Page 63 of Frisco

I came impossibly hard. The tremors ripped through me, tearing me apart.

Shane groaned and moved my body, turning me to the side and putting his hand on my ass.

“Wha—”

“Not going to do anything there, not yet,” he murmured against my mouth. His hand smoothed over my ass, taking a firm hold as he pushed his fingers into me again, one last roll and he held me as my body shook.

He was still firm behind me, and I shifted back, rolling my hips against him. “You—”

He cut me off, his mouth finding mine. The long kiss was almost sweet at the end. He lifted his head. “I need sleep more than anything else right now. You’ll stay with me?”

I didn’t think I could move at that moment. My bones had melted. I nodded.

He closed his eyes, touched his forehead to my shoulder, and settled in, holding me.

I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, but after a while, hearing his long, deep intakes of breath relaxed me, and…

Knock! Knock!

Shane cursed, but he was up and out of the bed before the knock sounded again. He opened the door, and I heard a muffled conversation before he shut it again. I sat up when he didn’t come back to bed.

The clock said it was almost one in the afternoon, and a roar of engines sounded from outside.

I jumped from the bed, going to the window, and I could see a long line of Harleys coming down the driveway, circling and parking in front of the house.

A toilet flushed. I heard water running, and then the door opened again.

“That’s part of my charter coming,” Shane said, looking toward the window.

I let go of the window shade, turning to him. “I thought you already had part of your charter here.”

“Only some.” He bent down, picking up his clothes. Rifling through them, he separated some items and picked up a bag I hadn’t seen yesterday. He pulled out some new clothes and dressed, a white shirt under his cut. The same jeans as yesterday. He’d left his boots at the door.

“What’s happening today?”

When he looked over, I was taken aback by how much more guarded he seemed today than yesterday. His jaw clenched.

I followed him over to the table and pulled on my sleeping shorts. I had no bra, but we were kinda past that. I leaned against the doorframe as he went through his guns.

Guns. On the table.

How was that a normal thing?

He acted like this was a daily occurrence. Instead of choosing what kind of eggs he wanted for breakfast, he picked what type of gun to take—oh, never mind. He was taking them all.

After checking the ammo, he started putting guns into their holsters all over him. His cut was the last thing he put on. He’d placed it beside his guns on the table.

Another reminder of our differences. My mouth went dry.

I blinked a few times, but the image of Shane in all his biker glory wasn’t one I’d ever forget. I bit my bottom lip. I didn’t know if I liked this look or not. Or if I really liked it.

But the fear was real. The guns were real.

I decided then and there. I did not like this. Not one bit.

“Shane.”

He paused, looking up from his phone now.

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