With Ryan sleeping in my arms, I called over to his Doberman. “Tank,” I whispered. “Get him.”

It was a trick I had been working on for weeks. Whenever I told Tank to get Ryan, the goofy, giant dog would jump up and start frantically licking his face.

I busted out laughing as Ryan flew up yelling, “Dammit, Tank, I’m your owner. Stop listening to her.”

“Hey,” I complained while throwing a pillow at Ryan’s face. “I live here too now—doesn’t that make Tank ours?”

He scooped me up into his arms. “You’re right, baby. I’m sorry.” He started kissing me rapid fire on both sides of my face, and I giggled and started to play wrestle him.

Mornings like this made me sad we had missed out on ten years of them, but they also made me excited to make up for lost time. Wrestling turned into playful biting that turned into making out and before we knew it, Ryan was pinning me down with his hands on my hips and his tongue teasing my throbbing clit.

“Holy fuck, Ry. You’re getting so damn good at that,” I moaned, gripping the pillow under my head.

“Practice makes perfect, babe.” His hot breath connected with my pulsing tenderness as my desire got the better of me.

“Fuck me, Ryan!” I cried, arching my back to press myself firmly against his tongue.

He shoved up, crawling on top of me. With his nails digging into my hipbones, he pulled me toward him, slamming down hard onto the bed as his dick filled my pussy quickly.

I let out a gasp as the euphoria of the pressure and the slightest hint of pain took my breath away. There was something so perfect about Ryan’s cock. It fit perfectly in my pussy, like a key to a lock. It wasn’t that he was huge or anything, just a little above average. He had good girth, but not anything that would stretch me wide open like women read about in romance novels. It was that he was my perfect match and I could feel it, from the way his fingers gripped my hair and my sides to the way his lips were the perfect combination of firm and soft. It was the way my legs fit perfectly around his waist without feeling like his hipbones were going to leave bruises on the insides of my thighs. Our bodies were made for each other. I was meant to make love to Ryan Axston every day for the rest of my life.

After showering and getting ready to head to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner, I sat with Tank on the front step. Ryan had his cut swung over his shoulder as he joined us.

“What? No,” I protested as he pulled me to my feet and kissed my forehead.

“Just got a call. I have to go help Buck, babe. I’m sorry.” He looked down at me with his hand cradling my cheek.

“What am I supposed to tell Mom?” She already was mad at me for dumping Kevin and moving in with Ryan so quickly. She had never really liked Ryan, so it was a double dose of disappointment in her eyes.

“Tell her I’m sick or something. I have to go, baby. How ’bout you come by the barn after dinner and hang out with me and the guys? I’ll be back over there by then.”

“You owe me.”

He kissed me one last time before melting my heart. “Until my eyes see you again, I will hold you endlessly in my heart. Behind my eyelids, nothing exists except for you. I’ll see you later, baby.”

Dinner with my parents and brother was a special form of torture. No one knew what to say so we all stayed quiet through a painful meal, just like we had for the last eight Sunday evenings in a row. I hated that I felt the need to continue the awful family tradition, but I just didn’t want to continue to disappoint my mom. If she wanted to see me for supper one night a week, I could deal with the awkwardness for a while.

It was better than Ryan’s situation—his parents refused to answer the phone or even open the door. We had tried a few times, but when he’d enlisted, his folks had told him that as far as they were concerned, both of their sons were dead, and they were steadfast in their resolve to stick to that sentiment. It broke my heart for Ryan, but we were about to start our own lives and family so we had to just accept their decision and focus on the future.

When I got to the barn, I walked in the side door and scanned the room for Ryan. He was standing the in back with a mug clutched in his hand, stroking his beard while talking to Buck.

Right when I caught his eye, he waved and trotted over to me. “Hey, babe.” He kissed my cheek, leading me over to the bar. “Need a drink after that dinner?”

I took a seat on a barstool as Buck joined us. “Just water, babe. It’s been a long night.”

“Hey little lady.” Buck wrapped his arm around me to give me a hug. “You’re glowing.” His eyes narrowed as I tried to stifle the smile that was taking over my face. I couldn’t wait to get Ryan alone, but I didn’t want anyone figuring out why until I got to tell him first.

“Just glad to be out of another terrible family dinner.”

Ryan handed me a bottle of water while filling up his mug with Old Crow and 7-Up. “Was it really that bad?” He leaned across the narrow bar to kiss me.

I shrugged as our lips parted. “She’s still not talking to me.”

Buck cracked open a beer. “Family shit is the worst. We all know it far too well around here.”

I grabbed Ryan’s hand. “Can we talk out back for a second?” I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell him the news I’d figured out right when he left that afternoon.

“Yeah, of course. Is everything all right?” Ryan grabbed my hand as we made our way to the back. His thumb drew circles in the palm of my hand as he smiled down at me.

“Uh huh, I just have some news that I want to tell you privately, that’s all.”

As soon as we were a few steps out of the back door, a few men on bikes started riding down the fence line in the grass. They had bandanas covering their noses and mouths.

“Fuck! Cass!” Ryan yelled, scooping me up into his arms.

I had no idea what was going on. The sounds of guns firing, guys yelling, and motorcycles revving erupted as Ryan ran with me back into the barn. We fell onto a couch with him on top of me, covering my entire body with his. As I gasped for air, I realized we were both covered in blood. When the gunfire finally stopped, Ryan pulled me to my feet.

Buck rushed over. “Are either of you hit?” he asked us.

Ryan ignored him, running his hands up and down my body, checking to see if I had been injured. I knew the blood had come from one of us and that I was fine.

I started trembling as I screamed in Ryan’s face, “Answer him!”

“Right shoulder, flesh wound. Get me the kit, I can patch it up myself,” he finally told Buck as a few of the guys ran back in with their guns drawn.

Ryan continued to check my body as I collapsed into Buck’s arms, sobbing. “I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Buck, just make sure Ryan is okay.” I was a blubbering mess.

“I’m calling Witt.” Ryan pulled his phone out of his pocket to call my best friend’s husband, and I couldn’t protest. I knew if the club was being hit, I was in danger and couldn’t go home. It was the first time anything like that had happened. Before that moment, Ryan had just been a guy on a motorcycle who had other friends who liked to ride motorcycles too and occasionally shot guns. Now he was an outlaw, I was his old lady, and we were in danger.