Page 122 of Rider Daddies
What if I never got the chance to tell them how I feel?
For taking me in and making these past few weeks the best ever, don’t I at least owe them the truth?
I purse my lips. “I have a confession too.”
Saint pops the cigarette back into his mouth, a wolfish smile forming. “Do tell.”
“I don’t want to stay here just because of the UV. Tanning is a bonus, but it isn’t why I want to call this place home.” I pause. “And if I wanted to run away from the law, I’d do it in plain sight. It’s satisfying to pull the wool over the cops’ eyes. Surprisingly easy too.” I take a breath. “There’s only one reason I want to stay here, and it’s because of you.” I register each brother. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m falling in love with you. It’s the only diagnosis I can think of that makes sense.”
“Diagnosis,” snorts Ryder. “Well, I hope there’s no cure.”
A silence extends between us all.
Since my return, something has changed about Ryder, Ash, and Saint. They’re no longer pushing each other out of the way, fighting for my attention like before. They’re simplybeing.Silently registering each other, but not kicking up a fuss over who likes me more, who’s the most deserving.
At the end of the day, they lost their parents all the same.
They each deserve the same chance at happiness.
“We should throw a party,” proposes Ash, breaking the silence.
“A party?” Ryder frowns. “It’s not the start of a new month yet.”
“No.” Ash chooses his next words carefully. “But itcouldbe the start of a new chapter. Besides, I think we all need to let off some steam. Celebrate life with a few beers.”
“A few?” Saint laughs. “Yeah right.”
“I’m in,” I say. “As long as you promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“To all share my bed tonight.”
When your men have good hearts and even better bodies, it’s hard to look at them and not undress. Every time Ash brushes past me at the bar, my panties get just that little bit more soaked. I’m at the point of burning up.
I clench my thighs together as I serve drinks.
“You’re flustered, darling,” Ash whispers in my ear as he passes me.
My hold on the glass weakens. God, they whisperonesingle word in my ear and I feel like getting on my knees, begging for them to take me.
I ignore the urge and press my thighs even tighter together so I can get through this serve.
But Ash makes the task near impossible when he stands behind me, pretending to grab a glass. That’s what it looks like to the people who arenotbehind the bar.
What he’s actually doing is sneaking a finger in between my legs, sliding under my denim shorts and my panties to caress my bundle of nerves.
He locates it straight away.
I let out a little whimper. Conscious that the biker is still waiting on his drink, I elongate my spine and try to ignore Ash’s finger at my clit.
But on this occasion, ignoranceisn’tbliss.
He inserts a finger inside.
“Fuck.”
The biker looks at me strangely, noting my hand. It’s shaking, the beer going everywhere. I tug on the tap, desperate to fill the drink so I can see him off and actually do something about the problem between my legs.
