Looking at the mess of cookie cutters and flour scattered all over the counter from my mom making Christmas cookies, the front door to the house opens and slams. I jerk with the rage behind the slamming of the door.

He knows.

Inhaling a long breath for strength I turn, my hands behind me on the counter.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it.” I mask a smile.

Zeek strides through the house, slowly making his way to the kitchen. His black hair messy in his brown dominate eyes capturing the words straight from my mouth.

His black leather cut wrapped around his strong shoulders, and black shirt stretched to the max.

You’d think having sex as many times as I have with Zeek I’d be used to the perfection underneath that shirt, but I’m not. Every time he takes his clothes off and that fucking six pack hits me like a ton of bricks, I lose my breath.

“Where were you tonight?” His tone of voice dark.

“I was… here,” I lie, the words like fire as they run across my tongue.

He gently grasps my chin, turning my head into the light.

“Where did you get that knot on your head?”

I open my mouth to explain but close it quickly. I suck at this lying shit. I can’t do it, and by the look in Zeek’s irises, he knows I’m lying through my teeth.

“You were in the sheriff’s car, weren’t you?” He’s stating rather than asking.

“Merry Christmas?” I reply meekly.

“Goddamn it, Jillian!” He turns away from me, his body tense and cold.

“What would you have me do?”

He whips around, his face red.

“If you would have gotten hurt or caught playing on the wrong side of the law and lost your job because of me… it’d kill me!”

His fist pounds at the center of his chest, his words wrapped with so much endearment it takes me aback.

“I had a choice.” I point at him. “Bleed blue or make sure my fiancé was home for Christmas. It killed me to do what I did, but I did it for us.” As strong as I try to be, the crack in my voice gives me away. My eyes filling with tears.

In one step, he’s back in my space, the smell of leather slightly grounding my rational thoughts.

“Don’t, ever do that again,” he whispers, his fingers trailing along the soreness on my temple.

As long as Zeek is the outlaw, and I’m the sheriff things will always be messy between us. His foot will cross my line, and I will cross his. If we don’t, we won’t make it.

His mouth seeks mine, taking away the words I overthink a million times. The rehearsing of sentences before he arrived blurring with the taste of beer from his tongue.

Our desire gone manic, his hands frantically pull at my jeans, while I tear his cut down his massive arms.

His lips are on my neck, my breathing thick and labored.

“You’re my rookie, stay that way, baby,” he whispers against my skin.

“I can’t help it, you make me dangerous,” I reply breathy.

Pants and panties gone to the kitchen floor, his jeans down to his ankles I help him lift his shirt over his head.

My mouth drops looking at his tight abs, and the fucking V-shape leading down to his erect cock. I run my nails down his hard body, my heart picking up its pace, I feel it in-between my legs.

Fisting each of my thighs, he places me on the counter. The feel of a cookie cutter cutting into my ass cheek. I wince, lifting my right thigh, I pull it out. The shape of a Christmas tree slightly cut into my flour-covered butt cheek.

Tossing the cutter in the sink, I tense when metal against metal echoes through the house.

It doesn’t stop Zeek though.

He grabs my tit heavily, leaving behind a flour handprint, his mouth nibbling and sucking on my bottom lip.

I open my legs to him, and the tip of his cock finds my heat instantly. Filling me with his thickness, my whole body swells with desire.

My nails dig into his back, pulling him close as pleasure riddles through my limbs.

He thrusts hard, a grunt vibrating his chest.

My body slides back and forth on the counter from the leftover cookie mess, my body coiling around Zeek like a lifeline as waves of pleasure take me from this earth.

I try to remain quiet, to hush my cries of satisfaction, but they cannot be contained when Zeek fucks me like this. When he’s angry and possessive. As if him fucking me is imprinting his declaration of his ruling into my soul.

“You wanna play, bad girl?” He drives into me harder, and my hands fling to the side of the counter. “I’ll show you what naughty girls get.” He nips at my collarbone, and my eyes flash with passion. Seeing his hard-veiny cock slipping in and out of me causes my lips to part slightly. It’s so erotic and heightens everything that much more. “I’m going to fuck you raw, so every time you move too fast you will think of me, and you’ll remember where you stand in our relationship.”

I pull away from him and see fire dancing in his eyes.

“You are my rookie, and I’m your outlaw.”

Swallowing down the words I want to spew at him, I nod. Because otherwise he might stop fucking me, and it feels so goddamn good I’d slump to the floor in one giant void if he withdraws from me just to argue his point.

“You’re my outlaw,” I pant.

“Good girl.” A chaste kiss on the forehead is barely felt as he pounds into me so hard my legs are nearly in the air to allow him to move back and forth so swiftly.

Flour hangs in the air, our bodies painted with a light dusting, as the smell of sex and vanilla surround us.

My sex clenches, a warmth so hot and powerful starting in my toes and creeping up my legs like an out of control wildfire.

He grunts, his fingers nearly piercing the flesh on my thighs. Taking my hands from the counter I clutch each of his ass cheeks, wanting him deeper.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I pant, closing my eyes. Like a flick of a Bic lighter, I combust into a million little pieces as I come so hard I can’t contain the cry slipping from my swollen lips.

Zeek slaps his hand over my mouth, his body tense and his hips jerking as the familiar liquid warmth fills my sore pussy.

Taking a step back, his cock slides free from my wetness. Goosebumps race along my skin from the sudden void, and I cross my arms.

“I uh, I got you something too.” He rubs the back of his neck in a suddenly anxious manner.

“You did!” I ask a little too excited.

A small smirk plays on his face. He bends down, pulling his jeans up over his flour-covered butt cheeks.

Stepping out of the house, I take the opportunity to slide off the counter and retrieve my panties from the floor.

Just as I get them on, Zeek re-enters the house. He’s shirtless, his jeans so low I can see that damn V disappearing into his pants. His arm is twisted behind his back, hiding the gift he got me.

“I didn’t have time to wrap it, not that I would know how to.” Oh my God, he’s so nervous it’s cute. Big biker scared his baby momma won’t like his Christmas gift.

He pulls his hand out from behind his back, and a black leather cut causes my knees to go weak.

The smell of fresh leather takes over the room, and I reach out, needing to touch it. My fingers crawl along the material before fully clutching it.

Pulling it from his possession, I hold it up.

Is stitched into the back, the front reading Rookie.

I have a road name.

“You’ve been tethering the line of good girl, bad girl and I thought this would be perfect. I know you can’t wear it out, but I see the way you look at the other ol’ ladies. I see the jealousy and longing in your eyes and I hate it.” Knowing he’s noticed my jealousy flares a red heat in my chest. “A cut, marriage license, none of it matters in the end because you have my ring on your finger. You’ve carried my kids, and you’re my fucking queen.”

“I love it.” A tear slips from my right eye, and Zeek’s eyes flare. Signs of emotion such as crying is intriguing to Zeek, it has been since we started dating. His finger swipes the tear from my face, and he presses it to his lips. Soaking in its emotion as if it’s his fuel to feel something in this world.

“I love you.” I look up at him with glossy eyes.

“I love you too, Rookie.”

Not able to wait a minute longer, I shove my arms through the sleeveless leather jacket, my nipples perk from the coldness.

“Holy fuck!” Zeek growls. Grabbing onto each side of the leather, he jerks me closer.

“My property,” he says the words so lightly, but the determination in them is so strong I instantly know I’ll never be without this man. Even in my grave, Zeek will be standing over my dead body, claiming me as his woman.

Always protecting me, even if I am meant to be his enemy.