Page 13 of Riding Bare

I’m not sure what changes, but I can feel a shift inside me. It’s bigger than the shift when I saw her in Prescott. It’s different than the shift I felt when we were officially declared husband and wife at the courthouse.

It’s bigger.

“Morning,” she exhales.

Now the way she says morning is something completely different, and that goes straight to my fucking dick.

Holy shit.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” I murmur.

I can’t help myself. The words just come pouring out of my mouth. And I don’t regret either one of them. Her lips slowly curve up into a smile, and I watch as her cheeks tint bright pink.

I’ve seen a lot of beautiful women in my life, but none as absolutely breathtaking as this woman in my bed, at my side, pink-cheeked and looking at me like I could conquer the fucking world—she makes me feel like I actually could, too.

My wife.

It’s still hard for me to believe that she’s actually my wife, even if it’s in name only. My fake wife, even though she’s my legal wife. A wife I never wanted, and now I don’t want her to ever leave me, which is fucking insane to even think, so I don’t say it out loud.

“Today’s the big day,” I murmur.

I try my hardest to keep the conversation going, because if I don’t, my mouth is going to have a mind of its own, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain myself, control myself, or give a damn about either.

Chassis leisurely shifts herself a little closer to me, closing whatever distance existed between our bodies. I swear this is not the best place for me. I want her too fucking badly to be in this bed with her, wearing just my boxers, with her in barely much more than that.

Then she lifts her hand between us, and I feel her palm against my cheek. Her fingernails gently scrape my jaw, and my whole fucking body feels like it’s been lit on fire. And I want to fucking burn.

I hope I do. As long as she’s the one lighting the match, I’ll burn to a fucking crisp. Happily, but right now, she’s testing every single ounce of resolve I have inside me. I pride myself on my control, on being a cool head among my men. I’ve made it my mission to think first, ask questions, and then make an informed decision on every aspect of the club and myself.

“What’re you doing, Skel?”

“Skel?” she asks, her words coming out almost like a bite.

My lips twitch. “I was thinking of what I could call you. Chassis is really fucking cumbersome in some situations. And Skeletons are what we call the bike’s frames, so I thought it was cute.”

“Cute,” she whispers. “Some situations.”

I grunt, and against all of my better judgment, I lean forward and touch my mouth to hers in a hard, long kiss. I don’t deepen it, even though that’s exactly what I want to do. Instead, I shift my head back slightly and look into her eyes.

“Situations, Skel.”

CHAPTER

TEN

CHASSIS

I wanted Dare… Amos to keep kissing me this morning, but he didn’t, and I missed his warm body almost instantly. A body I have no right to want, miss, or have for myself.

Marriage or not, I know what this is.

He can have his fun at the clubhouse, and I can discreetly have mine. We agreed to that on our wedding day, but what happens when the only fun I want to have is with him?

Turning the shower water off, I can’t stop thinking about Amos. Waking up beside him, smelling him, feeling him, it was almost too much for me. Had I known I could feel this way about a man, I don’t think I would have even given Samuil a second glance.

Sure, he was good-looking, but there was a coldness to him. He was trying to seduce me, and now that my head isn’t all wrapped up in him, I can see that. It was all him trying, but also me feeling like I wasn’t enough.

I would have done anything to keep his attention. And little did I know, it was all a game, manipulation tactics. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I fell for it all, hook, line, and sinker.