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Sweet Jesus.

My body temperature went from slightly warm to red-hot at his words, spoken in that husky, dark voice of his. Reflexively, my fingers tightened around his cock, making his face twist with a mixture of pain filled pleasure. Those incredible green eyes of his turned to moss, and I felt like he was casting some kind of spell over me as I licked my suddenly dry lips.

“Y-you don’t want it,” I said more to remind myself rather than him.

“Sweetheart, you know good and well that’s a lie. You’re holding onto the proof right now.”

I was sure my heart was going to beat right out of my chest it was pounding so hard. My body began to tremble with a cocktail of nervousness and need. This felt surreal, as if I wa

s dreaming, like every other time I had thought of what would happen if Raider ever really wanted me.

But as he said, I was holding onto the proof that it was reality. The coated wet tip of his cock was even further evidence that I was definitely not dreaming.

Yet, what would happen if we did have sex? Would everything change? Or would he treat me like every other woman who has been in his bed?

The truth was, I didn’t know and I didn’t want to find out. I was supposed to be moving on, putting this man and my feelings for him behind me.

Maybe the reality of this guy isn’t as good as the dream.

Kelli’s words from earlier floated through my head. What if she was right? What if the reality wasn’t as good as the dream I had built up in my imagination for so long?

Here is my chance to find out.

One time, that was all I needed. Once with Raider to prove whether my roommate was right or not.

Then, no matter what the outcome, I would move on. I would start living my life instead of continuing to hold the pause button because I couldn’t have a life with the man I had loved for so damn long.

It only took a few seconds to make up my mind.

As way of answering him, I stroked his cock up and down, pumping my hand around his thickness. More liquid spilled over on to my fingers, acting as a natural lubricant as I continued to stroke him.

A deep, rumbling growl of pleasure seemed to be pulled from his very soul, and he pulled back. His cut was pulled off with jerky movements, the leather making a soft thud as it landed on a chair across the room. Raider then reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing inch after delicious inch of his hard, sun-kissed abdomen and chest.

His arms and chest where inked up with tribal tattoos while I knew all too well that his back had his MC patch across it. It must have taken countless hours of sitting for Spider to get them done with such detail. I had always loved his ink, and right then, I would have given up a year of my life just to be able to take the time to trace each and every one of them.

Instead, I watched in wonder as Raider covered my hand with his that was still on his cock and gently pulled my fingers away. I watched in awe as he stroked himself once, then again. A big drop of that sticky liquid beaded at the tip, and I had the sudden craving to lick it away.

With those moss-green eyes watching me, he was able to read exactly what I was thinking. He wiped the tip clean with his thumb before bringing it to my lips. “Taste me, sweetheart.”

I felt my cheeks fill with pink, but I opened my mouth just enough to sneak my tongue out and lick his thumb clean. I swallowed the slightly salty treat and realized I liked it.

“Fuck, Quinn,” he muttered. “Why do you have to be so goddamn sexy?”

I couldn’t find the words to answer him. I was dumbfounded he had just said that.

He thought I was sexy?

I couldn’t take the time to think about that, however, as he released himself and jerked his pants and boxer briefs down his thighs before kicking them off. Then he was taking my hands, pulling me into a sitting position and reaching for the end of my shirt. It floated to the floor behind him as he took a moment to soak in the sight of my white bra.

When his eyes drifted farther down, landing on my belly ring, I saw the already banked fire in his eyes shoot higher. He reached out with his left hand, tenderly flicking at the little charm on my ring. It was a silver angel’s wing with a halo wrapped around it. The ring had been a present from Colt several years before; one of my favorites.

“When did you get this?” he muttered while tracing the skin around my navel.

“I got it for my eighteenth birthday.”

“Did Colt go with you?” Curiosity and something else flashed in his eyes. I thought it looked like jealousy, but quickly chastised myself for thinking this man could feel anything like that over me.

Something told me he wouldn’t like the truth, so I didn’t answer. I ran my hands over my hair, pulling the useless hair tie from my messy hair and tossing it onto the nightstand. Reaching behind me, I unsnapped the two clasps of my white bra and let the straps fall down my arms.

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