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He grabs the soap, lathering his large, tan hands, and then he washes me. My head is spinning. He doesn’t talk, just gently cleans me and washes himself. It sounds crazy, but I’m mesmerized by the way he moves. The way he’s far rougher on himself than on me. I want to touch him, he’s so beautiful. But he hasn’t said anything, so I’m not sure if that’s allowed. He lathers his chest and the soap trails down his body. My breath stutters as his dick stands hard and thick. And a hunger I didn’t even know I had takes over my body. I’m sore, but so achy and wet from merely looking at his thick, velvety cock. I want to lick the water off it, suck on it until he comes in my mouth.

“Julianna?” The lack of water and his gravelly voice make me realize he’s done and smirking at me.

“Look at my greedy, pretty baby.” And I want to either melt or slither down the drain.

He strokes his cock, then reaches for a towel on the wooden rack.

“I’ll fuck you later. Now we’re going to sleep.” He wraps the towel around me. I hate that I have zero experience, because I want him to fuck me now, not sleep.

He smirks again, and I wonder if I accidentally said that out loud. That would be mortifying.

Stroking my lips with his thumb, he says, “Give me a second to change the sheets.”

I nod, trying to look anywhere other than at his amazing, tight ass as he strips the bed. It’s one large room with a small bar on the side. Large glass windows look out toward the pool. The reflection from the sun twinkles up. A couple of pictures of motorcycles are on the white walls, but other than that, it looks like he could pack up and leave in minutes.

“Come here, Julianna.” My core clenches as I look at him. He’s lying in bed, one arm behind his head, his biceps huge, and my stomach flips with excitement at the way his eyes caress my face.

Screw not having experience—I think he likes me pure. Moving toward him, I let my gut rule me rather than my mind. My towel slips away, and I smirk at the way his eyes darken and how his hand slowly strokes his cock.

Planting one knee on the bed, I crawl toward him.

RYDER

Past

Disciples’ clubhouse

Burbank, CA

I’m dreaming. The familiar bike shop is ahead, the streets have no sounds, and I only hear buzzing. You know, the kind of buzz that a bicycle makes when you’re coasting?

I hesitate, then step into the shop. Morning sun peeks through the dirt-covered windows, casting an eerie glow.

I turn to face the man. He sits on a wooden bench working on a bike. I’ve seen this man many times but don’t know him. My eyes shift to the corner, seeking her, knowing she’s there in the darkness, never the light. Smelling of apple cider, maybe lemonade? I love this smell. It’s what I crave.

Home. Peace. A future.

“You can’t have it all, and you can’t change who you are,” the man says to me, his voice echoing around the crowded room.

“I know who I am.”

He stares at me, his face weathered, more from dirt and grime than age.

“You will love.” He nods, picking up a pipe. “But only once.” He shifts his eyes to the corner where I know she stands. I move forward and hold out my hand, for what I don’t know. The man looks at me, then reaches down to pick up one small piece of a puzzle. He drops it into my hand.

“I love you,” I hear her say. I turn, and because it’s all so clear, the missing piece is finally in place. She steps out and into the light. Julianna is the missing piece.

“Julianna.”

My eyes bolt open. Sitting up, I try not to wake her. “The fuck?” I breathe in and out and look over at my obsession, wondering how I didn’t know. Yet didn’t I? Deep inside, I knew it was her. With a heavy sigh, I try to think.

Christ, my mother is right. I probably am cursed. Or at least insane. With a snort, I reach for my pack of smokes.

It’s been a while since I’ve had that dream, or any dreams where he tells me things. I had started to hope… I light up, leaning back against the cold wooden headboard. Inhaling deeply, I hope the nicotine helps with my head. It aches, always does after one of these dreams.

Julianna sighs and reaches for me. The faint smell of apples lingers on my fingers as I bring the cigarette to my lips.

I shake my head. I should never have touched her but fuck it. Can’t regret it now.

“You can’t have it all, and you can’t change who you are.” His voice still rings in my head, making my temples pound.

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