His belt buckle was cool, a little chilly kiss against her skin. And then the heel of her hand brushed against the growing bulge beneath his leathers, and Trey bucked.
“Beth, you’re playing with fire.”
“I know,” she said, slipping the tail of his belt free from the buckle. “I know because I’m getting hot.”
He laughed a little at her line, but the mirth quickly turned into a sexy moan as her fingers seized the catch of his zipper.
The soft rasp of it seemed loud in the quiet of the room, accompanying breathing that was becoming rougher with each passing second.
Lifting his hips for her, Trey watched as she pulled his leathers down his legs. His gaze was heavy on her as she bit her lip and reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Her breath caught as she revealed his hard, proud length. His cock stood rigid, his sac pushed close to the base by the elastic waistband of his underwear.
A rush of heat and moisture flooded her core, and she slipped from the bed to kneel in front of him.
“Trey,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down the strong muscles of his thighs, careful to avoid the bandaged cut on his left one, “I want to taste you.”
He closed his eyes for a second, then nodded.
Feeling like a siren temptress, she reached forward and wrapped her fingers around his length. Hot, silky, smooth, he felt so good, so right against her palm. Moisture sprang to the tip, the flared head becoming shiny as she gently stroked his cock.
This was heaven. Being with him, showing him with every move how she felt about him…
It was all she’d ever wanted.
His body tensed and relaxed, hips rolling slightly with each movement she made. Watching him was pure delight. It was almost as if he were her marionette, and her every movement was connected to his body. If she moved faster, he reacted more. But even her slow movements drew delicious moans and deep growls from him.
She licked her lips as she bent forward until her breath was blowing across the damp head of him.
“Beth,” he growled, lifting his hips slightly. His cock’s head brushed her lower lip, and he cursed. “I want to fuck your mouth.”
“Keep still,” she chastised him, squeezing gently around the base of his shaft with one hand and sweeping her other thumb over the slick, plumlike head. “This is on my time.”
His heat was intense in her mouth, across her tongue, as the sweet tangy taste of his precum hit her taste buds. His silky, velvety skin felt amazing on her lips as she drew him deep, then let him pop free of her mouth.
His hardness glistened with the moisture her mouth had left behind, and she blew a soft breath across it. He shivered.
God, she loved how he made her feel. Powerful. Strong. Able to affect him as deeply as he affected her.
Her body was throbbing with need, but she wasn’t finished tasting him.
Over and over she drew him deep into her mouth, the flared head smoothing over her tongue to bump the back of her throat. His girth made her gag once or twice, the involuntary movements contorting her muscles around him.
His hips flexed with her movements, thrusting in time. He grew harder inside her mouth, tangling one hand into her hair as her head bobbed up and down on his erection.
Bethany closed her eyes and swallowed him as deeply as she could.
“Fuck,” he said, and his cock jerked inside her mouth. “I can’t… Beth, stop.”
She lifted her head, licking her lips as she looked at him.
“I need you,” he said, reaching down and lifting her against him. “Right now, I need to be inside that beautiful body of yours.”
* * *
He reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a condom from his wallet.
Thank Christ he’d come prepared.
His hands trembled as he put that condom on faster than he ever had before. His blood was roaring behind his ears, his skin hot and prickling and so incredibly alive with the need to possess her.
This was more than sex. Somehow, this was a marking. A declaration. A union of more than bodies.
She’d taken his soul, even if she didn’t know it. It belonged to her.
She lay back on the bed, spreading her thighs wide, eyes hungry as she reached down and parted her core for him.
The sight of her naked, glistening pink folds almost made him come. He closed his eyes against the deliciously tempting sight and fell to the bed.
Bracing his weight above her, he looked down at her wide, hungry eyes. “Are you ready?”
He didn’t know what the hell he would do if her answer was no.
He didn’t have to worry.
“Take me, please,” she whispered.
Surging forward, he sheathed himself to the hilt.
She cried out, her head thrashing against the pillows as he started pounding into her immediately.
Over and over, he plunged into her depths. The hot, slick channel gripped him and eased his way, pulling him deeper, farther inside her.
The way her muscles spasmed around him, gripping the aching, sensitive head of his cock, the way her sweet, white teeth sank into his shoulder, the way her clean-scented blond hair tickled his nose as he buried his head in her pillow…
This was too much. Beth was too much. She’d sucked him good, so good. It made him want to bury his face in her beautiful body again, to let his tongue find all her secret folds, to taste that sweet, womanly tang that was all Beth, only his Beth.
“God, Trey!” Her voice was half breath, half cry. Their bodies smacked together, the sweet, wet sounds of their movements driving them harder, faster toward that peak.
“Please,” she begged, fingertips digging into his back. “Please, I need to come, please…”
He looked into her eyes, wide, wild, so blue the sight made him ache. There was so much written there, so many feelings and thoughts, and he wanted to know every one of them.
This was enough. It had to be enough.
“Come on, Strong Girl,” he said, then reached between them to find her clit.
