Outlaw's Ride: An MC Romance by Carter Steele (books recommended by bts .txt) 📕

knuckles all the time, Wreck was handsome in a severe way. Instead of the motel room we stayed in casting hard shadows and highlighting his chiseled muscles and rough biker demeanor, the warm strip lighting and the recessed spot lights of the clubhouse he called home gave his whole body a beautiful glow, somehow humanizing him even more.

A swelling of gratitude washed over me. There was no one else in the world like him and he chose me.

I exhaled softly when I saw him turn around. Sitting up on the table, I captured his eyes, which slowed him to a stop, and began pulling away the scarf around my neck. It was my last bit of armor and as it fell away completely I felt truly naked before him.

That was my choice, and I chose him.

Wreck smiled wide and accepting as he rushed over and kissed me.

With the last obstacle between us removed I gave myself fully into my lust. I grabbed the condom and with an embarrassing amount of skill opened the package and unrolled it down the length of his hard cock. Any real thoughts were muddy and sluggish and quickly replaced by raw urges. I needed him, all of him.

Wreck fisted his cock and dragged it mercilessly along my soaked lower lips. The anticipation made me bite my lip almost to the point of drawing blood. My pulse beat like war drums in my ears. His scent of oil, metal and fresh sweat made my head swim. Then he slowly pushed into me. Easy at first, just the tip, then undulating out and in, getting deeper each time. I exhaled through gritted teeth, slowly feeling stretched in all the right ways.

It was both gentle and deliberate.

“You feel fucking incredible,” he growled the words out with his forehead pressed against mine.

I wanted to reply, say anything, but what would it matter? Even if I could speak, words paled in comparison to the volumes our bodies said to one another. It was primal communication between our grinding hips and searching hands. I could feel our heartbeats mingle when he lowered his to mine. Slick with sweat, fire, and lust, we moved and writhed as one person. It was the most intimate experience I'd ever felt, and one I knew I could never again live without.

My feet straightened and toed pointed off the edge of the table as his hips built up speed and his cock pumped like a throbbing piston. Missionary position never felt so full, or so heart-stoppingly good before. I let my fingernails run shallow lines down his beefy back as I struggled to hold on to nothing in particular.

Wreck slammed a balled fist down onto the table to steady himself, his rings rapping with authority against the hardwood. The sound was so loud that it echoed off the wall but somehow despite it being near my head I barely heard it. His sliding cock, heavy breathing and oh so much good pressure from his whole body ushered me along to climax at a rapid pace.

And then he whispered, “You are beautiful,” and kissed my naked, scarred neck and I lost it.

Orgasm ripped through me, tensing my entire body. My scream was an ugly ragged breathy thing but neither of us cared.

“Fuck,” Wreck grunted, his hips bucked once then immediately slowed to a stop. He crushed against me, grabbing my thigh, trying to slow things. My pussy tightened around him, our aftershocks feeding into each other like a live electrical current. For a fleeting moment neither of us dared to even breathe.

When breath and reality returned I reached up and pulled him down on top of me. I just needed to feel his weight for a moment to truly know it was all real. We stayed like that, hugging, letting the cool air wick the sweat from our naked bodies. Then Wreck rolled onto his back next to me on the hard wooden table and all that was left was to enjoy the afterglow. Sliding an arm beneath me to support my head, he let his gaze wash over me.

“Wonder what Machu Picchu is like?” he finally asked with a slowly creasing smirk.

“Let's go find out. I'll bring my sketchbook,” I signed, playing along at what would have felt unimaginable before Wreck arrived.

“Good. Have your bags packed by tomorrow, I'll book us a red-eye. You have your passport right?” He nodded thoughtfully as if working out the logistics in his head, then paused and furrowed his forehead. “Shit I don't think I have mine. Alright, that's step one...”

We both chuckled.

As the laughter died down and a moment of comfortable, satiated silence followed a lingering apprehension came to the forefront of my heart. I still hadn't been completely honest with him and it was going to eat me alive until I was.

“Wreck,” I said, pushing through the hesitant fear and all the worst case scenarios that seemed to be building up steam in my head. When he turned and gave me his full attention I froze for a moment not sure if I could actually get the words across. I've been lying to you everyday. It wasn't just today with the cellphone GPS on, Patrick has had me spying on you, recording your conversations with the club, gathering any information at all that might destroy you and everything you care about. It was awful and I suddenly felt sick, not just at having to admit what I'd done but at having done it in the first place. “I have something to tell you...”

A sudden loud noise outside startled me and launched Wreck into a sitting position on the table as he tried to figure out where it had come from. A second later the side door to the trailer swung open. I rolled off the table, dressed faster than I'd ever had in my life. I felt like a teenager fooling around with her boyfriend when her parents burst in!

“Get your shit, Wreck!” Mac hollered, showing his