Page 30 of Single Mom's Bikers

“That’s it, sweetheart.” His voice drops lower. “Show me how much you want it.”

The orgasm hits hard, his name a cry on my lips. But he’s not done. Before I can catch my breath, he’s lifting me onto his table.

“Need to be inside you.” He fumbles with his jeans. “Now.”

“Yes.” I wrap my legs around his waist. “Please.”

He fills me in one hard thrust. The stretch burns perfectly and makes me gasp his name again.

“Fuck.” He stills, breathing hard. “You feel?—”

“Move.”

He does. Each thrust drives me higher and makes me forget everything but this. His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise, marking me like his ink.

“Mine,” he growls. Then, he corrects himself: “Ours.”

The thought of belonging to all of them sends me over again. Chase follows with a curse, his hips jerking against mine.

Afterward, he cleans me and carefully bandages the new tattoo. His touches are gentle now.

“Beautiful.” He traces the phoenix’s wing. “It suits you.”

I should feel guilty. Should worry about complications, about Rose’s warnings. Instead, I feel free.

“Thank you.” I touch his face. “For everything.”

His smile turns wicked. “Anytime.”

When I arrive home, I catch glimpses of lights in their windows. I wonder which brother is watching tonight. Find myself hoping it’s all of them.

Rose would call me crazy. Call this dangerous.

But as I slide into bed after another show, I can’t bring myself to care. Let danger come.

I’m done running from what I want.

11

RICK

Chase just leftafter his last client—a college kid who wanted his girlfriend’s name covered up. It was a rookie mistake. However, after seeing the phoenix Chase created to cover up Evie’s ex-husband’s name, maybe I shouldn’t judge. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it all day.

I’m about to leave for the day when I hear music coming from the office. Something slow and sad. We’ve been closed for twenty minutes, but Evie often stays late, catching up on paperwork.

Except this doesn’t sound like paperwork.

I find her sitting on the floor behind her desk, knees pulled to her chest. She doesn’t notice me at first.

“Evie?”

She startles, quickly wiping her eyes. “Rick! I thought you’d already left. I’m sorry, I was just—” Her voice cracks. “I’ll clean up. Go home.”

“Like hell.” I close the office door. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She laughs, but it sounds hollow. “Just having a moment. I’m fine.”

I slide down beside her. Close enough to touch, but not touching. “Yeah, you look real fine.”

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