CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

The door to the room opened, and AJ turned from the bed to see Undertaker walk in. He was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. He was sweaty and breathing hard. He paused by the bed, drinking long swallows from a water bottle, his smiling eyes on her.

“Morning,” she murmured. “How was your run?”

“Not bad. You know… I’m finding a long run helps clear my mind.” He lifted the hem of his shirt and wiped his face, revealing his abs and the ink along his skin. She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping to take it all in.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m more of a yoga girl.”

His eyes swept over her as he tipped the water bottle up again. The corner of the sheet covered her torso, but her curves and long legs were revealed. “Well, whatever you’re doin’, it’s workin’.”

She grinned.

“How long you been awake?”

“For about five minutes. The first four and a half minutes I spent trying to figure out where I was and why the room was moving.”

“You don’t remember last night?” He pulled his shirt off and wiped the sweat from his chest and neck.

Her eyes followed the trail of hair that led teasingly into the top of his sweats. She remembered every minute, but she couldn’t help teasing him. “I remember parts of it.”

“Which parts?” He leaned over her, planting his hands on the mattress on either side of her and dipping his head to kiss her mouth then trail along her neck and lower. “You remember this part? How about this part?”

She giggled, leaning into his touch.

He drew back to search her eyes. “And now? Glad you’re here?”

She lifted her arms to loop them around his neck. “Very glad.”

“Good.”

“Derek, we talked about a lot last night, but we didn’t talk about what comes next. We just fell into bed before we could get to that.” She met his eyes. “What does come next?”

“Whatever we want. Whatever you want.”

“I have a successful practice, a life much different from the one you lead.”

“No, you have a safe, predictable, boring existence, filled completely with work. Is that really all you want, Allie? Are you that scared of what this could be?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Good. Come on. I’m not done with you yet.” He scooped her up and carried her to the shower.

 

***

 

Undertaker studied the wanton beauty in his shower. Could this be the same woman who had been so shy when he’d first led her to his room?

She tilted her head and moaned as hot water ran over her face and down her back. Undertaker’s eyes dropped to her glistening breasts. He poured body wash into his hands and rubbed them together until he had a lathering of suds, then he ordered her to turn around.

Her eyes met his, but she did as he asked. His soapy hands glided down her throat and arms and took their time with her breasts—soaping, squeezing, lifting… When he’d given them the attention they deserved, his hands drifted down her belly and finally between her legs. He loved how she leaned against him and melted in his touch. She widened her stance and let him run his fingers over the sensitive folds, bringing her up on her toes, moaning.

“You sore, baby?”

“Just a little tender.”

He turned her around.

While his hands roamed her body, she tangled her fingers in his hair. Then she did as he had, slowly and gently exploring his body. She started with his shoulders, sliding her hands over his wet skin, kissing his flesh where the water had rinsed the soap away.

His eyes followed her as she moved down his arms, his chest, tracing his tattoos, then down between his pecs to his abs, kissing her way down each side. He tensed, but she ignored his cock. Rising, she pressed her tits against him and cupped his ass.

“Are you glad you came with me last night?” he asked.

She grinned. “Very.”

“I’m glad, too. I know so much more about you.”

She frowned. “Like what?”

“I know the way you arch your back when I play with your nipples. I know the way your stomach trembles when I find your g-spot, and I know the little whimpering sounds you make when you come.”

She couldn’t deny any of it, and he was glad she didn’t try. The way she looked right now, with her hair in a wet tangle down her back and her eyes wide, made him instantly hard.

She flicked her tongue over her lower lip, and all he could picture were those lips wrapped around his cock and that tongue stroking him. He went rock hard at the thought. Pushing her down on the wooden shower bench, he cupped her chin and ordered, “Open for me, babe.”

She did, taking him deep. Her tongue stroked the underside as he fisted his hands in her hair and began thrusting in and out of her mouth. He couldn’t hold back the moans and grunting that rumbled up from his chest. She was good.

He loved the way she took him, looking up at him, holding back nothing, letting him take control.

It wasn’t long before she whimpered, and those sexy sounds pushed him right over the edge.

His heavy breathing escalated, and he ground out her name just before he pulled back from her lips, gripped his shaft, and pumped, spewing ejaculate onto her heaving chest.

