Page 28 of Her Outlaw Biker
I sit up slightly, cupping her face with both hands. “Hey. Look at me.”
She does, her eyes glassy and vulnerable and fierce all at once.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “I swear to you, Clover. I’m done with that life. No more jobs, no more running. No more near-death missions. I made it out. For good this time.”
She bites her lip. “But what if they come for you again?”
“They won’t. I burned the bridge clean. Anyone left standing knows better than to follow me.”
She brushes her thumb over my lips. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “I didn’t have a reason before. I was just drifting, doing what I was trained to do, living like a damn ghost while waitingto die.” My voice drops to a gravelly whisper. “But now I’ve got you. And I’ll be damned if I ever leave you wondering where I am or if I’m coming back.”
Her breath catches, and I pull her closer.
“I’ve got plans,” I murmur. “Real ones. There’s a patch of land waiting for us up in Montana, surrounded by trees and nothing else. I can build something there. A home. Solar panels, well water, satellite comms. Off-grid, safe, ours. I want that life with you, Clover.”
Her eyes glisten. “You mean it?”
“I’ve never meant anything more.”
She kisses me, soft and slow, like she’s tasting a future. And for the first time in years, it feels like I’ve got one. Her eyes search mine for a beat, her fingers curling lightly into my chest like she’s bracing for something deeper.
“I want more than just survival, Jack.” she says quietly.
My mouth drops open at the sound of that name I haven’t used in so long. Coming from her lips, it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. And it makes sense—I’m not a ghost anymore. Don’t want to be.
My grin gets bigger and bigger as she continues, “I want to live. Really live…with you. Not just hiding in cabins or fixing bikes in the middle of the night.” She hesitates, eyes shimmering with hope. “I want a future. A home. Maybe a porch swing. Kids that look like both of us. And…maybe a few cats.”
I blink. “Cats?”
She giggles, and the sound curls around my ribs like a damn tether. “Yes, cats. The scrappy ones no one else wants.”
“You don’t strike me as a cat person, Clover.”
“I’m full of surprises,” she says, nudging me with her foot. “Be serious.”
“I am.” I shift closer, tucking a golden strand of hair behind her ear. “You really see all that? With me?”
Her expression softens, all the fire and sweetness of her poured into a single look. “Yeah. I do.”
I take a deep breath and cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone.
“Then that’s what we’ll have,” I say, my voice low and fierce. “A porch swing, scrappy cats, and wild little kids with your sweetness and my bad attitude.”
She laughs through the tears that slip down her cheeks, and before she can say another word, I lean in and kiss her, deep and slow, like I’m sealing a promise with my mouth.
When I finally pull back, our foreheads rest together, our breaths tangled.
“I want it all too,” I murmur. “Every bit of it. A real life. With you.”
I feel her smile as she kisses me back, but the moment shifts. The kiss turns hungrier, her hands sliding up my chest, her thighs brushing mine beneath the covers. The tension in her body is not nervous, but electric, like she’s been holding back.
So have I. And now, I don’t want to hold back a goddamn thing.
I roll her beneath me, watching her eyes go wide as I settle between her legs. The sheet slips from her body, baring her to me completely. The sun rays filtering in from the slightly partedcurtains kiss every inch of her bare skin, flushed cheeks, parted lips.
Christ, she’s beautiful.
