POWERHOUSE

As I silently and with purpose carry her down the hallway, the odor of vomit permeates the air around us, reiterating the fact that she got sick earlier—she’s still got some residue staining her clothes, but right now, I don’t give that first fuck because she kept her head in the moment, got the girls hidden, and managed to stall for time without getting herself shot in the process.

She doesn’t know I know this, but Beckett told us that Sicily had both of her guns trained on Salem and was about to pull the trigger when he expertly tossed weapons through the air and ended her devious plan.

Alone in our room, without a pause in my steps, I move us to the bathroom, gently undress us both then guide her into the shower so I can bathe her. It’s not about sex at this point, I just need to be touching her wherever I can in order to push away the thoughts that she could’ve ended up in a pool of blood on the warehouse floor, which has been an ever-present loop that’s played through my mind since Beckett showed up at the lodge and grabbed us.

“I could’ve lost you today,” I murmur, laying my forehead on the top of her head, breathing her scent in. “I’ve never, in my entire life, been so damn petrified, Salem. Back in the day, I believed losing my mom was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but I was wrong. Losing you would wreck me. I don’t want to live one day without you at my side.”

“I’m here. I survived, I’m going to be okay, Cole. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn right, you're not,” I insist. I act on instinct and in the spur of the moment, dropping down to my knee, and grip her hands in mine while staring intimately into her eyes. Hoping through them she will see the array of emotions I’m feeling that my words don’t express. Now that I’m down here on bended knee, my tongue is tied and heavy weighted.

“What are you doing down there, Cole?”

“Hang on, sweetness, let me gather my thoughts.”

“O-okay,” she stutters.

Clearing the frog in my throat, I finally say, “I love you, Salem. I want you to be more than just my old lady. I want to share my last name and my future with you. I want you to carry my babies, I want to have that piece of paper between us that tells the entirety of the world you belong to me and vice versa. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms every damn night and wake each and every morning looking at your beautiful face. I want to join you in laughter when you're happy and hold you when you're sad. I’d like to support your dreams while helping you meet all of your life’s goals. Will you join your life with mine and ride out this crazy thing called life? Will you be mine in every way and marry me?”

“Yes, to everything,” she sobs, dropping down beside me and wrapping her arms around my neck. “I love you too, Cole. So much. I can’t imagine moving forward without you. I know this sounds cliché, but you complete me in every single way. I was half of a soul who was muddling her way through life while missing a fundamental piece of herself. You make me whole and happy, so yes, Cole, I will marry you, cherish you, and love you for the rest of our days.”

“Let’s get you washed up, Salem. I’m feral with the need to make love to you,” I confess my savage desire.

“Yes,” she purrs, her eyes alight and filled with wild passion. Lathering up the washcloth, I begin soaping her body with the suds, removing every morsel of the day’s events. She grabs the bar of soap and starts running it up my torso, down my arms, and everything between. When our skin is glistening, we start shampooing each other’s hair, only after we rinse, I go one step further and add conditioner to her long locks. While it sits in her hair, we make out like we’re teenagers, flirting, fondling, and seducing each other with simple brushes of our fingers and mouths.

As soon as the last strand is thoroughly rinsed, I shut off the water valve and step out of the shower, grabbing two towels and begin drying her off—one pebble of water at a time.

Once she’s been dried from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, I wrap the towel around her hair and repeat the process to myself. Picking up her bottle of lotion, I weave my fingers with hers and drag her back into the bedroom. As she towel dries her hair, I begin applying the lotion to her flesh. I start down low and work my way up, once I hit her nipples, I ensure they get thoroughly moisturized. I pluck, tug, and twirl my finger around the jutting nubs—giving them each a relentless amount of undivided attention so one doesn’t become irrationally jealous of the other.

During this, Salem lifts on the tips of her toes, arching her back, and digging her fingers into my scalp. “Cole.”

“Get on the bed and lay on your stomach, Salem. I need to put lotion on your backside.”

As she twists her body to go and hop onto the bed, I smack her plump ass. “Damn, babe. Your ass looks mighty appetizing to this starving man.”

“Ugh, don’t tease me like that, Cole. I’m already teetering on the edge and hanging on a fine line here, working hard to be patient because I want to toss you on this bed and ride you like an untamed stallion.”

“I’ll lotion you later,” I quip, lifting her up and tossing her on the bed, crawling up after her. Ripping the towel from my waist, I toss it haphazardly onto the floor not giving a single fuck where it lands.

SALEM

Cole doesn’t allow me to lay on the bed, instead, he flops on his back, grabs a hold of my hips, and maneuvers me to where I’m straddling him. “Ride me, baby.”

