Page 74 of The Oath We Take

I swear I never saw a more handsome man. He’s less model features and more the perfect example of a hardworking rancher. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, and a gait that just exudes confidence. “It’s not?”

He throws the blanket down next to us. Atom shakes his head. “Nope. Making love in a meadow feels like something that should be a little more sacred than me verbalizing all the ways I want to desecrate this perfect body of yours. I feel like this marks the start of our perfect date. Don’t have any cheese, though. Will fix that for next time.”

“Smooth talker.”

“Is it going to get me into your pussy?” he asks with a grin.

“Most definitely.”

We wriggle our way onto the picnic blanket. I didn’t mind the grass. I’ve fallen asleep on the ground next to many a campfire. But it’s nice to have the softness under my skin.

Atom lies on his back. “Want you to ride me, Em. Come here.”

I don’t even consider rebelling. I climb aboard like my life depends on it.

Because in some ways it does.

Beneath all the words and sexual tension and affection, I’m still holding on to the idea that he’s going to change his mind. That he’ll tell me he can’t do this. That he can’t risk his position with the club. Or that it’s too complicated with the club on his land.

So maybe it’s that thought, or maybe it’s the post-orgasm crash, or maybe I’m suddenly overwhelmed, but when I begin to lower myself over the erect cock he holds in place, tears sting my eyes.

It takes several attempts to accept all of him. The feeling of fullness almost too much.

By the time I’ve seated myself, the first drip lands on his chest.

Atom looks up at the tree, at first, as if looking for rain, but then he realizes it’s me.

“Hey, Ember, stop.”

He tries to lift me off him, but I refuse. Gripping him with my knees and throwing my arms around his neck.

Atom wraps his arms around me and holds me so tight, I swear bones could snap. “Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

I shake my head. Not because I don’t want to tell him, but because I don’t know how to answer. And all I know is if I start to try and explain it, the tears will definitely fall.

“Babe, please.” His hand slips around the back of my neck and grips me firmly. “You’re scaring me. Tears and my cock shouldn’t be synonymous with one another.”

“I know you have me,” I manage to say, hoping he can read all the words in between.

I don’t know why, but I need to cry, and I want him to be the one to hold me while I ride this out.

I know I need to tell him, so I force myself to sit up. It should feel awkward, having a meltdown while riding Atom’s cock, something I’ve wanted all this time. But it doesn’t. Atom reaches for me and uses his thumb to brush the tears from beneath my eyes.

Concern is etched in every feature of his face. Narrowed eyes, wrinkles on his forehead, a bitten lip.

“I nearly died in a fire, Hudson. And I don’t want to live the rest of my life thinking you’re going to leave me.”

His shoulders relax. “Love, I fucked up all those years ago. I wasn’t enough of a man to fight for what I wanted. I wasn’t enough of a man to take accountability for my actions. In some ways, I probably wasn’t enough of a man for you. But this, you and me, especially here, now—not sure anything else I do in life will mean more than this. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I promise.”

He brushes the hair that has fallen forward off my face and studies me carefully. He must see my lack of certainty.

“Seeing that smoke,” he continues, shaking his head as if trying to clear the memory. “Fuck. It was a wakeup call. I didn’t care who knew or what would happen or whether I would still be an Outlaw. All that mattered was making sure you were safe. Shook me, too, when I saw all those flames licking the walls and the smoke making it so hard for me to breathe.”

His words ease the frayed parts of me. “That must have been frightening for you.”

He sits up and wraps his arms tightly around me. We’re as close as any two people can be. “I was terrified I was too late. Was almost sick at the thought I was going to open your bedroom door and find you were already dead.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

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