If fucking was a talent, I’d win every prize imaginable. Cocky as it may sound, it’s true. If there’s anything I’m good at it’s sex. Reading a woman’s needs and wants is a gift. Being able to put your own desires aside to deliver her what she needs is an act of self-control. I’m the type of guy who takes pride in watching a woman unravel, knowing I made it fucking possible. Knowing I took care of her before I unleash myself makes it all the more rewarding when I drive my cock into her and ride her like our lives depend on it.

You see, when I do finally fuck someone, I fuck with no regard.

I fuck with everything I am and everything I’ll ever be.

I fuck and I wreck.

I ruin.

I take and take until there is nothing left to take, until I own every fucking orgasm she’ll ever have because when we’re through and she’s moved on to another lover, it’s me she’ll be thinking about when she comes. It’s my cock she’ll wish for.

I know, I know, I’m an arrogant bastard.

But I’m no liar and that shit is a fucking fact.

It’s one of the reasons I didn’t fuck Ally. Treading carefully isn’t something I’m used to, but the moment she asked me to touch her, I knew I had to set boundaries for myself. She wasn’t just any girl. She wasn’t a quick fuck or another notch in my belt. She was broken—so fucking broken—and as badly as I wanted her, I needed to be careful.

In the days since we started living together, I began to notice Ally more. As she came into her own, deciding the woman she wanted to portray, the woman she wanted to be, my attraction grew deeper. It wasn’t just physical, it was the whole package.

It’s everything.

The sorrow of her past and the hope for her future. It was the sense of humor she found buried beneath the scars. The sass that drove me nuts and the genuine curiosity I wanted to feed. It was the natural beauty she didn’t even realize she possessed.

Everything.

It was all of that, wrapped in a pretty package tied to a smoking body and complete with an ass that had me purposely dropping shit all around the place so she’d bend over and give me a better view of it.

Those thoughts alone should have sent me for the hills, but then she called me crying and my attraction for her took a back seat to my need to heal, to mend. Still not trusting myself completely, I battled with my conscience, knowing if I crossed that line between us I would be taking on a role I wasn’t sure I was meant for. A role I was sure I’d fail at.

It was one thing to look after her and help her adjust to her new life, but it was a whole different ball game signing up to be the man who helped her reconnect with her body. As a woman who dreaded sex and only knew of it as a chore, Ally needed to be worked thoroughly. She needed to feel everything, every tiny sensation before she rolled with the waves and crashed into unchartered territory.

So, that’s what I tried to do.

I tried to erase what she thought she knew and introduced her into the realm of pleasure, a pleasure she controlled. It was just a taste, a prelude to what could be if she let herself feel instead of wishing to be numb.

A taste that still lingered on my tongue.

With every touch and every fucking sweet taste, I talked myself down from fucking her. Painfully aware one wrong move on my behalf could be a trigger for her, my mind talked me through loving Ally. I calculated every touch, second guessed every order I delivered and reminded her she was in control.

Giving her those safe words were well thought out too. The words no and stop were very much a part of Ally’s life and each time she cried those words they were ignored. This time, she controlled the show and the words red and yellow were hers to command.

In the end, watching Ally slowly come apart was the most gratifying experience of my life and made suffering from a severe case of blue balls completely worth it. My cock hated me but that was okay, he’d get over it.

Probably not today though seeing as Ally’s naked body is nestled against mine. After I ate her out and she came a second time, she looked as if she might pass out. Taking her into my arms, she laid her head on my chest and curled the rest of her soft curves against me. She’s been sleeping for two hours and I’ve been staring at the ceiling, torturing myself as I replay the two times she came over and over in my head.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand I notice it’s barely eight o’clock. There are still four hours left until her birthday ends, still time to take that ride, providing she wants to. Having learned of her parents’ tragic death set her back a few paces in her recovery and I’m starting to realize she needs more than me.

As I stroke her silky hair, she stirs slightly, forcing my hand to freeze as she murmurs something in her sleep and rolls off me, burying her face in a pillow. It dawns on me then that she’s slept two full hours without interruption. Without any nightmares haunting her.

