Page 123 of One Night with the Biker
“What was that about?”
Reese shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he said, though I suspected otherwise.
He navigated me to the living room couch. Once he sat down, he gripped my waist and pulled me onto his lap. I gasped and giggled at the bold move.
“The moment my brother leaves, you pounce,” I joke, relaxing against him.
“Can you blame me?” he quipped, settling his hands on my hips as I straddled him.
I had nothing inappropriate in mind, besides looking into his gorgeous eyes. Although, I’d be a lying heifer if I said the feel of his dick twitching to life didn’t send heat rushing through me.
“Did you mean what you said?” he questioned, caressing my sides, his gentle touch sending a shiver down my spine. “When you said you loved me?”
I nodded, leaning forward to nuzzle my nose against his. “Every word. Didyoumean it?”
“Yes,” he said without a moment of hesitation. “When the assholes took you, I was out of my fucking mind with worry, and so much regret, I could hardly breathe. I’ve been a bastard to you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up.”
I wondered if I was dreaming, because the declaration sounded absolutely perfect—almost too good to be true.
Without a second thought, I kissed him. He groaned, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me closer. I took the opportunity to ease my tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss and worsening my growing arousal. Only when his hand grabbed my ass did I remember Roman’s presence, and as much as it pained me, I pulled away panting.
“We’re going for a ride later,” I decided, needing to be truly alone with him to show exactly what he did to me and how much he meant to me.
“Any destination in mind?”
“Somewhere with a bed.”
He chuckled, though his eyes darkened at my brazen words. “That can be arranged.”
We fell silent, basking in each other’s presence, savoring the closeness. Reese spoke first.
“I don’t have a ring right now, and don’t know when I’d get one, so this isn’t a proposal,” he said, the clarification making myeyebrows raise. “But I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to make you my wife, Ainsley. I want our child to have my name, and I want my ring on your finger and a cut on your back, showing every motherfucker around that you’re mine.”
The thought of wearing a ‘Property of Reese,’ cut made me swoon. Not only would it show others I’m taken, but it’d be an official claim, a tangible sign of who I belonged to.
“I want that, too,” I breathed.
“Then you’ll have it,” he swore, the adoration in his eyes making me feel like the luckiest woman alive. “I’ll give you the moon, the stars, and anything else you want.”
“I never took you for a poet, Reese Sinclair,” I mused, threading my hands through his hair.
“You bring it out of me, baby.”
“Well, I can’t say I hate it,” I replied with a giggle, leaning down and kissing him again.
It was brief and chaste but still left me swooning.
In that moment, all the pain and chaos of the last several months faded, as did the thoughts of the torment I endured during my kidnapping. The tears, the fear, the sadness, the anger —none of it mattered because it’d led me and Reese to where we were: in love and planning a future together. My one night with the biker flipped my world on its head, and despite the ensuing madness, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
