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“You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Boxer—”

“No, hear me out.” He paused and exhaled a long sigh. “I almost died from my appendix bursting. I got shot but didn’t die. I’ve been in fights with guys who’ve pulled knives and done shit on my bike you wouldn’t believe. You have to live, Linden. You have to take risks, because if you don’t, then you’ll wake up at the end of your life full of regrets, and a head full of dreams never lived, and that’s a lot worse than dying.”

“I’ve never had a relationship that’s lasted.”

“Then they weren’t the right ones.”

“My dad left me,” I said quietly. “That damage runs deep.”

“It says nothing about you, and everything abouthim. My old man’s shit isn’t my shit. My dad’s wounds aren’t my wounds.”

I bit my lip. “You’ll get sick of me.”

“Nah.”

“I’ll get sick of you.”

“Like hell you will,” he said with a grin.

“I’ll drive you crazy.”

“Without a doubt.”

“What if I try to run?” I asked in exasperation.

“I won’t let you.”

“What if you try to run?” I pivoted.

“We need each other, Linden.”

“What if—” His lips cut off what I’d been about to say by covering mine.

My mind was suddenly full of static, finally silenced, beaten into submission.

His hands dropped from my cheeks and then he stood. He grasped my hand and pulled me up. And then he kissed me like he’d never get another chance, like he needed me to be touching him so he could breathe.

My fingers tore through his hair and then he was hauling me toward the bedroom, his mouth fused to mine.

In our frenzied state, he bumped into the wall and then the doorway of the bedroom.

He flipped on the light and then let me go, but only so that he could quickly strip out of his clothes.

I did the same.

And then I was back in his arms, skin to skin. Warm. Alive.

He gently pushed me down onto the bed, and then he covered me with his body. Boxer spread my thighs and then he was deep inside me.

Our eyes locked.

Boxer thrust into me again and again, and the pleasure I felt between my legs spread through my body and up my spine.

I breathed in, smelling him, smelling us. His eyes were liquid silver, full of heat and want and something more.


Tags: Emma Slate Blue Angels Motorcycle Club Romance