“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 stretchedmoment 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.