“Fuck, baby.” He rested his palm on the tile, holding his body up as his energy left him.

She looked down at her chest, and he tugged her to her feet, laughing. “Guess I need to start over with the soap.

She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed it all over him. They tussled and wrestled until he pinned her to the tile and poured a squirt of body wash all over her chest as she shrieked, “It’s cold!”

When he finished washing her top to bottom again, she insisted. “I’ve got work. I’ve got to get dressed.”

He chuckled, drying her with a towel. “As if I’d let you put on clothes.”

 

***

 

“Hey, baby. What are you doing?” Undertaker sat on his parked bike, squinting up the street into the setting sun. Ten hours without AJ and he was already itching to see her.

“Just got home a little while ago.”

“Come outside.”

He could hear the happiness in her voice as she asked, “Are you here?” The curtain was tugged to the side, and she peered out the glass. The lace dropped back into place and then the door was opening. She jogged down the steps and across the walk to him.

He caught her against him as her arms slid around his shoulders and her lips pressed to his. The kiss was sweet, tinged with a barely concealed hunger. He recognized it, because since the day she’d walked into his clubhouse, he’d felt it, too.

Finally, she broke the kiss, pulling back to smile into his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Came for some more of that,” he admitted.

“Oh you have, have you?”

“That and to take you for a ride. Come on.”

“Where to?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No.”

He lifted his chin toward her place. “Go lock up.”

She did as he said, then joined him a minute later, climbing on the back of his bike. Her arms slid around him and it felt good. Pulling away from the curb with her holding tight to him felt right.

 

***

 

AJ hung on tight as Undertaker rode through the streets of Slidell, turning down Old Spanish Trail that cut through the Big Branch Marsh National Refuge with its long-leaf pine, gray cypress and tall wiregrass growing up from the brackish marsh. Then they turned left onto Chef Menteur Hwy and a less traveled road that led along a body of water, but AJ wasn’t sure which one.

As they rode out, the places got fewer and farther between until they came to what looked like the last structure for as far as she could see down the road and across the tall grass. It was built up high on five rows of pylons. A covered porch encircled it. Hurricane shutters angled out on supports on the side. It was a muted tan color that blended with the surroundings.

They rolled off the black top, over the crushed shell shoulder and up the short drive of sandy dirt.

A flight of stairs climbed the right side of the structure.

He pulled beneath the house, between the pylons, parking the bike in the shade. There was a small bass boat on a trailer.

She gazed out over the water. “That’s not Lake Ponchartrain. What is it?”

“That’s Double Bayou Lagoon. You can take the canal through the marsh out to Lake Ponchartrain to the west or Lake Borgne to the east, and then out to the gulf beyond.

They moved up the stairs. She admired the view. “You can see for miles from up here. It’s lovely.”

A long dock led out into the bayou, a brown pelican perched at the end. The sun and humidity were intense out here, even in the fall.

“Is this place yours?”

“Yep.”

“I thought you lived at the clubhouse.”

“I do most days, but I keep this place for when I need to get away. It was my grandfather’s. Come on.”

She followed him in the door. The inside was simple—a living room with windows all around facing the water, a kitchen against the back wall, and a dining table between.

He barely gave her a moment to look around before he was pulling her into the bedroom.

***

 

Undertaker couldn’t keep the smile from his face. He’d wanted to show her the place since the moment he’d given her that first ride on his bike, but the timing hadn’t been right.

It felt right now.

Everything about her felt right.

He moved her to the bed and kissed her deeply. When he came up for air, he said, “I want to fuck you. Hard and fast and dirty. And I want to make you love every second of it. That sound good to you?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

He grinned and spun her around, bending her over the mattress. Then he yanked her jeans and panties down.

He slid his fingers between her legs and played with her until she was wet and as eager as he was to have his dick buried inside her.

She moaned.

“You like that, baby?”

“God, yes.”

When she rocked against him, urging him on, he held her still with a hand to the small of her back, keeping her pinned to the bed. He kept stroking on her clit, until her body trembled and her breath came in desperate little cries.

Tensing his muscles, he positioned at her entrance. She was hot and ready; her inner lips parted to receive him.

“Tell me you want me,” he ordered in a gravelly voice.

“I want you. Derek, please.”

He rewarded her by sliding deep in a tortuously slow drive.

