20

Bloom's bewildered expression when I opened the car door for him prompted a silent vow to myself—I'd make this a regular gesture. In addition to holding his hands, kissing him, and telling him how beautiful he was. He'd missed countless experiences. The bikers had done the best they could by him, but it was up to me to fill in the gaps. Despite my initial reservations, I was now involved with him, and I was determined to ensure his happiness.

I extended a hand to help him out of the car. Slamming the door shut, I placed a kiss on his forehead. "Lead the way."

Bloom acting all shy was the cutest thing ever. When he dropped his gaze and a smile touched his lips, my heart fluttered. "You don't have to do all that."

"Do what?"

"Open doors for me and stuff like that."

"I want to."

"It feels weird."

I took his hand in mine. "Do you want me to stop?"

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds, then shook his head. Good. Because I wanted to be the one who showed him affection all the time. I never wanted him to regret letting me be his first.

We walked up the steps to the clubhouse. I pushed the door open for him and followed him inside toward the loud laughter and the hum of gruff voices. Bloom groaned.

"Seems like everyone is here. I should check in and see if I'm needed."

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I needed him, but just like Crowe wouldn't make him choose this morning, I couldn't come between him and his brothers. Not unless they were putting him directly in danger.

"Hot damn, Bloom's brought a man home!" the biker I recognized as Bay cried, bringing the lively conversations to a halt. We became the center of attention, stopping the bikers in their gambling, drinking, smoking, and doing some serious petting.

"Why not take a picture? It'll last longer." Bloom sounded annoyed, but he was grinning. Of course he was. I was the trophy he finally got to bring home. If only he knew he was the real prize.

"Come join us for a drink," another biker said. What was his name again? "Let's celebrate…you know." He winked at Bloom.

"Sorry, can't. Just came to grab some stuff. Then we'll head out."

"Not so fast." Gunner smirked, rocking back on two legs, his arm around the chair of the man next to him—former police chief, current husband to a criminal. "You gotta introduce us to your man, Bloom."

Bloom raised his chin in a defiant gesture. I squeezed his hand to put out the fire burning inside him. Did they think I would cower before them because they were bad men? The men in my past would make them seem like babies.

"It's okay." I stepped forward. "Everyone, I'm Dr. Logan Collier. Don't be surprised if you see me around more often."

"Oh?" Gunner flicked a lighter on. "Is that so? I don't recall giving you permission to be here today, much less to come back."

I narrowed my eyes. He was deliberately fucking with me. "I don't need to be here, but considering your business, I suggest you be nicer to me. Never know when you might need me to save your life."

Bay chuckled. "He got you there, Gunner."

Gunner scowled. "I'm doing your job, motherfucker. You just gonna let him date your kid like that? He'd gotta be at least twice Bloom's age."

"I didn't get a say over you fucking a cop, so you don't get to have an opinion about my love life," Bloom said.

"But he's right, Bloom," Bay said. "We just want what's best for you. How do we know that's the doc? We should run a background check on him."

Shit. A background check? The US Marshals had done a good job erasing my past and establishing my new persona, but if the bikers went digging, they could find out who I was. Information on the Internet never truly vanished.

"Cut it out, Bay."

I held Bloom back when he lunged forward. "It's okay. They're just teasing us." I hoped like hell they were. "They'll get over it soon. As much as I'd like to stay here and entertain you all, Bloom and I have plans for the day. If you want to interrogate me further and question my motives, you can call and make an appointment."

"I'm gonna get you back, Bay, and tell Gerald all your dirty little secrets." Bloom pulled on my arm.

"Should have filed for that restraining order when I suggested it, Doc." Ben grinned. "Now you're in as much trouble as I was."

Gunner turned to him with a scowl. "What kind of trouble is that? You calling being with me trouble?"

Their voices faded as Bloom and I made our exit and walked down a long hall. Bloom let out a frustrated sigh. "They can be so irritating. How can you be so calm?"

"That's the way siblings react to each other. It shows they care about you. I wish…"

"You wish what?"

"Nothing. Where's your bedroom?"

"Right there." Bloom stopped in front of a door with caution tape and a chain with a padlock. I raised an eyebrow.

"You sure you don't want to go in before me and hide the bodies first?"

"Haha. Now you're teasing me."

"Because when you pout, you look so adorable."

I tipped his chin and placed my lips over his. He sagged into my arms, all his irritation melting away. His lips parted under mine, and our tongues met in a languid waltz that sent sparks down my spine. How could he taste of innocence and rebellion—an intoxicating blend—at the same time? I pressed him against the door.

"Bloom?"

I sprang away from Bloom. A dark-haired young man stared at us wide-eyed. Dammit, there were way too many people here. How would I remember all their names?

"Max," Bloom said breathlessly. "Is Crowe here?"

