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“I want a girl,” Gauge blurts with tears wetting his cheek. “I want a beautiful baby girl who looks just like her gorgeous mama.”
“Oh,” I croak as the waterworks turn on full blast. I can redo my makeup later. This man has struck me in the feels in all the right ways. There’s no way I’m going to not ugly cry while holding my husband.
“You know I’ve no control over what we’re having, right? Like fate made the choice when you released your swimmers.”
Gauge captures my lips between his, coaxing me to open my mouth to his ravenous tongue. He plunders my mouth, sending me into a tailspin of dizzying endorphins. I barely feel my back hit the bed as Gauge crawls over me, bunching my dress around my waist.
“Gauge,” I rasp on a moan, my resolve peeling away like the panties Gauge tugs down my legs. “The guests.”
“It’s an open bar,” he counters, fumbling with his belt and pants. “They’re fine.”
He’s too funny. It’s always an open bar at the Mercy Ravens MC headquarters.
Our fingers lace together right as he sinks into me. Gauge takes me hard, setting a steady pace. I tilt my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, grinding my swollen clit against his pelvis each time he makes contact. Jolts of electricity shoot down my spine, straight between my legs.
Gauge pulls the thin straps of my gown down my shoulder, springing my breasts free from the tight confines of the dress.
“Fuck. These are going to get so much bigger,” Gauge purrs with excitement.
He rolls my furled nipples between his calloused fingertips and thumb pads, pulling them into stiff peaks. When his mouth descends on my breast, rumbling with deep, throaty contentment, I explode with a violent orgasm, wringing his release from him.
“Fuuuck,” Gauge groans, shuddering while pumping into me.
We clutch each other, refusing to let go as the aftershocks roll through our bodies. Gauge holds his weight above me on his forearms, his head buried in my cleavage. Blissed, I run my fingers through his short brown hair, relishing this post-coitus high.
My life was in shambles for many years, living out of a suitcase while jumping from city to city to escape my horrendous past. My only goal was to survive, with no hope of anything more. I had to hit rock bottom before I could rise above. But even glow sticks need to be broken before they can glow.
Yes, I have a lot of emotional baggage to sort through. But with Gauge at my side and continued counseling with my therapist, I know I can overcome my past trauma, living the life I deserve.
Gauge came charging into my life, a knight in leather with a horse of steel, forcing me out of my purgatory and onto the path of freedom.
We struggled, fell, got back up, and plowed ahead hand-in-hand. The road to our happily ever after was treacherous and painful, but the end results have made every negative worth the war. I have the man of my dreams, a new family, and a baby on the way with a home and a business in the works.
What more could a woman ask for?
My stomach rumbles, craving nourishment. Preferably in the form of Stella’s comfort food.
Apparently, I stand corrected. A woman can ask for food anytime.
Gauge chuckles against my boobs, kissing each globe before pulling the straps of my sleeveless dress back on my shoulders. He slips out of me before heading for the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean me. After he’s done, he slides my panties back up my legs, fluffing my skirt down.
Not wanting it to be so obvious why we disappeared from our own wedding, I quickly touch up my makeup and smooth my hair.
“How do I look?”
“Like a dream come true,” Gauge drawls with a crooked smile, snaking his arms around my waist and kissing my exposed shoulder.
I turn in his powerful embrace, wrapping my arms around his thick neck. “I love you, Gauge.”
“And I love you, Missus Opal Roberts,” he replies, planting a warm, soothing kiss on my lips. “Come on, Gorgeous. I need to feed both my babies.”
And the Biker and His Precious Woman Lived Happily Ever After.
EPILOGUE
CHASE
The technology room is bustling. My team and I work through the files of a questionable investment bank we’ve been hired to investigate. I’m neck-deep in accounting records, ready to go cross-eyed.
