I held him close and Shy stayed buried deep, his hand holding mine tight, his breath heavy against my skin, mine the same against his.

Surfacing from under the wave, it struck me that I was wrong both times before.

Shy this close, buried deep, holding my hand, his breath against my skin… this was paradise.

Before I could catch a thought, fully process how beautiful the moment was, Shy let my hand go and shifted, falling to his back, one arm wrapped around me, one hand cupped at the back of my head, our bodies still connected.

Okay, before, paradise, but lying on top of Shy’s warm hardness was far from shabby.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he rasped.

I blinked at the corded column of his throat with its kick-ass medallions attached to the thin, black bits of leather resting against his skin.

I tried to lift my head but his hand at the back kept it where it was and he repeated, “Promise me, Tab. Do not ever leave me.”

Oh my God.

What did I say?

I didn’t lie when he was moving inside me. I missed him when he was gone. Further, it wasn’t just sex we had. I didn’t have a lot of experience, but I knew enough to know that. It was more. It was a connection. A promise. And when he came to my place just over two hours ago being intense and bossy, not only was that hot, it was awesome. It was what I needed to stop denying all I was feeling and finally admit what he meant to me.

But this was too much.

Maybe not too much but definitely too soon.

“We have to talk,” I told him quietly, and his hand left my head so he could wrap his arm around my shoulders.

I lifted my head to see his chin ducked down so his startling green eyes could capture mine.

Okay, looking into those eyes, those beautiful eyes that looked sated and warm but intense and serious, all hot, all gorgeous, I thought maybe it wasn’t too soon.

“Yeah, Tab, we got a lot to talk about. You’re right. This is not gonna go easy.”

Uh-oh.

What did he mean by that?

He didn’t make me wait for an explanation. “We got a lot to sort through. I gotta tell you how I spent the two hours since I was at your place. We gotta work out how I lose my mind when you need to go into your head and freeze me out. We gotta work out why you freeze me out when you go into your head. And, baby”—his hand drifted up my shoulder to curl around the back of my neck—“I know you know and I’m also sure it isn’t lost on your dad or Cherry that I got a reputation. They find out we’re an us, I don’t see good things. Fuck, half the brothers in the Club are not gonna think good things. Pete’s already givin’ me looks and has been for a while. When we leave this apartment, you and me gotta be on the same page. But sayin’ that, sugar”—his voice dropped—“what just happened was somethin’ that was bigger than all that. It was bigger than everything. I had a taste of you four years ago that I could never get off my tongue. Now, I’ve tasted more of you with more than just my mouth and I know I wanna keep it in a way I don’t want to think of it bein’ done. Not in a few weeks. Not in a few months. Maybe not ever.”

Oh wow. It could be said all that was too soon too, but it also had to be said I liked it.

Like, really liked it.

So much I melted automatically into his body.

I slid a hand to his neck and whispered, “Shy.”

He kept going, “So promise me, right now, my dick still inside you, you naked on top of me in my bed, us sharing what we just shared, us having a taste of what it’s like apart and knowin’ we’re better together, you won’t leave me. You won’t go in your head and take off no matter what. You stick with me until there’s nothing to stick to, if that ever happens.”

I could promise that.

“Okay, darlin’. I promise,” I said quietly. His eyes closed slowly then they opened, his hand sifted into my hair and pulled my mouth to his.

He gave me a soft kiss then his fingers squeezed my head gently.

I got the message, pulled slightly away and he whispered, “Hate losin’ you but you gotta shift off me, honey. Need to get rid of this condom then we can talk about shit I don’t wanna talk about with you sittin’ on my dick.”

My lips twitched, I whispered, “Okay,” then I shifted off him, slowly, taking my time, not liking the feel of losing him but really liking the way his eyes got lazy as I slid him out of me.

Once I’d lost him, he rolled me to my back, bent and kissed my chest, then kissed the underside of my jaw and rolled off the bed.

I watched him hike up his jeans as he walked away, appreciating his ass as he did so. Then my eyes shifted to the Chaos tattoo that spanned his back, and I appreciated that too. All of this I appreciated while appreciating the loose-limbed way his lanky body moved before he disappeared though a door.

