I’ve heard of the morning after regrets, but I’ve never allowed myself to have them. I’m having them now—although probably not the same kind that everyone talks about. I can’t believe I told Zander all of that last night. Why? Why would I do that? I’ve never told another person that, not even Nicole.

I wake up alone in bed. I panic at first. Maybe I gave too much away and Zander cut his losses. I’ve kind of been expecting that, so it wouldn’t be a surprise. Then I hear noises coming from downstairs. Happiness and fear swamp me at the same time. I have to fight the urge to pull the covers over my head and pretend nothing happened last night. I’ve run away enough though. I force myself up and run to brush my teeth and clean up a little.

In the bathroom, the strangest sensation hits me. I see Zander’s toothbrush next to mine. It’s silly and shouldn’t mean anything, but as I touch it, I feel warm—happy. I’m still grinning as I finish brushing my teeth and sliding on a clean pair of panties under Zander’s t-shirt. I run a brush through my hair and just pull it up in a ponytail. Then, I make my way downstairs.

Zander is standing at the stove…cooking. He’s wearing his jeans and nothing else. I might be slightly twisted, but the sight of him barefoot in my kitchen I find…sexy.

“I thought the woman was supposed to cook,” I say, because I feel awkward staring at him with my tongue hanging out and nothing to say.

“Sweetheart, you’re a hell of a woman, but you can’t cook worth shit.”

I smile, because really, he’s not lying. I never had to cook. Michael had personal chefs and Nicole was freaking Betty Crocker. I do have one secret, I wonder what he would say if I told him I could mix any drink known to man and make some that he’s never heard of that would knock his socks off? Probably nothing it’s not a great talent, I suppose.

“Is it manly for a biker to cook?”

“When it’s me? Definitely.”

He has a point, because when he turns to the side and winks at me I look down that delicious tatted chest, over those washboard abs, and finally to the ‘v’ indentions on his side and notice the button on his pants is left undone, I’m instantly aroused—weak in the knees even.

“Hellcat, if you don’t get that look off your face we’re not going to be having breakfast anytime soon.”

“What are we having?”

“Bacon and eggs,” he replies, turning back around.

“Well, I’d be alright with waiting then…,” I answer him.

He turns around, looking at me, and his eyes rake over me intently. Then he pushes the skillet he’s working with off the burner and turns it off. He wipes his hand on a dish towel before throwing it on the kitchen table I’m standing beside.

“Are you sure you’re up for it, Hellcat? You had a bad night last night.”

I feel heat hit my face. I don’t really want to talk about it, but I force myself to not back down.

“I miss you,” I answer honestly.

His rough, callused fingertip brushes along the side of my face. The scratchy feeling, combined with the heated look in his eyes sets my pulse to racing.

“God, you’re beautiful.” his gruff voice dances over me and when he’s looking at me like that, I believe it—or at least believe he feels that way.

“Does this mean we’re going to have bacon and eggs later?” I ask, dying to have him inside of me again. He’s a drug, and I’m completely addicted.

“Undress for me, Hellcat,” he tells me, standing back with his ankles crossed, his arms are folded and he’s leaning back against the stove. He looks every inch the cocky male that I should run from, but instead, I’m completely captured by this man. I have a moment of nerves before I lift his shirt up and throw it on the floor, leaving me standing in nothing but a pair of purple boy-cut panties.

“Those too, Dani.”

I swallow nervously, but peel them down, and kick them next to the shirt. He walks towards me. He reminds me of a jungle cat on the prowl. My heart kicks up, because I know I’m the one he is stalking.

“Do you know what upset me the most about last night, Hellcat?” he asks. One of his hands starts along my ribs and travels down to my hip. His other hand is playing with the ends of my hair, and he uses a finger to trace along my collarbone.

“What?” I ask, and my voice comes out breathless, my knees feel weak, and I feel these tiny electrical charges zapping all over my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“That you would think I would choose Carrie, over you. Hell, picking anyone over you would be stupid. Do you think I’m a stupid man, Hellcat?”

One finger slowly trails under the swell of my breast, and I hiss at the excitement churning inside me.

“She’d be a better choice for you,” I answer honestly.

He pinches my nipple hard, and I gasp, from the sting of pain. I should hate it, but I feel moisture gather between my legs.

