Page 117 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

Soon enough, I drink every drop of Diesel too.

We collapse into each other’s arms, our bodies singing in the rapture of our love. Our limbs are tangled. Our hearts beat as one while we stare at the ceiling, sweat glistening on our cheeks and temples.

“We almost didn’t make it,” I whisper, my heart still thudding.

Jagger pulls me into a kiss. “But we did. We made it.”

Nothing can stop us.

I see that now.

The worst part is over. All that’s left for us is to pick up where we left off, to keep raising each other up, to keep building our lives, brick by brick as we prepare to welcome our baby into a complicated but beautiful world. It won’t be easy, but it will be a wonderful experience. I know it. Deep down, I know it.

Epilogue I

Robyn

Were it not for this baby bump of mine, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the months gone by since we survived hell itself. But here we are, gathered at the clubhouse once more on a sunny, albeit cold, morning. It’s Sunday, and it’s Christmas Eve.

“Is Santa coming tonight?” Kyra asks, working her way through a gingerbread cookie and a glass of warm milk.

“She looks like a tiny queen in that chair,” Samson chuckles.

“It’s a fine piece of woodwork you made her,” I say with a warm smile.

He built it himself, and it looks sturdy, yet elegant. I knew Samson liked to dabble in wood crafts, but I had no idea he was this good. The chair is his first Christmas gift for us—the one gift we’re allowed to open before tomorrow morning that is.

“And yes, young lady, Santa is coming tonight,” I tell my daughter. “Tomorrow morning, we’re all going to come downstairs and find lots of presents under the tree.”

“What a beautiful tree,” Knox declares as he comes over to the bar.

Diesel and Jagger are right behind him, each carrying a plate of holiday-themed hors d’oeuvres from the kitchen. Shay serves a fresh batch of cinnamon and clove tea, while Samson gazes adoringly at Kyra.

“You’ll make a fine grandaddy, I’ll tell you that much,” I giggle softly.

The sparkle in Samson’s eyes fills me with a different kind of warmth. For the first time, I feel like I’m truly at home, among family. They’re the best kind of family too.

“You’re right, Knox. It is a beautiful tree,” Jagger quips, perhaps thinking we didn’t hear it the first time. All I can do is laugh.

“Fine, if you want a medal for decorating that tree, you’ve got it. I’ll have one made for you three, I promise,” I tell them.

My men take turns planting a kiss on my cheek.

“You’re more beautiful with each passing day,” Jagger tells me.

“And bigger,” I say.

“Bigger is beautiful,” Diesel quips, “especially since that’s our little Rider growing in there,” he adds, gently caressing my belly. I can feel his touch as though it’s skin on skin, even through the soft cashmere of my sweater.

Kyra gives me a pleading look. “Mommy, can I have another cookie?”

“Only if you promise to take your afternoon nap. You skipped yesterday,” I reply.

“Okay,” she sighs, sounding downright disappointed.

Knox gives her a playful nudge. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll tire you out. We’ve got a few more decorations to put up around the clubhouse, and I need your help to do it.”

“Really?” She sounds so hopeful and excited.

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