Page 70 of Atlas
Mine.
I pull out and turn her around to face the bike. She braces herself on the leather, backside high, waiting for me. I bend her over, line myself up, and before I thrust in, I murmur, “Taste yourself.”
She bites her lower lip, throwing a dark look over her shoulder. Then she lowers herself, tongue darting out as she licks her own wetness from the seat.
I growl, deep and guttural, and slam into her, gripping her hips, fucking her hard, claiming her all over again.
Rue
My legs are jelly, my body is humming, and my cheeks ache from smiling.
Atlas wraps me up in his arms, pulling me against his chest as we sit together on the bike, looking out over the glitteringskyline. It’s quiet now, except for the distant hum of city life and the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek.
His hand strokes slow circles on my bare thigh, and I melt into him.Safe. Completely undone and somehow more whole at the same time.
I love this version of me, brave, bike riding, daring and chasing pleasure like it’s something I’m owed. He brings out something in me without even trying.
“I’m not scared of the bike anymore,” I murmur, tilting my face up towards his.
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You shouldn’t be. You were made for it.”
I smile, eyes flicking to the skyline, the deep inky blue of night hugging the city lights, the hazy gold glow stretching towards forever. I wish I could bottle this moment and keep it.
Then his phone rings again.
The sound slices through the silence, and I feel him tense behind me. His arms don’t loosen, but they still. My gaze drops to the phone on the ground near the helmets, screen glowing.
Anita.
And five missed calls.
My stomach twists, not sharp, not painful, but enough to make my skin prickle. He doesn’t move to pick it up, but I can feel the way his body reacts. Like hewantsto.
He’s torn.
I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want to bethatgirl, the jealous one, the insecure one. She meant something to him, hell, I think she still does. And being jealous and pissed won’t change that.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly, trying to keep my voice even. “You can answer it.”
He doesn’t speak for a second. Just breathes, slow and heavy, like the weight of the moment’s shifted. Then he kisses my temple, lips lingering.
“She can wait,” he says finally.
But the way he says it, it’s like he’s restrained and holding something back.
I nod, forcing a small smile, but the warmth between us has shifted. It’s still there, flickering but edged now. Lined with questions I’m too afraid to ask.
He sits a little straighter. “We should head back,” he says gently, his eyes flicking to his mobile again.
“Right,” I say with a nod.
“Don’t do that,” he says quickly, almost pleading. His thumb brushes across my lower lip, slow and soft, his eyes locked on mine. “It’s nothing.”
A small, unsure smile tugs at my mouth. “Then why is she calling you?”
He shrugs. “Maybe she’s chasing something for the club.”
“Then why isn’t she calling Axel?”
