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“I’m going to come,” I gasp.
“Come for me,” he moans.
“Come with me,” I reply.
He nods and grits his teeth, pumping his cock into me with wild abandon. I feel him swelling inside of me, feeling myself tightening around him. And when Hawk moans my name and I feel him burst, I’m cut loose from my own moorings and feel myself floating away on a river of ecstasy. He fills me up completely with his thick, warm juices as we come together. I’ve never come harder and the passion in our voices rises higher and louder.
The sound of our shared ecstasy is carried away by the ocean breeze. I turn around and Hawk sits me down on the table again and stares into my eyes. He presses his forehead to mine as we both take a minute to catch our breath, goofy smiles on both our faces, our eyes locked together. The emotions within me swell to the point I feel like my heart might burst with them and all I can do is smile like an idiot.
“I love you so much, Tyson,” I say.
“And I love you, Molly.”
Now that is the perfect end to a perfect night.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Eighteen months later…
Ipull the RV into the parking lot in front of the clubhouse and cut the engine. I look over at Molly and give her a grin.
“You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Of course,” she replies. “We’re just stopping by for a visit. Right?”
I nod. “Just a visit.”
The fairy tale out in LA lasted longer than I expected it to. In fact, it’s still going on. We haven’t returned to reality. It’s been eighteen months since we set out that day after helping Molly escape and our entire life has changed.
The biggest change, of course, is currently cradled in Molly’s arms.
Jenkins. Our little boy.
When she told me she was pregnant, I rode out to Vegas to talk to Reaper personally. I thought I owed him at least that much respect. I gave up my VP patch and though I’m still a King at heart, I’m not riding anymore. I couldn’t find a way to balance being a father with being a biker and doing the things we do. I’ll never not be a King, and Reaper promised that the door is always open for me to come back when I want. Which I appreciate. For now, though, I want to focus on my new life. On my family.
We step out of the RV to find him standing on the porch of the clubhouse with a beer in his hand, staring at us and smiling.
“Well, look who it is,” Reaper calls. “The prodigal son returns.”
Molly steps out of the RV behind me, carrying the small bundle in her arms. Reaper bounds down the steps and pulls me into a tight hug, slapping me on the back. He steps back, then turns and takes a look at Jenkins. Molly holds him up and pulls the swaddling back so he can see and Reaper’s jaw drops. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that surprised.
“Son of a bitch,” he mutters. “You really had a kid.”
“Language,” I warn him.
He looks at me and grins. “You think he understands bad words already?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I was cursing at a pretty young age.”
Molly laughs. “He doesn’t understand,” she tells me. “That being said, we probably don’t want to get used to cursing in front of him. When he does get to an age where he can understand, he’ll be parroting those words back to us.”
“See?” I ask.
Reaper gives me the finger and laughs. “Unless you think he can read sign language too.”
“You’re such an asshole,” I say.
“Language,” Molly says mockingly.
