Jessa spent the next few days busy. Extremely busy.

 

She stayed late at work, and then woke up extra early. She didn’t trust herself anymore, not after her and Silas’ marathon night of sex. He’d given her three orgasms, which was three more than she figured he’d ever give her. So it seemed best to just stop. Take it for what it was, and never look back.

 

Except every second spent in the same house as Silas begged her to look back. So creeping out of the house while he slept seemed the best option. Returning while he was just getting ready for bed was also smart. Keeping things rigidly, distantly friendly was the only course of action because they were friends now.

 

She definitely didn’t hate him anymore. How could she after he’d spent so much time between her legs? Friends, without benefits. It was that last part she needed to focus on.

 

By Wednesday, though, her body had different ideas about what the next step should be. She hated that she’d been reduced to this: a slave to carnal desires. Unable to ignore simple biochemistry in favor of logic and rationale. One and done had seemed like a perfectly understandable course of action. Even though in their case it was more like four and done.

 

But maybe not done at all. As Jessa pushed into the house late Wednesday, a strange smell punctuated the air. Garlic. Maybe. She followed her nose into the kitchen, where Silas stood at the oven, stirring a pot.

 

“Hey.” A crush-worthy smile crossed his face as he glanced over his shoulder at her. If she could strip him of the biker gear, he’d be a pinup-worthy celebrity. Her own personal Jared Leto. “You’re home.”

 

“I am.” She set her purse down on the table, looking around cautiously. This seemed… planned. Silas certainly never ate dinner this late. “I thought you’d be going to bed by now.”

 

He wiped his hands off on a towel draped over his shoulder, squinting at her from across the room with a mysterious smile on his face. “I know. Because you’ve been avoiding me.”

 

His astuteness took her back. She hadn’t expected him to notice. “Not avoiding. Just… working late.”

 

“Right.” He snapped off the stove, then grabbed two dinner plates from the cupboard. “Well let’s eat.”

 

She blinked dumbly as dished spaghetti onto each plate. “What are you…?”

 

“I made us dinner.” He sent her a stern look, one that made her think twice about protesting. “Now go sit down.”

 

She tamped down the flutters of excitement as she took her spot at the dining table. Silas came over with two steaming plates of noodles topped with red sauce. He went to the fridge and returned a moment later with two cans of beer.

 

She inhaled deeply overtop the plate, then glanced at his. “Why is yours so much bigger than mine?”

 

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to get home to eat. I know you usually eat at work.” His chair scraped against the wood floor as he settled into place.

 

The comment made her deflate a little. “You didn’t have to wait.”

 

“I wanted to.” He flashed her a cheesy grin, cracking open his beer. “Now eat up. This is the only dish I know how to make, so you better tell me it’s fucking awesome.”

 

She laughed, stabbing a fork into the noodles. It smelled great, and just the fact that he’d thought of her enough to want to make dinner warmed her insides.

 

“Thanks.” She twirled some noodles around the fork, then stuffed them in her mouth. She let a low hum as she savored it. “Dang. You cook a mean spaghetti for not being able to make anything else.”

 

“I know about spices,” he said, which made her burst out laughing.

 

“Do you?”

 

He sent her a playful glare. “Yeah. It’s all in the oregano.”

 

“Fair enough.” She stabbed another forkful of pasta into her mouth, grinning at him. It was nice to come home to a home-cooked meal. Nicer than she’d allowed herself to believe.

 

“So how much longer you gonna keep working late?” His chair creaked as he leaned back, taking a long swig of his beer.

 

“Didn’t know I needed to clear this stuff with you first. What are you, my real husband?”

 

He sent her a flat look. “I need to know these things.”

 

She studied the long strands of noodles. “Oh, well, ya know.” The truth was, she had exhausted all of the tasks available to her in order to stay late. She’d reconciled all the business accounts, taken inventory, and now… there was basically nothing left. The store was caught up and then some. “Probably not much longer.” Sending him a cheeky grin, she added, “But be honest – you just miss me.”

 

He sent her a shrouded look. “Gotta keep tabs on you. If you’re working late all the damn time, I might have to come work late with you.”

 

Tenderness was buried in that comment; or maybe she just imagining it, desperate for the warm embrace of someone who gave a damn about her. Christ. You’re really losing it, lady. She took a sip of her beer, then another. Suddenly, half the can was down her throat.

 

He sent her a half-cocked smile. “You want another?”

