Closing my eyes, I let my body accept and feel. I’ve never experienced something like this before.

Fucking with feelings.

It’s something completely different to me, and I love it. I never want this to end. The way he fills me, the way he stretches me to the point of pain, it feels amazing.

I slip one of my hands from his neck to between us and begin to stroke my clit. He lets out a long moan when I do, and I can’t stop a smile from appearing on my lips.

“Are you going to come for me, sweets?” he asks. I shudder at his nickname for me, it’s absolutely sexy as shit, the way he rasps it.

His hips continue to thrust, his cock slamming inside of me and my back beating against the door in a rhythm that nobody could deny is pure, raw, primal fucking.

I’m so close to the edge, closing my eyes, I let myself relax and that’s when I come. It’s long, and hard, my body shaking as it locks up tightly, even my legs squeeze Motorhead’s waist so hard that I’m afraid I’m hurting him, but I can’t stop myself.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

His hips continue moving, using his strength to break through my own. He slams into me even harder until he lets out a roar and comes deep inside of me. His cock twitches as my pussy clenches and pulses, around him.

“Abe,” he whispers against my lips. I hum, unsure as to what he means. “If you’re going to be my Old Lady, you need to know my real name. It’s Abe.”

Letting my head fall back against the door, I lift my hand and slide my fingers through the side of his hair. “Abe,” I whisper.

He smirks and slowly glides himself in and out of me. His fingers gripping my waist tightly. “Like it when you say it. Never liked my name before,” he murmurs.

“Abe, it’s sexy, like you,” I admit.

He smirks, lowering his forehead to my own and inhales deeply. “You’re mine, Esme,” he states.

“I’m yours, Abe,” I whisper.

He sets me down, we hurry and clean up before we leave the bathroom. I start to tremble at the thought of going back out into the bar and seeing that man, and his lifeless body. Motorhead presses his palm against my back and together we walk into the bar.

I suck in a breath, holding it. I let it out when I realize that the place is not only clean, but everybody is just sitting around like it’s a regular, normal day. As if there wasn’t a murder that just took place here.

“Esme,” Traci calls as she hurries toward me.

She wraps me in a hug and asks if I’m okay in a whisper. I nod, unable to speak. The weight of what’s happened finally coming down on me again.

It was as if when we were in the bathroom, Abe and I were in our own little bubble. Now, it’s different, the real world is all around us again and I can feel myself beginning to panic.

“I’m okay,” I mutter.

She takes a step back from me and looks behind me, then makes eye contact again. “Did you guys finally stop dancing around?” she whispers.

I smile, although it’s a sad smile because I’m a little freaked out about everything that’s happening.

“Only danced around to give her time to acclimate to her new life. She’s been mine since the moment we met,” Motorhead announces, loudly and proudly.

My face heats at his words. I immediately feel both shy and embarrassed all at the same time. Traci smiles widely and lifts her chin. “Take her home, her shift’s done,” she announces.

I open my mouth to protest, but she holds her hand up. “You need time to process that scene, darlin’. I’m not making you work. Plus, you still have blood all over you, I got this.” I watch as she turns around and walks away from us.

Looking down at my shirt, I cringe. I do have blood all over me. “Motorhead,” a voice calls and my head snaps up.

Free is standing at the front door of the bar and lifts his chin before walking outside.

“Let’s go, sweets,” Motorhead grunts beside me. Together we walk out of the bar and toward Free, who is now standing beside his bike.

“Traci told me what happened, you have any idea who that fucker was before you went off half-cocked and slit his throat?” he asks, his voice hard and his facial features doing nothing to hide just how pissed off he is.

Motorhead grunts. “Don’t give a fuck who he was. I know what he wanted, and he wasn’t gonna get it. I know he was a sick piece of shit, and that’s all I needed to know.”

Free shakes his head. “Brother, you’ll never get promoted if you don’t use your head. Snake is not going to like this shit, especially the fact that you did it in public and in his goddamn bar,” he snaps.

Motorhead leans forward and he growls, his voice completely unrecognizable. “I gave him ample opportunities to leave. He was friends with Lucifer, he said he wasn’t going anywhere without Esme because she belonged to him somehow. Fuck that fucking shit. Nobody is taking my goddamn woman, or even threatens to take her.”

“Fuck,” Free hisses. “I thought Lucifer was some kind of lone fucked up mess. He had friends?” Free asks turning to me.

“He had friends,” I whisper.

Motorhead’s hand flexes against my back, and I hate that I’m being forced to even think about the past. I’ve been trying so hard to put it behind me. I’m not sure that it will ever be truly behind me, though. Not if shit like this asshole keeps popping up.