Page 47 of Forever Zara

She’d loved him before she knew him, loved him every second since.

“Got you.” She gloated up at him, and he dropped his head, kissed her soundly until all she tasted was him.

“Yeah, you do.” He replied. “Let’s buy ice cream on the way home.” He added, and her insides flamed at the memory flickering through her mind.

The same dirty memory Rider wanted her to have.

She hoped they didn’t break their kitchen table this time.

Gia would see that she got Zara’s car back to her house. Zara wanted to be on the back of Rider’s motorcycle more than ever. He climbed on and helped her onto the seat, her arms instinctively twirling around his waist.

She had so many memories of being on the bike with him.

That first terrifying time when she clung tight, traumatized yet relieved. And all the times in between when they went for rides to be alone. Riding for the first time as his wife was going to be her favorite memory.

It might be cold and a little snowy, but she was swamped in Rider’s leather jacket he insisted she wore. Smiling the entire way home with her arms wrapped tightly around her heaven.

Rider would laugh if she shared that with him. He’d tell her he was far from heavenly.

Mine. She thought.

This one here is all mine.

“One wedding down. One to go.” She declared once they were home.

The house was quiet for now. Her parents had taken the kids out to eat. Rider caught her around the back of the neck until she bumped up against his chest.

“Kiss me, wife.” He gruffed, already taking her mouth fast. Wet, sweet, and hard. “And then, gonna fuck you and make this official,” he shared, fisting a hand into her hair, tipping her neck back where she could see the color of his eyes.

Her sweet biker-man, the love of her life, was turned on.

She thought he’d be on her the second the front door locked. Zara had wanted it, had braced for it with her stomach and heart tumbling crazily.

But this was better. Sweeter. As though he needed to be a softer man for her. She went up on her toes, kissed him gently until he growled, and bit her lip, made her open wider for his spearing tongue.

Ahhhh, there he is, she thought. Her deviant biker-man.

His grip hurt so lovely. His kiss swelled her lips, and his taste—oh his taste, became rushing sounds in her ears.

Two big hands mapped her hips, around her softened stomach and up between her breasts. “Mine,” he said, almost to himself.

“I’ve always been yours, biker-man.”

Sloppy, uncoordinated kisses followed.

She all but climbed him until he latched her legs around his lean waist, striding through the house, up the stairs, and didn’t stop until he bounced her on their bed.

“You surprised the fuck out of me today.” He said, crawling between her legs, dragging the cotton of her dress up until they exposed her briefs.

“I have to keep you on your toes too, baby.”

His laugh was rough. It was sex and promises, and it went straight to her erogenous zones.

Zara stared at him. The gathering of his bunched shoulders; he seemed bronze-dipped,muscles stark and firm on his torso, decorated in his ink. Damn. Oh damn. Tremors ran up her calves, shakyanticipation for what was to come, making her uncoordinated.

And then he lifted his head and looked up at her, and her mouth went dry.

Holding her gaze, he slid his hands purposefully up between her thighs where she was already wet for him. He made a low, pleased sound in his throat,pushed up to his knees, and put his mouth to her. The pleasure was like a speeding bullet rushing underneath her skin.

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