Her inner muscles clenched, working along his length in a rhythmic caress that had him groaning in delight. “Yes, baby. Yes.”

“Harder, Derek. Please.”

He gave her what she wanted but soon had to bite his lip hard to keep from pounding into her too rough and fast.

Changing his angle slightly for better pleasure, he began a rhythm that sent them both climbing toward ecstasy through a cloud of harsh cries and smacking flesh. He fisted a hand in her hair and turned her head, bringing her mouth to his, and kissing her while he thrust into her again and again.

Far too soon, the fuse that lit his orgasm and began at the base of his spine ignited before he could try to hold it at bay.

Her inner muscles clenched, dragging every drop of pleasure from both of them and left them heaving together, uncaring that they were still almost fully dressed. All that mattered was the connection they shared.

When she’d dropped to the soft quilt that covered his iron bed, he bent and slowly undressed her, tenderly tucked her under the covers, then undressed and joined her. He stroked her skin and kissed her, enjoying her naked flesh pressed against his body.

She cuddled into him. “Do you come here often?”

“Not as often as I’d like. Never brought a woman here before, though, if that’s what you’re wonderin’ in that pretty head of yours.” He tapped his finger on the crown of her head.

“It’s good to know.”

He stroked his fingers lazily over the soft skin of her back.

“Tell me your biggest fear,” she whispered.

He frowned. “This some kind of psychology twenty questions?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Okay. You first.”

“I’m afraid of people I care about getting hurt because of what I do for a living,” she murmured softly.

He dipped his head. “The people you try to help get hurt because of things that have nothing to do with you.”

“Maybe.”

That had him puzzled. He knew there was something more there that she wasn’t telling him, but he knew in time she’d start to trust him, and she’d feel comfortable enough to tell him the rest.

“Your turn. What’s your biggest fear?”

“Alligators.”

“Be serious.”

“I am. Those suckers are sneaky.”

“Derek.”

He huffed out a breath.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Okay. I give. I guess it’d have to be going back to prison. I’d rather die than be sent back there again.”

“I can understand that.” She squeezed his waist. “That won’t happen. I won’t let it.”

He chuckled at the determination that sounded in her voice. “My little guardian angel.”

“What’s your biggest guilt?”

“I guess losing Skylar and her mom. It didn’t just affect me. It put them through hell, too. It all snowballed, and that snowball all started with me being sent to prison.”

“Doing the crime in the first place.”

“Right.”

“Or joining the MC.”

That comment got under his skin. He wanted her to understand how important the MC was to him, and he realized he needed to be careful with his choice of words when he explained it. “I wouldn’t go that far. The MC saved me in a lot of ways. The mistake I made that got me sent to prison—that was all my choice. Yeah, there was a chain of events that caused me to lose my ol’ lady and daughter, but the club didn’t make me do anything. And yes, I regret it. I always will. Maybe putting the club before those I loved caused it, but those boys will always be my brothers. Responsibility for them weighs heavy on me. I do what I have to, not always what I want to.”

“I didn’t mean to agitate you. I’m sorry.”

“Can we stop with the questions now?”

“Sure.”

“You hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Come on. There’s a place we can walk to from here. They make amazing Po’boys.”

 

***

 

They got dressed and walked down to a place called Remy’s Bait and Seafood. A sign painted on the outside of the building proclaimed minnows, worms, croakers, squid, pogies, mullet, and shrimp for sale. Next to it a menu advertised jumbo shrimp, crab, sandwiches, and ice cream. It also boasted an atm. The whole place was up on stilts, so they climbed the staircase.

The inside was a mishmash of displays, selling everything from canoe paddles, fishing rods, life preservers, sunglasses, coolers, chewing tobacco, and Slim Jims. Several ceiling fans twirled lazily overhead. An ancient, hip-height, faded red Coke machine sat next to a counter. It was the kind you had to slide the top open and bend over to reach inside to pull a Coke out.

Undertaker snagged them each one and led her to the back where there were a couple tiny tables and a window to order food. An old cook with a scruffy beard was visible through the opening, working in the kitchen. The menu was as ancient as the cook, items scrawled in pencil on a faded yellow piece of paper taped to the wall.

