Page 133 of Dirty Salvation

She trusts him, there's no man alive that she trusts more. He's the storm she wants to ride, the rain she craves to soak in. With his kiss, her self-preservation walls are crumbling brick by brick until she sees shards of light breaking through the darkness.

He owns her heart already.

That deep down to her soul feeling knowing there will never be anyone else.

JustRider.

Moving languidly like he was made of entirely of water, he dropped a kiss on Zara's neck. Muscles rippled in his shoulders, stretched down his torso elongating it until dizziness swam, her eyes tracking every shift of his gorgeous hard toned body. She knew how he kept himself in shape, watched him at the club lifting weights, using the leg machine, pounding the treadmill. She mentally thanked each one of those machines for producing the man she was constantly salivating over, seriously, her addiction went deep for his body appreciation, her tongue practically lolling out even though she'd been had by him so hard in the last hour she was partially blind from the orgasms, she still admired him with a pervert’s vision.

Obsessedwith his body.

He had no hang-ups about walking around naked, unlike Zara who discreetly reached down to the floor to pick up her shirt, slipping it over her head with quickness followed by her panties.

"How did it go today?" Having never pushed her for details but always made a point to ask about her sessions she smiled, shifting by him to move down the hallway and into the kitchen, he followed and yanked open the fridge, she couldn’t help the palm she lay briefly on the center of his back while he was drinking directly from the orange juice carton.

"Same old. I'm not cured yet, according to Cathy that's progress. I did grab a red lollipop from the waiting room. I think they're just on the receptionist's desk for kids, but I'm more screwed up than them so I reckoned I deserved a sucker."

A smile began at one edge of his mouth as he wiped it with the back of his hand, tossing the carton back into the fridge, he leaned his shoulder up against like it a model.

Butt-ass naked.

His eyes were trained on her, hooded lids. Hot as hell.

"All silver linings, baby. You need a hand with that?" he jutted a look to the pot she was stirring, with any luck saving the red sauce, if not they were eating grilled cheese tonight.

Melted gooey cheese could never be wrong.

"No, it's good." Zara was no Paula Deen even if she did worship the taste of real churned butter, but she loved cooking.

"In that case, I'ma grab a shower, my old lady got me good and wet and sweaty."

Amused eyes lifted to him.

"Maybe if you weren't such a dirty biker man she wouldn't get you sweaty, did you consider that, Rider?"

Flirting with her man while she stirred a pot of garlic and herb red sauce (from a jar…but she'd added her own oregano!)

Yep, she wanted to hold on tight to feeling, to wrap it in her heart and never let go.

It was normal and lovely.

She ached to have normal.

That sensation you get down in your bones when you can feel the ocean nearby. It rushes over you so slowly, touching your bones with anticipation of seeing that great vast water. That was how Rider made Zara feel. It was nothing gentle. But everything normal. She became engulfed in sensation when he was around, wanting to drown in him until her lungs filled and she was fully submerged in what he offered to her.

Smiling shyly over at him, even as he was prowling the length of the kitchen looking more predator than man, tanned from head to foot, his hair loose around his wide shoulders and that glorious sex between his legs, soft now, arousing to sweep her eyes over.

Her mouth dried.

Zara waited for him to kiss her, knew it was coming and lifted her face to taste him.

“I’ll never refuse my old lady when she has a hand down the front of her pants rubbing her screams out for me, Icy. You should know that, even if I have to sweat in the process, whatever it takes to get the job done.” his grin was terribly wicked.

The bad biker man making her turn vivid red. She laughed, nipped his jaw. "Go and shower, dinner won't be long."

When he left, Zara hummed, luxuriating in the pleasure still dancing on the ends of her nerves, replaying the gorgeous and just how tenderly Rider treated her even when he was being rough and demanding. The sounds he made, god in heaven…nothing sexier, the commanding way he took charge and gave her exactly the number of orgasms he deemed his old lady needed. It was exquisite.

And it was theirs.

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