It was a rush. How could it not have been? I was spying on a vicious gang of bikers and a corrupt cop, all while pretending to be someone that I’m not.

A serious rush. But as I watch Alex pull his shirt off, and as the muscles of his back–bruised they may be–flex and bulge, the rush that hits me now is somehow stronger than earlier today.

Alex always gives me a rush. He’s an instant shot of adrenaline to my veins. At first I thought that might have just been because he was dangerous, and I didn’t know the true nature of what he may have done.

As I learned more about him and got to know him better, I thought maybe the exhilarating feeling I get around him could have been as complex as Alex being the opposite of the path I chose. I chose to be the “good girl,” and do what is right, and Alex represented the opposite choice, every temptation I’d ever resisted.

Then, after more time passed, I thought it could have been as simple as lust. Alex is undeniably the most physically striking and imposing man I’ve ever seen. Some of those bikers–Ruger especially–had a similar level of physical presence, but Ruger was old and grizzled. And aside from his age, I saw no hint of compassion beneath his eyes.

So it was the compassion? That hint or spark I saw beneath him? That’s what made it more than lust, but is it love? If it’s not love, then how damn stupid am I to have taken this many risks to be with this man?

He turns around and grins at me. That half-grin, always accompanied by a raised eyebrow, one of many little things he does that gets me melting for him. He knows what it does to me, and since I know he knows, it makes the effect it has on me even stronger. Because I know that he’s trying to tempt me, right now, to lie down with him. To let him bring me to ecstasy once again.

And with Alex, it’s never just one time. Once we get going, it’s hard to ever put on the brakes.

Which is why I should resist. I look down at his battered body. It looks as strong, wide, tall, and muscled as ever. But the bruises are all shades of blue, black, and pink, and I know his ribs aren’t healed yet.

We’re in a different motel from last time. We had to find one that definitely had no cameras.

Alex runs his hand through his hair, which has the fortunate side effect of highlight his bulging bicep, while also drawing attention to his luscious, dark hair.

“You looked better with the mullet,” I say.

“You’re full of it,” he says, grinning. “Though I did like your wig.”

I laugh. “I did too, actually. I’m looking forward to wearing it again tomorrow.”

“Hopefully not for long,” he says. “I’m anxious to cut the deal with Marlo.”

My stomach ties itself into knots. I really didn’t want to think about this right now. As optimistic as I feel about there being a way out, I can’t help but worry myself to death about it once it’s on my mind.

I find my hands running gently across Alex’s body. It’s just to take my mind off things.

Then the warmth of him hits me, and I feel impossibly drawn into his gravity. I lean in and find my lips against his broad shoulder. He presses his own lips against the top of my head, and his hand runs down my back.

I pull my shirt off and throw it forcefully aside. Once I get my shirt off, I won’t change my mind. It’s like when you have a box of cookies you know you shouldn’t open, because once the box is opened, you’ll be unable to resist eating “just one more.” Eventually you just rip the box open so you can stop agonizing over it.

My shirt is off, and I unhook my bra and let it fall down. Good, Pandora’s cookie box is popped open now, and I know neither Alex or I can resist it from here.

He presses against me, until I feel the bed at my lower thighs. I let him push me harder, until I’m forced down onto the bed.

Alex whips his belt off, drops his pants, and pulls his boxers down. His cock, rock-hard, springs up to attention. Before I can even get a good look at it, he jumps onto the bed, sliding on top of me.

I fight to get my jeans off. He reaches down to help, and I see his face twist in pain, and he winces as his chest flexes.

I have my hand just about to pull my panties down, but I stop and give him a look.

“Come on,” he says. “I’m hard.”

“And your body is badly injured.”

“Blue balls will hurt harder,” he says.

I laugh. “I have an idea. Why don’t you lie down?”

He looks at me as if he’s going to fight me on it, but I lift my head up and press my lips against his. I slide my tongue into his mouth, and I massage my tongue against his until I feel his body soften. I push him, urging him to roll onto his back.

He finally gives in and collapses back onto his back. I reach down and grip his cock to make it up to him. He lets out a low growl, which urges me on top of him.

I sit on his abs, my thick ass pressing against him, and his cock hot against my back. I’m careful not to move forward toward his rib cage. I lean forward, my palms pressed into the bed above his shoulders. I feel his thick cock slide between my ass cheeks. He reaches up and slaps it against me.