"No." Max glanced at me, then back at Bloom. "You're bringing someone into your room?"

"Yeah. This is Logan…my…" He looked at me as if seeking permission.

"Boyfriend."

Bloom grinned. "Yeah. My boyfriend."

"Hot damn. Jamie won the bet! Jamie won the bet!" Max grabbed his phone and ran along the hall.

"What was that about?"

Bloom shrugged. "I guess they made a bet about us."

"Is that common?"

"It's a biker club. Lots of gambling goes on, and now our love life seems to have made its way into the betting pool. I guess we're the new entertainment."

"Can't say I've ever been used as a bet."

Bloom unlocked the padlock and removed the chains from the door. "You're not mad, are you? I can get them to stop."

"Nah, it's harmless fun."

"Yeah, the boys aren't any threat. They just like to have a good time."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you hang out with them?"

Bloom entered the dark bedroom and flicked on the light. "No. I don't think I fit in with them."

"Why do you—holy shit."

Bloom's room was a gothic paradise. The room was small, but he'd utilized the space to showcase his style. The walls, painted a deep charcoal, served as a stark backdrop to several posters from iconic bands like The Cure and Bauhaus. Their monochrome images blended seamlessly into the room's aesthetic. A single window, draped with a heavy black velvet curtain, barely let any light in, enhancing the somber atmosphere. The canopy bed looked like something straight out of an Edgar Allan Poe's tale, draped with black lace and silk. An assortment of crystals, mostly obsidian and black tourmaline, were showcased on floating shelves.

On the night table to the left stood a striking lamp that seemed like a relic from another era. The metalwork base boasted a baroque influence with its flourishes and curving lines. The lampshade was dark red with black lace overlaying the fabric. It reminded me of Bloom: tough but delicate. A half-burned candle in a claw-footed holder and more gemstones were on the other night table. Against one wall, a full-length mirror stood next to a black lacquer-finished dresser with skulls adorning the top and jewelry draped on a skeletal branch. Pushed in the corner was a black vanity desk bearing a makeup box resembling a coffin.

"Wow." I stepped farther into the room, my eyes wide as I drank in every inch of Bloom's decor. "Your taste is…incredibly specific."

When he didn't respond, I turned around. Bloom was chewing on his bottom lip and pulling on his shirt. Was he…worried I wouldn't like it? "Do you think it's weird?"

"It's different, but it suits you."

He released his lip and smiled. "All right. Let me throw some stuff into a bag."

While Bloom flittered around the room, gathering clothes and whatever he needed, I ran my fingers lightly over the black velvet curtain, the material cool beneath my touch.

"You have a private bathroom?" I hadn't expected that, given several people lived in the clubhouse.

"Yeah, not all the rooms have one, but the newly built ones we added when we moved to Smoky Vale all have their own."

I slowly turned the doorknob.

"Nooooo!" Bloom rushed over and threw himself between me and the bathroom. "You can't go in there."

"Why not?"

"It's a mess."

"So? I want to know everything there is to know about you." The door was already cracked open, so I reached over his head and shoved it wider. The black decor didn't surprise me. He'd even gotten a black toilet, but what held my attention was the area where a sink basin should have sat. Bloom had transformed it into a kind of altar.

In the center was an enlarged photograph of me, one I didn't recall posing for, framed by a thick ornate frame. Draped over the corner of the frame was a delicate chain with a forked cross pendant. Around the idol was a constellation of objects: a polished skull, its empty eyes seeming to gaze directly at my image, while to the other side, a goblet wrought from blackened metal and studded with small, reflective stones, stood ready, as if for a ritual. The small space was crowded with other offerings: a circle of wilted flowers, their petals a deep maroon; a lock of hair, which by the color I assumed was mine; a pen he must have taken from my desk; a knife and a tie.

The entire ensemble was bracketed by a series of candles in holders that ranged from simple black pillars to more elaborate candelabras. Their presence gave the impression that the space was both hallowed and haunted.

"I didn't want you to see it." Bloom sounded stricken. His face was pale. He ducked under my arm and made a run for it. I caught him around the waist and pulled him against my chest. He sank his teeth into my arm.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I whispered.

He loosened his grip on me, his chest rising and falling. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to what?"

"Worship you. No one was supposed to know."

My heart skipped a beat as I processed his words. "Worship me?" I swallowed hard, my eyes darting back to the altar. The items on the table suddenly held a darker, more intense meaning. This wasn't just about Bloom's taste in décor; this was about obsession. This was about devotion, and I didn't deserve it, but by god, I wanted to.

"You're going to tell me it's wrong, aren't you?"

It was on so many levels. He shouldn't put me on a pedestal like this. I was mortal like him. There was nothing special about me.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me how you worship me."

"What if you change your mind about me?"

"I won't. I swear."

