Chapter 23
I was on my way back to the bedroom, my second mug of coffee for the day nestled in my hands. In barely twenty-four hours, Riley had, in fact, owned my body in nearly every room of the house. I was exhausted as I was deliriously happy.
I paused when I crossed the threshold and found him sitting outside in nothing more than his boxer briefs.
His pup was at his side, soaking up his affection as he absentmindedly scratched in the spot between her ears.
Watching him in a quiet minute of solitude, knowing I was the one who had access to him in this way, made my heart ache so much it scared me.
I loved Twister. I really did. But I never had him like this. If he would have given me this—simple, quiet intimacy—I would never have gotten over him. Now, I was sure I’d never get over Riley “Pistol” Wells. Not ever.
I loved him so much it hurt.
Except, as the day raced toward sunset, I was beginning to understand he wasn’t the cause of my pain. I was.
I knew there were pieces of him he wouldn’t give me.
Pieces of him from which he was protecting me.
Truths it was better for me not to know.
But I was keeping things from him, too—a past I was hiding from everyone—and it felt like a lie; a lie that could ruin everything.
In some ways, it had already tried to chip away at us.
Rusty attempted to warn me, and this weekend getaway was further proof Riley didn’t want Cherry. Not really. But that didn’t make her less of a threat knowing what someone like her was capable of. I knew all too well.
Covered in one of Riley’s tees, I ventured across the room to join him out on the balcony. As soon as I took the seat next to his, he reached over and dragged me closer. I yelped in surprise then laughed softly into my coffee cup, taking a sip.
Relaxed as he was, he looked back out over the mountain, not saying a word.
Simple, quiet intimacy.
The smart thing to do would have been to keep my mouth shut and enjoy everything about where I found myself. The late summer mountain air was perfect. I smelled like Riley and sex—really great sex. The Airbnb had delicious coffee. And so long as we were locked away, club drama barely existed.
But I couldn’t enjoy the view.
I couldn’t stomach the coffee.
The way I felt about Riley was becoming all consuming, and there wasn’t room for the lies. I was going to suffocate if I didn’t tell him.
“Can we talk?”
“About?” he asked casually in reply.
“Cherry.”
He turned his head, looked me straight in the eye, and said flatly, “No.”
It was stupid. It was so totally and completely stupid, but his answer filled me with uncontrollable suspicion and doubt. Before I could think better of it, I asked, “No because you’re a Stallion and you can do whoever the hell you want, or no because—”
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” he interrupted, his brow dipping into an irritated scowl.
He was right. I knew he was right. We were in a house on the side of a mountain that probably cost a whack because he wanted to give me a honeymoon.
A honeymoon.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit—this is coming out all wrong,” I groaned, feeling slightly panicked. “I didn’t mean to make this about her. She just…she triggers me.” Riley stared at me, his scowl still marring his handsome face. I needed to fix this. I needed to explain.
“She reminds me of…me,” I confessed.
His expression softened into something else. While certainly less angry, he couldn’t be described as open. With narrowed eyes, he replied, “Not followin’, babe.”
Damn, but I started this and now I had to finish it.
I took a breath, turning to face him more directly before I squared my shoulders and began.
“I told you my brother and I had a falling out after he got his final patch. It was bad. So bad that I ran away. I moved to Wyoming. To Gillette. I—I lived in the Stallion clubhouse down there for three years.”
I could tell by the look in his eyes he was no longer confused. There was only one kind of woman who made her home in a biker clubhouse. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Fortunately, his awareness of this truth meant I didn’t have to get into the details.
As I studied his face, trying to tell what he might be thinking, a knot clogged my throat, preventing me from saying anything more.
This was it. This was either the beginning of forever or the beginning of the end. I knew it down to my bones.
‘…I won’t tell my brothers how used up you are; how you’ll spread your legs as a ploy; or how you’re so fuckin’ selfish, the only thing you care about is a man’s title and the power it’ll earn you.’
I heard Twister’s words in my ears just then as clear as if he were standing right behind me. I felt my bottom lip start to quiver as I tried my damnedest to fight my tears, but it was no use.
