No one answered. I didn’t care.

It was a lucky day and I was hanging onto that.

The hostess took us to the table.

Hop smoothly engineered a seating situation where he sat by me, which meant he could press his thigh against mine and steal touches to my leg and, outwardly casually but anything but, hook his arm around the back of my chair when we were talking and not eating.

Dad didn’t miss it and wasn’t happy about it, casual or not.

Mom pretended to ignore it.

Molly and Cody didn’t catch any meaning to it.

I loved it.

* * *

“Will they be okay for fifteen minutes?”

I whispered this in Hop’s ear.

It was late August. There was no snow but the golden leaves of the aspens seemed to glitter in the sun, and the mountain air was a shade nippy. Waning summer was on the mountain, which meant daytrippers and weekenders were abundant, and someone had organized kids’ games on the base of a slope.

Therefore, Molly and Cody were currently engaged in a three-legged race with a gaggle of other kids. My guess was they’d win seeing as Hop had given them what he promised, and they were both currently burning through the sugar high to end all sugar highs.

Mom and Dad had murmured that they needed a sit-down with a cup of coffee so they were in a coffee shop down the main drag of Lionshead Village.

This meant Hop and I were alone.

He turned his head and looked at me with warm curiosity. “You good?”

“I will be,” I told him. His head cocked in question and I moved, walking away from the slope to the side of a building where there were public restrooms.

One of them was a single for handicapped people.

I had to admit, I felt some guilt about occupying a handicap bathroom as I walked to it, but when I looked back at Hop, I liked the curiosity I saw in his features.

But the need was on me.

I slid through, holding the door open for him.

He slid in behind me.

I let the door close and locked it.

“Lady, what the fuck?” he asked and I turned to him.

Then I walked right to him, pressing my chest against his and cupping his crotch in my hand.

His head instantly bent to mine, his hand driving into the back of my hair and fisting as he growled unintelligibly against my mouth.

Then he asked, his voice rough, “You seriously down with this?”

“Absolutely,” I whispered. “Hurry.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, slanted his head and kissed me, backing me up until I hit wall.

That was all I needed. Hop’s mouth. Hop’s body.

Hop.

I was ready.

Then again, I was ready before I walked in just knowing Hop was following me.

His hand in my hair, his other one tugged forcefully at my belt buckle, undoing it, then the button of my jeans, then the zip went down and his hand went in.

God, that felt good.

I moaned into his mouth.

“Get these off,” he ordered. “Now.”

Heretofore unknown illicit excitement bolting through me, I moved immediately to do what I was told. It wasn’t easy because Hop didn’t move, his chest pressing into mine, which pressed me into the wall. His hand went to the back of his jeans to get his wallet.

I yanked down my jeans as best I could then shifted my legs to tug them off over my boots, kicking them aside, repeat with my panties.

Hop was free, hard and gloved by the time I did this and he growled, “Hop up.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hopped up.

He caught me at my ass, pressed me into the wall. My legs curved around his hips and he thrust in, hard and deep.

I shoved my face in his neck, held on tight with arms and legs and whimpered.

“Fuck me, goddamn hot,” he grunted into my neck, pounding between my legs.

“Harder, baby,” I urged breathlessly.

He thrust harder.

“Tip for me, Lanie,” he rumbled into my neck and I tipped my hips toward him. He drove deeper and my breath hitched loudly.

“Love that,” I panted.

“Me too, honey.”

“Love it, Hop,” I gasped, suddenly close and it was going to be mammoth.

“Hold on, lady.”

I held on harder than I already was holding, and he moved a hand from my ass to the back of my head half a second before I came, my head shooting back, slamming his hand into the wall.

“Look at me,” he ordered roughly.

I trembled in his arms, holding tight, unable to do anything but feel the beauty of the high.

His hand fisted in my hair. “Lanie, fuckin’ look at me.”

With effort, I struggled through the haze, dipped my chin and looked at him.

He kept pounding, stopped, ground in, and I whimpered.

“All soft, every inch. Got my dick buried in beauty,” he grunted.

I loved that too.

A lot.

I put my lips to his. “Keep fucking me, honey.”

He began thrusting again, harder, faster, pounding me into the wall.

“Yes, beauty,” I breathed. His hand twisted in my hair, crushed my mouth down on his, and he groaned his orgasm down my throat.

