“And?” I knew where this was heading. Everyone with a clit liked riding a bike for more than one reason. Sure, it went fast and it was fun, but to have four hundred pounds of vibrating combustion between your legs did things that people with a penis could barely comprehend…or so I’d been told.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned in to kiss me. “Well, you’ll get no argument from me about going out with you again.”
“No, go on,” I said. “Explain it to me. Whatexactlydid you like the most?”
She scoffed and tried to pull away, but I yanked her back and switched our positions so she was the one leaning up against the bike, and I crowded her in.
“It feels…very nice.” She licked her lips and glanced away, but oh no, I didn’t permit her to be shy in front of me.
If she liked something, she needed to tell me. Those were the rules.
“Use your words, little wife,” I nearly growled.
She stayed coy, blushing harder.
“Oh, are you ashamed to admit you liked the way the engine roared against your pretty pussy?”
“Roman!” She shoved my shoulders, but I only laughed and leaned in more.
“If I put my hand down your pants, would I find out how much you liked it?”
She took a deep breath and glared at me, her jaw squaring up for a fight. But I didn’t let her. When she opened her mouth to say something undoubtedly mean and infuriating, I cut her off with my lips, snaking my tongue inside to steal whatever it was. She moaned against me, sagging into the contact.
And you know what, when I put my hand down her pants, I learned Julia Gianna Francesca Benita NataliMontgomeryhad liked riding on the back of my bike a whole fucking lot.
EPILOGUE
JULIA
FIVE AND A HALF YEARS LATER
If I thought I loved my husband wearing oily jeans and a stained white T-shirt, fresh from the garage, it was nothing compared to the way he looked with our children on his chest. Our daughter, Olivia, had just turned four and our son, Noah, would turn two next week. There could be no denying they were his. They’d both inherited his dark hair, the shade of his brown eyes, and the Montgomery face shape. Olivia looked more like V than she did like me, but I didn’t mind that so much. They were both Rose and Caputi. They were a symbol of peace and prosperity.
Roman worked tirelessly to be the best president of the SRMC that he could, and I stood by him as his faithful and loyal queen. Together, we maintained the peace we had so desperately fought for. And at the end of every night, after we came home from the clubhouse or he stopped turning wrenches at the garage, he spent his evenings entertaining all three of us. Then he stuffed his massive form into their tiny bed and read tothem until they fell asleep. The sounds of his deep baritone had stopped coming a few minutes ago, so I walked down the hallway to check on them and found him with a toddler under each arm, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in that steady rhythm that meant he’d also succumb to his subconscious.
I debated leaving him there. It wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell asleep in their bed only to wake up in the middle of the night with a stiff neck and shuffle down the hallway to our own room.
But I had other plans for my king. It had been six years of harmony between the Roses and the Caputis, six years of defending our territory as a unit rather than fighting with each other. In that time, we’d seen our fair share of obstacles—other MCs attempting to encroach on our land, dissenters from within struggling for power, and other players wanting a piece of what we’d gained. But with Leo at the helm of DC and the Roses steering the Madison County ship, we were far too powerful for anyone to topple.
“Amore,” I whispered, giving his leg a tender shake.
He opened his eyes and grinned when he saw it was me. “Mia cara.”
“Come,” I said, nodding toward the door. “It’s my turn to put you to bed.”
Roman stretched and smiled like a lazy lion, carefully extracting himself from our children before pushing to his feet. He wrapped an arm around my waist as I turned off the big light and closed the door, heading down the hallway to our bedroom.
Once inside, I checked that the baby monitor was still on before facing my husband. He sat on the edge of the bed, an eyebrow raised, that expectant look on his face.
I knew what he wanted, of course. I wanted the same thing. He’d been edging me for the better part of the day—stealing private moments when he could to shove his fingers between mylegs, sending me dirty texts that had me blushing and squirming wherever I was, finding me during his lunch break so he could shove his head under my skirt and suck me nearly to orgasm. Our play certainly wasn’t the same as it had been before the kids, but he never let me forget how much he adored me. And I returned the favor.
Six years ago, I’d never dreamed my life could be like this. I’d never thought I’d fall in love with anyone, much less enjoy this type of dynamic. I’d never thought I’d have children, and here I was with two of them that meant everything to me. Enjoying these things with Roman, knowing we would both protect it with our lives, healed the broken pieces inside of me, and I’d never be able to thank him enough for giving that to me. I’d spend the rest of my life trying.
BEAR
My queen was far tooeager to please me that night. After I fucked her damn near into a coma and checked that our children were still asleep, I lay with her tucked into my side, her head resting on my chest as she rubbed circles into my stomach.
“Leo is hosting a Christmas party at the mansion this year,” she said. “I’ve told him we’ll go.”