With a reverence that bordered on sacred, Bloom entered the room. He picked up a lighter and lit each candle methodically. The soft sounds of the flame catching on the wick were like a call to silence, to respect. The flickering candlelight painted his features in a dance of shadow and warm glow, making the scene ethereal.

He took up the photo, my photo, with a trembling hand, and his lips met the glass in a tender, devoted kiss. He replaced the frame and kneeled before the altar, bowing his head low in silent prayer. Though I wanted to know what he was mumbling, he seemed so serious in his worship I dared not disturb him. His voice rose louder until I could make out low chants of vows and pledges of a lifetime of fidelity and loyalty as he bowed over and over.

"Today I vow once more to be only yours in my heart, mind, body, and soul. I pledge myself to protect, to revere, and to honor only you. For in you, I see the divine. You are my hope, my redemption, my salvation."

He pressed his forehead to the floor, then straightened. "Nothing but death shall separate me from you. My hands are stained with the blood of men, but through the symbol of your blood, I am made clean."

He rose to his feet and took the goblet and the knife. My breath quickened as everything became clear. This—this was what he'd been doing when he cut his thigh open. How much blood had he lost since meeting me to fulfill this ritual?

It would be so easy to laugh at him, to call what he did madness, to wash my hands of him and walk away. But his devotion humbled me. When I was pushing him away, he was treating me like a deity. Despite the wildness of it all, there was a certain beauty in his faith, a serenity that washed over me as I witnessed his devotion.

"Don't." I stepped forward and pried the knife out of Bloom's fingers. I shouldn't encourage him, but everyone needed something to believe in. Who was I to take that away from him? He wasn't harming anyone.

"I have to," he said, eyes desperate. "If I don't, the ritual isn't complete."

But I couldn't bear to see him lose any more blood. I made a shallow cut across my palm. A thin line of blood bloomed against my skin.

"You can't hurt yourself because of me."

I offered my hand to him, blood seeping out of the cut. "I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore. If it's blood you need, then let it be mine."

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between the wound and my eyes. Slowly he brought my palm to his lips. The warmth of his mouth contrasted with the sting of the cut. His tongue was gentle as he tasted my blood, a connection as intimate as it was startling.

The air in the bathroom thickened. Bloom's gaze met mine. His pupils dilated, swallowing the green of his irises. He pulled away, my blood smeared over his lips. A shiver ran down my spine. The front of my pants was tight against the zipper of my jeans.

The fierce need to have him right in front of his altar consumed me, and I pulled him into my arms. Our bodies crushed together, and his bloodstained lips found mine in a fevered kiss. My heart hammered, but I had no fear or doubt left in me about him. My eyes prickled with tears. This man who worshiped me, who bled for me, was mine, and I was his.

He broke away from the kiss, panting heavily. His eyes burned with an intensity that made my heart flutter. He glanced at the altar, then back at me. He grabbed the hem of my shirt, tugged it up, and threw it onto the floor. His touch seared my skin, a brand of ownership and devotion.

I mirrored his actions, discarding our clothes until we were naked. The heat flickering from the candles seemed to intensify against our naked flesh. Bloom's gaze swept over me with so much adoration and reverence it was overwhelming.

"Silly, Bloom." I caressed the graceful curve of his neck. "You're the one who deserves to be worshiped. Don't you know that? Today I'll show you."

I found towels in the storage over the toilet and spread them out on the floor.

"Do you have any lube?" I asked.

"In the night table. The one on the left."

I hurried to the bedroom and found the bottle of lube with the seal unbroken. I returned to him, laid him down on the towel, and covered his body with mine. He hitched a leg over my hip, moaning into my mouth. Tearing my lips away, I set about on my expedition of his body. He trembled beneath me, but I kept going, kissing and suckling his skin, even when he begged me to make him come.

"Not yet. I promised you I'd worship all of you. Every single inch."

He wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me closer. My lips traced a path from his jawline down to his collarbone, then descended farther still, leaving a trail of hot kisses over his chest. He writhed beneath me, gasping for breath and muttering my name in desperate tones that only encouraged me.

"Logan, please."

"I've heard your pleas this time, Bloom, and I'll answer them."

My journey continued, hands wandering over his toned abdomen, tracing each muscle with delicate reverence that elicited a shudder each time. I kissed my way down toward his navel, savoring the taste of his skin mixed with the faint tang of blood lingering in my mouth.

With every caress and kiss I administered, I let him feel the depth of my devotion mirrored back to him, what he had been giving me all this time.

As I finally reached the juncture of his thighs, his back arched off the towel. I took him into my hand gently, stroking him lovingly as if he were the most precious thing on earth. Bloom bucked against my touch, eyes glazed over with desire and cheeks flushed ever so prettily.