The old man came to the window. He had bright blue eyes, a sun burned face, white hair, and a beard that ran along his jawline. He wore a Circle C Charter T-shirt, and smiled a gapped-tooth grin when he saw Undertaker. “Well, lookie who’s here. Ain’t seen you in a moon. Where you been, D?”

“Been around, Remy. How you doin’?”

“Doin’ good. As long as the fish keep bitin’ we doin’ okay.”

“How’s Arnette?”

“She good, she good. What can I get you and da petite fil?”

“Two Po’boys. And I’ve been braggin’ on ya, so don’t let me down, man.”

The old man chuckled. “As if dat’d happen. See you got yo’ drink already. Sit a spell; dey be right out.”

AJ turned to the two tiny tables, but Undertaker headed toward a glass door in the back that she hadn’t noticed. He held it for her, and she stepped out onto a big wooden deck that overlooked the water. He led her to a picnic table by the railing, and they sat watching a fishing boat pull in and tie up.

It was a beautiful, but breezy day. She noticed Undertakers eyes on the storm clouds on the distant horizon.

“I hope we don’t get caught in the rain,” she murmured. It was about a mile walk back.

It wasn’t long before Remy came out, delivering their order on a tray. He set a red plastic basket lined with wax paper before each of them. Inside was French bread piled high with fried shrimp, shredded romaine, sliced tomatoes, and what Remy bragged was his special remoulade sauce.

The tray also had a plate piled high with crispy shoestring fries.

AJ picked up her sandwich and took a bite. The bread was crisp on the outside but pillow-y soft on the inside. The shrimp was fried with the perfect amount of breading, and the remoulade he’d replaced the standard mayo with had just the right amount of kick. It was delicious, and she moaned.

Undertaker grinned at her. “I think she likes it, Remy.”

“’Course she do.” The old man winked and walked away.

Undertaker picked up a bottle of Crystal hot sauce from the condiment caddy and sprinkled some on his sandwich.

“You’re crazy!” she said around her mouthful of food. “This doesn’t need hot sauce; you’ll ruin the flavor.”

“Babe, everything’s better with hot sauce.”

“Oh, God. You’re one of those?”

He paused with the bottle suspended over his Po’boy and cocked a brow. “One of those?”

“Men who put hot sauce on everything.”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, continuing to shake the sauce bottle.

“I suppose that means I’ll have to buy some.” It was as close as she’d come to an indication that she wanted this relationship to continue long term. She grinned to herself. A hot sauce commitment; she was so pathetic.

He didn’t miss the significance of her offering, his hand slowing as he set the bottle down. “It does if you’re cookin’ me breakfast, darlin’. Nothin’ better than hot sauce on scrambled eggs.”

Their Po’boys were good, and they gobbled them quickly.

Undertaker smiled as he wiped his face and tossed the napkin in his empty basket. “You were hungry.”

She smiled, glancing down at her own empty basket. She’d devoured the entire thing, and they’d polished off all the fries. “I guess I was.”

He eyed the dark clouds blowing quickly across the sky, the air thick with the scent of rain. “We better head back.”

They stood, and he grabbed the tray, carrying it inside. He set it on one of the tables and called toward the kitchen. “Thanks, Remy. You didn’t let me down. What do I owe you?”

The man’s face appeared in the window. “I’ll put it on your tab, mon ami.” He nodded toward AJ and grinned. “Très Belle.”

Undertaker’s gaze moved to her. “Absolutely.”

“See you when I see you,” Remy called. The sound of a chopping knife on a butcher block traveled to them as he returned to work.

Undertaker reached for her hand as they moved through the store. He held the door for her, checking the sky again. His boots thudded on the steps as they hurried down.

“Come on, pretty girl. We better be quick in getting back.”

Fat raindrops were already beginning to pelt the ground as they sprinted down the road. They were almost to Undertaker’s place when the bottom dropped out of the clouds and a drenching rain poured down on them.

AJ squealed as they dashed up the driveway, Undertaker’s firm grip still on her hand. They made it up the stairs and under the covered porch, laughing. He shook his head like a wet dog, drops splattering around them, and then hopped on one foot, then another as he yanked his sodden boots off to drop them to the deck with a thud, thud.

She toed out of her shoes as well.

They stood laughing.

He slicked his hair back with both hands, and his gaze swept over her.

