Page 69 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

The Sinclair twins and their wives arrive dressed in Keyshawn’s requested “baby blue” theme. I don’t know what the difference is between baby blue and light blue, but I quickly learn that it’s not an argument I want to start. I just care that Keyshawn is happy.

She looks beautiful holding our son. I’ll hold the memory of her standing there in that white dress holding our baby for the rest of my life. I don’t need pictures to have it burned on my brain. My cousin, Tanner, holds our son while I kiss the bride after the exchange of vows. Her lips are soft. Perfect…

And now,they’re mine forever.

When our brief ceremony ends,Keyshawn and I sit on the bench Ruger built next to the pond he installed on his land for Zayna. It’s beautiful out here, with sun streaking across the dark green water. John Henry is a lot more calm when he’s outdoors. His skin is much lighter than I expected, although Keyshawn thinks he’ll get darker when he grows up.

His hair is already so thick, and a light brown color with a bit of a frizz to it. I can’t believe this boy is mine… I always expected my kids would have red hair just like me, but it’s probably better for him that he won’t have that to get teased about. Especially since he has my nose and ears…

I can already tell he’ll have Keyshawn’s eyes. Her big, beautiful dark brown eyes. I put my arm over her shoulder as we watch the sunset together.

“I love you, baby,” I whisper. “I never want this to end.”

“It won’t,” she whispers back. “This type of love can’t ever really end.”

“What about when we die?”

Keyshawn laughs. “Stop ruining the moment, Deacon. Just watch the water and appreciate this…”

She kisses the top of John Henry’s forehead. I pull them in tighter. She’s right. The only way I can stop this moment from ever really ending is to immerse myself in it completely and commit it to memory. A fish breaks the top of the pond water and plops back in, making John Henry jump a little bit from the noise.

Before I know it,I’ll be taking him out on his first fishing trip and his first bike ride. It’s a scary thought, but it feels like the greatest honor in the world to have this little boy and this woman to share a life with.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Keyshawn

Months later…

Deacon isn’t in bed when I wake up, but there’s a card in a red envelope on his pillow. I yawn and lazily pry open the envelope. It’s so early in the morning, I don’t know how he had time to do all of this.

We haven’t had sex in months and I don’t care how much he tries to kiss up to me with flowers and chocolate. Just because I’m a mother doesn’t mean I stopped having needs. If anything, I miss sex. The thought of sex makes me feel like it’s something the “old me” did, and I need to feel like the “old me” sometimes to cope with the massive change in our lives.

Deacon has me intrigued because when I pry open the envelope, I don’t find yet another gift card to a designer store. It’s a handwritten note. In cursive. I honestly didn’t know this man could write cursive. I flip the paper open and my brain has to slow down to understand every curly word.

My dearest wife,

I humbly request your company for the grand opening of our new sound-proof playroom. Since our dearest son has finally started to sleep through the night, I can think of no better way or occasion to celebrate. Please present yourself fully naked at the foot of the bed on your knees by 8:30 p.m. sharp.

I miss your lips.

Forever yours,

Deacon Hollingsworth

This dramatic assman actually signed his last name. I can’t even mentally push him away for that because I have been downright desperate for this for way too long. Just the mention of the playroom gets me wet. The schedule works perfectly for my plans to get John Henry down for a few hours and I’ll have plenty of time to shower and prepare myself.

Hey, it’s not like I need to pick an outfit.

I just needto kneel and turn my brain off.

My ass tingles instinctivelyat the thought of Deacon inflicting fresh new torture on me. We discussedthis several times in the past. His needs haven’t changed because I gave birth to a baby. Our mutual need for intensity remains. I can’t believe I’m in a situation where I genuinely miss the fucked up way Deacon treats me in his playroom but… it’s just the truth.

The pain he causes isn’t regular pain. It’s transformative. Special. And pushing my limits in our playroom gives me this sense of ease and freedom I can’t get anywhere else. It’s so fucking relieving to just turn my mind off with a big, sexy man that I can actually trust to give me pain and pleasure without pushing it way too far.

Deacon’s handwritten note works perfectly to build my excitement for the day. Not like I don’t enjoy feeding every two hours and changing out one vomit soaked shirt for another on roughly the same schedule. That weird cycle is oddly fulfilling, but I’m still over the damn moon about our first time together since the baby.

It’s one of those weird days where you get nothing done and before you know it, you have to jump in the shower and go somewhere. In my case, “somewhere” just means kneeling at the foot of my bed without a stitch of clothing on. I’m so excited to meet Deacon like this that I get in the shower forty-five minutes early and scrub every inch of my body so clean that my skin is raw.

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