“So, there are rules now. I don’t know if I’m cut out for fucking with rules.”
She leans over me again and smiles. “What in the world are you talking about. You’re nothing but rules. You’ve got one for every occasion.”
My soon-to-be old lady is not wrong about that shit. I create rules for everything because I learned early in life that rules made my life more predictable. I dip my head down to give her a sweet, lingering kiss. She opens her mouth, allowing me to swoop in and tangle tongues with her. In this moment, I’ve forgotten everything about why I thought this was a bad idea, and I’m all in.
When she begins to move, a kind of possessiveness forms in my mind that I’m not proud of. I love the way she came to me when she needed my strength, told me she loved me and made me see her as potential old lady material. Now that I’ve seen it, I can’t unsee it.
Looking up into her beautiful face while she rides my cock makes something harden in my newly shifted resolve. I’m taking her to me, making her my old lady and eventually my wife. I’ll love and cherish her, protect her and let her ride my big ugly cock all she wants. I’m nice that way, I think wryly.
My internal thoughts splinter when she finds her rhythm, giving me what only a woman can. I don’t know how long we move together but eventually her core tightens and she comes all over my cock screaming my name. She tries to ride it out, but her legs are shaking too badly for her to keep moving.
I roll over, careful to keep my weight off her and finish in a handful of strokes. When I fill her with my hot cum, she clenches down in one more orgasm, digging her nails into my chest. She just keeps telling me yes and saying to do it just like that. My chest swells with a kind of pride I’ve never known. Natalie is a hot, sweaty, sated mess beneath me, and I made her that way.
I move off her and drag her into a warm embrace, making her my little spoon. She cuddles up to my arm and drifts off into an exhausted sleep. Not me. I lay there thinking of all the fights I’m gonna have to fight to keep her. It doesn’t matter who or for how long. I’ll fight the whole world to keep what she offered me tonight. If it comes to it, I vow to burn it all down and remake it into a world where we can be together without shame and judgment.
Chapter 11
Natalie
I wake up the next morning to find Bear gone. Running my hand over his side of the bed, I find it’s cold. For a few seconds, I lie still and listen, waiting for a sound I can recognize. Boots on walking across the floor, him turning on the shower and whispering about club business on his cell phone. Anything that tells me last night wasn’t a magical dream born of need and desire. All I hear is the sound of motorcycles firing up outside. Maybe one is even his.
When I roll over to grab the burner cell phone Siege gave me from the nightstand, the delicious ache between my legs tells me last night happened. I open my email and read the progress update from the hospital. I read it twice. The nurse says he’s holding stable, and they might be able to get him off the ventilator. She tells me I can come and visit this afternoon. Setting the phone aside, I lay back against my pillow. I’m in no hurry to get up because I think Bear left for work without me.
I feel crazy for wishing he’d woken me up before he left. He’s got a business to worry about, all on his own now that my brother can’t do his share. Of course he can’t waste time babying me and making me feel special.
I stare at the ceiling and think about last night. Being with him was amazing. He’s warm, attentive, extremely attractive. I know why they gave him the club name Bear. He reminds me of a big, snuggly teddy bear.
It’s cute how he tried to turn me down, right up until he ran out of dumbass excuses. He’s still not over the idea that he’s too big for me. I can tell because he put me on top and let me take him as I was able. If I’m being honest, I’ve never worked so hard for anything in my entire life. But it was so worth the slow burn that taking all of him entailed, because it made me feel like he was all mine.
Even though all that happened last night and I fell asleep in his arms, I realize that I don’t really know where I stand with him this morning. I remind myself that he didn’t actually promise anything. He was all jokes, jokes designed to cover his need for me.
Still staring at the ceiling, I try to decide if this is what a one-night stand feels like. I feel a little emptiness when I think of how easy it was for him to walk out the door this morning. I know this is the point I’m supposed to buck up and pretend I’m fine because I technically got what I wanted, which was one amazing night with the man of my dreams. That’s more than I ever hoped for to be sure.
I sit up and pull the sheet up around my naked body. I don’t want to start spiraling but I can’t help it. Maybe he didn’t really want me. Maybe he only gave in because I was standing there half naked trying to talk him into it.
I know he was tired. Rick was in the hospital. Maybe he just wanted something to take his mind off it all. That’s how bikers operate, right? They use club girls to blow off steam. Maybe the whole thing was a gigantic lapse of judgment on his part, and now he regrets it. The thought of that hurts more than I thought it would.
Then suddenly the bedroom door flies open hard enough to hit the wall. Bear strolls in like he owns the place. He has a tray balanced in one hand, a paper bag tucked under his arm, and he’s all smiles. In fact, his smile is smug and self-satisfied.
“You awake, Sleeping Beauty?” he asks, although I’m sitting up in bed and looking right at him.
“I am,” I manage, relieved beyond belief that he didn’t leave me behind.
He kicks the door behind him with one booted foot and walks towards the bed. The tray holds two plates of food, coffee, and what looks like cinnamon rolls. He sets it down carefully and takes up a seat on the bed, careful not to disturb the tray.
My chest feels tight. “I woke up and you were gone,” I tell him, trying not to sound as weak and pathetic as I feel.
He shoots me a tender look. “Don’t worry, I didn’t run out on you. I went downstairs to get you some breakfast.”
I pick up a piece of bacon and bring it to my mouth. Right before I take a bite, I tell him, “I’m starving, so that was a good call.”
He picks up the coffee and holds it out. “Drink.”
This situation feels like he genuinely wants to take care of me and wasn’t that exactly what I was longing for earlier?
I take it with my free hand and bring it to my lips, letting the warmth slide down my throat. “The prospects make a good breakfast; I’ll give them that much. Did you cook when you were a prospect?”
“Of course,” he says. “Feeding the club brothers is a core responsibility for prospects.”
