Real.
Raw.
Ours.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE WIND WHIPPEDagainst my face as the motorcycleroared down the highway, the engine’s vibration thrumming through every part of me. I held on tight, my arms wrapped around Chain’s solid frame, my cheek pressed to his back. The world blurred into streaks of dark and light, the hum of speed drowning out every thought that tried to claw its way in.
Having sex with Chain had been something I wanted—needed—but until it happened, I hadn’t known how I’d react. I’d only ever known the ugly side of it. The pain. The punishment. The way it had been used to remind me of what I wasn’t allowed to want.
But with Chain, it was different.
I’d promised myself I’d live. That I wouldn’t keep hiding behind fear or what the past tried to carve into me.
And it was like he knew.
He hadn’t gone slow, hadn’t treated me like I was fragile. He’d been rough and strong and real. I didn’t want soft. I wanted to be taken, to feel wanted, to stop thinking and justbe.
It was everything I didn’t know I was starving for.
And it scared the hell out of me.
Because giving myself to a man—trusting him with that part of me—meant letting go of the control I’d fought so hard to keep. And yet, God help me, I wanted to give Chain everything.
I just didn’t know if I could survive it.
His hand slid down to my thigh as we turned onto the familiar road leading toward the clubhouse, his touch casual but grounding. My heart lifted a little, the corners of my mouth tugging up without permission. For once, the ache inside me wasn’t heavy.
Even with his rough edges, with the danger that came with the club, I knew Chain was good. The kind of good that didn’t need to be perfect. He’d never hurt me—at least not the way men had before. But I wasn’t naïve enough to think a man couldn’t break you in other ways.
We pulled up in front of the clubhouse, gravel crunching beneath the tires. I swung my leg off and steadied myself as Chain killed the engine. The sudden quiet made my ears ring.
He climbed off after me, boots hitting the ground, eyes finding mine beneath the low wash of the porch light. His voice dropped low—husky.
“Stay with me tonight.”
Simple words shouldn’t excite me, but a slow burn lit up in my chest, spreading outward like someone striking a match too close to my ribs.
I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But the pull between us terrified me more than anything. I was already too close, already tethered in ways I couldn’t explain.
“Let me take a shower first,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be, breath catching around the syllables.
Chain’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “I could take one with you.”
My pulse jumped. “Do people do that?”
“Yeah.” His breath brushed my ear, a quiet rasp. “They do.”
The heat that rolled through me had nothing to do with the humid South Carolina night. It pooled low, twisting sharp and sweet, igniting something I’d kept buried.
“Okay,” I said before I could talk myself out of it.
His fingers brushed mine as we started walking toward my room, not quite holding, not quite letting go. The air between us had changed—thicker now, charged. Every breath tasted like tension.
I told myself it was just another new experience—one more step in learning how to live. But deep down, I knew it was more than that. It washim. It wasme, unraveling.
The room felt smaller than usual when we stepped inside. The hum of the air conditioner couldn’t cut through the weight in the air. Chain closed the door behind us, and the sound of the lock clicking was louder than it should’ve been.