 

“No. I’m good.” She cleared her throat, stuffing another forkful of spaghetti in her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, though she didn’t know why. Part of her was ready for the slow unwinding process that led to bed, the other part of her wanted to shove all the plates off the table, and demand Silas fuck her until the sun came up.

 

She drew a shaky breath. “You’re really nice.”

 

An eyebrow lifted. He seemed speechless for a moment. “You think?”

 

“Yeah.” She took one last bite of the pasta before deciding it was enough. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “You are. Just thought you should know.”

 

A short laugh escaped him. “I don’t get that a lot.”

 

“I figured you probably didn’t.”

 

“You think I’m nice even if I tell you I’ve killed a few guys?”

 

His voice was unnervingly serious, his ice-blue eyes hard as a glacier. She forced herself to hold his gaze. There was something really important buried in that question. She got the sense he was asking her to accept his lifestyle. To accept the MC.

 

She rolled her lips inward, trying to keep her cool. “A few, huh?”

 

“About as many as your dad. Probably less.”

 

A shaky breath escaped her. She wasn’t imagining it. There was something deeper to the question, which meant that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling as confused and intense as she was. But this should serve as her reminder – if she had any sense left in her at all. “Well, that’s a good point then. I don’t usually equate murderers with nice.”

 

“You think of your dad as a murderer?”

 

The question took her breath away. “Well, no.”

 

“So what’s your beef with the MC then?” He took another swig of his beer. She could tell this question had been on his mind for a while. “We’re good guys. I made you dinner. Doesn’t that prove it?”

 

She smiled briefly, weighing her words. “Dinner is nice, but it doesn’t make up for the needless violence. My brother would still be here if everyone just stayed out of trouble.”

 

“So would mine.” He flicked his thumbnail under the tab of his beer. “But you don’t see me running away from club life.”

 

His comment stilled her. “Your brother died because of the club, too?”

 

He jerked his head into a nod. “About four years ago – a botched deal with the Wicked Spawn.”

 

“So how can you want to stick with a club that got your family killed?” She fought to keep her voice steady. It seemed like she, and she alone, operated in a different realm from the majority of MC members.

 

“Because it’s family.” The words came out softly. Silas looked up at her, earnestness written across his face. “It’s the only family I got. Family means more than life. There’s no other option.”

 

His words warmed Jessa in a way that felt distantly uncomfortable. She didn’t want to sympathize with him or be moved by his dedication to the club. But he’d lost a brother, too, and here they were.

 

She downed the rest of her beer, then rose on shaky legs. Why did this man make her feel this way? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t right. “I’ll wash the dishes, since you did the cooking.”

 

“You don’t have to,” he said over his shoulder as she carried their plates to the sink.

 

But she needed the chance to lose herself in a task. Anything to keep herself from staring into his eyes and imagining their clothes coming off again. “No, that’s the rule, right? You cook, I clean… and vice versa.”

 

He eased back into the chair, taking another swig of his beer. “I think that’s how it goes. Followed by dessert.”

 

“What’s dessert?”

 

The second the words left her mouth a wicked smile curled on his lips. “Anything you’d like.”

 

His innuendo made her roll her eyes. That was exactly what she was trying to stay away from. “Great. For dessert, I’d like to go to bed.”

 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

 

She washed the dishes in record time, tossing him her breeziest approximation of a smile. “Thanks again for dinner, Silas. Good night.”

 

In the quiet of her bedroom, Jessa tugged at her hair. Even though keeping things strictly friendly with Silas was right, it somehow felt wrong. She shimmied out of her clothes and hopped into the shower, keeping the water cooler than normal, as though it might somehow convince her body to drop the animal-in-heat tendencies around Silas.

 

She had to set herself straight. Working late forever wasn’t an option, and besides, ignoring a housemate for eternity didn’t seem right either.

 

It was time to take the bull by the horns and just get the fuck over Silas.

 

***

 

Silas didn’t recall falling asleep; the night had been more of fitful starts of restlessness. Dreams melded into sudden wakefulness. His entire body was on edge, but he didn’t know why.

 

When the floorboards in the house creaked around midnight, his instincts told him it wasn’t an intruder. The way his skin prickled told him that Jessa was just a restless as he was.

 

And then he felt a hand on his forearm. Warmth crept through him. In the darkness of the room, lit only by the weak rays of moonlight entering through the glass sliding door to the backyard, there she was.