At the first touch of his fingers on that sensitive nub of flesh, she arched her back, shuddering cries ripping through her, inner muscles spasming around his aching hardness sheathed deep inside her.
He lost control, the hot spurts of his orgasm finally escaping into the welcoming grip of her body. Trembling with the effort of keeping himself still as the waves overtook Bethany, Trey could only breathe as his own climax ripped through him.
Her skin was damp now, as was his, and he braced himself on his forearms, never losing the connection with her gaze.
There was so much more than sex there. So many moments condensed into one, the culmination of the past and the promise of the future coalesced into this moment.
Together. That’s all he needed. To be together with her.
* * *
Waking up in Trey’s arms was the most wonderful way Bethany could imagine spending a morning.
“Hmmm,” he groaned, his chest rumbling deeply against her ear. She smiled, nuzzling the sprinkling of hair that covered his pec.
“Morning,” she said, her bare leg sliding between his.
“Morning.” He wrapped his arm around her hip and gave her ass a squeeze.
Her body was achy, sore. Delicious memories assailed her as she rubbed her palm up and down his back.
He’d been ravenous and tender, sweet and fierce in turn, and she’d loved it. He’d left no part of her body unexplored, and she’d been overjoyed to return the favor.
Never had anyone taken her the way Trey did, and never had anyone given himself to her the way Trey had.
Last night had been more than sex—it was a communion of souls that she was convinced she could only experience with him. With this man.
“I love you,” she whispered soundlessly into the skin of his chest, secure in the knowledge that he couldn’t hear her. But she had to say it, silent though it was.
She closed her eyes and held him tight. She never, ever wanted to let him go.
Trey. She loved this man.
He had only started to stir to wakefulness when her phone started buzzing on the bedside table. She was completely content to ignore it, but Trey reached for it.
“It’s Mrs. Yelverton,” he said, handing her the phone.
She frowned and swiped the answer key. It was still kind of early for a phone call from Mama Yelverton.
“Hello?”
“Oh, Bethany, we’ve got a problem.” Mama Yelverton, normally such a calm, confident woman, sounded completely unglued.
“What’s going on?” Bethany sat bolt upright, the covers falling to her waist.
“The farmhouse we booked for the wedding burned down. There was an event last night, and some drunken guest set the place on fire with a cigarette. The whole place went up. The wedding is in three weeks, and we don’t have a venue.”
Bethany plastered her hand over her eyes. Oh God.
“It’s okay. Don’t panic,” she told Mama Yelverton.
Trey looked at her, a furrow between his brows at her words, but she waved him away.
“But the invitations have gone out! We’ll have to contact everyone, sign a new contract, and everywhere will be triple-booked because of the time of year!”
“It’s okay. I’ll work on it today.”
“I’ll call Trey as soon as it’s ten. I didn’t want to bother him so early. I don’t know what time he gets up.”
Bethany looked beside her to where Trey had just stood up from the bed. He stretched, giving her a beautiful view of his muscular back and ass, covered with a generous number of tattoos.
“I’ll contact Trey, and we’ll make a plan. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”
Mama Yelverton didn’t sound convinced, but she allowed Bethany to end the call anyway.
Trey exited the bathroom, frowning. “Is everything okay?”
She crossed the room and held him for a long moment without saying anything.
His hand cupped the back of her head, the other sweeping down her back.
She didn’t want to leave this room. This little haven of peace they’d found in the midst of all the turmoil. It felt like leaving the Banks and heading back to Raleigh would pull them apart when she’d only just managed to get this close to him.
“Beth?”
She sighed and looked up at him. “Reality calls.”
* * *
Beth’s voice was remarkably calm as she relayed the latest wedding disaster to Trey, but there was a clear sense of panic in the way she rushed around the room getting dressed.
He wished like hell he really was who he’d said he was. Someone who knew what to do with the wedding. Someone who could fix everything for Bethany so she wouldn’t have to worry.
But he wasn’t. He’d lied. And now he had to juggle who he’d said he was with who he really was—the head of a biker gang who was about to go to all-out war with a circle of drug dealers.
He frowned as he walked down the hall after Bethany, a weight on his shoulders that pressed harder with every step toward home.
The night before had been amazing—wrapped up in Bethany’s arms like nothing could touch them.
But in the cold, harsh light of the morning, he saw how precious, fragile, and brief those moments had been.
Even all the love in his heart for her couldn’t stop their reality—that they were so, so different.
“Are you okay?”
He stopped in mid-motion, his motorcycle helmet held between his hands. Bethany had already put hers on, and as she stood beside his motorcycle, her shaded eyes held unspoken worry.
He forced a smile onto his face. “I’m fine. Just thinking about what to do about the venue.”
Bethany sighed as he buckled the strap on his helmet. “I don’t know. That farmhouse was perfect. It was exactly the kind of place Sarah wanted. She’d be miserable with a church wedding, but where are we going to find another place big enough on this short notice?”
