"I can't breathe." Gracie pressed her hand to her chest.

Rich raised his palms. "I'm here, and I won't touch you."

"You..." She exhaled, "God."

He tilted his head and frowned. "Rich."

His intense seriousness thinking she called him God hit her already frazzled nerves, and she laughed. Her insides shook clear down her legs.

She came unhinged and covered her mouth, mumbling through her fingers. "I’m sorry."

He had her desperately wanting him, nothing stopped her from being with him. Nothing. Her head finally agreed with her body, and she knew without a doubt that she wanted to have sex with him.

The old feelings she'd thought were lost forever returned and were the most wonderful thing she'd experienced in so long. She stepped forward and cupped his face, working her fingers over the lines around his eyes.

"Can we start over?" she said quietly.

Rich's gaze lowered to her mouth. "I can start again, but where do you see this finishing?"

There was no hesitation. She knew what she wanted. "Upstairs in my bed."

Taking her hand, he led her into her bedroom. She hurried across the room and turned on the light in the bathroom, leaving the door open, casting a glow over both of them.

She inhaled deeply. "You're going to think I'm weird, but..."

His brows lifted before he schooled his expression. "Why don't you tell me what's weird about you."

"Hang on." She removed the purse strap over her head, took out the pistol, and set the weapon on the nightstand. Dropping the bag on the floor, she quickly undid the buttons on her shirt and shrugged off the material. She turned to face him, unlatching the two hooks at the front of her bra.

"I want to pretend this isn't our first time and I'm not awkward. Cause I tend to talk a lot when I'm embarrassed, and I am embarrassed. A lot. But, I'm going to pretend this is normal and get naked, like we have sex all the time. That you've seen my body before and you're not staring—cause you're staring, Rich. That makes me feel funny, and it makes me nervous. You make me nervous cause this feels really, really good." She unzipped her jeans and hooked her thumbs underneath the waistband, grabbing her panties, too. Shimmying out of the rest of her clothes, she looked up at him as she bent over to free herself of the material. "It's been awhile, and I'd really like to touch you and be with you like it hasn't been five years since I had sex."

"That's fucked up, honey." He pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're telling me," she mumbled. She walked to him naked, pretending that she was used to men seeing her stripped vulnerable and defenseless.

He put his hands on her upper arms stopping her, and he frowned. "You can pretend and do whatever you need to do to feel good, but it's a damn shame that you haven't had sex for so long."

"That streak will end soon if you kiss me again." She slipped her arms around him and pressed her breasts against his bare chest. The skin to skin contact more wonderful and exciting than she remembered. "Please."

He slid his hand underneath her hair at her neck, and his other hand landed on her lower back, pressing her harder against him. His lips parted slightly as he lowered his head and she arched, stretching upward to make contact.

His large body surrounded and held her. She sucked on his tongue working her fingers up to his head and twining them in his long hair.

He was massive and strong.

Safe.

She wanted to know everything about him. The things the Notus members hadn't shared. And, why had it taken him so long to make a move on her after watching her for so long?

From the beginning, she'd felt him watching her. Pure curiosity at first, and then her body started warming because his eye contact lasted longer and contained more than what was polite. When he would catch himself, he looked away angry. She wanted to know why.

He pulled his mouth back and straightened. She stepped backward out of his arms and sat on the bed.

Rich ran his hand across his stomach. She bit her lip, following the line of hair down to his belt buckle. A man with chest hair always seemed more manly, tough, blunt. A don't-take-shit-from-nobody type of guy.

"I don't have a condom." Rich's gaze stayed on her breasts.

She put her arms down beside her and clenched the comforter on the bed in her fists. "I think there's one in the nightstand."

He moved to the side of the bed. She rolled and jumped to her feet in front of him, getting there before him. Her pistol sat on the top of the nightstand.

She shouldn't be worried about him taking it. He had her other pistol. But, habits were hard to break, and she felt more comfortable being able to protect herself.

Finding the wrapped condom in the drawer, she held it out to him. "Only one."

"That's all we need." He put the protection between his lips and used his hands to undo his belt and zipper. "Lay down for me, honey," he mumbled around the wrapper.

She scooted back farther on the bed and stopped. "C-can I be on top?"

Taking the condom out of his mouth, he opened and rolled on the protection. Without stopping, he turned around and sat on the bed with his jeans puddled atop his laced boots. "You can do whatever you want with me."

