The Girl I Used to Be by Heidi Hostetter (that summer book .txt) 📕

Happy relationships came with work. She and Rider worked on theirs because there was this extreme need in them both. If they were in the same room, they were touching in some small way, or he’d drag her down into his lap and whisper the most deplorably lovely things in her ear to make her blush. Zara was fair all over, skin, hair, and eyes, so she blushed a lot against her will. Rider was dark in contrast. From his deep mahogany hair, that didn’t have one grey strand yet. To his naturally olive skin, inherited from his Greek side.

She loved how they looked side by side.

He was big, and she was tiny.

They fit like perfect puzzle pieces.

Her puzzle piece was horny as hell and clamoring to get closer to him if he’d let her.

Short nails scraped gently along his hairy forearm. Rider grunted but didn’t increase his speed as he toyed with her down below. Surely he felt how wet and ready she was. She was like a freaking lake. But those sinful fingers went on plying her with stroke after stroke until she was mindlessly circling her pelvis and listening to his encouraging words of praise while he kissed her.

His lips were carved from sin, and he knew how to wield his superpower to reduce her to a yammering wreck.

Zara knew this because she’s kissed him a billion times, if not more.

She’s addicted to those masculine lips.

The ones that smirk at her because he can guess which naughty route her brain has gone down.

It’s his fault.

Rider was an expert on dirtying her up with his dark and wicked ways.

Fingers so tight squeezed her hip while his teeth scraped the bare part of her shoulder, whiskers leaving a burn on her skin.

“My cock is already worked up, Icy.” He rasped. “Keep going with your wiggling ass, and I’ll spill all over your back.”

See? A simple statement steeped in filthy truth sent her careening into the abyss as she stiffened all over. The orgasm washed through her.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckled, withdrawing his hand. He curled those wet fingers around her throat, angling her head back so she could make out his eyes in the dark. “You wanted me to come all over you.”

There was no point in lying or playing coy. He knew her too well for that. Many times during lovemaking, he’d pull free from her body and stroke himself off onto her stomach, just to watch her fall apart with her bliss.

It might seem dirty, but being marked by Rider was the happiness she craved from a dark place only he owned.

She wasn’t a good girl.

Nor was she a bad girl

But she was Rider’s girl, and she loved every second of what they did together.

Magic. Some might say.

She knew better. There was no magic in the world other than what they made together through blood, sweat, and anguish. They’d made it to the other side, and though their MC world would never fully be free of danger, she was happier than ever living without magic.

Magic was an illusion. It was lies and dreams, smoke, and mirrors. It was sufficient for a time, but she preferred the reality of this existence right here.

The life where she had the epic love from a biker-man, who peeled her out of her shorts with a gentle touch.

This man, capable of many deplorable, unspeakable acts, treated Zara like she was refined diamonds. Nothing was too much for him if she wanted it.

She wanted him.

In every dark, delicious way there was.

She’d take Rider—lawbreaking, unscrupulous, and moralless.

He wasn’t an unkind man.

Not even a bad man to those who knew him.

It was the truth she spoke when she ran her hands over the rugged planes of his chest, fine hairs tickling her palms. He was decorated in ink, some he’d added to since knowing her. He wore their kids’ names in Greek across his chest. She traced it by memory. “I always want to wear you, Ambrosio.” She shared as he grabbed her ass and shuffled her forward, forcing her leg to wind over his hip as she felt him notch his cock to her wet and needy entrance. “But I’d prefer you dripping out of me.”

Oh, god. She felt her cheeks flame.

The dirty talk did not come easily to Zara. At all.

But he loved it, so she did her best for him, and it worked like a charm when he grunted all rough and alpha and shoved forward, impaling her in one try.

“People think you’re so sweet and good,” he breathed against her mouth. They were chest to chest, her leg inching higher on his hip so he could push deeper. Rider had his hand gently under her chin to better take her lips.

“I am,” she insisted with a short giggle, which tapered off into a tortured moan as he started to move and move and move.

“Only I know what a sweet fuckin’ she-wolf you are, don’t I, Icy?”

God. Yes. Yes! Only Rider.

“Only I know what a cocktease my girl is.” He went on, shoving to the depths of her vagina. Oh, lord. Was that Jesus she saw behind her flickering eyelids?

She whimpered like an injured rabbit, clinging to the man she adored.

Eager for more of his dirty musings because he wasn’t wrong. At all.

Rider’s pelvis shortened his thrusts when he knew he’d hit the soft center that made her tighten her walls around his cock. They groaned together. And the hand under her chin angled it up, and lips so sweet crashed on hers, prying them open so his tongue could dominate.

“Whatcha think was gonna happen, Zara, when you sent me a text earlier, telling me you were soaking in the tub?”

“I