Right away, AJ saw his eyes darken with desire.

She glanced down and found her white tank plastered to her like a second skin, revealing everything. She tried to pluck it away, but before she could, Undertaker snaked out an arm, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her to him.

Their wet bodies came together, and his warm mouth covered hers. They barely made it through the door before he was on her again.

AJ turned her head, breaking free of his mouth. “Seriously? Are you always like this?”

“What? Caught in the rain and soaking wet?”

“Aggressively sexual.”

He instantly stepped back, lifting his palms in the air. “You want me to back off, I’ll back off.”

He turned and stripped out of his wet shirt. His back was slick with rain, the muscles moving beneath his skin, and she realized that backing off was the last thing she wanted. She bit her lip. Perhaps this was her chance to be the instigator.

She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his shoulder blade.

Startled by her sudden affection, he put his hand over hers and tilted his head as she nuzzled against him. He turned and took her face in his hands and kissed her. She broke off the kiss and continued undressing him, her hands fumbling with his belt buckle.

He watched her closely, letting her take the lead, at least momentarily.

She opened his pants and lifted her eyes to his. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise we’ll always take care of each other.”

“Always,” he replied, holding her gaze. Then he moved to take charge, undressing her with urgency and dropping wet clothing to the floor.

Soon they were both laughing.

When they were naked, he paused, stepping back and letting his eyes sweep over her.

She propped a hand on her hip, posing. “See something you like, mister? Something you can’t live without?”

“Absolutely. Never had a better offer in my whole life.” He dipped down, put a shoulder to her belly, and hefted her up, carrying her toward the bedroom.

She squealed, her head hanging down, her legs kicking, and she felt his big palm come down on her ass with a loud, smack!

“Hush, woman.”

She hung there and couldn’t resist pinching his ass cheek. He jumped, and she thought he might drop her, but his muscled arm held her firmly.

“You’re gonna pay for that, angel.” His palm came down on her ass a moment before she was bouncing on his mattress.

She thought he’d come down on top of her immediately, but he didn’t. He stood stock still, his glittering dark eyes taking in every inch of her.

“Ol’ Remy was right.”

“About what?”

His fingertip traced along her thigh. “Tres belle. Very beautiful.”

Her heart flooded at the way he looked at her, and what started as a barely-there touch, turned to a warm palm moving up her side, over her hip, her waist and finally closing over her breast. He leaned over her, one knee in the mattress between her knees.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered.

His voice was thick and heavy with arousal. “All the many ways I could take you.”

 

***

 

He wanted sex, but it went beyond that. She was more than just a great fuck. This beautiful woman was changing everything. And he didn’t want to think about anyone else touching her. Hell, that was a new feeling. Sex for him never came with possessiveness—not since Angie.

All the women who had come and gone since he’d lost Angie had never left an impression. For him, it never went beyond sex. Until now. Until AJ.

She was new to his world, the world of the MC, and that added to her allure. He liked that she wasn’t just another girl trying to land the club’s President. She was just the opposite. If anything, his position in the club was a deterrent for her, not a turn on. That was a new one for him. He’d never been in this position before.

He cupped her face and drew her up for his kiss. She was right there with him, kiss for kiss, move for move, need for need. They were so in sync it was scary. Was this all too good to be true? His likes and her likes seemed to mesh so perfectly.

He pulled back a fraction to study her face. She looked dazed and lost already. “Allie,” he whispered. “You’re gonna let me have what I want?”

She nodded, her face already soft with arousal.

He lay back on the bed and pulled her over him, up on her knees where he could get his mouth on her pussy. He positioned her above him and gripped her ass cheeks as he brought his mouth to her.

He wanted the taste, feel, and scent of her to pour over him until he was drowning in desire and the essence of her. He couldn’t get enough. He heard her moans and looked up to see her head fall back as she began to rock against him. He loved that, loved her response. It fed his arousal, and his groans turned to growls.

She was getting close; the trembling of her thighs gave it away, and he knew she was on the edge. Just when she was about to go over, he gave his undivided attention to her clit, brushing it with soft firm circles.

She bucked as she began to ride the crest.

He growled, holding her tight against him and continued to torment her, wanting her orgasm to last as long as he could draw it out.