 

“Silas.” Jessa’s voice was soft but urgent. “Are you awake?”

 

He sniffed and propped himself up on an arm, yawning. “Yeah. What’s up?”

 

“I can’t sleep.”

 

He tried to take stock of the situation through the haze of darkness. He’d gotten to sleep in her bed just one night, the day he’d gotten stabbed. He’d been kicked out to the couch again, like a pet who had lost bed privileges.

 

“You okay?” He rubbed an eye.

 

“Yeah.” She sounded uncertain though. His eyes adjusted to the darkness slightly, and he sucked in sharply. Jessa was nude. Completely, unmistakably nude.

 

“Hey, what—” he began, just as her hand slipped under the thin blanket covering up his lower half.

 

“I can’t sleep because of you,” she said in a softer voice, so quiet he thought maybe he’d mistaken it. “I can’t stop thinking about how you fucked me.”

 

Clarity surged through him. There wasn’t a faster way to wake a man up than a naked woman looking for sex. “Yeah?” The thought of her tossing and turning because she couldn’t stop fantasizing about how he’d drilled into her on top of the dresser had him hard in seconds. “You miss it? Need me to give it to you again?”

 

Her hand crested the hard ridge of his cock through his boxers and all his thoughts melted away. Need took over, the desire bubbling just beneath the surface every minute since they’d last fucked. He shoved the blanket away and sat up, pulling her up on top of him. She straddled him, her arms hooking around his neck, heavy breasts pressing into his collarbone.

 

“That was fast,” she breathed out.

 

“That’s what you wanted.” His heart raced as he discovered the curves of her body in the darkness, finding pure warmth and softness. He cinched her around the waist, sealing her body against his. “I’ll give you what you want, Jessa.”

 

She moaned low, and a dribble of moisture reached his leg. Fuck, she wanted it so bad she was dripping. He encircled her waist with his hands, squeezing her tight.

 

“This is why we should just sleep in the same bed,” he murmured, skating kisses up her jawline. She writhed against him, head dropping back as he kissed her. “That way you don’t have to come out here begging for it.”

 

She rocked against him. “Please, Silas. I need it.”

 

He pulled back to look at her, smiling as he watched her skin glint silvery in the moonlight. “Actually, I like it when you beg.”

 

She rolled in a slow circle on top of him, one that reminded him that there were a time and place for begging. And now was the time for fucking.

 

He fished his cock out of his boxers. The swollen head slipped along the folds of her pussy, and she moaned, rocking harder on top of him.

 

“Silas.” Her voice was a desperate plea.

 

With a grunt, he pushed himself into her, the fat head of his cock popping inside easily. She slammed down on top of him, riding him with a desperation that took his breath away. All he could do was sit back and enjoy it.

 

She slammed up and down on top of him, soft grunts escaping her. Her hair slipped out of the top knot, wisps brushing his face as she rode him.

 

His ass cheeks clenched as her pace increased. Digging his fingers into her hips, he started matching her movements from below. Slamming up into her just as she came down. A strangled scream escaped her, making his balls tighten. This might be the fastest he’d ever come in his life.

 

“Fuck, Jessa.” His voice was a low growl. “It’s so hot when you fuck me like this.”

 

She hooked her elbow around his neck, arching into him. Sweat prickled on his brow as he drilled up into her from underneath. Her pussy locked around him like a vice. A scream erupted from her.

 

“Oh! Oh!”

 

Silas took that as his cue to finish her off. Grunting with the effort, he steadied her by the hips as he fucked her, relentless, merciless. Her cries turned into a scream, her pussy quaking around him. His own climax pummeled him, came in from left field. His ass cheeks turned to rocks, and his belly jerked as he came.

 

When the wave receded, Silas’ chest was heaving. Jessa had her head draped over his shoulder, her breath coming out in short, humid spurts against his skin.

 

“Well, damn, Jessa.” He laughed softly, smoothing his hands over the curve of her ass. It felt nice to have the weight of her on top of him. Felt nice to have her linger in the afterglow.

 

“Yeah.” She dragged her fingernails up over his bicep. “Fuck.”

 

She stayed on top of him for a few more moments. When her breathing went even, he laid back on the couch, arranging her alongside him. She mumbled something and curled up beside him, fitting just so in the remaining space of the couch. Silas tried not to disturb her as he reached for the discarded blanket, tugging it up over both of them.

 

He stayed awake for only a few moments after that before tiredness claimed him and he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.