Trey started to answer, but his cell buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it free and looked down at the screen.
The text was from Wolf.
Where are you? We’ve got trouble.
“Damn it,” Trey said under his breath as he unlocked the screen to tap out a reply.
“Everything okay?” Bethany asked.
“Fine,” he said shortly as he typed.
I’m out of town. Be back in a few hours. What’s going on?
Wolf hit him back in a matter of moments.
Jameson’s missing. He didn’t come back home after tailing Rat. Not answering texts. I’m thinking he might have gone after Hampton.
Trey gripped the phone so tightly that his knuckles cracked around it.
He’d told Jameson to wait. Why couldn’t that idiot have listened? Thinking quickly, he replied.
Get everyone who’s free to start looking for him. Do not confront anybody without contacting me first. If Jameson’s in the tank, leave him there till I get back.
With the text sent, Trey shoved his phone back in his pocket. His thoughts awhirl, he slung his leg over the bike and cranked the engine.
Suddenly, slender arms wrapped around his middle as a warm, soft weight settled on the bike saddle behind him.
His tension eased as he closed his eyes and leaned back into her just a little.
“We’ll get it figured out,” Bethany said, her voice soft in his ear. “Don’t worry.”
If she only knew… He wished things were as simple as needing a new place for Sarah’s wedding.
It was way more screwed up than that.
“Yeah. It’ll be fine.”
She pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder as he walked the bike out of the parking space and headed toward the exit.
Things were nowhere near that simple. And since there weren’t three Treys to handle the three facets of his current life—the biker Trey, the wedding Trey, and the Trey who wanted to do nothing but crawl into bed beside Bethany and stay there forever—he’d have to figure out how to juggle it all.
The ocean breeze grabbed at them as he sped toward home, spurring his desperate fear that his grip on everything wouldn’t be sufficient to keep things from breaking.
His mind was so wrapped up in all the things competing for his attention that he drove home on autopilot. Time passed, but it did so without his attention.
The only thing that kept pulling him back into the moment was the sure grip around his midsection. The tiny adjustments she made, the way she sat up and stretched when they stopped at a light. The warm circle of her arms around his waist when they resumed their journey.
God, he’d fallen so hard, and he had no clue what to do with that.
As trees gave way to more and more homes and businesses, there was no escaping the reality that their little escape was over. Once they hit the Raleigh city limits, he steeled his resolve and nosed his bike toward Bethany’s apartment.
With any luck, Grandma would leave Beth alone.
He put his bike in the same parking spot beside Beth’s car that they’d peeled out of yesterday. It seemed like ages ago now.
The quiet around them was deafening when Trey finally cut his bike’s engine.
“God,” Beth said, sitting back on the saddle and pulling the helmet from her head. She ran her hands along the crown of her hair, shaking it out as she bent to the side. “After the last two days, I’m not sure I can walk straight for a while.”
Trey smiled wryly. “Take a hot shower. It’ll help ease your sore muscles.”
Bethany climbed off the bike, then turned to look at him. Trey hadn’t moved.
“Are you not coming in?”
Trey shook his head. “No, I’ve got to do some things.”
Bethany frowned slightly. “Is it work? Or are you trying to find somewhere else for the wedding?”
He’d have to try to do both.
“Don’t worry about my work. It’s fine. I’ll scout out some places today and get back with you.”
“Are you sure? If your job needs you—”
Trey nodded, shifting his weight on the bike. “Yeah, no worries. I can handle it.”
“Okay,” she said, a note of doubt in her voice.
“C’mere.”
She leaned over, taking his outstretched hand, and he pulled her close. Brushing a fierce, possessive kiss over her lips, Trey tried to channel all his feelings through that brief, commanding touch.
She swayed as he let go.
“It’ll be all right, Strong Girl,” he said and cranked his bike’s engine.
As he pulled away, he looked at her in his mirror.
Her eyes were wide and a little sad, her arms wrapped tightly over her middle as she watched him go.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that the heights they’d ascended last night were the end of something—something that had only just begun.
Shaking off the melancholy, he steeled his resolve and headed toward Ruby’s.
He had to find his brother. The idea that Jameson had gone off half-cocked was bothering him. After that last incident with Vinnie, Trey didn’t trust Jameson’s judgment.
For some reason, Cady’s death was hanging heavier than usual around him lately. And a wounded animal was the most dangerous kind.
In the early afternoon, Ruby’s was fairly deserted. But Trey found who he needed only moments after walking through the door.
“Hey, Trey,” Ginger said with a smile. One of Lynn’s kids was sitting at the table in the corner, coloring. Trey waved at the little girl, who smiled shyly at him. “What can I do for you?”
“Have you seen Jameson since last night?”
Ginger’s smile faltered a little. “You haven’t talked to Wolf?”
“He texted me this morning.” Trey reached for his pocket. The screen showed several missed calls and texts. He hadn’t even noticed.
Ginger bit her lip as Trey looked up at her.
“What is it?”
“It’s not good.”