“Gorgeous,” he growled, pumping faster, harder.
“Yeah,” I agreed breathlessly.
Not me.
Him.
Amazing.
“Fuck,” he grunted, and I knew he was close.
I was right. His head jerked back but his hips kept slamming in, even harder. He kept thrusting as I watched his head drop forward and his teeth sink into his lower lip and, seriously, watching him come nearly took me there again.
Finally, he drove deep, stayed there, and collapsed on top of me.
I took his weight happily, my arms surrounding him, holding him close.
He didn’t make me take it long. He shifted to a forearm and breathed heavily in my ear.
Finally, as his breathing evened, his hand, still curled around my breast and crushed between us, slid up to my neck. He lifted his head and looked at me.
“Like you comin’ with me, Tabby,” he said gently.
I knew he did. He tried to make me hold out every time unless he was in the mood to watch. Usually, I could manage this, though I had to admit, sometimes I failed.
“Well, I had no control over that, boss,” I replied quietly. “It came out of the blue but, that said, sometimes I like watching too.”
He grinned, bent his head, touched his mouth to mine and lifted up, still grinning.
Then he asked, “ ‘Boss’?”
“ ‘Biker boss’ is too wordy.”
His grin hit smile level, then he remarked, “You know, no condoms means I don’t have to haul my ass outta bed after just comin’ hard and deal with it. I get to be lazy.”
He was teasing.
This was good and bad. Good because he was obviously in a mellow mood regardless of what went down that day. Bad because I had a feeling he was searching for that mellow mood, keeping hold of us and only us so he wouldn’t have to think about what went down.
“You could be a gentleman and haul your ass out of bed anyway in order to get a washcloth and take care of me,” I suggested, and something hot and phenomenal moved through his eyes even as his hips gave a slight jerk and his face got closer to mine.
“You want me to do that?” he asked.
I was being flippant, going with his mood but suddenly, I wanted him to do that. Like, a lot.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
His face got closer so he could kiss me, wet and deep. Then he lifted his head to watch my face as he slowly slid out. I gave him a show I suspected was a lot like what he gave me when I was sliding him out of me. Then he bent, kissed my chest, the underside of my jaw, and he rolled out of bed.
I shifted to my side, curled up, and watched him move to the bathroom. I stayed where I was so I could watch him coming back.
He climbed in, settling on his side in front of me and ordered softly, “Hitch your leg over my hip, baby.”
I did as he told me. His body shifted slightly but his eyes never left my face, and I felt the warm washcloth between my legs.
It felt nice.
I knew this registered on my face when he leaned in closer. “You like that.”
It was a statement.
My hips pressed into his hand. “Yeah.”
His head slid even closer, his lips hit mine, and his tongue slid in my mouth. The washcloth moved between my legs, then Shy shifted it somehow and there was no washcloth, just his fingers between my legs. He slid one finger inside and I moaned into his mouth, my hips twitching. I moaned again when his finger slid out and lightly glided over my clit before it and the washcloth were gone.
He lifted his lips from mine. “Be back, sugar.”
I held his eyes and nodded.
His lips curved and he rolled off the bed.
Repeat of lying there, happily, watching him leave and come back but this time, when he slid in beside me, he settled on his back. He pulled me over him so my chest was to his chest, my cheek was to his shoulder, my face in his neck, and his arm was around me, hand cupping the cheek of my behind.
“We’re doin’ that every time,” he declared, and I smiled.
“Works for me.”
His fingers at my bottom squeezed.
I pulled in breath and trailed my fingers along his opposite shoulder.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Healthy or unhealthy, I’m not gonna think about it now,” he answered instantly. “Just came. Just shared something special with my girl. You’re naked on me. Gonna think about that. What happens will happen. I’ll deal with it then.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
His other arm curled around my back.
I looked for something else to talk about, and something came to mind I’d wanted to ask him since he mentioned his grandmother days ago. It might not be the best conversational gambit, but at least it wasn’t talk of what was happening at Chaos.
Still, I requested first, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he replied immediately, and I smiled into his neck.
“May not be fun,” I warned quietly and his arms gave me a squeeze.
“Not always gonna be fun, baby. Ask anyway.”
I nodded, my cheek sliding against his skin then I asked, “Why didn’t you go to your grandparents after your folks died?”
His arm around my back moved up, his fingers tangling in my hair then drifting through before he answered.
“Don’t know. Mom and Dad made provisions. They picked my uncle. I figure they didn’t get my uncle was weak or they never woulda left us to that. Mom didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Her mom and dad were divorced. Gramps lived up in Wyoming. Mom grew up there until her folks divorced, and Grams moved them down to Denver ’cause she found a job here. Grams was cool, she was also around, took Lan and me to dinner, out to do shit. We never shared how bad it was ’cause we were kids. We didn’t know how, and by the time we could the damage was done. That said, I think she knew shit was not good ’cause she was around as often as she could be. Gramps was cool too. He wasn’t around as much ’cause he was in Wyoming. But he came down, got me my first bike for my fourteenth birthday, a dirt bike. He also gave me my first Harley, bought it thirdhand from a friend, fixed it up, got a buddy to help him bring it down to me. I’m still tight with both of ’em, even though he’s still up in Wyoming and she moved to Arizona a few years ago. Dad’s parents moved to California when he was in college. We didn’t see ’em as much and still don’t.”
“Until you mentioned your grams the other day, I’d never heard you mention them,” I noted.
“There’s no reason for that, sugar. They just never came up.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and offered, “You get to a place where you can take some time off, I’ll drive you up to meet my gramps. He’ll like you.”
“That’ll be cool,” I replied softly.
“Maybe, if Lan can get the time, we can all go down to Arizona this winter. Get away from the cold. See Grams.”
I smiled again. “That’ll be cool too.”
“It’s a plan,” he muttered.
Yeah, it was.
I pressed closer, took in a deep breath, then said what I had to say to get it out of the way, “You don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I’m just going to say, I’m gonna have a chat with Dad—”
He closed his arms tight around me and cut me off by saying, “Tabby, baby, look at me.”