Roar & Lizzy
He set her up straight and turned her head. “Is that why you’re holding back? Do you think since I had you, I’m done?”
“Do you want me to prove I want you?” He trailed his fingers down her jaw and dawdled on her neck. “Right here?”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.” She moistened her lips. “I’m not like you and your club. When I have sex, I like it to stay between you and me.”
His gaze intensified and he dipped his face closer to her. “If there were a chance you’d lose me tomorrow, would you not want to make love to me today?”
The way his voice grew huskier and more singsong had her vagina dancing. She couldn’t figure out if he were sweetness poised as a Norwegian biker or giving her a line of bullshit.
“That’s not funny.” She pushed against him to get off his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, not letting her go.
“I’m not laughing.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “No one knows what will happen. Not you. Not me. I would show you how I felt, regardless if someone was watching because it’s important that you know how I feel.”
The sentiment was endearing, but it brought her back to the worry that what happened within his club was more dangerous than he let on. Slag Motorcycle Club had more going on than running the bar.
“Where did you go today?” she asked, dropping the subject of sex.
He sighed and leaned back, gathering her hands in his. “I went up into Washington and visited another Motorcycle Club.”
“Why not?” He brought her hands to his lips. “Clubs gather, work together, and keep in touch. Much like friends do in your life.”
She studied him. It was a cookie cutter answer, and she needed to know more.
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