Page 65 of Bullet

I don’t want to have to ask her to say it. I don’t want to beg her. But there it is. If she can’t take me as I am, then we can’t do this. A gutting pain creeps into my blood, poisoning my next few heartbeats. I kept telling myself this could never happen, but then there was hope. It’s a painful thing, thinking that I might not be enough, or not the right measure of exactly what she needs, no matter how hard I’d try to be just that.

She makes a soft noise in her throat and kisses my forehead like a benediction. I might be as rough a man as they come, but Ineedthat.

“I know what the club is. I’m going to be their lawyer. I’ve already made my decision. I don’t believe that their ideals can’t align with my own beliefs. I might not personally think that some things the club does is okay, but I’ve seen how they deal with their enemies. Legally, if possible, but mercifully, even when it’s undeserved.” There’s nothing in her face but tenderness. “I know you too. You’re a biker and a soldier on the outside, rough and hard, armored and impenetrable to the wrong person, but to the right ones, to the ones who call you their brother, to Willa, tome, you’re soft hearted.” She traces my bottom lip with her index finger, pushing down slightly. I want to suck her finger into my mouth before claiming her intoxicating lips. “Your hands aren’t just made for blood, or guns, or bikes. They’re made for books, for gentleness andtenderness. You’re a lovely bundle of contradictions, and that’s what makes you so remarkable.”

I’m about as flustered now as that moment I got caught masturbating. “I think everyone is a contradiction. People are complex.”

She nods. “That’s exactly why I know that we can do this. My complexities match yours. It’s been easy where it should have been impossible. I rarely give my trust to anyone, but you have it.” She tangles her fingers in my hair and rocks closer, slamming her chest up against mine. Her breasts mash against my jacket, but I can still feel how hard her nipples are under that thin tank. “Wherever we live, whatever you choose, I want this. I wantyou. I know who I am. Being with you will only shape me into someone I can be proud of.”

Her words warm cold, dark spots, emptying out others that have always needed to be filled. I don’t want to unleash myself like a beast, but I can’t stop myself from wrenching back, putting just enough space between us so I can work my hand up under her shirt. I wouldn’t say that it’s cold out, though the heat of summer has definitely passed, but my hands are definitely colder than her fiery skin.

She throws back her head, moaning to the night as I trace the underside of her breast. She arches her back with feline grace, pushing the pert orb into my huge hand. They’re rough and she’s like silk, but she doesn’t appear to have a problem with that.

“Fuck, yes,” she moans as I roll her nipple between my fingers and pinch lightly.

Her hand falls from my hair to grasp my shoulder. She digs her fingers into my leather jacket, making soft whimpers of pleasure as I palm her other breast. It’s not enough.

I lift her thin top and latch my mouth to her breast. She immediately slams a fist against her mouth and bites down, stifling a scream. I imagine what it would feel like if she did that while I was buried to the hilt inside her, her tight walls clenching around me.

She rocks in my lap, mewling like she’s thinking the same thing.

“Get me out of these jeans,” she whispers frantically, already attacking the button and unzipping them.

I flip her over, my hands bracing her so she doesn’t hit the ground hard, my obvious strength and the size of me against her sensual femininity enough to send me reeling. She stares up at me like she’s equally wonderstruck, which sends my heart to thundering.

I peel the tight jeans down her legs. Long and fine, shapely and so elegant. Every bit of her is utter perfection.

She sucks in a breath as my eyes land on her panties. A light gray, they’re dark all around her center, soaked with her arousal.

“I’m sorry I don’t own a single sexy pair. I should have just gone without, but jeans seem like they’d chafe, or like I’d accidentally zip a lip into them.”

Lord, only Lynette would say something like that. I throw back my head and laugh, trying not to really start roaring, but I can’t stop. “Zip a lip? My god.”

She laughs with me, but then blushes and slams her legs closed. “I know practicality isn’t sexy.”

I smooth one massive palm up her shin, to her knee. “Who says? I find your underwear incredibly hot.” I part her thighs gently, exposing her to me again. “Do you trust me? Do you trust me enough to taste you?”

“Out here? If you promise there’s no one around.”

“I would never, ever share you with anyone else. Your body is for you and you alone. You’ve given me the gift of your trust and your vulnerability. I promise, no one is out here. Just the corn and the stars.”

Her blush only deepens. “It’s hard to feel all of this, especially when I’ve spent so long not. If you really want to do this… you’d be the first.”

That information is like a rock bashed straight into my skull. “What?”

“I’ve never known any real intimacy. I hated it. I hated it so much. I knew it wasn’t supposed to be like that. I knew one day, if I ever found the right person, it wouldn’t be. But it’s just kind of new, you know? And embarrassing. Are you sure you really want to put your mouth there?”

“Yes! Yes, I’mverysure. I’m sure I’ll die if I don’t taste you. Just like that night it was either touch myself or die. I want to taste your sweetness; I want to eat you like a fucking animal that’s been unleashed. I want you screaming and arching, writhing and moaning, losing your mind and coming completely undone for me. I know how vulnerable you’ll feel, but you’re beautiful. Every inch of you is gorgeous.”

“You don’t know that! What if I taste bad?” She parts her legs though, a subtle invitation that meanseverything.

“That’s not possible. But if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll leave your panties on. I can taste you through them, lick your sweet cream straight off the drenched fabric.”

“Oh my god.” She reaches for me, curling her hands into my hair and dragging me between her spread legs, making room for my massive shoulders. “I don’t know if I should shove you away or bury your face in me. I shouldn’t, but I love those dirty words.”

“Just for you.”

“A gentleman on the streets, a freak in the corn field?”

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