Needing him inside of me like one needs oxygen to live, I mount him. I lift up while he aligns his dick with my opening, and I let gravity do its thing and slide down his length. Once my ass is level with his pelvis, I gyrate my hips as I accommodate to his endowment, eliciting a masculine growl from him and a pleased moan from me.

Lifting up a fraction of an inch, I slide back down, his fingertips dig into my sides as he hisses, “More, Salem. Dear fucking God, move.”

“Yes, sir,” I gasp, lifting up to where the crown of his dick dances with my opening before I slither back down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Gyrate. Swivel, and repeat. My fingers dig into his abs as I grab for something to help steady myself.

“Fuck,” he moans out, lifting and thrusting his own hips on my downward movement to add more delicious friction. I can feel my release building as I continue my gyrations while adding a few pelvic squeezes to enhance both of our pleasure.

“Killing me,” I murmur when he moves one hand to rest at my center before he starts stroking his thumb across my clit.

“Babe, you gotta go soon before I blow,” he warns. “I’m doing what I can to hold it off because you’re supposed to go first, but you feel so fucking good, and I need this to know you’re alive and in my arms. Get there, Salem. Now!”

His command sets off the spark that causes my orgasm to detonate. As I keen out his name, he takes over, gripping both hips and pistoning upward while pulling me down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants over and over before he stills after slamming me down onto his dick. “Salem!” he bellows as his own release hits. I can feel him pulsing inside me, filling me to the brim.

As I slump onto his chest, trying to catch my breath, his arms wrap around me after pulling up the covers. “Love you,” I whisper, kissing his lips.

“Love you more and quite honestly, I know I need to clean you up, but right now, I gotta have this, babe. The fear I felt earlier knowing what almost happened to you has me wanting to stay right here, buried inside of your hot pussy, sticky mess be damned.”

“You’re such a romantic,” I tease.

We stay in bed for the next twenty-four hours reconnecting, making love, talking, and planning out the rest of our lives. We’ve decided to keep my house and make it our forever marital home.

There are some parts that Cole wants to update, renovate, and some woodwork he’d like to refurbish. He wants to add to the measurement of my house and include a garage to hold his manly tools, motorcycle, and things to the back and let me keep the shed to house all of my mementos and keepsakes from my parents.

He’s been sketching some blueprints so that I understand what he’s wanting to do. As he goes to explain the dimensions, my stomach lets out a horrendous growl.

“I’ve been neglecting your needs while holding you hostage, haven’t I?”

“No, Cole. I’ve wanted to be right here. We’ve been snacking and keeping hydrated, I just need something more substantial is all.”

Cole leans over, twists his alarm clock, and takes in the time. “It’s one o’clock, lunch has probably already been served and put away, but I’m sure we can forage through the fridge and find something nutritious. We’ll have to dig our way more toward the back to get to the good shit. The guys like to hoard stuff for later.”

“Well, let’s go invade their stash,” I say, giggling.

* * *

When we get to the kitchen, Gunner is sitting at the table, his head propped up on his fists as he stares into a mug of coffee. When he notices us, he scoots out a chair and indicates that I should take a seat.

Once I do, he begins speaking, “I’m sorry, Salem, that you got caught in the middle of the club’s bullshit.”

Reaching across the table, I place my hand over his that’s holding on to the coffee cup. “It’s not club shit, Gunner, it’s family shit, and I’m family. Right?”

“That you are, darlin’,” he says in full agreement.

“There’s something I forgot to mention the other day when we were talking,” I admit, feeling awkward that I let something like this slip from my mind.

“What’s that?” he asks, his tone soft and reassuring.

“Sicily said something, and with everything that happened, it slipped my mind. I’m sorry, Gunner.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Salem. What did she say that made you so concerned?”

“I’m going to quote her word for word,” I announce. Once he nods his head for me to continue, I repeat her words. “If you survive, tell Gunner that the Crumley brothers are coming for his club. He needs to sleep with one eye open at all times.”

Gun’s response is a swift, and terrifying one. “I’d like to see them try. I’ll gut them like a fish and mount their heads on pikes. I don’t want you to worry about this, Salem. They won’t terrorize my family any longer, I’m going to ruin them.”

“Damn straight we are,” Cole deadpans.

A quiver of fear traverses up and down my spine. I’m not scared of them, I know I’m safe with them, but their promise of retribution, the dead look in their eyes says that they’re not only out for blood, no, they're dead set on taking the Crumley brothers’ lives.

May God have mercy on their already dead and corrupted souls.