“Do you think I’m a stupid man, Hellcat?” he asks again.

“I’m broken, Zander,” I finally tell him with complete honesty.

He leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. My hands come up to hold his head, my fingers tighten in his dark mane. He releases it, and the popping sound blends with my moan of pleasure. He slowly begins kissing down my stomach, sliding to his knees in front of me. He places small, sweet kisses on my waist and stomach, his tongue following the path. When he comes to my belly button, his tongue flicks in and out of it before biting into the delicate skin. My knees threaten to buckle. His hands grab my hips, and he looks up at me, his eyes look like pools of dark ink—intense…all consuming.

“Why are there no scars, sweetheart?” It wasn’t what I expected, and I feel the urge to shrink back inside myself. I fight it off. I can do this.

“It’s amazing what the right doctors and money can do.”

His eyes hold mine, but he doesn’t reply. I’m so focused on watching his face and on waiting for his reply that I don’t expect his fingers to push inside of me, and I gasp at the welcomed shock.

“My Hellcat is already wet for me.”

“Zander,” I moan, as he pushes against my leg to make me widen my stance.

“You didn’t answer me earlier. Do you think I’m stupid?”

As he asks the question, at least two of his fingers are moving slowly in and out of me, and his other hand is spreading my pussy open for him. The cool breeze of the ceiling fan hits my sensitive skin and combines with his hot breath as the chill spreads through my system. I moan from the excitement building inside. Zander pulls me in and weaves a spell around me. He makes me someone I don’t even recognize, but someone I want to keep being…His.

He flattens his tongue out against my pussy and licks me, just once. He finishes by flicking his tongue on my clit and thrusting his fingers hard inside of me.

“So good, Zander. God, you’re so good.”

In response, he sucks my throbbing clit into his mouth, traps it between his teeth, and then bites.

I jump at the unexpected pain. I start to complain, but he soothes it with his tongue. He stops his fingers though, and I moan at the loss.

“You didn’t answer, Hellcat. Do you think I’m stupid?”

I look at him confused. I feel like if he doesn’t continue soon I’m going to combust.

“No…”

“Who did I claim, Dani?”

“Me…”

“Good girl,” he says, getting up. I want to beg him not to stop, but I’m so drugged with desire and confusion, I can do nothing but watch him.

He sits down at the table, pulling his chair back. He looks at me expectantly.

“What…?” I ask, because he keeps looking at me like I should be doing something.

“Get up on the table and give me breakfast woman,” he orders.

“Me…On the table?”

“I’m going to spread you out on this table. I’m going to eat your sweet little pussy until you fuck my face so hard you come all over it. I’m not going to stop until you admit that you’re mine and realize that I don’t want any other woman, but you.”

“Zander,” I try to interrupt, but he doesn’t let me.

“And finally, I’m going to give you my dick and fuck you hard. I’m not going to stop until you understand once and for all that the only fucking reason you’re not wearing my cut and my name is because you’re the one not ready, and after hearing about your past—I get that. Still, you gave me your body, and you’re giving me more. So, I can wait, because I know what I want—I got what I want, right here. Now, get your fucking ass on this table and give me my breakfast.”

His words hit me. I mean they hit me. Everything that he says, all that he says, pierces me and lodges deep inside. It hits in spots that have been so empty, so raw, and alone for so long, I thought they were dead. I have what I want, right here. How is it that seven words can rock the foundation of your whole world, but make you feel like you could fly at the same time? I love this man. I’ve only loved four people in my entire life; my mom, Nic, Ray and now…Zander. I love him. It scares me, it terrifies me, but his words give me courage. Courage, because I know he means them, and I trust him. I trust him completely.

So, even though my legs are shaking, I walk to him. I slide up on the kitchen table and sit in front of him.

“Lay back, Hellcat,” he orders, making no effort to move. His voice brusque and demanding.

I do as he tells me, bringing my knees up and bracing the bottoms of my feet on the table. I hear a chair scrape against the floor, and then his hands are pulling my legs up on his shoulders. I barely have time to adjust before his face pushes against my pussy and he starts tasting, licking, and eating me as if he were a dying man, and I was the only thing that could save his life.

It’s an apt analogy, because he is saving me…one broken piece at a time.

I love him.