy. I love you. You’re mine now.”

Bishop’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight, his eyes serious and steady. He bends and kisses me, slow and deep, like he means it. “You made me believe again, Katya. I thought I was done, that I’d lost my chance, but you gave it back to me. I love you.”

I never thought I’d have this—real love, spoken out loud, given to me without conditions. I never thought anyone would say it, let alone all three of them.

The room is quiet except for our breathing and the hum of tired bodies coming down from everything we’ve shared. I lie between them, my skin still tingling, my heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.

I know what I feel for them is real, but everything that’s happened tonight, and in the days before, is still spinning in my mind.

I take a deep breath and speak up, my voice quieter than I mean it to be. “I need some time to think,” I say honestly. “All of this—three guys, after everything with Novikov, my family—it’s a lot. It’s crazy, even for me.”

Dog nudges me with a crooked grin. “Yeah, it is crazy. But that’s kind of our thing.”

Reaper brushes his hand along my arm, his expression softening. “Take all the time you need, Katya. We’re not going anywhere.”

Bishop squeezes my hand, thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. “We’ll be here. However long it takes.”

I shift on the mattress, untangling my legs from theirs, needing a little space just to breathe. The room is warm and quiet, the afterglow settling in, but my mind is running with everything that just happened and all the choices that led me here.

“With everything that’s happened tonight—and everything that’s probably still coming—I just want to think this through,” I say, not looking away from them.

“I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep, not after the way things were with Novikov.

I need to know this is really what I want. What we all want.”

Dog looks like he wants to protest, but he just nods, running a hand through his hair. There’s no anger, just a tired understanding.

“I mean it,” I go on, voice a little rough. “I’m grateful for you. You all saved my life. Dog, what you did tonight—no one’s ever fought for me like that. And Reaper, Bishop, you came after me even when my own family wouldn’t, even when I was reckless and got myself caught up in all this.”

I look down, twisting the edge of the sheet between my fingers. “I don’t take any of it for granted. I just…I need to be sure. For all our sakes.”

Reaper leans over and kisses my forehead, slow and gentle. “You take all the time you need, sweetheart. We’ll wait.”

Bishop squeezes my arm, and Dog just grins at me, tired but real. “We’re not going anywhere, Katya,” he says, his voice warm. “If you want us, you know where we are.”

Their patience is a gift I never expected. I let myself relax into the pillows, surrounded by the three men who changed everything.

We’re quiet for a while, the kind of hush that settles in when you finally let yourself rest. I stare up at the ceiling, my heart still racing, my body aching in the best ways.

Bishop lies beside me, tracing circles on my shoulder.

Dog’s hand drapes lazily across my waist, his thumb moving up and down, rough and warm, making me shiver every now and then.

Reaper’s pressed against my back, his breath slow and steady, his presence always anchoring.

Bishop is the first to break the silence. “Do you think anyone’s going to ask what happened up here?”

Dog laughs, low and satisfied. “If they don’t know already, they’re dumber than I thought.” His fingers slide over my ribs and I can’t help but smile, feeling lighter than I have in ages.

Reaper leans over, brushing a kiss against the side of my head. “As much as I’d like to stay here all night, people might start wondering where we wandered off to.” He sounds almost disappointed, but there’s a smile in his voice.

Dog just grins, stretching out beside me, looking pleased with himself. “Pretty sure they already have some idea, boss.”

I glance between the three of them, feeling a rush of affection and disbelief. My life has twisted into something wild and new, and for once, I don’t feel lost in it. I feel found. I tuck myself a little closer to Dog and let out a quiet laugh.

“Guess we might as well go face them,” I say, though I don’t really want to move. “Not sure I can walk just yet, though.”

Bishop leans in and kisses my cheek, gentle. “Then we take our time.”

When we finally make our way downstairs, the kitchen is alive with noise—pans clattering, voices carrying from the dining room, someone’s old country playlist humming through a portable speaker.

The smells of coffee and leftover barbecue drift in the air.

I cling to the banister for a second, trying to get my bearings, still feeling every echo of what happened upstairs.

I walk in with the guys, wearing Bishop’s too-big shirt and a pair of jeans I’ve rolled up at the ankle, the fabric soft and unfamiliar on my skin. The Ravagers barely look twice, but Donella catches my eye from across the counter and winks, a knowing smile pulling at her lips.

Heat crawls up my neck and I duck my head, biting back a smile as I slip past her.

I know I must look ridiculous—this shirt hangs nearly to my knees and the jeans are cinched tight at my waist, but right now, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

It feels like a claim, a comfort, a secret I can’t help but wear.

I glance back at the three of them—Dog grinning, Reaper trying to look serious and failing, Bishop with his hand on my lower back like he’s done it a hundred times before.

My men. That thought nearly undoes me. I want to say it out loud, want to shout it to the rafters.

For once, I’m not afraid of what anyone thinks.

These men would burn the world down for me, and for the first time, I let myself want it. I let myself want them.

