He walks me backward until my shoulders hit the wall, our bodies pressed tight from chest to thigh.One of his hands braces against the wall beside my head while the other grips my hip, his thumb finding the sliver of skin where my shirt has ridden up.The contact of his rough finger against my bare skin draws a sound from my throat I barely recognize.
When we break apart for air, he rests his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard.I can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against mine, the synchronicity of our racing hearts.
“Do you have any idea,” he rasps, his voice strained with restraint, “how many times I’ve dreamed about having you like this?”
I slide my hands up to frame his face, my thumbs tracing the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the slight stubble on his jaw rough against my palms.“Tell me.”
His eyes darken further, something raw and honest flashing in their depths.“First time was sophomore year.You stood up to those seniors hassling the freshman girls.Told them to back off or you’d make them regret it.”His finger brushes across my lower lip, sending sparks of sensation straight to my core.“You were so fierce.So goddamn beautiful.I went home and couldn’t get you out of my head for weeks.”
My chest tightens at his words, at the realization that he saw me, truly saw me, all those years ago when I thought I was invisible to someone like him.
“What else?”I whisper, needing to hear more, needing to understand how long I’ve been living in his thoughts.
In one smooth motion, he lifts me slightly, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs as my feet leave the floor.He adjusts me so our eyes align perfectly, my back still pressed against the wall.The display of strength sends a thrill through me.
“Junior year.You tutored my cousin in biology, spent hours explaining cellular respiration until she finally got it.”He leans in, his lips brushing mine with a reverence that makes my chest ache.“I sat outside the library in my car, watching you, thinking about how your hands moved when you talked.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, arms looping around his neck to steady myself.He inhales sharply at the contact, his fingers flexing against my thighs.
“And after graduation?”I prompt, my voice husky with need.
“Harder then,” he admits, shifting his weight to carry me away from the wall.He moves with surprising grace for such a powerful man, crossing the small living room toward the couch.“You went to college; I joined the club.”
He lays me down gently, propping himself on one elbow beside me, his body half covering mine.“But I still found ways to check on you.Drove past your dorm some nights.Asked around how you were doing.”
Instead of feeling disturbed by this admission, warmth floods my chest.All those years I thought I was alone, navigating the world by myself, someone had been watching over me, caring from a distance.
“And more recently?”I reach up to free his hair from its knot, watching as dark strands fall around his face, softening the hard edges of his features.
“The bar,” he says, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest through my t-shirt.“Every time you came in after a shift, exhausted but perfect, I’d sit in the corner, nursing one drink all night, just to be in the same room.”
I draw him down for another kiss, slower this time, deeper, an exploration rather than a claim.His weight settles more fully against me, the solid warmth of him grounding me as our tongues slide together.When we break apart, my lips feel swollen, my body humming with a need I’ve never experienced before.
“I thought about approaching you so many times,” I confess, running my fingers through his hair.“But you always seemed… untouchable.Dangerous.”
Regret flickers across his face, his brow furrowing slightly.“I am dangerous, X.My life isn’t safe.The club, the things I’ve done…” His hand stills on my chest, directly over my heart.“You should know what you’re getting into.”
I cover his hand with mine, pressing it firmly against my heart so he can feel its steady beat.“I’m not naive.I’ve lived here my whole life.I know about the Devil Souls.I grew up here at the clubhouse with my uncle.Not as much as an MC kid, but I was here.”
“Knowing and being involved are different things,” he says, his expression serious.“People I care about become targets.”
“Is that why you kept your distance?”I ask softly, the pieces finally clicking into place.“To protect me?”
He nods, his eyes never leaving mine.“Partly.And partly because I didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me once you knew the truth.”
The vulnerability in his admission makes my chest ache.I cup his face between my hands, making sure he can’t look away.“I’ve wanted you since I was seventeen,” I say firmly.“Nothing you tell me will change that.”
A fierce, possessive glint lights his eyes.He dips his head, capturing my mouth in a kiss that’s all heat and promise.I arch into it, my need answering his with equal intensity, my hands sliding beneath his shirt to feel the warm skin of his back.
His hand slips under my t-shirt, palm flat against my stomach, exploring with a reverence that makes my breath catch.His fingers trace the ridges of my ribs, the dip of my navel, learning every contour as if he’s mapping territory he plans to claim thoroughly.
“I’ve imagined this,” he says against my throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin.“Hearing the sounds you’d make.”His thumb brushes across my nipple, drawing a soft gasp from me that seems to please him.
My own hands become bolder, slipping farther beneath his Henley to feel the warmth of his skin, and I come across the faint ridge of what feels like a scar running along his side.When my fingers reach his waistband, he catches my wrist in a gentle but firm grip.
“Not tonight,” he says, his voice rough with restraint.“Not like this.”
I blink up at him, need and confusion warring in my mind.“Why not?”
