Kim

"How much stuff can a person hoard in a year?" Rook's gruff, but nevertheless very calm voice sounds from the driveway.

I lean out the bedroom window. "Only a few more boxes and we're done!"

Rook’s helping us move from the house me and Tank shared for the past year, and there is a lot of stuff to move, since I shipped all my things here from my apartment in NYC after I decided to stay, and I’m no good at throwing things away.

"Yeah, well, the van's almost full, just so you know," he yells back.

"Let him complain," Tank says behind me, loudly enough to be heard out on the lawn. "It's what he loves doing."

"That and Ines," Rook says. "I love doing her too."

The woman he's referring to is standing beside him. She gasps in an exaggeratedly shocked way, smacks him on the arm and starts berating him in rapid, shrill Spanish. I don't know how they work together, him so calm and her with that hair trigger temper. But maybe they work because of it. Because they complement each other. Rook finally kisses her to shut her up.

Behind the curtains of the bedroom we've shared for almost a year, Tank does the same to me, his hands slipping under the short summer dress I'm wearing. Unlike the spring when we met, this year's spring is proving to be hotter than the whole of last summer was.

There's no doubt about where he wants this kiss to end as his hand slips into my panties and his fingers start caressing my clit in the way that can only lead to one thing. I moan and push my pussy into his hand, even as my arms push him away.

"Not now," I whisper. "Everyone's here."

"So?" he asks wryly, his fingers still playing with my clit. "It's our last day at this house, and the bed's still here."

We moved into this house soon after I chased him down in the park, since I was reluctant to start living in a biker HQ so soon after learning everything about the man I fell in love with. But I'm ready to do it now, ready to start my life with him for real.

He kisses me again, pushes two fingers into my pussy, his thumb playing with my clit, as he rubs that special spot inside me the way only he can. The head-spinning ride to the mind-blowing orgasm I know waits at the end of this road forces all other wishes and inhibitions from my mind.

"OK," I whisper and pull on his belt to unbuckle it. "But we have to be quiet."

"That one's entirely on you," he says, and I can't argue with that.

He picks me up and tosses me on the bed, kissing me hard and deep as soon as he's on top.

I can't get out of my panties fast enough, can't help him free his cock fast enough, so it can replace his fingers inside me, which I've missed since he removed them.

He runs his fingers over my lips, pushes them into my mouth at the same time he pushes his cock into my pussy. My gasp is muffled that way, and I bite down to keep from whimpering, keep from making too much noise, as he starts thrusting into me, slow at first, letting me feel every inch of him, letting me accept it, before he starts picking up the pace.

I taste myself on his fingers, the perfect complement to the fires of pleasure his cock is lighting inside me. I'll scream when the fires burn through to another mind-erasing orgasm he'll give me and I him. I'll have no control of it just like I never do.

He's close too, I can sense it in his pace, see it in his eyes, know it in my heart and my mind, because we're two parts to a whole, inseparable in a way that allows no denying. It just is. And always will be.

He too knows I'll scream. So he clamps his whole hand over my mouth as his hard, even, deep thrusts take us to the end of that road of no return. I do scream as the orgasm pierces me, rips me apart with its glorious explosion of light and love and all that is good and right. But thanks to him, it's a muffled sound. Which it won't be tonight, when we do it all again to christen our new home.

"Kimmie! Kimmie! Where are you?" my brother's calls reach me.

Tank barely has enough time to climb off me and turn his back to the door while he fixes his pants, and I barely have enough time to pull my skirt down before Benji barges into the room, his girlfriend Violet right behind him.

"The big man said we should go find you," he says. "He says you both have to come outside right away."

"Oh, is that what he said?" Tank asks, looking out the window with that expression he always gets before he does something bad.

"We'll be right there," I tell Benji, who is eyeing us like he knows we haven't just been packing in this room before he walked in. "Go tell Rook that."

He leaves, and I walk up to Tank once the door closes behind him.

"He almost caught us," I say.

"Yeah, and that's exactly what Rook wanted to happen. But I'll get him back. I always do," he says wryly then wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close. "But it wouldn’t be so bad if Benji saw us, he might've learned a thing or two."

"You have a dirty mind, you know that?"

"Yeah, you and me both, Kim," he says and kisses me again.

But this time, Rook's loud yelling for us to get our asses outside breaks us apart much too soon.

"Will you complain this much when it's time to clear out my parents house?" I ask with a smile as we meet him on the lawn.

He shrugs. "I'll probably complain worse. Or I might just have urgent business elsewhere."

"He will help," Ines says then shoos him away to help her with the last of the boxes.

Russell and my mom left on a vacation to Europe soon after he retired, and now they've decided to buy a house in the south of France and sell the one here to buy a smaller apartment for when they visit. They're coming next week to finalize the sale, and they'll meet Tank for the first time then too. I can't keep him a secret any longer and I don't want to. But I'm afraid Russell will recognize him.

Tank tells me not to worry, that he kept his face hidden, and that it wouldn't do any harm if he were recognized. He thinks Russell would be even more willing to continue keeping quiet about the true reasons behind his early retirement, if he knew how close me and Tank are. I don’t like remembering what he did to Russell, but I also hope he's right. Because there's no longer any shred of my mind that thinks I could live without him.

I've met most of Tank's MC brothers in the last year, Cross, Rook, Scar, even Ice, who's not really a member, but Roxie's—Cross' old lady's— brother. And I can't wait to get to know them even better now that we'll be living together.

And who knows, maybe I'll even start writing again. The kidnapped orphaned girls were freed four months ago, and my editor called me personally to tell me that my article played a big part in getting the rescue mission underway. But I don't know if I'm ready to become an investigative journalist again.

Maybe I'll write the story of our life and of the love me and Tank found in each other, just not in a way that anyone will know it's us. I've been toying with the idea of writing a fiction book since my teens, but I never had the confidence, never thought I had the talent.

But among all the many things Tank's shown me, he also showed me that anything's possible. So maybe I can.

"Time to say goodbye to the house," I say and grab his hand, pulling him back inside.

"What are we? Five years old?" he asks, but follows me inside all the same and lets me lead him from room to room, as I make sure I'll remember every little thing about the first home I shared with the man of my dreams.

He wraps his arms around me once we're back on the porch. "Here's one more thing to remember from this house," he says and leans down to give me the sweetest, softest, most world-melting kiss he's given me yet. His arms are what's holding me up now, because the ground beneath my feet is softer than clouds.

And I will remember this kiss forever. Not that I'll have to, because he'll be with me, refreshing it in my mind everyday until forever comes.

* * *

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