Page 12 of My Older Biker

"Jesus, Zoe."

"Are you going to tell me I don't know what I feel? That I'm too young to mean it?" Her eyes are dark. Unwavering. "Or are you going to stop protecting yourself from wanting me back?"

I could lie. Could tell her this is a bad idea. Could walk away from this and keep the distance that's kept me safe for the past year.

Instead, I say, "I'm terrified. But yeah. I'm sure."

Her hand fists in my shirt. "Then take me to bed."

I kiss her before I can think past the wanting. My hand in her hair. Pulling her head back so I can get my mouth on hers properly. She opens for me immediately. Her tongue against mine, and the taste of her drowning out every reason this is wrong.

I walk her backward down the hallway without breaking the kiss. She follows. Her hands on my chest, my shoulders, my neck. When we get to my bedroom door, I push it open with my boot.

The bed is unmade from this morning. Sheets tangled, but I don't care. I turn us so her back is to the bed and break the kiss long enough to look at her.

"Last chance," I say. "You want to stop, you tell me now."

"I don't want to stop."

"Once we do this—"

"Dean." She grabs my face with both hands. "Shut up and fuck me."

The bluntness of it hits me in the chest. I kiss her again. Harder this time. My hands sliding down to grip her ass, lifting her. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I carry her the last three steps to bed.

When I lay her down, she doesn't let go. Pulls me down with her until I'm covering her body with mine. The weight of me pressing her into the mattress. Her curves soft everywhere I'm hard.

I pull back enough to look at her. Her hair spread across my pillow. Her lips swollen from kissing. Her chest rising and falling fast.

"You're sure," I say one more time.

"I've been sure for a year," she says. "Are you sure?"

I think about Perry. About walking into violence in five hours. About all the reasons this is complicated and all the ways it could go wrong.

Then I think about Zoe sitting in my house waiting for me to come back.

"Yeah," I say. "I'm sure."

She pulls me back down. "Good. Then stop talking and show me."

Chapter 4 — Zoe

His mouth is on mine, and his weight presses me into the mattress and I can already feel how hard he is through his jeans.

I need him closer. Need more. Need everything.

He breaks the kiss and pulls back. His pupils are blown wide. His hands slide under my shirt. Hot palms on bare skin. He pushes the fabric up, lifts my arms, and the shirt comes off and lands somewhere I don't care about.

My breasts are heavy and full. Nipples already hard. I'm soft everywhere, curves and flesh and real substance.

"Jesus Christ." His voice is rough. "I've been wanting to see you like this for so long."

His hands cover my breasts, and the calluses on his palms scrape against sensitive skin. He squeezes and I arch into his touch.

"I love your body." He leans down and takes my nipple in his mouth. The heat of his tongue makes me gasp. "Love how soft you are."

His mouth works my breast while his hand moves down my stomach. His palm presses against my belly, fingers spreading wide. Then lower. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of my shorts.