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“Miss me?” he asked with a knowing grin.

Before I could reply, a cell rang and all the guys searched for their phones. It was Zip’s. “I gotta take this,” he said, striding to the front door, his eyes glued to the screen.

I briefly wondered if it was Joni, but then I turned my attention back to the man whose name was tattooed on my skin.

We stared at one another, but didn’t move. I was sure that once I was in his arms I’d never want to leave.

“And that’s my cue. We’ll be at the diner for a while,” Boxer said. “Happy humping.”

The door shut and Colt secured the room. Then he was turning to me, his eyes dark, his steps predatory.

A while later, I rolled off of him and collapsed onto the bed. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

“What do you want now?” I asked him. “Food or sleep?”

“Food.” His stomach rumbled in obvious agreement. “Let’s have a quick shower and then you can buy me a burger. I can sleep later.”

I grinned. “Get the shower going. I’ll be right there. I just want to check my phone for messages first.”

When I tried to get out of bed, he grabbed my arm and brought my lips to his for another long, drugging kiss.

“Don’t take too long.” His voice was husky and his eyes glittered with promise.

I shivered. How could I want him again after I’d just been with him? “I thought sex was supposed to dwindle when a couple settled down.”

He let out a chuckle and rose from the bed like a hulking bear. “For most people, I’m sure it does. Not us. I won’t let it. Now check your messages and then get your sweet ass in the shower.”

“Sweet ass? God, you’re a regular Roman poet.”

“You don’t like me for my poetry. You like me because you know where you stand with me. Don’t you?”

“I do.”

His gaze softened. “I’m glad you were able to change my mind.”

“About what? About coming to Odessa with you?”

Colt shook his head. “About thinking there wasn’t a woman in the world who’d put up with my shit.”

It wasn’t poetry. But it was honest, and heartfelt, and vulnerable.

“I love you,” I said quietly. “Did I tell you that today?”

“No. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

He smiled. “Good.”

“You’re supposed to say it back. You can say it in biker language if it makes you feel less like a sap.”

Colt laughed, and the somberness banished from his eyes. “Love you, Mia. No one else for me. I want you in my bed, on the back of my bike, and one day, a ring on your finger.”

“One day, I’d like that too.”

“Yeah?”

I shook my head. “I don’t get it.”


Tags: Emma Slate Blue Angels Motorcycle Club Romance