Page 20 of The Biker’s Guilty Pleasur

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he said.

The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable around him. He’d never judge her or her late sister. Reaper had dealt with a lot of addicts in his years, and there was usually a story behind everyone. He wasn’t one to judge. He was just glad that she’d admitted there was no reason to hate bikers. No reason to hate him.

“Okay.” She hugged herself, still wearing her grandma dress. “What happens now?”

“What do you mean?” He didn’t want to assume anything. Reaper wanted to believe she was talking about them and where their relationship was going. That was unlikely.

“Do we go to the police?”

He chuckled. “Even Gena knows that’s not the answer,” he said. “You’re going to move into the clubhouse until I can figure this shit out.”

“What? No way.”

“It’s not optional, sweetheart. It’s the safest place for you.”

“I’m not moving in with a bunch of bikers and ... sweet-butts!” She turned to return to her bedroom.

He got up to calm her down, but she was already changing clothes in an angry frenzy. She froze when she saw him, standing at the dresser in just her bra and panties. Fuck, her body was thick and to die for. Strong hips and huge, soft tits. His mouth watered just looking at her. He should have apologized and tapped out right away.

Only he didn’t. Reaper walked toward her, and she hadn’t moved or yelled for him to fuck off yet.

“Damn, you’re perfect,” he said. Reaper smoothed a hand over her hair and gripped the back of her neck. She let out a barely audible gasp. They stared at each other. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. He leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth.

The moment their lips met, weeks of restrained longing shattered. It wasn’t a tentative kiss or a careful one—it was everything they’d swallowed down, denied, and fought against crashing free in a single, breathless heartbeat. He kissed her like he’d been starving for the chance. Her lips were soft and sweet, those little mewling sounds driving him crazy. She immediately reciprocated, kissing him back, and wrapping her arms up over his shoulders.

“I don’t want a sweet-butt,” he said, close to her lips. “I want you.”

“I can’t share. I’m not that kind of girl, and I’m too sensitive to deal with it.”

He ran his hand down her back, then over the globe of her ass. “Who said you had to share? You prejudging me again?” He kissed her neck, pulling her lower body against him.

All he could think about was throwing her on the bed and spreading her legs. But he had to restrain himself, had to remember she was a good girl.

“You’re a man. A biker.”

“And I’m all yours.”

They kissed again, once, twice. Softly this time. Her anger had dissipated.

The room was too quiet, a bit of awkwardness creeping in.

“How did this happen?” she whispered.

He smiled. “I guess it was there all the time. I felt a spark from the first time I saw you. You had fire.”

“And I was an idiot.” She let out a little laugh.

How could he fall in love so fast? So intensely. Reaper was an expert at guarding his heart and hiding his pain. With Grace, it was so easy, so natural to let it all go.

“You can’t stay here, Grace. The world isn’t always a safe place.”

“But it’s my home. I can’t leave Bob, either.”

He froze, his hackles up as he leaned away from her. “Who the fuck is Bob?”

She smirked, nodding to the door of her bedroom.

He turned around quickly and looked to the entrance. That big, fat cat was sitting there watching them.