Page 34 of June 7

"Oh, sh..." she whispered in a hiss. "Bane?"

He slid his hand between her legs. Slipping his fingers inside her panties, he thrust his thumb into her wet pussy.

Moving down, he pushed his face between her legs without removing his hand. He pulled the crotch of the thin material to the side and attacked her clit in the same way he'd taken her nipples. Licking, sucking, biting.

Her hand landed on his head, grabbing a fistful of hair. Dragged forward, he opened his mouth wider. Slurping, nipping, gnawing like a starving man, he fed off her. His cock raged in his jeans.

Her thighs tightened, holding his head in place. Slowly plunging his thumb inside of the slick warmth, he swallowed her arousal.

He relentlessly gave and gave, needing her to understand that there would be no more nights apart. There would be no more days where she hid from him.

Her orgasm possessed her. Her pussy clamped down on his thumb. Her ass clenched in his palm. Wetness coated his lips and his beard.

As her body shuddered, he slowed, licking the swollen flesh between her legs, eliciting a shudder from her.

Her legs fell away from the sides of his head. He kissed the inside of her thigh, removed his finger from inside her, and straightened.

Daisy's unfocused gaze locked on him. He had her full attention.

"Life's fucking short, babe. I have two choices." He pulled up his t-shirt and wiped his face off before meeting her eyes. "I can spend my time at the clubhouse, fucking any woman that wants to spread her legs, or I can spend it with you—where I want to be. But that means you don't shut me out. I don't have time to play games. I know what I want, and that's you."

"You don't know what you're getting into," she whispered.

"All I know is I want you, Daisy Hill. That's something I can't control." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against her forehead. "I'm an asshole. I don't talk much. I can be mean. But I like how you're nice. Too nice for the likes of me. I like how you make me cookies—and damnit. You have me buying you coffee and donuts. I've never done that before. For anyone."

She ducked her chin. "You don't understand."

"I understand more than you think I do." He hooked her chin and raised her gaze. "I was raised in foster care. I have nothing. Not even my fucking last name is mine. Some social worker slapped the name Stephen Smith on the papers. As soon as I joined Havlin MC, I picked Bane—because I'm the bane of everyone's existence—"

"No." She frowned.

"It's my fucking name." He inhaled roughly. "Babe, I will try and give you whatever you want."

"Oh, Bane." She cupped his whiskered cheek. "You're more than I could ever hope for."

"Then, why are you hiding from me?"

"Because I'm not good—"

"Shut the fuck up."

"You could ask anyone in town about my story, and they'd jump at the chance to tell you every ugly detail." She covered his lips with her fingers. "Even those men in the parts shop last week know about me. People are going to look at you and warn you away from me. And, maybe they should."

"I don't scare that easy."

"You might change your mind about me."

"I won't."

She closed her eyes an extra beat and then slid from the counter. "I'll make us a coffee, and we can sit and talk."

"Are you going to tell me what's stopping you from being with me?"

She nodded.

He inhaled deeply. His body was still wound up from his tongue, taking her to orgasm. He wanted nothing more than to skip the talk and take her to bed, but he needed her settled before they could move on.

"How about we cool off outside? We can sit out on the patio and talk." He moved toward the sliding door.

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