“Hey, Kenzie. Thanks for helping my girl.”
He shoved his shaggy, light brown hair back from his forehead, revealing heavy brows over deep-set blue eyes. Not a traditional pretty boy—not like Kyle—Levi had a square jaw, a wide mouth, and a lanky frame. Right now, he was adorable. By the time he was in his late twenties, he’d be devastating.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Levi. Hannah’s told me a lot about you. How’s she doing?”
“She’s good. Bonding with Hector. I think I’ve got a rival for her affection.”
Ripper—pushing the green Harley—paused on his way to the door. “Sometimes I think Mac puts up with me just so she can spend time with my dog.”
“I do love Hector.” I followed Ripper toward the door. “But I love his daddy more.”
Ripper glanced back over his shoulder, his brows raised.
I caught up with him as we exited the church. It was early evening—a couple of hours before sunset—but close to Mt. Hood, long shadows already stretched across the land.
“You told me you love me. You have to expect that you’ll hear it back.”
“Yeah, but Hector’s daddy?”
Bantering with the man I loved. One of the simple pleasures I’d thought I’d lost forever, now reclaimed. Happiness bubbled through my veins.
“Where’s your bike?”
“Bent the frame on the Shovelhead when we crashed. Nicole gave me Chimney’s Road King.”
“I’m sorry,” I said haltingly. “I know you loved that bike.”
Ripper planted his hands on his hips and sighed a rueful sigh. “You got hurt when I laid the Shovelhead down. Then everything went to shit. Going through that puts stuff into perspective. No thing—not even my Shovelhead—matters in the long run. People matter. You’re back and I’m good.”
Our reunion still felt like such a miracle that I had to touch him to confirm that he was real. Stepping close, I splayed my hands across his chest. The hard muscles twitched beneath my fingertips. I brushed a finger over his nipple piercing, then gently twisted it.
His breath hitched and his eyes hooded. “Missed you, darlin'. On the back of my bike. In my bed. Under me.”
Heat rose in my cheeks—you’d think I’d be way past blushing, but apparently not—and he chuckled.
“Later,” he promised.
I nodded, biting my lower lip. “Yes, later.”
He slapped my ass, shattering the emotion-laden moment, then pointed at my blood-splattered wedding dress. “You can’t ride in that long skirt.”
“My bag should still be in the room I stayed in, unless Rebecca took it.”
“We’ll be five minutes,” Ripper called to our friends. “I’m going with Mac to get her bag.”
When we got to my room, we found that Rebecca had pilfered all the bath bombs and perfume samples, but left my backpack. By a stroke of luck, she’d dumped my boots on the floor next to the bag.
I tore the stupid bonnet from my head and tossed it onto the bed.
Ripper turned me around and started unfastening the long line of tiny buttons at my back. I shuddered, remembering Rebecca’s words. All the buttons will slow things down tonight, enhancing Bill’s anticipation.
“Fuck this.” A familiar snick, then the sound of fabric shredding as Ripper’s knife tore through the heavy cotton.
Good. Kill the wretched dress.
Once free, I kicked my wedding dress across the room, then glanced down at the modest cotton bra and the high-waist, white granny panties I was sporting.
“Hawt.” Ripper dragged out the word, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Shut up.”
“Nah, I can help, darlin'.”
He held up his knife and prowled toward me, his eyes glittering. Despite myself, I retreated, shuffling backwards until I hit the wall. Ripper would never hurt me, but primitive survival instincts—hardwired into my brain—warred with my rational mind. I devolved into panic-stricken prey, held in thrall by the deadly predator who stalked toward me.
I held my breath when his knife sliced the bra straps, then cut through the narrow band of fabric between my breasts. He plucked at the pieces, tossing them to the floor, before taking the knife to my old lady panties. Ripper dropped to his knees and slipped the white ballerina flats from my feet, divesting me of the last scraps of my accursed wedding attire.
He stood and his hot gaze raked over my naked body, then abruptly stopped when he spied the laceration on my right shoulder. It was healing, but Sahdev hadn’t had the chance to remove the stitches. Frowning, he gently touched the cut. He glanced down at the burn on my inner calf, and his frown deepened.
“Shit,” he breathed. Guilt twisted his face.
I grabbed his chin and forced him to lift his eyes to meet mine. “Not your fault,” I said firmly. “I’m fine.”
Shaking his head, he rejected my reassurances.
“I should’ve—.”
“No.” I cut him off. “No shoulda woulda couldas. The accident wasn’t your fault. I’m fine. We’re together. That’s the only thing that matters.”
I held on tight, compelling him to see the conviction in my eyes, daring him to contradict me when I was so damned happy.
“Stay in the moment, Ripper.”
He nodded and exhaled. The tension slowly leeched from his features. He leaned into me, the weight of his powerful frame pinning me to the wall.
“Reminds me of the night we met,” I reminisced, savoring the sensation of his leather cut digging into my naked breasts.
“Yeah, ’cept then I couldn’t do this.” He slid his hands over my hips and gripped my thighs, then lifted me up, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist.
“May I remind you.” I gasped as he worked the buttons on his fly. “You were mad at me because I blasted you with pepper spray. The last thing on your mind was sex.”
“Oh, yeah?” He laughed, a deep rumble that raised goosebumps across my flesh. “I was mad, darlin', but I definitely wanted to fuck you that night.”
“You did not,” I protested, incredulous.
“No? Then why did I have to jack off before I could fall asleep, imagining that I was pounding into your sweet, tight pussy?”
He grunted and with a single thrust, seated his cock deep inside me.
I lost my train of thought, wobbled, and caught hold of his shoulders.
Ripper frowned. His gaze fell on the thin gold band Pastor Bill had placed on my ring finger when we said our vows. He growled. He actually growled; his chest rumbled against mine. With his teeth, Ripper seized the offending ring and he yanked it up and off my finger. He spat it across the room.
His fingers dug into my thighs and he jerked, hauling me snug against his body.
“You’re mine, Mac. Not his. Never his.”
“I’m yours. Never his,” I agreed weakly.
Satisfied, he nodded, then leaned his forehead against the wall while he fucked me into oblivion.
TWENTY-TWO
Kenzie
We’d decided to spend one last night at Nicole’s cabin. If I had to guess why, I’d bet that Ripper was reluctant to put me on the back of his bike after dark in deer and elk country. I couldn’t blame him for his caution, not after what we’d been through.