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"Ah, Billie, we really don't need any of this," Andi instead.

"Well, no. No one needs any of this. Especially if they are having open and honest communication about shared fantasies and—"

"Okay, Billie. Time to go," I declared.

"I still have a lot in here," she told me, waving the box around.

"I'm sure you do. And if we ever have need of it, we will let you know," I told her.

"Oh, good. Please do. You guys know me, I am the resident physical love guru. No topics are off-limits with me."

"I am acutely aware of that now," I agreed, helping her out into the hallway.

"Hope told me that Billie dragged her to some sort of naked yoga cult," Andi told me, wincing.

"That doesn't surprise me in the least," I said, shaking my head. "She means well, but I draw the line at taking advice from a sort-of cousin who is several years younger than me."

"Besides," Andi agreed, taking the lube that had been tossed on the bed and slipping it into the dresser drawer, "you don't need any tips."

I needed to keep my focus on the task we were about to undertake as a club.

But one little comment like that was like a shot of pure need to my cock.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, moving toward the bed, reaching down to close my hand around her throat, gently pulling her up onto her feet. "You like how I touch you, huh?" I asked, my other hand sliding down, closing over her breast through her shirt.

"Y-yes," she said, taking a deep breath as she wet her lower lip with her tongue.

"Good," I decided, leaning down to press my lips to hers, hard, but only for a moment. "Because I plan on doing a lot more of it."

I'd spent most of my life thinking about what it would be like to be able to touch her, to hear her sighs, her moans, to taste her, to feel her walls clenching around me. And not a single one of the fantasies I had gone over in my head came anywhere close to how it was in reality.

I was sure I would never get enough of it.

But I was also going to test that theory by having her at every possible opportunity in the foreseeable future.

"Nope," I said when her hand slid up my thigh, slipping inward. "No time for that right now," I told her, chuckling at the little whimper she let out. "But if you climb in this bed and get some sleep, I will wake you up in a memorable way when I get back," I told her, watching as her eyes danced.

"Fiiine," she said, sighing exaggeratedly.

"You'll at least try to sleep, right?" I asked, rubbing the pad of my thumb under the circles under her eyes.

"I'm going to be honest here," she said, tsking at herself. "I am probably going to sit up with my stomach in a knot," she told me. "Like it or not," she added.

"I guess I can't be mad you're worrying about me," I conceded. "But you need some sleep."

"I'll sleep when you're here to sleep too."

I'd never really entertained the idea of a world where I had a warm woman in my bed to come back to. But now that I had it, I decided I never wanted to be without it.

It put shit into perspective.

It gave me something to be careful for, no matter what the job was.

That was why Reign had spent so much of his tenure as the president of the MC trying to shore up the club, put in measures to make it so that nothing could get in anymore. Because he had a woman he loved to come home to. Because, eventually, he had kids that needed him too.

I'd never known that, so I had always—like Fallon, like the others of our generation—gone into situations with fearlessness, if not outright idiocy, convinced we were all untouchable. Or, at least, that it would be worth it to go out in a blaze of glory.

That suddenly sounded so fucking stupid.

"You'll be careful, right?" she asked, leaning forward, pressing her forehead into the center of my chest, waiting for my arms to go around her to put hers around me.

"Yes."

"And you'll make sure my dad is too? He's trying to hide it, but he's angry."

"I know," I agreed, giving her a tight squeeze.

"You have to come back," she added. "I could never explain to Nugget why he can't see you anymore."

"Nugget, huh? That's the only reason?" I asked, giving the ends of her hair a little tug.

"I might miss you a little bit too," she told me, smiling up at me. "Since you stopped being a giant jerk, that is," she added.

A chuckle moved through me. "I've been a dick for a long time now. It might not be that easy to turn off."

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