Page 42 of My Reckless Biker

"I love you too," I say, and the words come out rough but they come out. "Never said that to anyone before. But I love you and I'm keeping you."

She kisses me again and this time there are tears on her cheeks and I taste salt.

Eventually she helps me out of the tactical gear. The vest comes off first. Then the shirt that's stiff with blood. She's gentle with the bruise forming on my ribs.

"Come to bed," she says.

We get under the covers and she curls against my side, head on my chest, hand over my heart. We don't have sex. Just lie there together.

I'm aware of her body pressed against mine, of her breathing, of the weight of her that's real and substantial.

"What happens now?" she asks quietly.

"Now we deal with your father. Figure out how to protect you and the club."

"And us?"

"Us is permanent."

She's quiet and then says, "For the first time I don't want to think three moves ahead. I just want to be here."

"Then just be here."

Her hand tightens over my heart and eventually she falls asleep like that.

I stay awake longer, feeling her weight, her breathing, and I think about Dutch's destroyed face and the satisfaction I felt and the fact that Sienna accepts what I did without asking me to be different.

The club has been enough for fourteen years. My whole world.

But now I need her too.

Need to see her face when I come back. Need to hear her voice. Need to feel her against me like this.

The club is still what I am.

But she's mine now too.

And I'm keeping both.

Tomorrow we deal with Crane. Tomorrow we figure out protection and strategy and what comes next.

Tonight she's here. Breathing. Safe.

That's enough.

I close my eyes and let myself sleep.

Chapter 8 — Sienna

I wake up to grey morning light coming through the window and Diesel's arm heavy across my waist, his hand splayed on my stomach.

He's still asleep, breathing deep and even against my hair, and I lie there feeling the weight of him, the warmth of him, the fact that he came back.

My father sent Dutch with a message and Diesel sent one back. Permanently.

I shift slightly and his arm tightens, pulling me closer even in sleep. I can feel the evidence of last night, the swelling on his jaw pressing against the back of my head, the way he's positioned his ribs, the split knuckles of the hand on my stomach.

He hurt someone badly last night. Beat a man until his face was unrecognizable.