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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

BULLET

Breaking the kiss, I reach down and grip the backs of her thighs to pick her up off the ground. She cries out and wraps her arms around my neck, her eyes on mine as I walk her over to the rock where I usually sit and contemplate life. Today it’s going to allow me to fuck my woman.

I set her down on the edge of the flat rock before I sink down to my knees, my eyes never leaving hers. Reaching for the button of her jean shorts, I pop it, then slowly slide the zipper down and gently tug them down her legs before I toss them away, along with her panties.

My fingertips glide up the outsides of her thighs and beneath her shirt, taking it with them as I pull it off her head and throw it down to meet her shorts somewhere in the dirt.

She reaches behind her back to unhook her bra before it slides down her arms, and then I watch as she tosses it on the ground as well.

Curling my fingers around her tits, I slide my thumbs across her nipples, rising higher on my knees before I move back down so I’m face to face with her perfect pink cunt. Shifting one of my hands from her tit to her throat, I curve my fingers around the front of her neck.

I flatten my tongue and slide it along her entire center, swirling her clit when I do—tasting all of her. I feel her fingers glide through the strands of my hair, gripping me and pulling me closer. She wants more of me, and she can have it. She can have all of me.

I eat her—with tongue and teeth.

Squeezing her tit, I massage her firmly there, pinching her nipple and tugging on it as I continue to focus on devouring her delicious fucking pussy. Then I shift my attention to her clit, where I suck and swirl my tongue, giving all of my attention to that sweet little bundle of nerves.

Releasing my grasp on her breast, I slip my hand between her legs and sink two fingers inside of her before I curl them. At the same time, my other fingers flex around her throat. When she cries out, the sound comes out raspy and hoarse, bouncing off the mountains around us.

Her hips lift into my tongue’s touch, and then it happens. I feel her body almost vibrate beneath me. She’s close. My fingers move faster, and my tongue finds a rhythm that I know she enjoys.

She comes.

Flexing my fingers around her throat again, I close my eyes and savor the flavor of her taste that floods my tongue before she cries out hoarsely again. I slip my fingers from inside of her and lap at her until I’ve tasted every ounce of her release. Turning my head, I touch my lips to the inside of her thigh and move my body up hers, keeping my hand around her throat as my mouth finds her lips.

I kiss her chastely before my lips glide across her jawline, then to her ear, where I whisper to her.

“My woman. My old lady. My soon-to-be bride.” Her body trembles, but I don’t stop speaking. “There is nobody else I want. Just you.”

Her arms wrap around me, and she pulls me closer to her. My clothed body against her naked one. It’s hot as fuck. Releasing my grip around her throat, I lift my head from her ear and look into her eyes.

“Just you.”

Her gaze searches mine as her hands move around my shoulders to cup my cheeks. Then I feel her thumb slide across my bottom lip. “Just me,” she whispers.

“Say it again.”

“Just me.”

My lips twitch into a smirk. “Who are you?” I ask.

“Yours.”

I shake my head once and clear my throat. “Tell me who you are, baby.”

Her gaze searches mine. “I’m yours,” she exhales.

“You’re my what?” I demand as I slip my hand between her legs again and slide two fingers inside of her, my thumb pressing against her sensitive clit. Her entire body jumps, her eyes widening and her lips parting.

“Yours,” she whispers.

Making a tsking noise, I begin to swirl my finger against her clit. Over and over, watching her body twitch and jump with each firm circle. Then her hands leave my cheeks and grip my biceps.

“My what?” I demand softly. “I want you to shout it. I want to hear it echo through the mountains around us.”

“Your woman,” she cries out, though not loud enough to make it echo around us.

“You’re my old lady,” I grind out as I continue to work her cunt.

She whimpers but doesn’t say anything. Then I hear it. Her words ring out, her body bows, and I continue to move my fingers faster, my thumb circling with firmer pressure. And I want to fuck her right this second. I wish I were inside of her because when she screams who she is, my cock instantly hardens.

“I’m Bullet’s old lady.”

And she comes—again.

So fucking spectacular.

And mine. All mine.

DAKOTA

Closing my eyes, I let the setting sun warm my body and soothe me as I hold on to Bishop’s waist and enjoy the ride. My center is sore, and I’m beyond satiated. I’m also tired, exhausted from all of it. From the drama, from the heartache, from the sleepless night. From the amazing sex outside on a rock.

I never in a million years would have thought that I would have sex right there in the daylight, where anyone could happen upon me. I mean, people did at Willamette Haven, but that’s not the same as what we did.

I expect him to pull up to the clubhouse, but when my father’s home comes into view and we stop next to my rental car, he kills the engine. Yesterday, we had plans to get this car, gather my things from the motel, and move me temporarily into Bishop’s room at the clubhouse.

We didn’t do that.

Instead, I packed a bag from the motel, and that’s as far as things got. Now, I guess it’s time to finish up the job. Except, after we’ve parked, Bishop doesn’t move. There is a stretched moment of silence, almost uncomfortably so. I open my mouth to speak, but thankfully, Bishop finally says something because I’m not sure what I was even going to say.

“Can’t let you walk away from me, Dakota.”

