Page 70 of One Night with the Biker

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” he murmured, unbuckling his belt and opening his fly. He shoved his jeans down slightly and his cock sprang free. Precum glistened on the tip, and I swiped my tongue over it.

“Ainsley,” he groaned.

Lifting my gaze to him, I wrapped my lips around his girth and took him into my mouth. Although I wanted to block out my experiences with Dayton, I drew from that knowledge, taking Reese as far down my throat as I could. When I gagged, he eased back, but didn’t rush me, allowing me to take my time. Slowly, I fell into a rhythm, dragging my tongue along the underside of his cock, licking the tip when he slid almost completely out of my mouth, and taking care with my teeth when he pushed back in.

His taste and scent aroused me. Humming low in my throat, I lost myself to his moans and the way his fingers tightened in my hair. Towards the end, he let loose.

“I’m about to come, baby,” he said in a strangled voice. He tried to pull away, but I sank my fingers into his tight ass cheeks. “Fuck!” he snarled, holding my head in place and fucking my mouth until he burst on my tongue and his knees buckled.

He plopped onto the sofa, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in hard pants.

“Did I do it right?”

Disbelieving laughter burst from him and he popped one eye open. “You did it perfect, sweetheart.”

I slapped my palm against my forehead. “I forgot to fondle your balls.”

Lifting his head, he threw me a dark look. “Whatever that motherfucker told you to do, throw it out the goddamn window.”

“You don’t like your nuts touched during oral?”

He growled and leaned forward, grabbing me by the waist and plopping me on the sofa. “I love it, Ainsley,” he said harshly, plundering my mouth with a sweeping kiss that stole my breath and almost made me forget my name.

I was so glad I wore a simple romper. He was an expert at seduction, removing the onesie and kissing me as if he couldn’t get enough.

Guiding me back onto the sofa, he didn’t move his lips away from me as he buried himself in me and I gasped. He felt so good, thick and heavy, sliding in and out of me, and grinding his pelvis against my pussy.

I hadn’t realized how much sucking him off would turn me on, but it did, and I was so hot and ready for him that I came quick, drawing another orgasm from him. We didn’t stay joined long after we finished.

“Don’t leave me,” I whined.

He stole another kiss. “I’m too heavy,” he said gruffly, bending and scooping me into his arms and carrying me to the bedroom.

When I awakened and found Reese gone two and a half months ago, I thought I’d never see him again. I didn’t expectthat I’d end up inextricably tied to him for at least the next eighteen years of my life.

Spending time with him in a secluded cabin never crossed my mind. It seemed so far out of reach as to be impossible. But however our relationship turned out, I’d cherish our moments together when it was just the two of us with no outside interference. He told me about the deaths of his family and I described the day my parents were killed.

It was a bond I preferred we didn’t have, but luckily trauma wasn’t the only thing we had in common. We talked more football, guns, cooking, music, and movies. We even broached religion and politics. I discovered he couldn’t sing worth a lick, just like me. We preferred beer over wine and tequila over rum. We both liked soft baked chocolate chip cookies, corn-on-the-cob, and apples over oranges. I finally told him what all the New Orleans terms meant and he said it gave him a new appreciation for the city. He liked arm wrestling to win bets and insisted on testing my strength. At the last minute, his arm slackened and he gave me the victory.

In between, we made love and he rewarded my cock suck by licking my pussy for an hour. We barely slept a wink.

As I mounted behind him on the back of his bike, I wished time could’ve stood still. The farther away we rode from the cabin and the closer we drew to Kansas City, the more my anxiety increased.

When we finally reached my house—Roman’s house—and Reese stopped next to my car, I laid my head on his back and tightened my hold around his waist. My eyes burned and my throat ached with my need to cry.

Reese killed the engine, wrapped one of his big hands around mine, and brought it to his lips for a kiss. I sniffled.

“Hey, babe, it’s okay,” he swore.

It wasn’t. Deep inside me, I felt the coming storm, like an unstoppable wave bringing death and destruction. He dismounted, then helped me off the bike. Taking my face between his hands, he studied me and thumbed away the tears that insisted on falling, then dipped his head and brushed his lips across mine.

Standing on my tiptoes, I hugged his strong neck, savoring the feel of his mouth. He took his time kissing me. Still, it ended all too soon.

“Come on, Ainsley. I’ll wait for you to change and get some things.”

Swiping at my tears, I shook my head. “I can’t let you inside. That would be like a slap in my brother’s face.”

“He isn’t my concern. You and the baby are. I’ll stay by the front door while you pack a suitcase.”

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