When she melted to the bed and floated back down to earth, he moved over her to growl in her ear. “Goddamn, baby. What a sight you were.”

“That was amazing,” she whispered between breaths.

His voice was gravely as he asked, “Allie, I need to fuck you. You ready for me?”

She nodded, and he moved over her, and all he could think about was how beautiful she was and how much he wanted to bury himself in that sweet body as deep as he could go.

He could see in her eyes she expected it to be hard and fast and rough. And the surprise was written all over her face when he did her tender and slow and easy, taking his time to savor the feel of her, the way she opened for him, the way she moved with him, the way she wrapped around him with her legs and arms, enfolding him with her tender caresses.

He moved over her slowly, dragging his dick through her folds, his muscles bunching with every thrust and retreat. His eyes never left hers, never missed a thing. “I could spend my whole life in this bed with you,” he whispered.

She stared up at him with eyes that suddenly glassed over.

Thunder boomed over their heads, and the windows rattled. A new downpour fell in heavy sheets, blowing against the windows. A moment later, the power went out, and the house was plunged into darkness as black as the velvet of an Elvis painting, except for the lightning flickering on and off like a strobe effects show.

Undertaker rolled, propping against the headboard, and pulled her on top. “Ride me, Allie-girl.”

She began to move, rocking against him while he watched her breasts bounce in his face. He couldn’t resist taking them in his hands, squeezing while his thumb and finger pinched her nipples. His mouth replaced his hands, and she moved quicker, picking up the pace until she was clutching the headboard.

He smacked her ass, urging her on. “Harder, babe. Faster.”

She did her best to comply until her breathing was labored and a sheen of sweat glistened on her skin and the tendrils around her face.

He loved the way she tried to please him. “Come all over me, Allie.”

And she did, finding her orgasm almost immediately then falling against him in a heaving mass of quivering flesh.

He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back tenderly and cupping her head to his chest as her breathing slowed.

“It’s raining,” she murmured finally.

“No shit.” His chest rumbled with his laugh.

“I guess we’re spending the night here?”

“That okay with you?”

She stretched against him like a cat. “It’s perfect. It’s cozy in this bed with the rain falling outside.”

He ran his hand over her bare bottom. “I’m not complaining. I’ve got a hot-as-sin naked woman pressed against me to keep me warm.”

“You’re the one whose body is like a furnace. You’ll be keeping me warm.”

“Yeah, you do have feet that are cold as ice.”

She chuckled and rubbed them on him. They were quiet for a long time, the sound of the rain on the roof filling the space.

“Derek?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I don’t know where we’re going with this or how it’s going to end. I don’t know where this journey is going to take us. What I do know is that I’ve signed up for the ride, for as long as it lasts.”

“It’s gonna last, Allie. You’ll see.” He stroked her back over and over. When she’d almost drifted off, he murmured, “This right here…”

“Yes?”

“Doesn’t get any better, babe.”

He couldn’t see her face or the smile on it, but he could feel it when he stroked her cheek. She was happy. And that was the way he planned to keep her.

 

***

 

As the sun came up, Undertaker watched the beams shine across the auburn hair spread out on his chest. He shifted his fingers through the soft tresses, closing his fist around them, then releasing them. The scent of the shampoo she used drifted to him, and he inhaled deeply, making a mental note to find out what it was and get a bottle to keep there for her.

Yes, he planned to have her back, if she’d come.

And she’d come because he planned to pamper the hell out of her. He’d make sure she was taken care of, he’d make sure she was protected, and he’d make sure every dream she had came true.

He slid from beneath her soft curves and moved from the room to make a pot of coffee.

 

***

 

AJ stretched and felt the now familiar sweet ache between her thighs. Her eyes popped open, remembering where she was. She rolled, but the other side of the bed was empty. She slid over to his pillow, inhaling deeply his scent that still clung to the case. She needed to find out what soap he used. She wanted to buy some and secretly slather it all over her body. She giggled at the silly thought and wondered where he’d gone.

Rising up on her elbows, she spotted him through the open French doors. He was bent at the waist, leaning on the railing, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He was bare-chested. A pair of gray sweatpants rode low on his hips revealing the sexy dimples at the base of his spine. His hawk-like stare squinted into the morning sun, coming up over the tall marsh grasses. She noticed how the squint lines around his eyes gave his masculine face character. She marveled again at how attractive he was and how he’d only gotten better with age.

