Page 97 of His Road Dog

His hand stilled between her legs. She grabbed onto his forearm, frantic for him to keep going, to keep caring, to keep...to keep...to keep...

"Babe, I need you to trust me," he whispered.

Desperate, she panted. "I do."

His forehead came back to her forehead. His rough, calloused finger softly circled her clit, taking her higher and higher.

Warmth flooded her body. Holding on to his arm, she closed her eyes, feeling his breath on her face.

Her orgasm exploded, vibrating throughout her. She weakened, sagging against Priest. Breathing heavily, she let go of her anger. He'd always asked her to trust him, and she had until today.

When her trust in him failed, pain, and hurt invaded. Her insecurities rose and put doubts in her head.

She was raised to believe in the good of other people, to give what she had to share, to bolster others when she felt down, to love everyone, no matter what walk of life they'd chosen.

Peace. Love. Happiness.

"Michael?" She raised her head. "I'm not going to lead Tarkio to the commune, but I'll write my folks a letter and ask them to come to you. You can talk to them here in Missoula. I can't do more than that. They're my parents. My family."

"Will they come?"

She nodded. "Of course. They love me."

He inhaled deeply and kissed her softly. "That'll work."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, babe." He slid his hand out from between her legs. "I can make this work."

She hummed, straightening her dress. "It's not my decision to make. It'll be up to my dad and the other men in the commune. You need to promise me that if my dad says no to you, you let him."

And, that's what the bottom line was all about. The business Priest wanted to do with her dad involved Tarkio Motorcycle Club and the commune. She'd done her part by protecting those she loved—on both sides.

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