Biker's Claim(145)

By: B. B. Hamel



We finished dinner and our drinks, chatting idly about our days. I cleaned the dishes and he dried, and when all of that was done we collapsed onto the couch together, enjoying the quiet and the intimacy of the evening.

I loved living in Chicago. Though I always imagined I’d work at some big fancy research lab at a big university one day, I was really enjoying teaching. I was glad Camden had a real job and wasn’t using his skills to keep stealing cars, although I couldn’t imagine that was something he ever wanted to do again. Not after what had happened.

“Now what?” I asked him.

He pressed his body against mine. “Now what do you think?”

I kissed his neck. “Come on. Really.”

“I don’t know. We don’t need to do anything if you want to stay in.”

I nodded, breathing in his smell. I missed him horribly when he was away, and so I took every chance I could to drink him in when he was home.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

“Sounds good.” He kissed me fully and deeply. I felt like I was spinning out of control with happiness as I wrapped my arms around him, embracing him fully.

“I love you, you know that?” he said after a minute.

“I know. I love you too.”

He kissed my neck. “I fucking worship you.”

“You better.”

He smirked at me. “Now give me what I want.”

I felt a thrill run through my body.

“Whatever you say, future husband.”

I knew I’d do whatever he wanted me to do.

I wanted to give him everything, every piece of me, every inch I had to give.

He had changed slowly ever since we’d moved to the city. He had changed back into the man I knew. The darkness was still there, but it was buried deep inside him. It was like he was coming back to himself.

And I wanted to be there for him. Every single step of the way.

I was his. I was always his.

And that was more than enough for me.

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