He raised the coffee mug to his mouth, sipping on the hot brew. The scent of the rich chicory blend wafted through the house to mingle with the salty air. The curtains billowed in the breeze.

She grabbed her panties from the floor, pulling them up her legs. Spotting one of his faded denim shirts hanging off the bedpost, she snatched it up and slipped it on, fastening just one snap—the one right between her breasts.

She padded across the wood floor to the open doors and found the sun had already warmed the wooden porch.

Undertaker straightened and twisted to greet her with a smile. His gaze moved over her, from her tousled long tresses, down her long bare legs to her painted pink toes and back up.

“Mornin’ beautiful. Come here.”

When she was within an arm’s length, he hooked his free hand around her waist, pressing on the small of her back until she was flush against him. His eyes hit the snap between her breasts. “Cute shirt.”

“Cute sweats,” she replied with a grin, stealing the mug from his hand to take a sip before he snagged it back and set it on the railing. Then he dipped his head for a kiss.

“You sleep well, princess?”

“I slept great. Must have been all the fresh air out here.” She scanned the horizon.

He grinned. “Oh, was that why? Not the awesome sex or the multiple orgasms?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Well, that might have something to do with it.”

“Ya think?”

They smiled at one another, and she felt a peace settle over her. She was happy, she realized, happier than she’d been in a long time.

He positioned her between him and the railing, his chest to her back, and they shared the cup of coffee, taking in the serene beauty around them, listening to the birds chirping and singing, the tapping of a woodpecker on a rotting tree trunk down the road, and the subtle ripple of water as a tall blue heron walked along the shoreline, its eyes searching for a meal.

“It was a very good idea coming here,” she murmured with a smile, her eyes on the view.

He grinned, taking a sip of coffee. “Yeah. I have them every once in a while.”

She felt his hand slide up under the denim shirt, and his palm settled on her hip. It stayed there until the mug was empty, then his long warm fingers slid across her belly, dipping inside her panties and down to stroke her softly, over and over until she was up on her toes, her head falling against his chest, her eyes sliding shut.

“Every time you get near me, I’m lost in the sight and sound and smell of you,” he growled as his mouth moved along her neck, his beard tickling until his lips closed over her skin and sucked hard—so hard she knew she’d have a love bite visible there. She didn’t care. She loved the feel of him marking her skin, knowing she’d remember this moment every time she ran her fingers over the mark for days to come.

His mouth moved up to her ear as her body began to undulate with the sensations his fingers were causing.

“Let it come, baby doll. Show me I got the touch.”

Her arm lifted, her hand snaking around his tanned neck to hang on as she rode his fingers.

His free hand locked around her waist, holding her tight. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she panted.

“Not a chance,” he growled in her ear, pressing his erection against her ass.

Her head dug into his shoulder, and her mouth dropped open with a deep moan as the orgasm rolled over her. “Oh, God.”

When she went limp in his arms, he whispered, “My turn, Allie.” His arm stayed locked around her waist, holding her in place, while he dragged her panties down. Then she felt his hand behind her, yanking his sweats down just far enough to free his cock and press it deep inside her in one quick thrust.

His arm slid away, and his hands clamped tightly over her hipbones, holding her still as he pounded into her from behind.

She bent over the rail, up on her toes, and enjoyed every sensation as he quickly found his own release, going rock solid and pinning her to the rail while he exploded inside her.

He exhaled a long breath, hissing out one word slowly, “Fuck.”

She turned her head to look back at him. “Good morning to you, too, handsome.”

His body shook with his ripple of laughter. He pulled from her and adjusted their clothing, then his hands wrapped around her waist and he leaned over her, hugging her tightly. “It’s gonna be a damn good morning.”

She peered over her shoulder with a coquettish smile. “It will be if I get another cup of coffee.”

He backed up a step, holding up his index finger. “Stay right there.”

He disappeared inside, and she turned to take in the view. It really was lovely out here.

The sliding glass door opened, and she heard Undertaker pad across the deck to her. A mug was set on the railing beside her hand. She picked it up, turned the black mug around to read the two words spelled out in big white lettering. STAR WARS.

She giggled, turning to him. “You got me my own mug!”