“I can feel how wet you are,” he whispers.

“That’s just a hint,” I say. And to emphasize my point, I raise myself up above him, and I press my wetness against the tip of his cock.

His hips buck up impatiently, and I lower myself down onto him. His girth and warmth fills me. It’s a tight fit as always, but a new rush hits me, and I’m driven to move. To feel him sliding in and out of me.

His strong, possessive hands grip my ass as I ride him, and he bucks his hips against mine to press himself deeper inside of me.

As I ride him and hear my flesh slap against his, I dare to imagine we can stay together in a real way. That we can live with each other beyond a day-to-day existence.

Even as my muscles burn and my lungs gasp for air, I move faster and faster. I can’t move as fast or as long as Alex can, but I’m on top now, and I can’t make him regret letting me ride him.

I lean forward, and he squeezes my breasts, struggling to keep hold of them as I buck wildly on top of him.

“Turn around,” he whispers. His voice is full of commanding presence, and I slow down. I look down at him with his cock buried deep inside me. He flexes his cock and it swells within me.

“Do it,” he urges.

I raise myself up, and his cock slides out of me. It’s still rock hard and pulsing, and I grip it as I turn around.

It hurts to lose sight of him, but as his hands grip my waist to pull me back down, I can close my eyes and imagine exactly how he looks. I can see his eyes running along my curves, and his abs tightening as my wetness swallows him whole.

As I lower myself down and he presses back inside me, I arch my back and feel his cock hitting my inner walls in glorious new ways. I gasp and pull my shoulders back. Alex slaps my ass and starts to thrust into me even though I’m sitting on him.

I take his hint and start to bounce up and down on top of him.

“Your thick ass looks so good,” he says, his voice heavy. “Bouncing up and down all over my cock.”

I look back over my shoulder at him, and I clench my inner walls against him, and I watch as his eyes roll back into his head. An evil grin covers my face, and I lean forward and ride him for all I’m worth.

His cock starts to rub against my g-spot, and I move however I can to keep that friction there. To feel him pressing against that most sensitive spot.

It doesn’t take long before the feeling intensifies so much that I feel like I’m flying over Alex rather than just riding him. My breasts heave and bounce and my ass slaps down hard against him after each thrust. Alex strives to move beneath me, and if he’s still in pain from his injuries, he’s not showing a hint of it. He doesn’t slow down for a moment, and if anything he’s moving faster and faster.

Then everything peaks. In a blissful, beautiful moment we unite. We move as one. I scream and he grunts. I tighten, he releases.

His cum fills me, and my body keeps riding him. My walls clench along him, urging his cock to fill me with every last drop. And he does.

I cum so hard that I have to pull off him. I fall down beside him, and he shoves my hand away–which is pressed against my clit–and he fingers me as my orgasm burns itself out. I shudder a few times, gasping for air, and finally I curl my body up against his, wrapping my arms around him.

We lay there for a long time. A very long time. Or maybe it’s just one of those moments that feels long because each second is so packed with meaning. Between each beat of my pounding heart, new thoughts rush through my mind. I need to say something, something like–

“I love you,” he whispers into my ear. Stealing the words right from me.

“You…” I whisper, “I–”

He presses his finger to my lips. Our eyes are mere inches from each other. My leg is hoisted over his waist. I can feel his semi-hard cock pressed into my thigh.

“I’ve never been the first one to say it,” he says. “Hell, I’ve never even meant it when I said it. After some woman I didn’t really care about dragged the words out of my mouth.”

“So why did you say it now?” I ask.

“Because,” he says. “This time is different. This time I really do mean it, so hell, I should be the first one who says it.”

I feel tears in my eyes, and I smile like a big dumb idiot.

“You didn’t say it back,” he says.

“God,” I say, the tears finally streaming. “You idiot. I was just about to say it. You beat me by seconds!”

He laughs. “You still haven’t–”

“I love you,” I say. “I love you. You might have said it first, but I bet I felt it first.”

We argue about it for another ten or fifteen minutes, or for as long as it takes before we settle the argument with me starting out on top, only for him to flip me onto my back and pin me down against the bed with my legs wrapped tight around him.