After he comes, he keeps his word and makes me come with his mouth and his cock.
Twice.
* * *
I wake up to my mom making Tracker breakfast in the kitchen. You’d think she’d be opposed to my relationship with a huge, tattooed biker, but no, my mom just goes with the flow. I suppose she had a thing for bad boys too, considering who my dad is.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I hear her tell him, sliding him a plate piled high with a mountain of bacon. She’s busy in the kitchen while Tracker sits at the breakfast bar.
He looks down with wide eyes. “Thank you, Nicole.”
“’Morning,” I say, glancing from Mom to Tracker.
“’Morning, baby,” Tracker says with a smile, standing up and coming to me, giving me a hug. “Help me eat all this food, please.”
I smile into his chest. “As if you can’t finish it.”
“I’m gonna go to bed,” my mom says, “Just got in. Take care of my daughter, Tracker.”
“Always,” Tracker replies, looking at me when he says it. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“No problem,” she calls out as she makes her way to her bedroom.
I look up at him. “Ever had a girl’s mother make you breakfast before?”
He grins. “No, this is a first. Your mom is a nice lady. Can see why you’re so sweet. She’s also the first mom ever to actually like me.”
I laugh. “She doesn’t judge people. If I’m happy, so is she.”
“I better make sure I always keep you happy then,” he murmurs, leaning down and sucking on my lower lip.
“Mmmm,” I sigh. I’m loving the normality of our behavior, the way he looks at me and touches me. “Let’s eat and get to the clubhouse before Faye has to go to work.”
“Okay,” he says. “Better get to work on this pile of bacon.”
“You don’t have to eat all of it.” I laugh.
“I know. But . . . it’s bacon.”
“Greedy.”
“Cute.”
We get to the clubhouse just in time.
* * *
Later that evening, as we lie in his bed, Tracker announces, “I’m gonna be gone for a couple of days.”
“Where are you going?” I ask quietly. I don’t want him to go.
“On a run with the men. Club shit, babe,” he says, tracing a pattern over my bare shoulder with his finger. I want to ask where he’s going and what he’s doing, but I know he won’t answer. Can’t answer. Can I get used to this lifestyle? “One of the prospects will pick you up and take you anywhere you want to go.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“You being with me means people can try to hurt the club by hurting you,” he interrupts, kissing my collarbone. “Just humor me, all right? For my damn piece of mind, just let me make sure you’re safe.”
“I don’t know any of the prospects,” I protest. “It will be awkward.”
“You’ve met Blade,” he says gently. “He’ll be the one dropping and picking you up. I trust him. And if anything happens, just call me, okay?”
I have met Blade. He’s younger than me, around twenty-one, and a pretty good-looking guy.
“Okay,” I concede. I remember what happened with Anna when she tried to leave the clubhouse without an escort. She was kidnapped. Yeah, I didn’t want that. With Tracker gone, at least I could get some writing done, even if I would miss him like crazy. He’s become such a huge part of my life so quickly. It’s amazing but terrifying.
“Okay?” he asks warily, pulling down the blanket and licking my nipple. “You’re not gonna give me shit? Just . . . okay?”
I nod, now concentrating on what he’s doing with his tongue. “Yeah.”
“Fuck, you’re so good to me,” he says, now sucking my nipple into his mouth.
“Pretty sure it’s you being good to me right now,” I rasp, closing my eyes, my hands fisting the sheets.
He blows on one and then the other, teasing me. “You’re mine, Lana. I’ll always take care of what’s mine.”
Freeing his hair from its bun, I run my fingers through it, cradling the back of his head as he worships me. Tracker loves making love, but he also likes playing, just like this, with lazy strokes and slow seduction. He’s not always in a rush to make us both come. Like right now, sometimes he just enjoys being with me, drawing out my pleasure. One of his fingers slowly touches me intimately, the softest of caresses. He’s going to kill me. Death by pleasure, I’m sure it’s a thing. If it’s not, then it should be.
“You gonna miss me?” he asks, licking down my stomach.
“No,” I reply, earning me a nibble just under my belly button.
“You sure?” he asks again, pressing openmouthed kisses down my inner thigh.
“I’m sure,” I say in a husky tone. “I won’t miss you one bit.”
He flips me over in one quick motion and spanks my ass.
“Don’t lie to me, Lana,” he says, sounding amused. “You’re gonna miss me like fuckin’ crazy. Get up on all fours.”
I slide up on my knees, spreading my legs.
“Good girl,” he croons. “Now tell me.”
He licks me once, right on my sweet spot, spreading my thighs with the hard grip of his hands. “Tell me what I want to hear.”