Page 102 of Xander

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If my man wanted to go thirty miles an hour in a forty-five, then I’d let him.

And the moment we pulled up in front of the old Victorian, I didn’t have time to take it in.

The changes I had quickly noticed.

He had the helmet off my head, and then he was lifting me, my legs wrapping around his waist as our mouths fused together.

And then, the moment we entered the house, my back was pressed to the shiplap, and our tongues danced to only a rhythm that two of us understood.

***

We both stripped out of our clothes as we moved to the master bedroom.

Leaving a line.

I didn’t take the time to take the house in.

I was focused on getting what I wanted.

And then... I saw it on his chest, I gasped.

Right over his heart is a beautiful myriad of artwork.

The tattoo artist incorporated the solar system, along with star gazer lilies and a name that had four letters.

My name.

Tattooed on his chest.

Tattooed right over his heart.

So, the whole world would know who it belonged to.

And in the next breath, I whispered, “I want something like this on my body.”

He winked, “Done.”

His tongue trailed from my neck, down to my breasts.

He teased one nipple, and then the other.

I rubbed my pussy against his abdomen.

Needing it.

Craving it.

I felt his smile against my breast.

His head moved as he trailed light kisses down my stomach, and then he moved even lower.

To my pussy that was aching with need.

“Haven’t had anyone else since you came to the clubhouse the first time,” he said as he pressed a kiss to the inside of my right thigh, then the other.

I ran my fingers over his scalp, loving that he kept it short.

The way the little hairs tickled my flesh was like a drug.

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