I moved my eyes to the ceiling and smiled.

He had the same thoughts I had, exactly. He knew we needed to talk and he knew what we needed to talk about. He was going to give me that.

I rolled toward the edge of the bed, reached out a hand, and nabbed my panties, and since Shy’s tee was close, I nabbed that as well. I shimmied my panties on while lying on my back, sat up, pulled his tee over my head, and my smile came back.

His shirt smelled of him.

Another piece of paradise.

Arranging myself cross-legged on the bed, I looked around and surprise hit me, tamping down (but not forcing out, nothing could do that except, perhaps, the end of the world) my happy mojo.

Shy lived in an apartment that was just that little bit older and more worn than mine. The carpet wasn’t great. The walls needed a new coat of paint, and they needed that coat about seven years ago. There were boxes all around and no personal touches at all. It was like he hadn’t actually moved in yet.

I’d never been to his place, and I knew he spent a lot of time at the Compound, but I also knew that he’d had his own place for a long time.

Maybe he’d recently moved, though if this was a step up, I wondered where he used to live.

I was in the living room and, weirdly, so was his bed. It was at the wall to the back of the room, but there were two doors on the side of the living room and I figured at least one must be a bedroom. There was a couch shoved up against the side wall, but it was covered in boxes. There was also an old TV on a stand about two feet from the foot of the bed. There was one nightstand with a lamp on it, a bunch of change, packets of condoms, and that was it. No other furniture. No dressers. No bookshelves.

Nothing.

It was somewhat tidy considering any space filled with boxes wasn’t exactly tidy. It was also surprisingly clean. What it wasn’t was a home. Not even close to it. Not even a bachelor pad.

It looked like it was just a place to crash on occasion and store stuff.

This made me feel uneasy.

What didn’t make me feel uneasy was when Shy walked back into the room with his biker grace, his chest on display.

The instant I saw him, I pushed to my knees and moved to the edge of the bed.

Shy, his eyes on me, his face soft, did exactly what I wanted him to. He moved right to me.

I slid my arms around him and pressed my lips to his chest.

He curved a hand around one side of my neck, the other hand he glided up into my hair to curl around the back of my head.

There it was again, that feeling.

Loved.

Right.

I took my lips from his skin and put my chin there, seeing the “Love dies” tattoo.

I’d seen the two tats he had on the insides of his forearms and I’d suspected, like all the brothers, he had the Chaos emblem on his back. These three tats all the brothers had, the two Shy had inked into his forearms the brothers put wherever they wanted. The emblem on his back, all the guys had on their backs. They got the back tat the minute the Club voted them into full membership.

Having never seen his chest, I’d never seen the only tattoo he seemed to have outside the Chaos ones.

“Love dies?” I asked quietly, my gaze lifting to his.

His hand twisted gently in my hair even as his fingers at my neck dug in slightly, and he broke my heart when he replied quietly back, “Had a mom and dad I loved, they died. Had an uncle I loved who didn’t shield us from that bitch and that love died too. One night, I was seventeen, listenin’ to them fight, her bitchin’ yet a-fuckin’-gain about how they had two more mouths to feed, two more bodies to clothe so they couldn’t go to Hawaii or whatever the fuck, and I knew the next day her mood was gonna fuck up my week because she always took that shit out on him first, then on us. He didn’t take our backs during the fight, and I knew he wouldn’t take our backs the next day. That night, my love died for him. I was holdin’ on but it slipped away. I had a fake ID to buy booze so I snuck out the window and went to an all-night tattoo place.” He lifted a hand to indicate the tattoo. “Had this inked on me.”

My eyes moved to the tattoo but went back to Shy, and I leaned away a bit when he bent slightly.

His face got close and he continued, “I was young, pissed, and stupid, sugar. I don’t believe that shit anymore. But ink is ink, it doesn’t fade away. Unfortunately, it reminds me of a shitty time in my life every time I see it.” He grinned. “It also reminds me not to do anything permanently stupid because I’m pissed.”

I grinned back. “Good lesson to learn.”

His grin faded and he muttered, “Not sure I learned it.”

I knew what he was saying so I whispered, “Shy, don’t. We both fucked up and, obviously, it wasn’t permanent.”