Abandoning any idea to wake her, I carefully slide out of bed and grab my jeans off the floor. Pulling them on, I move to the closet and grab the lockbox from the shelf, something I bought after Ally started staying at the motel with me. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull the key out and unlock it. I take the bag of weed and the rolling papers from the box and take a quick glance over at Ally. Still asleep, I stash the box back on the shelf and search the room for a piece of paper to break up the herb.

It would be my luck the Bible is the only fucking thing in the room. Knowing I’m not one of God’s favorite people, I rip a page from the leather book—a blank one—I’m not fucking crazy. Me and Satan may tango every now and then, but I’m not about to break up my weed on a scripture. A man’s got to draw the line somewhere.

Not bothering with a shirt, I step outside and let the cool air settle over me as I take a seat on one of the rattan chairs in front of my room. I roll myself a fat joint and prop my bare feet on the rickety table. The first hit relaxes me and I let my body uncoil as I look out around the parking lot. My gaze lingers on the familiar black car parked in the lot and I try to place where I’ve seen it before. However, I don’t get far because Wolf pulls into the lot like a mad man.

So much for relaxing.

Taking another hit, I hold in the smoke as a prospect jumps out of the back seat and hurries to open the passenger door. Dropping my legs from the table, Wolf opens his door. His foul mouth in full effect, bitching about us fucking nomads driving him to an early grave. The prospect helps the passenger out of the truck and I choke on the smoke as Cobra comes into my view.

What the fuck?

Coughing up a lung, I shoot a glare at Wolf.

“Don’t fucking start,” he orders, pointing a finger. “The stupid bastard signed himself out of the hospital.”

“Where is she?” Cobra grunts. Pressing his hand to his wounds I’m not sure are healed, he limps over to me. Ally’s naked body flashes before me and I drop my joint.

Motherfuck my life.

Note to self, don’t fucking play with the Bible.

Standing up, I quickly side-step to block him from opening the door.

“She’s sleeping,” I tell him.

“Well, I want to see her. I need to make her understand none of this is her fault.”

“Look, I’ve got it under control,” I say, glancing over his shoulder at Wolf. “He shouldn’t be here. Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Right, because I was going to be able to stop him. His old lady nearly shot his dick off and he still insisted on coming here,” he argues.

“Get out of my way,” Cobra demands, forcing my attention back to him. “Look, Deuce, I appreciate everything you’ve done for her while I’ve been laid up, but she’s my sister and it’s my job to help her.”

“I said she’s sleeping,” I growl, crossing my arms against my chest as I meet his glare. “The girl don’t fucking sleep without waking up screaming…let her be. She’s peaceful right now. You want to help her then come back tomorrow when she’s had time to digest the fact her fucking parents are dead.”

Cobra’s eyes narrow as he forces himself to stand tall. His fists clench at his sides and I know in that moment I’m fucked.

“Ruger,” Cobra calls, signaling for the prospect. “Kick open the door.”

“Oh fucking hell,” Wolf mutters. “Just let him see his fucking sister, Deuce.”

“You don’t want to go in there,” I tell him, holding my stance.

“Why is that?” Cobra snarls.

Staring back at him, I weigh my options. If I say nothing, I’m automatically a pussy. If I tell him his sister is sprawled out on my bed, I’m the douche who took advantage of her. Either way, I’m fucked and likely to get my ass kicked. Well maybe not, he’s injured. Still, I bet he wouldn’t hesitate in shooting me.

“You know why,” I say finally.

Then before he can fucking kill me the door opens behind me.

Please let her have clothes on.

God Almighty, please.

Tearing my eyes away from Cobra, I glance over my shoulder at Ally. She’s wearing nothing but my t-shirt and she smiles sheepishly at me.

Fuck, she’s pretty when she smiles.

That’s the last coherent thought I have before Cobra’s fist collides with my cheek.

Fucking girl is going to get me killed.

But at least I’ll die with her on my mind.

Or better yet, at my side.