Page 117 of Boulder's Weight

"Absolutely fuckin’ not," I say immediately. "That's exactly what Benji would want."

"I know how to read Craig," she argues. "I'd know if he was lying."

"And if it's a setup? If Benji's waiting?" I stand, catching her by the shoulders. "I'm not riskin’ you, Montana. End of discussion."

Her eyes flash with anger and fear. "So you'll risk yourself instead? That's supposed to make me feel better?"

I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to focus on me. "I'll be careful. We'll meet in public. Razor and Brick will be covering me the whole time. This is what I do, Kelsey. This is club business."

She stares up at me, conflict clear in her expression. "Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise," I say without hesitation, though we both know it isn’t something I can control. "You think I'd miss out on more of this?" I gesture between us with a cocky smile, trying to lighten the moment.

It works, drawing a reluctant laugh from her. "You're impossible."

"But you like it," I tease, pulling her against me.

"God help me, I do," she murmurs, her hands sliding around my waist.

I kiss her then, pouring everything I can't say aloud into it. The taste of her is intoxicating, a dangerous addiction I've stopped fighting.

Her body responds instantly, molding against mine as if designed specifically for that purpose.

My hands find the hem of her shirt, slipping beneath to touch warm skin.

She gasps against my mouth as my fingers trace up her spine, unhooking her bra like the professional I am.

Breaking the kiss just long enough to pull her shirt over her head, I back her toward the bed.

We don't have much time before I need to leave, but I need this connection, this reminder of what I'm fighting to protect.

"Boulder," she breathes as I lower her to the mattress, following her down.

My hands and mouth explore her body with hunger, memorizing every curve, every sound she makes.

There's an urgency to my touch that wasn't there before, a desperation born from knowing how dangerous our fucking lives are.

When I slide into her, the feeling is overwhelming—like coming home, like finding a missing piece of myself.

Her legs wrap around my waist, taking me deeper, her eyes locked with mine in a connection that transcends the physical.

"Kelsey," I groan, her name like a prayer on my lips.

For once, I don't try to have all of the control, to keep my distance emotionally.

I let her see everything—the vulnerability, the fear, the overwhelming need I have for her.

As we move together, building toward release, I feel barriers I've maintained my entire life crumbling to dust.

When she comes, clenching around me, my name a broken cry on her lips, I follow immediately, burying my face in her neck as pleasure crashes through me.

We lay tangled together afterward, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing patterns on her skin.

The clock on the wall reminds me I need to leave soon, but I don’t want to break this moment of peace.

"That felt different," she says softly, echoing my thoughts.

I press a kiss to her forehead, unable to deny it. "Yeah. It was."

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