Riley still didn’t say a word.
It scared the shit out of me.
Finally, he said, “You moved back. You got an apartment. You got a job.”
I nodded, sure if I tried to speak a sob would come out instead.
He leaned toward me then, reaching over to brush away my tears with the backs of his fingers. His touch was so gentle, I found myself holding my breath, desperate with hope.
“Killed a man with these hands, baby,” he began, his voice hardly more than a low rumble. “You saw me do it. Still, you don’t flinch when I touch you. Sometimes, you look at me like I hung the fuckin’ moon—and it’s not because you’re bat-shit crazy. You understand this life. You’re built for it.”
I hiccuped, trying my best to wrangle my emotions.
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
He reached for my coffee, setting it on the deck between us before taking my hand.
“Come ‘ere,” he demanded with a tug.
I obeyed, following his lead until I sat straddling his hips.
This time, when he wiped my cheeks dry, he used the palms of his hands. He then buried his fingers in my hair, taking hold of my head in order to draw me closer.
“You got a history. Who doesn’t? Shit I’ve got rottin’ in my baggage, shit you don’t need to know, I can assure you it ain’t pretty—but it doesn’t change this.
Won’t let it ruin us.” He paused a beat, his eyes staring intently into mine.
In his silence, he expressed everything I needed to hear—and then he kept going.
“Don’t care who you were or what you’ve done, Ly. I don’t know her. I know you. You’re my angel. You’re my wife. You, baby.”
I didn’t let him say another word, sure if I didn’t shut him up, I’d start crying and I wouldn’t be able to stop. Instead, I pressed my mouth to his.
Hard.
He was quick to follow my lead, one of his hands moving to take hold of the back of my neck as he tilted his head, pried open my lips, and devoured me. I gave as good as I got, clinging to him with all my might, trying—and decidedly failing—to convey just how much what he said meant to me.
But there was no way I was going to be able to show him how his promises meant everything to me without giving him everything in return. Unable to stand the clothing separating us a second longer, I pressed both my hands against his tatted chest, pushing him away as I pried my mouth from his.
I didn’t speak as I gasped for breath, and he didn’t release me from his grasp until I reached for the hem of his shirt and began yanking it off my body.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I registered the sound of part of the garment landing inside my coffee mug, but I was too focused on my man to latch onto what I’d done.
And my man—my husband—was as consumed by the urgency of the moment as I was.
I reached for the waistband of his underwear at the same time he lifted his hips, helping me move the fabric enough to free his cock.
I wrapped my fingers around his length and found he was already half hard.
As I began to stroke him, he buried his fingers in my hair once more, drawing me to him for a kiss.
Fuck, but he could own my mouth like no one else.
By the time I had him fully erect, his kiss had made me slick enough to welcome him inside of me. As I pressed up onto my knees, Riley inched forward along the cushion beneath us, leaning back against the chair as I positioned him at my entrance.
We both sighed as I eased my way around him until I was fully seated. I let my head fall back as my eyes closed, relishing in the feel of him filling me so completely.
It was perfect.
He was perfect.
I was officially ruined in the best possible way, and there would never be anyone else.
His hands skimmed both my thighs, sending a shiver of excitement up my spine as he murmured, “Ride, angel.”
I righted my head, my eyes searching for his, my insides clenching around him at the sight of his heated gaze aimed at me through hooded eyes. I grabbed hold of his bare shoulders and began to move.
It didn’t take long for me to find a rhythm, but as pleasurable as it felt, it seemed I couldn’t get close enough.
I thrust my hips harder, longing for the ache between my legs.
With a moan, I rode him faster, chasing after something greater than a climax.
I wanted him to know—I needed him to feel it—that I was his.
His hands roamed my body even as his eyes stayed locked with mine, bringing me closer to the brink. And then, before I was ready, I was coming.
“Ri—”
It was all I could get out before I was forced to surrender to the bliss of it all. I moaned as my body quaked, unable to thrust a moment more, my eyes sealing shut tight.
“That’s it, baby,” Riley growled as he clapped a hand against my ass cheek. “Come all over your man’s cock.”
My man.