I took it in. Happily.

Coming down from his climax, he started kissing me then broke the kiss to slide his lips and mustache down my cheek to my neck where his mouth stopped to work.

I pressed my lips to his neck, took a taste then moved them to his ear.

Closing my eyes tight, smelling him, feeling him holding me, filling me, I knew it was time.

He’d given so much, I could no longer stop myself from giving back.

“I’m thinking I like my shield,” I whispered and his body went solid in my limbs.

But I wasn’t done.

“Thank you, Hopper Kincaid. Suitcases. Sandwiches. Chinese. God’s country. Sweet kids. I didn’t go to sleep last night buried under emotional exhaustion. I went to sleep looking forward to seeing you. That’s a miracle, honey, and you have to know I appreciate you making that miracle happen for me.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak; his mouth stayed at my neck but it didn’t glide, taste, lick. His cock stayed planted but his hips didn’t so much as twitch.

I didn’t know what to do with that. I thought he’d like what I said and his inactivity didn’t say he didn’t but it also didn’t say he did.

I shifted my head, trying to pull back but his hand pressed forward, keeping me where I was.

“Hop?” I called uncertainly.

“I’m in there,” he murmured into my neck.

Yes. Oh yes.

He was in there.

I sighed, moved so my nose tweaked his earlobe and gave him more.

“Uh… yeah. Presently in more ways than one.”

His head went back, he let mine up and he caught my eyes.

I caught my breath at what I saw in his.

“Then don’t thank me, lady. You give me that, it was all worth it.” My teeth came out to graze my lip, his eyes dropped to them and stayed there as he ordered. “Kiss me hard while I’m still inside you then we gotta get back to the kids.”

“Okay, honey,” I agreed, pressed my lips to his, kissed him hard as he pushed me into the wall and ground his hips into mine, which made me give a soft whimper against his tongue before he ended the kiss, eased me back, eased out of me, and eased me to my feet.

I held on as my trembling legs recovered.

So did Hop.

“Steady?” he asked. My eyes caught his and I nodded.

I was.

Steady.

Maybe.

Finally.

I pulled in breath. He bent in to kiss my temple then he slowly let me go.

I went to my panties and jeans.

Hop went to the toilet.

I was leaning against the wall and, with no small amount of difficulty, tugging my jeans over my boots when Hop crouched at my feet, his hands out to help me.

My jeans successfully pulled over my boots, I straightened. He did too and slid an arm loose around my waist as I tugged them up, zipped, buttoned, and belted them.

“Um… not big on putting these back on after they’ve been on the floor of a public bathroom,” I murmured, giving my panties in my fingers a little twirl. “And I don’t have a purse.”

Hop’s eyes got dark but he said not a word, grabbed my panties and shoved them in his front pocket.

Knowing my panties were in Hop’s jeans pocket, my thighs quivered.

“Just so you know,” I started, feeling suddenly nervous, “I’ve never had public handicapped bathroom sex before.”

“Just so you know,” Hop returned, grinning, “I haven’t either.”

“Uh… okay,” I muttered, finding it difficult to hold his smiling eyes and wanting to look at his shoulder. Instead, I lifted my hands to rest them there.

“Stall sex with a skank, yeah,” he went on and my head jerked. “Twice,” he continued and I felt my lips part. “Though, a private handicapped restroom is definitely the way to go with a lady. I’d never do you in a stall.”

He was teasing so I relaxed.

Slightly.

“I don’t think I could do a stall,” I shared.

“Like I said, wouldn’t do you in a stall.”

My lips curved up. “It’s good we agree on that.”

“Yeah,” he replied and tipped his head to the side, asking quietly, “You good?”

I did a mental assessment.

I was.

Shockingly, I not only was good. I was very good, and in more ways than one.

“Yeah,” I answered. It was his turn for his lips to curve up, and then they came to mine for a touch.

When he finished with that, he led me to the door while I asked, “So, is that true? Twice?”

“Yeah, it’s true.”

Wow.

“Bikers don’t have boundaries,” he imparted, unlocking the door, but he didn’t open it so I looked up to him. “Pleased as fuck to learn my woman doesn’t either, babe. I think you clued in when I started fuckin’ you against a wall about a minute after you got me in here that I thought that was hot, but just in case you missed any of that… that was hot.”