Page 100 of Wild Side

I am going to continue to keep an eye on his digital footprint, though.

Climbing onto our bikes, we ride home. I have a woman waiting for me.

My woman.

BRIANA

SEVEN HOURS LATER

The front door opens, and I shift my attention from the television to the man standing in the doorway.

My man.

I search his face for any indication of pain. He takes a couple of steps toward the living room, then sinks down in the armchair with a whoosh. I watch as his eyes slide closed and he tips his head back with a groan.

“Fourteen hours on a bike was too long,” I state.

I’ve been watching him on Life360 since he left. I know how many breaks he didn’t take and how long he rode that bike without stopping for more than a few moments to refill the tank. He should have taken longer. There is zero reason that he couldn’t have spent the night in a hotel and rested.

“I wanted to get home to you, babe,” he says.

Standing from the sofa, I walk toward him. I think about sinking down on his lap, but I don’t want him to be in any more pain than he’s already in. So instead, I sink down between his legs, and he widens them to accommodate me.

Placing my palms on his thighs, I look up into his eyes as he flicks them down to me. Our gazes connect, and my heart soars. Butterflies fill my belly, and I wonder how it’s possible to always feel this way about him.

“Your body needs the rest, Light, to heal.”

He shakes his head once, then I feel his hand cup my cheek. His thumb slides across my bottom lip, tugging on it slightly. Reaching for his belt, I unbuckle it, then unbutton and unzip his jeans.

“Briana,” he says, his tone full of faux warning.

Standing, I shove my sleep shorts down before I climb into the chair, straddling him. His hands grip my hips as he holds me. “I’ll do all the work, you just rest,” I whisper.

His lips twitch into a smirk as I lower myself, taking all of him inside me. Once I’m settled down, fully seated with his thick length filling me, I lift my hands and rest them on his shoulders.

My eyes are focused on his, the connection unbreakable as we stare at one another, both of us unmoving. His hands move from my hips, his fingertips gently glide up my sides, and then I feel him cup my breasts. His thumbs slide across my already hardened nipples as his gaze searches mine.

“You never have to worry about him again, babe. Not fucking ever. I will protect you with my life. Always,” he murmurs.

I know who he’s talking about, I know where he went, and while I wasn’t extremely concerned, I can admit that there was a level of worry that I don’t think was ever going to go away completely.

That man watched me for weeks, followed me, and made himself visible to me at every moment possible. He did it to mess with my head, and it was working. I hadn’t been going outside, I hadn’t been living any kind of life.

I’m back to living now.

“I love you, Briana.”

My eyes widen, and I’m taken completely out of my head with that declaration. My lips part in awe as I look down at this man. This wild man who owned me with a single touch over a year ago, even if I didn’t know it yet, even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself, it was still a fact.

Grant owns me. Every single piece of me. I was meant for him and meant to be his.

I begin to move my hips, to rock them and feel the way he stretches me. The way he fills me and consumes me all at the same time. Shifting my torso forward, I touch my mouth to his, my lips pressing against his, and only then, when I can feel his warm breath against my mouth, do I speak.

“I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you, Grant. And I will love you with my final breath.”

No other words need to be spoken. His fingers flex against my breasts, and that’s when I continue to move. I keep my mouth against his, needing to feel his breath on mine, needing to inhale his exhale. I want all of him, as much of him as possible, inside me.

Lightning is my present and my future. There is nobody else on this earth who makes me feel the way that he does. My soul is at peace. I no longer feel the need to run, because there is nowhere else to go.

This is where I belong.

In his arms.