Page 13 of Ex-Military Biker’s Bride

“Don't. There's more of it, but that’s all I’ve got today.”

“Then I'll tell you what you wanted to know.”

“My real name is Olivia Martin,” she says. “I'm an investigative journalist and I've never published under my own name in my life. I mainly work undercover, exposing big corporations, so I keep my identity secret.”

“For your family?”

“My mother and father are dead, car accident when I was ten. But my aunt raised me, and I don’t want anything linked back to her, or my cousins.”

I turn around.

“I’ve done four months deep undercover on Rotmere. It’s a high-level blackmail operation. They get VIPs up there, give them every deplorable thing they want, recording all of it. After that they own them.” Her hands scrunch the covers. “ Drugs, money-laundering; the courts can’t touch them. And I think there are women up there who can't leave. There’s someone inside feeding me intel… I’m worried about her. I’ve screwed up before.”

“Go on.”

“When I started out, I trusted a colleague with a source's name. But he wasn't careful with it. Inside a month, the source had lost her job, then her house, then her husband.” Her mouth twists. “I never trust anyone now. It costs too much. Which is why I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

She looks up, her brown eyes wet and furious.

“You flew that little plane onto a mountain in the dark to come and get me, and you’ve turned my world upside down.”

Prez told me I can’t trust her. But deep in my bones, I know I can. For the first time since joining the MC, I disobey a direct order.

“I'm not Rotmere's pilot. I was undercover for the High Vale Outlaws.” I stand up. “Prez put me on the job for a reason. All the manifests you’ve seen, any info I’ve gathered has been handed to Doc the same night.”

Her eyebrows shoot up.

“Olivia, you've done in four months what we've been building for two years. All on your own. It’s so fucking brave.” I clear my throat. “And I've been lying to you about it since the moment I met you.”

“Prez told you not to tell me.”

“Yep. Reminded me again today. He’s going to be pissed.”

“Then why?”

“Because you need to know you can trust me like I trust you. No secrets.”

I walk back to the bed and lean down, lifting her chin up and pressing my mouth down on hers. Her mouth opens as I kiss her, and she makes a little moaning sound that goes straight to my cock.

I get an arm around her waist and scoop her up into my arms.

“Tell me you're sure.”

“I'm sure, Lucky. Take me to bed… we’re right over it anyway.” She laughs, breathlessly, and then stops laughing when I set her down. My shirt comes off over her head.

She's soft everywhere, all curves, with freckles scattered over her shoulders. Her hair is loose across my pillow, and she's watching me look at her, meeting my gaze.

“You are beyond beautiful,” I tell her. “You've got no idea how much I want you.”

Her cheeks flush.

I try to go slow, but she doesn’t want me to. Her hands scrabble at my belt, dragging off my shirt. Eventually I catch both her wrists in one hand and put them up over her head against the wall and hold them there.

“Sweetheart. Let me look at you.”

Her eyes go soft as her thighs wrap around my hips. The whole of her body seems to relax, like she’s letting go.

“Your hands stay above your head.” I tell her. “Don't you dare move them.”