This woman—my twin flame—is my one and only. My prayer is that when the truth comes out, she’ll give me the chance to explain.
When we reach the compound, the bikes split off, heading to their destinations—homes, dorm rooms, the clubhouse.
Dani and I ride on, up the hill to our place.
I cut the engine and swing off the bike, then turn to face her. It’s not easy with the way we’re perched, but we make it work.
She unhooks her helmet, places it behind her, and raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing, Dev?” Her voice is playful, her eyes twinkling under the security light.
“If you have to ask, then I’m doing it wrong, babe.”
I cup the back of her neck and pull her to me, pressing my mouth to hers in a kiss that says mine. Tongue claiming, lips rough. It’s been years since we made out on the bike, but damn if it doesn’t snap me right back to the beginning.
She tangles her fingers in my hair, nails scraping my scalp, then tilts her head to direct me down her neck. Her little gasps and moans are making it hard to sit still. I grip her hips, digging my fingers into the denim of her shorts, grinding us together.
“Devil, don’t stop,” she pants.
That voice—breathy and needy—was the first thing that got me hard when we met. She’d given me one long look, paused at my fly, and told me no man tells her what to do.
I’ve been hers ever since.
I trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, until the edge of her tank top blocks my path. Irritated, I reach up, yank the fabric down, dragging her bra with it. Her bare breast is exposed to the night—and to me.
“Devil, we should take it inside,” she says, squirming on the seat.
“We’re just fine right here.”
We don’t do shit like this anymore. Back when we were dating, I fucked her against the clubhouse wall with a party going on inside. Now? We’ve become the couple who has sex on Tuesdays, lights off, and “wild” means doggy style. That ends now.
I wrap my lips around her nipple, sucking and biting the peak. She jerks against me, hips rolling.
I plant my feet, steadying the bike as I devour her.
With a growl, I pull back, her nipple glistening in the moonlight. “You like that, Daniela?” I blow cool air on the wet skin.
“Yeah, I love it,” she moans. “But I’d love for you to fuck me instead.”
She’s never been shy about what she wants. It’s part of what made me fall for her in the first place.
I hop off the bike, lift her into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist, and carry her toward the house. I don’t let go of her nipple—my mouth stays latched like it’s my last breath.
“You’ve gotta turn, Dev,” she grits. “So I can use the keypad.”
I shift just enough, and she punches in the code. The door opens. I step inside, slam it shut, and lock it.
Then I spin her around to face the door, sliding my hands beneath her shirt to cup her breasts, my mouth hot on her neck. She grinds back against my cock.
“Devil, stop teasing,” she growls, scratching the door in frustration.
I reach down, unbutton her shorts, and shove them down. “Step out,” I mutter.
She kicks off her shoes and the denim pools around her ankles. I kneel behind her, spreading her thighs.
“What are you?—”
Her question cuts off when I press my mouth to her pussy. Her hands slam into the door, fingers gripping my hair as I feast on her.
“Dev,” she pants. “I can’t…”