She rolled to her hip and pressed him down on his back, taking up his invitation. Maybe if they ever had the chance to have sex again, she'd work her way up to being comfortable underneath him, but for now, she needed to have the comfort of no restrictions. She could leave if she had to, though moving away from him was the last thing on her mind.

Rich put his hands under her arms, lifted her straight up and sat her on top of him. She planted her hands on his chest, catching her balance.

A thrill shot through her, settling between her legs.

"I'm going to touch you." He cupped her hips. "If you say stop, I'm going to stop."

She nodded. It wasn't fear of sex that had her needing to be on top. Roy Jenkins hadn't raped her.

Jenkins hadn't touched her, except to tie her hands and feet. The most contact she remembered was when he'd sliced open her shirt and carved her mother's name on her chest. She couldn't remember the time from the car crash to his house because she'd been knocked unconscious. First by hitting her head against the glass window in the vehicle and then getting punched in the face in the car.

What made her leery were the stories. The almost obsessive-compulsive assault, rape, and torment Jenkins had done to her mother, Thalia, and the other females he'd abducted and murdered. Their stories were now her stories, and she would forever have what happened to them in her head.

She had to continue living for them, with their memories, now her memories.

"Hey." Rich reached up and pulled her down until she laid on top of him. "Look at me."

She had no problems looking at him. For the last two and a half months, she'd only had him for entertainment. She dreamed about him, fantasized about him, and created some really messed up scenarios in her head about him since he started living with her.

The problem was she couldn't recognize her own reality.

Here she was as close to him as two people could be and she had the stories from Notus Motorcycle Club putting Rich up on a king's throne as their long, lost brother, and her fantasies that filled the empty minutes of the day. She was not mentally healthy—she knew that.

Most days, she couldn't even see a time in her future where she'd walk out the door without any worries or close her eyes at night and not see her mother raped and killed because Roy Jenkins put those memories inside her.

"Gracie, don't think," whispered Rich.

She whispered back, "Help me."

"I'll remind you." He lowered her down his body and his cock pressed against her pussy. "Gracie."

She pushed her upper body up while she impaled herself on his cock, stretching and molding to his size. Exhaling, she said, "Rich."

Her body seized in neediness. The fullness and connection with someone else after keeping her distance from everyone in her life for so long brought emotions out of her she thought were stolen from her.

"Gracie." He patted her thigh.

Thankful for the reminder, she said, "Rich."

"I'm going to touch your pussy, honey."

She grabbed his forearm as he reached his hand down. Not to stop him, but to just...just know it was him touching her.

He rubbed his thumb over her clit. Her fingers tightened on his arm, and he stopped.

"No...no..." She squeezed him again. "That's good. Don't stop."

His cock pulsed inside of her. "It is good."

Caught up in her own pleasures, guilt hit her. She wasn't using him. That wasn't her intent. She wanted him and hoped after they had sex that he'd continue to make an effort to stay close to her, and not pull away.

Warmth built inside her. She sprawled her hands on his stomach and trailed them up to his chest, leaning forward. His eyelids lowered as he watched her, and she planted her hands on the bed and let her nipples skim his chest.

His hand slid out from between her legs, and he cupped her ass, lifting and planting her on him, over and over. She lost control. Like, she lost all control.

Rich manipulated her body into arousal and forced her attention to him.

Staring into Rich's eyes as he drove inside of her, she literally stopped breathing as an attempt to stall the pleasure. Then, Rich gave her breath right back.

She panted.

Every erogenous zone pulsed.

Her pussy.

Her nipples.

Her Ass.

Her Head.

She blinked—long and heavy.

Rich raised his hands to her upper back, pulled her down and slid his beard along her temple and put his lips to her ear. "Gracie."

Her eyes fluttered. "Rich."

"Let it go." He nibbled her earlobe. "I want it."

She shoved her face into his neck and slid her arms under his shoulders, wrapping him in an embrace as her lower stomach convulsed and engulfed her in an orgasm. He shuddered underneath her, and the hand cupping the back of her head shook as he smoothed her hair over her scalp.

His breathing covered her bare shoulder. He'd done it all. And, she'd come in minutes.

She'd wanted to give him sexy, glorious, and unforgettable. None of that had happened, and yet Rich having sex with her was the most tender, beautiful, giving moment of her life.

"Rich," she mouthed, wishing she could tell him how much being with him meant to her.