hand off her breast, and he grabbed her hips. "You're so damn tight, sweetheart."
For the last several weeks, they'd thrown out the condoms. He'd gotten her a script from the doctor at the clubhouse for birth control. There was no going back. He needed that skin to skin contact.
That ownership.
That proof.
Easing in and out, he leaned over her back and nipped her shoulder. "I fucking love you."
"I. Love. You. Too." She panted, arching her head back.
With each plunge, she rocked back against him. Her pussy tightened, stroking him harder. He put most of his weight on his good leg and kept the rhythm she'd set.
They came one after another. Her first. Then, he lost control. When they stilled, he pulled her up. His cock slipped out of her, and he shuddered at the intensity of leaving her body.
The phone rang before he could catch his breath. She moaned in disappointment. He stepped to the side and picked up the receiver. Gruffly, he said, "Yeah?"
"It's Whip. I'm heading over there." Whip hung up.
He returned the receiver to the phone. "Fuck."
"Problem." She slipped the t-shirt back over her head and stepped toward the bathroom.
"Whip is on his way here." He eyed her long, sexy legs. "Better put some clothes on."
"I'm jumping in the shower again." She looked over her shoulder. "Then, I'll put some coffee on."
"Skip the coffee." He followed her down the hallway. "He won't feel like drinking anything when I finish with him."
Josie stopped in front of the bathroom and turned around. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to beat the shit out of him." He continued into the bedroom.
She followed him. "Wait. What? Why would you hurt him? You like Whip."
"Because he has it coming." He pulled on his jeans, forgetting the boxers. He wasn't planning on staying dressed for long. As soon as his MC brother left, he planned to take Josie to bed.
"Should I even ask?"
"No."
She raised her brows and backed out of the room. "Yell if you need me."
He chuckled. Besides the limp and the scars, he'd fully recovered. Now, if he could regain his strength after being laid up for three months, he'd feel better about going on the run to California at the end of the month.
After he finished lacing up his boots, he walked out to the living room, using that time to adjust his step to the heaviness added to his foot. Eyeing his vest, he refused to put it on.
What he needed to do had nothing to do with Tarkio.
The hum of the shower started. He lit a cigarette and stepped outside.
A snowbird tweeted in the bush at the corner of the house at his interruption. He exhaled a stream of smoke, catching a glimpse of gray sky through the break in the clouds.
With evidence of the overcast weather, a chill settled on his bare upper body. He harrumphed, amused at himself. Josie had him paying attention to everything around him.
Almost every fucking morning, he would find her standing outside on the front step, watching the horizon for the sun coming up. It was her time. A ritual she needed in her life.
He'd discovered if he was quiet, she shared that calmness she gained by welcoming the morning with him before they both went their separate ways— her to Banks' Body Shop while he went to the clubhouse.
Their routine helped him stay sober. She always seemed to know when he was getting caught up in the past. She made him stronger.
Whip rounded the corner and headed toward the house. Paco took one more hit off the cigarette and tossed the butt in the coffee can full of sand by the step.
Today was a long time coming.
He and Whip had skirted the subject of trust for longer than he'd wanted. To move on, they needed to settle things now.
Whip parked in the driveway, backing his motorcycle up to the garage. His MC brother toed the kickstand and got off the bike, hanging his helmet on the handlebar.
Whip met his gaze, took in the lack of a vest, then took off his leather and draped it over the seat. Paco removed his Tarkio ring and pocketed the piece of jewelry.
The rage that normally dwelled inside of him, looking for any excuse to make an escape, was missing. He met Whip halfway in the yard. He had a point to make.
"Brother," said Whip.
Paco studied him for any sign of disloyalty. Whip had tied his hair back at his neck. The lines etched around his eyes were more