Page 48 of Bullet

I tipped my head back and moaned as he sank two fingers inside me. “Yes.”

Nipping at my neck, Ford growled against my skin. “I'm gonna finger-fuck this pussy until you beg me to stop. Then I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to see straight.”

That sounded like the perfect way to start the day in my opinion.

After Ford kept his promise, we went another round in the shower, then he helped me properly clean my tattoo and put ointment on it.

“How does it feel?” he asked as I got dressed.

“Like a sunburn.” My arm was tight and stung where my new tattoo was.

He chuckled. “That's a good way to describe it.”

I smiled at him. He was so handsome, especially when he let his guard down.

“I've gotta go to the shop. Need a ride back to your car?”

I looked at him in the mirror as I braided my hair to the side. “That would be nice.”

Ford smiled fondly at me. He was already dressed in a white tee shirt, black jeans, and his cut. “There's coffee if you need it. It's about all I have here for breakfast.”

I giggled. “Yeah, I'll grab a cup.”

After I got dressed and freshened up, we drank a cup of coffee together before we left. When Ford pulled up next to my car in the casino parking lot, I hopped off, slipping off the helmet and handing it to him. “Thanks.”

He smacked me on the ass and grinned. “See you later?”

I smiled. “If you're lucky, old man.”

He chuckled before revving the bike and driving away. I unlocked my car and got in, sighing. Ford made me happy, and that scared the shit out of me. I didn't need to go falling for him, but I didn't see how not to unless we stopped seeing each other, and I didn't want that.

We were both being selfish and reckless. He was going against club politics, and I was going against my family. But neither one of us seemed to care. Not only was the sex mind-blowing, but I had a good time with him. He wasn't afraid to call me on my shit and put me in my place when I needed it, and that was hot as hell. He treated my body like a temple and knew exactly how to worship me like I deserved. No other man had even come close to making me feel the way he did.

Like an addict, I knew what I was doing wasn't good for me, but I couldn't stop. I'd had a hit and wanted as much as I could get, no matter if the result would be ugly. And there was no way it couldn't be. Blood would most likely be spilled, and that would be on my hands unless I was smart about what we were doing.

Everything had to be secret: meetings, conversations, stolen moments. Neither of us could tell anyone, not even those we trusted most; it would be too risky. And I didn't want anyone getting hurt because of our selfishness.

I drove home, feeling confident with my decision. I was sure Ford would agree that if we were going to continue doing what we were doing, we needed discretion and secrecy in order for anything to work. I just hoped it didn't bite us in the ass in the end.

I was surprised to find my dad home when I pulled up. He typically spent most of his time at the strip club or clubhouse, and I rarely saw him now that I was working. “Hey, Dad.”

At first, my dad smiled at me, but his eyes narrowed as they fell on my tattoo. “What the hell is that on your arm?”

“I got a tattoo for Grandpa,” I replied.

His expression softened as he walked over to me. “Let me take a look.”

I held out my arm for him to see. He carefully gripped it as he inspected my new ink.

“Do you think Grandpa would've liked it?” I asked, hoping for validation of my choice.

He grinned. “He would've loved it, sweetheart. It's perfect.”

Pride swelled within me, knowing my grandpa would've approved of my tribute to him. I had to take a deep breath to fight the tears pricking my eyes.

My dad let go of my arm. “Who'd you go with?”

Shit. I hadn't prepared for an interrogation. I quickly thought up a lie, my acting skills coming in handy. “Nina. We went after work, then I crashed back at her place.”

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