Page 37 of Piston

"Piston, please," she begged breathlessly. "I need you inside me."

He surged up her body, capturing her mouth in a carnal kiss, letting her taste herself. His painfully hard cock notched at her entrance. With one smooth thrust, he buried himself to the hilt in her tight, wet heat. They both cried out at the intensity, the rightness of their joining.

He started to move, long deep strokes that had her clutching at his shoulders and meeting him thrust for thrust. The world fell away until there was nothing but the two of them, their bodies moving as one, racing toward sweet oblivion.

"You're mine," Piston growled as he felt her starting to flutter around him. "My woman."

"Yes, yours," Jenny agreed with a sob of pleasure. "Only yours."

Their orgasms crashed over them simultaneously, wave after wave of blinding ecstasy. Piston spilled himself inside her as she milked him dry, branding her as his in the most primal way.

As they drifted back down, hearts pounding, he gathered her close and pressed a tender kiss to her damp forehead. Jenny snuggled into his side with a contented sigh. This wasn't just sex, Piston realized with startling clarity. It was love. He loved this woman, body and soul. And he would do anything to keep her, to make her his in every way.

Piston woke with a start, momentarily disoriented until he felt the warmth of Jenny's naked body curled against his side. Memories of last night flooded back - the mind-blowing sex, the soul-deep connection, the realization that he was head over heels in love with this woman.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, he brushed a strand of hair off her peaceful face. She looked like an angel lying there, his angel. And he knew right then he'd walk through fire to keep her safe, to make her happy.

He eased out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats before padding to the kitchen. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed, show her with actions since the words still stuck in his throat.

The bacon was sizzling and the coffee brewing when slender arms wrapped around him from behind. "Morning, handsome," Jenny murmured, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

Piston turned to face her, drinking in the sight of her sleep-rumpled and soft in his shirt. "Mornin', beautiful. I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed."

"This is better." She went up on tiptoe to brush her lips over his. "I'd rather be right here with you."

Something in his chest squeezed at her easy affection, her open delight in just being near him. He'd never had that before, never thought he deserved it. But damn if he wasn't going to try his hardest to earn it now.

"Jenny, about last night..." He took her hands, needing her to understand. "I'm all in, baby. You and me, I want to give this a real shot."

Her eyes searched his, a slow smile dawning. "I want that too, Piston. I'm crazy about you, in case you hadn't noticed."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Still can't quite believe it. But I'm gonna do my damndest to be the man you deserve. No more shutting you out or pushing you away."

"We'll figure it out together," she promised, winding her arms around his neck. "I'm not going anywhere."

As Piston held her close, breathing in her scent, he let himself believe it. Let himself imagine a future with this incredible woman by his side. It wasn't going to be easy, he knew that. He still had a metric shit-ton of baggage to unpack.

But for her, for a chance at real happiness, he was ready to try. Jenny was his light in the darkness, and come hell or highwater, he was going to fight for her, for them. The ride might get bumpy, but Piston had a feeling it would be worth every mile.

THIRTEEN

JENNY

I stareat my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. Has it really been a month since I moved into Piston's place? Feels like just yesterday I was slinging beer and wings at Jake’s, flirting with the bikers for better tips. Now here I am, shacking up with one of the Iron Reapers. How the hell did that happen?

I spit into the sink and rinse my mouth. Don't get me wrong, being with Piston is incredible. The sex, the intensity, the way he makes me feel...I've never experienced anything like it. But as much as I want to just lose myself in him completely, part of me is still holding back.

I wander out to the living room where Piston is cleaning his guns on the coffee table, cigarette dangling from his lips. Even doing mundane shit, he looks dangerously sexy.

"Hey baby," he greets me, his voice a low rumble. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah," I lie, plopping down on the couch. Truth is, I barely slept. Too busy worrying about...well, everything.

My eyes drift to the pile of cash stacked neatly next to the guns. I know the club is into some heavy stuff--protectionrackets, loan sharking, God knows what else. Part of me doesn't want to know. Piston never brings that shit home with him, but it's always there, hanging over us like a dark cloud.

I chew my lip, debating whether to say anything. Finally I just blurt it out. "Do you think I should quit my job at Murph's?"

Piston looks up, raising an eyebrow. "You thinking about that?"

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