Later that night, as Smoke held me in the dark, I told him what I had been holding back from saying: that I loved him. That I wanted to be with him. That I had made my decision. As he kissed me and stroked my hair, I realized I was home.
The next day, as I stood in the clubhouse with Smoke, I felt something shift inside me. A sense of belonging filled me as my man stood beside me, smiling down at me with pride. Ram and Roxy came up to us as Rosie was hugging me, and when she stepped away, Ram looked down at me with a sober expression and nodded once. “You’re tough,” he said approvingly. “That’s a good trait in an old lady.”
“She’s something, isn’t she?” Smoke grinned. He leaned down and kissed me, pressing me hard against him, and a fresh chorus of hoots and whistles began as I tried not to blush.
“Let’s get this party started!” Uncle yelled, and soon the clubhouse was alive with music, clinking bottles, shouting and laughing. As Roxy and a few of the other women stood talking together, I looked over at Smoke, who was deep in conversation with Bullet. When I caught his gaze, he winked at me and grinned, and a flood of warmth filled me. My old man, I thought, and suddenly I knew that my decision was the right one.
Smoke and I left the party around midnight, and rode through the dark night back to his house on the Harley. The thrum of the engine awakened my body as I straddled the bike. My arms were wrapped around my man and the smell of oil and leather filled my senses. That night, our lovemaking was raw, wild, and uninhibited. Smoke lifted me to him as soon as we were in the door and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my needy sex against his hardness as he carried me to his bedroom. He set me down and we pulled our clothing off in desperate rips and yanks, until we were standing naked before each other. Then, wordlessly, he pressed me back on the bed and entered me, thrusting hard and fast as I cried out wordlessly, my nails digging into his back as he rode me. I angled my hips back so that his slick shaft slid deliciously against my swollen nub, and the two of us locked eyes as we rode together, upward toward our climax. Finally, my body couldn’t resist anymore. I threw my head back and let out a loud moan as I bucked against him, my legs wrapped tight around his waist as my orgasm ripped through me. Smoke wasn’t far behind me, and the contractions of my inner walls squeezed tight around his pulsing cock. Then, I felt him stiffen against me, and with a loud groan, he exploded inside me, spasming over and over as he filled me.
Afterwards, as we lay together and the moonlight crept in through the window, I thought about freedom, and what Smoke had said when I questioned him about the club. I realized he had been right. Sometimes, freedom came as a choice to become who you are in relation to someone else. Love was that kind of freedom. The kind that liberates you even as it binds you. And that was what I had chosen: the freedom to choose who I was, and the knowledge that that choice would define me from now on.
In the months and years that followed, I had more than one occasion to worry about Smoke, and more than one night where I sat up and waited for him to get home. But I was never bored, and I never seriously questioned my decision. When it came to Smoke and me, I was all in. And that was all that ever mattered.
Daphne Loveling has lived and traveled all over the world in search of adventure. She currently lives in a hot climate with even hotter men (her husband is one of them!).
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Hi, readers! This is Daphne! I hope you loved this steamy story between Spider and Tallie! If you enjoyed this one, take a look at my other MC title, Fugitives MC. It’s a novella, not a series, and it's available now at your e-bookseller!
Bonus excerpt fromFugitives MC:
I grabbed a tray and went over to the table of bikers: this was my first test. "Hi, guys," I said in a voice I hoped sounded friendly-not-too-friendly, but most of all not nervous as hell. "What can I get for you?"
"Ah, new blood!" crowed a hard-looking man in his forties. He looked at me with a barely concealed leer. "I'm Bullet, sweetheart. Why don't you turn around and let us see the goods?"
I laughed like I was flattered and took a step back to twirl slowly around for him. "This one's got a hot little ass on her," Bullet laughed, smacking me once on the left cheek. I jumped and then smiled at him, hoping he wouldn't notice the tightness in my jaw. "Hope we'll be seein' a lot of you, darlin'. Let me introduce you to the boys," he continued, turning to the table. "This here's Uncle..." A man who had to be in his sixties, gone to fat and clearly the worse for wear. "Dime Bag..." late twenties, maybe, shaved head, muscular, with narrow eyes and a hard look. "And Spider."
Holy shit. Spider. I turned and stared in barely concealed amazement. I realized as I gazed at him that my childhood memory didn't include any sense of what he had looked like. My hatred and grief at Kyle's death had composed a portrait of Spider that alternated between serial killer and high school delinquent. The man who sat in front of me, ten years older than the last time I saw him, was nothing like I remembered. Clear blue eyes looked out from a square, masculine face. Dark hair, just a little too long, had begun to curl at his neck, drawing attention to the sensitive spot just behind his ear. A shadow of beard accentuated his strong jawline. Full, sensual lips curled up just a bit at the corner as he regarded me with casual curiosity, making my stomach flip. "
H-hello, gentlemen," I said, tearing my eyes away from Spider and looking at all of them in turn. "Pleased to meet you."
"Hey, darlin'. This your first night?" Spider drawled, his voice rich like melted butter. Oh. My. God. I was actually getting weak in the knees from sensory overload just being near this guy. It was like he was emitting some signal that sent a current through my body when he looked at or spoke to me. I need to watch myself around him, I thought as alarm bells went off inside me.
Continue reading Fugitives MC now at your e-bookseller!
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Oh, wow; where to begin? This could go on forever if I let it. Suffice it to say that I am indebted to a great many people for helping me along, showing me the way, and encouraging me to write. Thank you so much to the community of readers, authors, critics and mentors who give their time and expertise tirelessly to help one another. You know who you are. Thank you.
To my husband: you are the most supportive partner and soul mate a girl could ever hope for. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Finally, thank you, reader: thank you for supporting independent authors. You are what keeps us going, after all!
Los Perdidos: The Novel (Sons of Glory Motorcycle Club Romance) Page 12