Donella calls out, “You missed dessert, but I saved you a plate, sweetheart.” There’s a glint in her eye, and I realize she’s not just talking about food.

Dog nudges me, voice low. “Hungry?”

I meet his gaze and feel myself grinning. “Starving.”

I slide into a chair at the crowded table and dig in, not caring that I’m still in Bishop’s shirt or that my hair’s a wild mess.

The first bite is rich and sweet, melting on my tongue.

For a second, I close my eyes, letting the sugar and warmth settle me, letting myself just exist in this moment, surrounded by the sounds of family and safety.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dog steal a forkful, grinning like a thief. Bishop catches my eye from across the table, his expression soft and content. Reaper nudges my knee under the table, silent and solid beside me.

Then Reaper’s phone vibrates and he steps away from the table, jaw tight as he listens, his answers clipped and quiet. The mood in the room shifts before he even hangs up. He disconnects, pocketing the phone, and raises his voice above the clatter and chatter.

“Okay, ladies. I just got a call from the scouts. The Russians are about here. Safe room! Now.”

Chairs scrape. Donella drops her spoon and immediately snaps into motion, her voice level as she gathers the women. “Okay, Reaper. Come on, ladies. Let’s move.”

The air tightens with tension, but no one panics. Everyone knows what to do. I start to fall in line, ready to follow Donella and the other women, but Reaper catches my arm, his grip firm but not rough.

“Not you, darling,” he says, voice low but steady. “You’re the star of the show. Just stand by me, and you’ll be fine.”

My pulse picks up. Part of me wants to argue—wants to be with the women, tucked away where it’s safe and predictable. But I know better. I should have known Reaper would have a contingency plan. He thinks ten steps ahead, always.

I look around as the women file out in a line, Donella giving me an encouraging nod before she disappears through the far door. I turn back to Reaper. He’s calm, already signaling to the guys around the clubhouse, each of them falling into position without a word.

My hands tremble, but I steady them on the edge of the table. If I’m the star, it means this isn’t just about running or hiding. Reaper wants me where he can see me, where he can protect me, or use me as a bargaining chip, if it comes to that.

He glances at me, eyes focused on me. “You stick close, Katya. No heroics, no wandering off. Understand?”

I nod. My voice is steady when I answer, even if my insides aren’t. “Got it.”

Outside, a car engine roars—a harsh, guttural sound that echoes through the empty yard. Instinct has me moving, feet carrying me to the window before I even think about it. Reaper doesn’t stop me. He just watches, silent, trusting that I know how not to get myself killed.

Outside, the yard that was crowded and alive minutes ago now looks deserted, almost eerily so.

The laughter and music, the clatter of dishes, all of it has vanished.

Even most of the bikes that filled the lot when we first arrived are gone, leaving behind only scattered gravel and a faint haze from the grill.

The night feels stretched thin, waiting. Headlights slice through the dark as black cars roll to a halt at the far end of the yard, engines idling, doors opening in perfect, practiced rhythm. I see Novikov step out, flanked by his men—shadows moving like a tide behind him.

He doesn’t waste time. His voice booms across the empty yard, cutting straight through the quiet, and I feel it settle under my skin.

“Return my bride,” Novikov calls, each word slow, ringing with menace, “or I turn this place to dust.”

His threat lingers in the night air, mixing with the smell of burnt charcoal and cut grass. I watch as Reaper steps up beside me, his expression unreadable. The Ravagers are hidden now, but I know they’re watching, waiting.

My pulse pounds, but I hold my ground, keeping my eyes on the man who wants to drag me back into a world I thought I’d escaped.

“Let’s go outside,” Reaper says quietly, not a command, just a calm certainty that leaves no room for fear. My breath catches. I stare at him, searching for any trace of doubt in his eyes, but all I see is resolve, the kind that’s held me together since the night we met.

I glance at Dog, my nerves plain on my face. He catches my eye and nods, solid and silent, as if he’s telling me I’m braver than I think. The room seems to fall away for a moment, the sounds of distant engines and Novikov’s threat fading beneath the heavy thump of my own heartbeat.

I love them, all three of them. It can’t be clearer to me now. I wish now that I’d said something to them before, when they told me they loved me. I wish I had reciprocated.

Reaper reaches for my hand, his fingers rough and warm around mine. He gives a gentle squeeze, grounding me, reminding me I’m not alone in any of this. The gesture is simple, but it’s everything—strength, promise, a wordless I’ve got you .

I realize then, with sudden, aching clarity, that I trust him. Maybe more than I trust myself. And it’s not just him. It’s Dog and Bishop, as well.

All the ways they’ve risked everything for me, let me into their lives, their home, their strange and beautiful chaos. I’ve fallen in love with them, every last one, and the weight of it is both terrifying and right.

Reaper looks at me, and his voice is low, just for me. “You’re not going back to him. Not ever.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to look away from the night, from the moment, from him.

I nod. “I know.”

Hand in hand, we step into the darkness together, ready to face whatever comes next.