She couldn’t hold back her scream when she felt his cock begin to jerk in her ass, and she fell back against his chest, panting as she came hard enough for her mind to go dark.
“Bliss, are you all right? Bliss?”
“Did I make it five minutes?”
“You actually lasted eight. I was enjoying myself.”
“That wasn’t fair.” Her head fell back on his shoulder.
“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy you a bigger ring.”
She slid her hand down his thigh. She loved touching him.
His hand curled around her stomach, easing the muscles still quivering. He liked to pet her as much as she did him.
Sex with the Devil’s Rejects had never been given freely. Sex with The Last Riders had been to tie them to her. Sex with Drake was what it was supposed to be—two people learning to make the other happy and feel good, bonding together to make it something more than sex. That was why the name for it was different. It was called making love.
That was also why, no matter what dangerous situations she had been in during her lifetime, she was never more afraid than she was right then. If she lost Drake like she had lost The Last Riders, she would never recover. That was the way the men felt about their wives, what she had tried to come between.
“What’s wrong?” Drake broke through her thoughts.
“I’m a terrible person.”
“You’re a wonderful person.”
“No, I’m not. If a woman tried to break us up, I would scratch her eyes out. I tried to cause trouble with the wives of the club, and I wouldn’t have cared if I had broken them up.” Bliss covered her face with her hands, too ashamed to let Drake look at her.
“You were trying to hold on to the safety in your life the only way you knew how. You didn’t trust them to want to protect you because they cared about you. You didn’t trust in the club itself. You gave them your loyalty, but you held back your trust, just like with me. You can give me your body a million times, but if you don’t give me your trust, you’re not giving me you. I can wait for you to learn that I can keep you safe.”
“You more than proved that with Stark. The Last Riders couldn’t have done better.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Why aren’t you jealous of them?” she asked, knowing most men would resent her past with the bikers.
The Last Riders were always around town. Viper was involved in almost as many organizations as Drake. She had even confessed the meaning of the tattoo on her breast on a snowy afternoon in the hotel as they were lying in bed.
“Sweet Bliss, they saved you, protected you, and then set you free. I would have never met you without them. I don’t go to Ohio often.”
“I don’t ever want to go back.”
“To Ohio or to The Last Riders?”
Bliss remained silent, afraid her answer would damn her. She missed The Last Riders as if a part of her had been cut off.
“You still miss them?”
Bliss nodded. “I wouldn’t want to take part in the parties, though, because I wouldn’t want you touching someone else, and I don’t want to anymore. However, I miss how they are with each other. They’re friends. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I miss my friends.”
“They were more than your friends. They were your family, and family forgives each other. That’s what they do.” Drake played with the tendril of hair that had been steadily growing. Since she always kept her hair so short, it had already almost grown back to normal length.
Bliss gave a shaky laugh. “Maybe in a few years. I made them pretty mad.”
“I don’t think you made them as mad as you believe you did.”
“What do you mean?” They had been mad enough to vote her out.
“Nothing. Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day.”
Drake helped her off his lap, and then they both washed each other off.
Bliss was already half-asleep when she slid into bed, scooting over to give him plenty of room.
“Why are you all the way over there?”
Bliss opened her eyes to see him frowning at her. “I want you to be comfortable.”
Drake reached out, drawing her closer until her head was lying on his shoulder. “Now I’m comfortable.”
Chapter 18
Drake stomped his feet on the front porch, shaking off the snow, before he reached out to knock on the door. It took several minutes for Rachel to answer, her face pale as the snow he had just kicked of his boots.
“Drake?”
“Morning, Rachel. I’m sorry to wake you up early on Christmas Eve, but I’d like to talk to Cash.”
Rachel held the door wider. “Come in. He’s eating breakfast.” Her face turned a sickly shade of green.