Climbing off the bike, I turn to face him, standing by his side as he straddles the bike. He continues to stare at the house, but something inside of him has shifted during the bike ride. I’m not sure what it is, but I don’t like it.

He shifts his gaze to meet mine. His eyes are like swirling clouds of uncertainty. I don’t understand his sudden shift in mood, but I also don’t say anything, at least not immediately. Instead, I move closer to him, spreading my legs and straddling his thigh, much like he still is the bike.

Lifting my hands to his cheeks, I cup them. They’re scratchy from his beard stubble. Goose bumps break out all over my body at the thought of feeling that scratchy stubble against my inner thighs again.

It was hot as hell, and even though I’m not sure I could have any kind of sex right now, I would certainly try because it felt that amazing. I don’t tell him that I’m not going anywhere because that would probably be a lie.

Instead, I bend slightly and touch my lips to his. “Let’s get my car and go home.”

He hums, his fingers curling around the back of my thigh. I feel him squeeze me there before I break the chaste kiss and straighten.

“I can’t wait to start my life with you,” I confess.

I’m not sure when I became this daring woman. This person who throws caution to the wind, but then again, maybe I am that. I walked away from the only home I had known, with zero way to take care of myself.

Granted, Briana helped me, and this time, Bishop is helping me, along with my father from beyond. I have a place to live, money, and a whole group of people who seem to love my father enough to accept me into their world.

“We’re not doing shit on the up and up,” he murmurs. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you, and I can’t ever promise that it won’t happen again. I should let you walk away from me. But I can’t.”

“Then don’t,” I breathe.

His fingers flex against my thigh, gripping me tighter. My eyes don’t leave his. I’m not sure I would even want to look anywhere else but into his gaze. Does any other view compare? Does it even exist?

“Now, let’s go get my things from the motel.”

“Yeah,” he grunts, releasing his grasp on me.

I take a step backward and smile as he throws his leg over the bike and straightens. Then he brushes past me and walks straight toward the front door. I start to ask him what he’s doing but then remember that my rental car keys are probably inside, along with the key to the motel room.

Once he’s inside the house, I follow behind him. I expect to feel some sort of anxiety about being here again. But I don’t. When he turns to face me, his gaze silently searches mine. Then he clears his throat.

“You good?”

“I’m good,” I state.

Honestly, I don’t want to stay here longer than I need to. While I’m not anxious or scared about being here, I’m also not ready to do more than just grab my things. Bishop must sense how I’m feeling because just a few moments later, I’m following behind his motorcycle on our way to the motel.

Bishop is loading my things into the trunk of the car. The room has been emptied, and it’s kind of ridiculous that I paid for so many nights and only slept a few of them in it.

When I head toward the front desk to tell the clerk that I’ll be checking out, I notice that it’s the same girl sitting there from the day I checked in. Tugging on the door handle, I slip inside and walk up to the counter.

She’s sitting behind it. She doesn’t even look up before she lets out a heavy sigh. Again, nothing has changed. My existence as a person annoys her, but maybe everyone annoys her, and I’m not special.

“I would like to check out,” I say.

She lifts her eyes to meet mine, then rolls them to the ceiling. “Just leave your key,” she announces.

“Okay,” I murmur, placing the key on the counter.

I open my mouth to tell her thank you , but her spine straightens, her chest pops out, and she plasters on a smile, the likes of which I have never seen before. I stare at her, my mouth hanging open as she bats her eyelashes.

Then I feel a warm hand at the small of my back and snap my lips shut because I know exactly what she’s being all friendly about. “Hey there, Bullet,” she purrs.

Turning my head, I look up at Bishop, who isn’t even looking at her. His eyes are on me and only me. “You ready, baby?” he murmurs.

“I’m ready.” I keep my voice soft.

The girl makes a noise that sounds much like a harrumph, but if Bishop hears her, he doesn’t even glance in her direction. Instead, he turns around, holding his hand out for me. I slip my fingers in his, and he curls his around mine, tugging me behind him, and together, we walk toward his bike and my car.

“When we get to Oregon, we’re dropping the rental off and you’ll come home on the back of my bike,” he announces.

Flicking my attention between the car and the bike, I wonder if that’s even going to be possible for me. The thought of riding across the entire United States on the back of that bike doesn’t only seem impossible but also uncomfortable.

My nose wrinkles at the thought, and Bishop throws his head back in laughter. “Okay, baby. Maybe not, then.”

Lowering his head, he brushes his lips across mine. “We’ll figure something out.”

“You keep saying that about, well… everything,” I inform him.

His lips twitch against my mouth, and he lifts his head, his eyes dancing as they look into mine. “Together, we’ll always figure it out. No matter what it looks like. Or how impossible it feels.”

God.

Why is he so damn sexy? And why do his words make me want to hear more from him? I want him to whisper anything to me. He could read a grocery list in my ear, and I’m pretty sure I would be wet for him.

“Let’s go.”

He takes a step backward, climbs on his bike, and I slip into the driver’s seat of the car. Starting the engine again, I follow behind him, and we make our way back to the clubhouse.

It doesn’t take us long to get there, and when we pull into the parking area, I notice that the grill is out and there are food trays on the table. We’re going to have family time, and I’m beyond excited and starving.