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She laughs. “When I need a reminder that good men exist. Though, it usually ends in tears, a pint of ice cream, and a ton of sulking. Did you ever send anyone letters while you were away?”
“Do letters to my mother count?”
A sweet smile lifts onto her face. “Yeah, they do. I’m sure she still treasures them.”
“She did until she passed away a few years ago.”
Nora gasps. “Oh, I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
“Trust me, you’re good. She lived a long and happy life, and I was lucky to get to spend the time with her that I did.” I stand from the ottoman and take her tray of finished food. “Any chance you feel up for heading out to the hospital? You really should get your injury looked at.”
“Actually, do you think my leg will be okay overnight? I don’t think I can hack the long drive and drama after everything today. My eyes are so heavy all of the sudden.”
I glance out the window. I’ve been so involved with our conversation, I forgot about the storm that’s still pounding down. The hail has stopped, but the rain is still heavy. We could go down the mountain tonight, but it wouldn’t be the safest option. “I’ve got some antibiotics and pain killers left from when one of the guys at the MC got hurt a while back. I’ll set you up for the night and we’ll reassess in the morning.”
I’ve barely finished my sentence before she leans into the corner of the couch and falls asleep cuddled up with a pillow.
She’s so fucking cute. I blow out a heavy breath, trying to avoid the sweetness, and take the tray into the kitchen with the pot of cooled water. I should’ve told her I knew Mike. I should’ve told her that he’s my half-brother. I should’ve told her that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. I should’ve told her that the reason I went out for a ride tonight was because I knew she’d be driving back, and I didn’t see the bike in her driveway. I should’ve told her I was doing a run between here and the next town for hours, just to make sure she got home okay.
I should’ve told her because despite the fact that I find pride in my self-control, when it comes to Nora, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out.
Chapter Three
Nora
Big, rough hands land on my shoulder in warm comfort as I drag in the woodsy scent of the forest. Doc is on top of me with his hard cock pressed to my crotch. He’s big and heavy and everything about him screams, manly. I’ve never felt so safe and hungry.
“Don’t move.” His tone is deep and rough like usual, but now there’s something different in his eyes. Famine, desperation, a determined ache that rattles his voice when he talks.
My clit throbs as he leans in toward me, his warm breath on my ear.
“Do you want me to make you better, Cookie?”
I mutter out a simple moan of approval as my uterus and brain work together against me. Doc might be older, but he’s hot as hell. Wide shoulders, ink traveling up and down both arms, a beard that’s begging to be ridden, and an empathetic nature that’s eagerly performing for my ovaries.
God, what’s wrong with me?They write books about women like me—girls with daddy issues. First Mike, now Doc. Apparently, I can’t help myself with older men. Maybe that’s the mistake.
It’s not like they all have life figured out. Mike was a complete idiot who had no idea how to talk to a woman, or better yet, how to treat one. Age isn’t everything, and I shouldn’t assume because Doc is older, he knows what he’s doing.
Yet here I am, in the comfort of his arms, with his warm breath on my neck and his big rough hand on my face.
He leans down and scrapes his teeth against my hard nipples, each growing with every bite.
I jump and squirm beneath him suddenly realizing I’m naked and so is he.How did this happen? When did this happen? Where did all the pain go?And where did he get that rope?
My questions seem relevant, but I ignore them in favor of his tongue slipping into my mouth. God, he feels good. His lips pepper my neck, down over my breasts, my stomach, and my wet, throbbing core.
I’ve never been more excited in my life. I squeeze my thighs together as he begins to tie a labyrinth of knots around my ankles and wrists. His gaze meets mine with each pull of the rope. A shock of electricity shoots between my legs and forces a panting like I’d just run a mile. Why is my body responding like this when I’ve done nothing but lay here and let this giant of a man tie me up?
“Are you my tough, little cookie? Can you handle all thisroughrope?” He narrows his gaze as he works the knots tighter, guiding me down on my knees before him.
His cock is long, thick, and waiting. I lean in and open my mouth, taking his length into my hot lips as he slants a heated look toward me and runs his fingers through my hair.
How am I here? How is this happening?
The rough fibers of the rope sting at my skin but I like the abrasion. In fact, I want him to pull tighter.
With his fingers in my hair, he moves me to the speed he desires, thumping into my mouth impatiently as though his needs have taken over and I’m the good little girl who’s going to satisfy him.
