Dash (Silver Saints MC)

Rubbing my cheek against his chest, I pressed a kiss to his pec. Then I tilted my head back to smile up at him. “My legs feel like jelly. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to walk again.”

The grin he flashed me sent butterflies swirling in my belly. “No worries, beautiful. I can just carry you everywhere.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“Damn straight. Whatever you need, I’m your man.” He patted my butt with a grin. “It’s only fair since I’m the one who fucked you until you couldn’t walk.”

I shifted my legs a little, surprised that I wasn’t more sore than I was, considering the size of his dick. But he’d been right—it fit…and gave me more pleasure than I ever thought possible. “Having you carry me around sounds awesome, but I’m sure my legs will be back to being able to hold me up soon.”

“If not, just let me know.” My stomach let out a loud rumble, making him chuckle. Cheeks heating, I buried my face in his chest, but he tilted my head back again. “No hiding from me, beautiful. And you better not be on a diet or some stupid shit like that. Love your curves just the way they are.”

His compliment wasn’t the prettiest I’d ever heard, but it was real. The sincerity shining from his gorgeous hazel orbs made it clear that he meant every word. “I’m not on a diet. I just wasn’t hungry this morning, so I skipped most of my breakfast, and my appetite wasn’t back by lunch. Then I was in a rush to catch the bus and just grabbed a little snack for dinner.”

“You won’t have to worry about taking buses anymore. If I can’t take you somewhere, one of the prospects will be more than happy to step in. But no bikes. Only man you’ll ever ride behind is me.” He stroked his hand down my spine to cup my butt cheek. “Were you nervous about your interview this morning?”

Even after what Mrs. Acker had said about Dash being able to help, I was in no rush to tell him about my troubles with my sister’s boyfriend. I didn’t want him to think there was even the slightest chance that I’d given him my virginity because I was hoping he’d help me out with Thad. Dropping my gaze, I nuzzled against his chest. “Not really.”

His hold on my butt tightened, and I braced myself for him to push me to explain why I hadn’t been hungry earlier today. Then my stomach growled again, and I felt no embarrassment this time. There was only relief when he slapped my butt before helping me off the bed. “Better get you fed so you have energy for later.”

A delicious shiver went down my spine at the thought of what he had planned for later, and I quickly tossed my clothes back on. Dash tossed me his vest, and I caught it but stared at him in confusion. “You want me to wear this? But aren’t your vests, like…a really big deal?”

Dash laughed as he walked over and helped me put it on.

“Yeah, beautiful. And until I can get one for you, I need you to wear my cut so the other assholes ’round here will know hitting on you means a broken jaw—if they're lucky.”

My mouth must have fallen open because Dash used a finger to shut it, then gave me a quick kiss before walking to the door. I was a little dazed as I followed Dash through the clubhouse and down to the kitchen. After getting me settled at the table in the chair closest to the stove, he asked, “In the mood for anything in particular?”

I was hungry enough to eat just about anything, but nothing specific came to mind. “What can you make?”

“Just about anything if we have the ingredients.” He strode over to the fridge and looked inside. “How about a quick version of beef stroganoff or some chicken quesadillas?”

After hearing his nieces beg him to come over to their house to make pot roast and cookies, I’d known he could cook, but I wasn’t expecting him to make me anything fancy this late at night. I figured he’d offer me a grilled cheese sandwich or scrambled eggs. “Beef stroganoff is one of my favorites.”

He reached into the fridge and muttered, “Then I’ll do quesadillas.”

My nose wrinkled at his reply. “But why?”

“Because I don’t want to make you a half-assed version if it’s something you love. I’ll save the stroganoff for when I can do it right,” he explained as he pulled out the ingredients for quesadillas.

I crossed my arms over my chest and fought a grin while I pretended to pout. “As long as you promise to make it for me soon, I won’t complain too much.”