Epilogue

Three Years Later

Kayla

"You're boyfriend's here."

My eyes shoot up to catch sight of the tall handsome man walking into the restaurant, his eyes seeking me out, darkening once they spot me seated at one of the empty tables. I bite my lips as a flush climbs my neck, and suddenly, he becomes my sole focus.

"It's my husband, Lana. Get it right."

"I know. I just say it to get your reaction," she snarks, and I feel more than see her roll her eyes.

Other than my husband and the crew of dangerous men he rides with, Lana is the other person I am thankful to have in my life. She made my time working at the bar a memorable experience, and she's been a great friend through the years. We remained close even after I quit my job as a waitress and went to culinary school. Heck, she was with me when I had my baby a year ago and became my little angel's godmother. I'll probably regret that decision in the future when my daughter decides she thinks Aunt Lana's blue hair is cool and begs me to dye hers too.

Even so, she became the sister I never knew I needed, and a few months ago, when I decided I wanted to open my first restaurant, I knew immediately who I wanted as my manager. What a great decision that was. She helped me hire the amazing staff we have and makes the environment fun for everyone.

Between my food and Lana's great management skills, we've raked in more business than I could've ever dreamed.

Tonight, she has been telling me about her fiancé and the woes of dating a handsome bartender over a glass of wine. It's way past closing with the staff sent home, but we wanted some time to catch up before calling it a night.

"You should probably head home. I'll close up," I tell her, pushing my wine glass away and starting for my husband.

"You don't need to tell me twice," she says, gathering her things and rushing for the exit. Despite her openly talking about sex, it seems she hit a limit after running into Cash and me going at it in the back room. Now she just disappears into thin air whenever Cash and I are in the same room with no one else around.

And she has every reason to.

A part of me thought this deep hunger for my husband would wane when we got married or had our first child, but it only seems to grow. Whenever he's nearby, there is something about him that sets me off.

One time, it might be his strong masculine scent, and another it's his deep sultry voice. Tonight, it's that perfect body of his, highlighting his masculine frame that has my body tingling with need.

Christ, I want him.

I fling my arms around him the second he's within reach, dropping my face to his neck and breathing in a lungful of his familiar scent of leather and smoky cedar. That alone is enough to have wetness slicking my sex. "I missed you," I whisper, nuzzling his neck.

"I can see that," he says with a deep chuckle that sends my entire body vibrating with need. A shudder racks my body when he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against him, causing his erection to press against my stomach and letting me know he wants me just as much as I want him.

"Did you see our little Dana before you came here?" I ask him, referring to our daughter, Dana Grace, named after my mother. Her name was Cash's idea, and I didn't think I could fall any deeper in love with my husband, but he'd proved me wrong next to that hospital bed. Well, that was until he set up a trust for our daughter like my mother did for me, then I knew I had married the right man.

"She's with Sky tonight," he tells me, referring to the club president's wife, a sweet woman who adores kids and routinely babysits for us. "Dana is in good hands."

Oh, I have no doubt about that. It's hard to tell who gets more excited about spending time together, Sky or Dana.

I found my family with the Steel Order Club, a notorious gang of rough bikers who appear mean and scary to the rest of the world, but in reality, are just a bunch of gentle giants with a passion for riding bikes, who love their wives and adore the hell out of their kids.

But tonight, I don't need anything gentle from this giant.

"Thanks for coming to pick me up," I say, grabbing his hand and guiding him to the door that leads to my office. "I should thank you properly for that. You're always giving me rides, anywhere I need to go."

"Anything for you," he rasps, backing me up to the desk. I gasp when he slides his hand under my dress and grabs my panties, yanking them down my thighs with his eyes still locked on mine.

"Even so, I should show my appreciation . . . Oh!" I cry out, my back arching when he runs his middle finger through my folds and teases my entrance.

"I just got here. How the fuck are you already this wet?"

My breath catches in my throat when he slides his middle finger into my pulsing sex. "Y-you do that to me . . . Oh, God!"

I jerk against him when he adds his index finger, thrusting them slowly into my sex, and soon, the small office fills up with the obscene sound of his fingers sliding wetly into me. I throw my head back as I ride his fingers, moaning deeply when he cups my breast over my dress.

Cash leans down and brushes his lips over my neck, nipping gently at my earlobe and licking the column of my throat. "I want to feel you come around my fingers," he rasps into my ear, his hot breath fanning my skin. "Then when you are trembling from the orgasm, I'll fuck you so hard and fast, rut you with my cock so hard, you'll be feeling me for days."

"Oh, Cash," I cry out, wrapping an arm over his shoulder and bracing against the desk with the other as he drives his thick digits into my pulsing sex until I am practically sobbing for release. I get my wish when his thumb joins in, strumming my clit and sending me over the edge with a hoarse cry. I jerk hard against him, trembling as my sex pulses needily around his fingers.

I've barely come down from the high when my husband spins me around, forcing me to grab onto the desk with both hands for support. The sound of him unzipping his pants is all the warning I get before he enters me. I gasp as his hand snakes into my hair and grabs the thick strands for support before he starts pounding me like a sex-starved manic. His breath is unsteady as he slams his cock into me with little control.

"You're mine," he growls deeply, pulling my hair until it stings, but I love every second of it. I love everything about this man. From the ways he makes love to me to the way he takes care of me outside our intimate moments. The way his passion burns, setting us both aflame is the one thing I know will stay with us forever.

I soak up the pleasured sounds he makes as he draws me back to the edge, but more than that, I revel in being the reason he falls apart the way he does. And when I come, he is right behind me, burying his seed so deep inside of me that we both groan as my sex constricts hard around him, milking him of everything.

Mine, he calls me, reminding me of the fact that I will forever be his, but in reality, I am the one getting the better part of the deal.

He's mine, and I will fight just as hard as he does to make sure it stays that way forever.

~The End