Pressing his legs open wide, I licked down his taint to his pink hole. A shudder ran through him as I circled his entrance with my tongue, teasing him until he was squirming beneath me. If I wasn't already aware of how much he loved me rimming him, I would definitely know then. He clenched the towel, his breath coming out in short, shuddering gasps.

"Logan…Logan…" He keened my name like a prayer, his voice cracking on each syllable. Every moan and whimper was a hymn, which spurred me on to dart my tongue inside him. I coaxed a surprised yelp from him. He bucked his hips wildly, and I clamped a hand down on his thigh, steadying him while I continued to explore him.

"Please, please," Bloom sobbed. "I can't take it anymore."

He was shaking against me. I hadn't planned to have sex with him again so soon after taking his virginity last night, but his flushed, naked body was calling for me to bestow my blessing upon him. How could I let down the one who believed in me most?

With my free hand, I grabbed the lube, unscrewed the cap, and squeezed a generous amount onto my fingers. I coated them well, then slipped a finger into Bloom alongside my tongue. Slowly I penetrated him, adding another finger and stretching him loose.

"Now. Please, now."

I cursed under my breath, taking my cock in hand and guiding it to his entrance. I rubbed the head of my arousal against him, teasing as I pressed just the tip inside. His body spasmed beneath me, and he dug his fingers into my back.

"Looooooooogan."

For once, I wished he wouldn't use that name.

Mindful of how much he'd had to accept from me last night, I worked the tip of me inside him, fucking him with shallow thrusts.

"Deeper," he whimpered, his hold on my back becoming more forceful.

Sweat pooled between us, slicking our bodies together as I pushed deeper inside him. His heat enveloped me in a tight grip that threatened to unravel me. We moved together in a slow grind, his hips rising to meet my thrusts in a sweet slide of skin against skin. He gasped out loud, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself go completely.

His surrender was the most beautiful acceptance I'd ever seen.

I laced our fingers together above his head, holding him down as I continued to love him with every inch of my body. Every thrust was slow and deliberate, making sure he felt everything about our connection. Bloom wrapped his legs around me, pulling me farther into him. His head rolled back against the towel as his cries grew louder, echoing off the tiles of the bathroom wall.

"Logan. Logan…I…I…"

I gritted my teeth against my instinct to fuck him hard. Sweat dripped down my temples as I found his lips with mine, kissing him. "Beautiful Bloom." I pressed my face into his neck. "You're the one who deserves to be adored. This sexy little body of yours is driving me wild."

I lost myself in the rhythm of our bodies, the slow friction building a heat that suffused through every cell of my being. His body was a temple I worshiped diligently, mapping every inch with my hands and mouth. His noises were growing incoherent, my name interspersed with pleas that only spurred me on.

I plunged my hands beneath him and cupped his cheeks, keeping him at the perfect angle as I focused on hitting that sweet spot that made him cry out the loudest. Grunts and our labored breathing mingled. I gave him every inch of me. He stiffened beneath me, unraveling. His body arched off the floor as his release spilled between us, splattering our stomachs. His cries turned into breathy gasps as I continued to thrust in him through his climax.

"Bloom," I groaned, my orgasm looming dangerously close. His inner walls clamping down on me in aftershocks of his climax sent me over the edge. With a final deep thrust, I let myself go, spilling into him with a grunt.

We lay there on the towel, panting, our bodies slicked with sweat and spent arousal. Carefully I pulled out of him, feeling a twinge of guilt when he winced.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"Who cares?" He grinned lazily. "You continue to worship my body like that, and I will be your devout follower for the rest of my life."

Smiling, I slid down his body, draped his legs over my shoulders, and did the thing he liked best. I lapped my cum from his ass, cleaning him and soothing him at the same time with languid strokes. He got hard again almost instantly. To be young and inexperienced. With my mouth, I drove him to the edge, catching the tip of his cock between my lips when he came again.

"You're so good with your mouth." Who would have thought Bloom's contented sigh and happy smile would make my heart feel light? I liked seeing him this way, relaxed and not in a combative mode. It hit me then. I had to show him he didn't have to be the one to fight. He had me now.

I helped him to his feet and held him when his knees gave out. He clutched my arms, looking embarrassed. "I don't know why that happened."

"I do. We need to give your body a break."

"I'm fine. I still can't believe how amazing it feels to have sex with you."

Chuckling, I brushed a damp lock from his forehead. "That doesn't mean we have to do it all the time. We can wait. Sometimes the wait is even worth it."

"Logan."

"Hmm."

"Did you think what I did was weird?"

"It's different." He stiffened in my arms. "I think it's sweet. When did you put it together?"

"A couple of weeks after we first met."

A lot sooner than I would have thought, but what did it matter? Everything worked out fine. All I had to do was live up to the expectations he had of me and never let him down. How could I not let him down when I was lying to him about who I was?