Fuck—but I couldn’t get close enough.
As if he could read my mind, we were up and on the move before I could recover from the impact of my orgasm.
With one arm braced around my back, his opposite hand holding tight to my backside, he carried me into the bedroom, taking me straight for the dresser.
Relieved of the burden of my weight, he grabbed hold of my legs under my knees and spread me wide.
I barely had the chance to brace myself, my hands splayed atop the dresser on either side of us, before he began pounding in and out of me.
This—this was what I longed for.
His brute force making me ache as he claimed me.
“Feel that, angel? Hmm? You feel me hard as stone inside you?”
I nodded, unable to catch my breath enough to offer much more than a whimper.
“The only dick this pussy knows from here on out is mine, Ly. You’re mine.”
When I opened my mouth to agree, rather than the yes that resounded in my mind, a sob of ecstasy rang out as I came again—this one more powerful than I thought I could handle.
I was so lost in my own pleasure, I almost missed his.
Letting go of one of my legs, he smacked his open palm against the wall behind me as he buried himself deep, tucking his face into my neck, his grip around my other knee painfully tight.
I felt him everywhere—everywhere—and I was finally satisfied.
For a minute, neither of us moved as we worked to catch our breath.
Riley was the first to disengage. He slipped out of me, evidence of our shared climax soon to follow.
He let go of my leg, and I watched him as he slowly swept his fingers through my lips, gathering his release before pushing it back inside me.
No one had ever done that to me before, and it made my stomach clench.
He didn’t say anything as he stared down at our connection point. When he finally looked up at me, he grabbed hold of my face then planted a hard, closed-mouth kiss against my lips.
“She’s gone, baby,” he muttered, his mouth still touching mine.
“What?” I breathed.
My mind trapped in a haze of our own making, I didn’t follow.
“Cherry. She’s gone. For good. Don’t ever want to hear her name again.”
I hardly had the chance to absorb what he was saying before he extracted his fingers from inside of me. He then bent until his shoulder was pressed against my stomach, circled his arm around my back, and hauled me up like a sack of potatoes.
I yelped in surprise and cried, “What are you doing?”
“We’ll shower, then we’ll grub. After that, I’m eatin’ your pussy.”
My man was hungry, he wanted me for dessert, and Cherry was gone. Much as I wanted to know the ins and outs of what that meant, he said what he said loud and clear.
Seeing as I wasn’t a crazy person, I didn’t argue.
Two days.
After two full days of hiding out in the mountains with Riley and Reaper, it felt like we were leaving as more than who we were when we arrived. We were leaving as a family—the Wells family.
To anyone else, it may have seemed implausible; but we’d been moving at the speed of light since the beginning.
I wasn’t sure we knew how to exist any other way.
Now, it didn’t merely feel like we were loading up his Road King to head home after a long weekend.
The destination might have been accurate, but the intention was different, our foundation as solid as it had ever been.
I was in love with him; and unlike in the past, I didn’t feel anxious about telling him.
It wasn’t a secret I was keeping or a longing I was protecting from the harshness of reality.
I knew the words would come out when they were supposed to.
Until then, I had the memories of this weekend to hold onto—a reminder that he chose me.
Over and over again, he kept choosing me.
And the baggage we were leaving behind prove it.
No more secrets. No more Cherry. Just us.
“Traffic’s gonna be shit. We should get goin’,” insisted Pistol as he finished securing Reaper in her sidecar. “You ready?”
Slipping my fingertips into the back pockets of my jeans, I took one last look at the house. It felt silly, mostly because it was an uncharacteristically sentimental thought, but I hoped we’d come back one day to our romantic honeymoon hideaway.
“Hey,” Pistol muttered, now standing at my side.
He wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, giving me a gentle squeeze, and I turned to look up at him with a smile.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” I murmured.
I felt the flinch of his fingers against my skin as his eyes danced around my face. He then leaned down and pressed a light kiss against my lips before he replied, “Let’s ride, angel.”
I nodded and he let me go, moving to mount his hog. I was quick to follow.
He started the engine, I wrapped my arms around him, and we took off—racing toward forever.