Page 11 of The Biker's Savage Desire

“Really, ‘cause you look pretty relaxed in my arms.”

Fuck. My cock twitches at the softness of the moment, except this time, my heart swells too. She said she wanted one night. One crazy night to feel wanted. Not a clingy madman who’s suddenly craving her heart over her pussy.

Fuck!

“You ever wish you had a family?” Her voice is soft, nearly a whisper.

“Would it be weird if I said yes?”

“No. I think you’d make a great husband and father. You seem like you’d be really protective.” The tips of her fingers weave through the hair on my chest as she talks.

“You?”

“I want a big family. Two, maybe three kids, and a little house somewhere. Nothing crazy, just simple.”

I stare at the ceiling for a second, trying to breathe through the sudden weight in my ribs. “That sounds perfect.”

“I always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom while having a little side business that the kids could help with.”

“Yeah, like what?”

She shifts a little, her head resting against my shoulder, her fingers lazily sliding across my chest like she's drawing roots beneath my skin.

“I don’t know… maybe making candles or soaps,” she says with a small shrug. “Something creative. Something the kids could get messy with and still feel proud of. Maybe I’d even sell them at a little farmers’ market every Saturday.”

I chuckle. “You picture ‘em in matching aprons or what?”

She laughs. “Obviously. Tiny ones, with their names stitched on them.”

Damn, this moment… feels likehome.

I need to shake it off. I need to stop holding her. I need to climb up out of this bed and will the rain to stop. I need to drive her back to town and let this night end.

Instead, I tuck her in closer to my chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I breathe in the sweet scent that lingers on her skin even after the shower. I kiss the top of her head like she’s mine, like I don’t know how the world goes on without tiny fucking aprons and homemade candles.

A beat of silence. The kind that says everything words would ruin.

“I’m scared,” she whispers.

I nod. “Me too.”

We sit in silence as neither of us moves away.

Chapter Five

Mae

The morning feels unreal. Too soft and too still, like the kind of peace people write about but rarely live. The birdsong is gentle, drifting in like it’s trying not to disturb us, and I stay perfectly still, tracing lazy circles against the warm rise and fall of Grumpelstiltskin’s chest, though he’s not nearly as grumpy as he was when I met him twenty-four hours ago.

How has it only been twenty-four hours? It’s like we’re in some kind of worm hole or time machine. It’s like the universe has slowed time and given us this storm to show us what real love should’ve felt like all along.

Listen to me…love.I need to get a grip.

His hair’s course beneath my fingertips, and the rhythm of his breathing anchors me. For the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t wake up to a jolt in my chest or a list of things I’ve failed to fix. Just this moment… the weight of his arm around me, the golden light melting through the curtains, and the quiet.

I know I should get up. I should think. I should assess what this night meant and what it didn’t. But instead, I press my cheek a little closer to his skin and close my eyes again, just for a second.

I’m not ready for the world yet. Not when this moment still feels untouched by it, though I’m not sure I ever will feel readyfor the world again. Not after a night like last night. I’ve never felt anything more genuine in my life.

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