“I know,” she agrees, lifting her hips so the tip nudges her entrance. “Please fuck me, Ev. I need you filling me.” Her words are my undoing, and I hold her hips tight and slide into her, feeling my skin prickle. Nothing feels as good as being inside of her.

“Yes,” she hisses, locking her legs tighter as my pace picks up. Thumbing her clit, my eyes move from where my cock is disappearing inside of her, her breasts that her hands are cupping, her hair spread out on the counter, and her eyes closed with her lips parted.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I hiss through my teeth, grinding my hips into hers while my thumb works faster. Feeling her start to convulse, I pull her up with my hand behind her neck. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, and I cover her mouth with mine, thrusting my tongue inside, tangling it with hers while her silky walls clamp down around me, making me come hard and fast. Slowing my strokes, I glide in and out of her before planting myself deep at the root.

Our mouths never separate, even as we both pant for breath and she whispers, “I love you.”

Moving my mouth from hers, I drop my forehead to her chest. “I love you too,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her back, even though those words do not even begin to define the way I feel for her.

“I won’t ask you to help with the wedding anymore,” she says quietly after a long moment, while her hands trail down my back.

Pulling back, I hold her face gently in my hands and kiss her, whispering, “Thank you.”

“You could have said something.” Her hands move to my jaw while her eyes watch her fingers glide over my beard. “I just assumed you’d want to be a part of it.”

“I can’t speak for all men, ’cause I’m sure some guys get off on shit like planning weddings, but that’s not me, beautiful.”

“I kind of know that now.” She smiles, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “My mom was actually surprised by your involvement this week. She said she would have to tie my dad to the chair if she wanted to discuses flowers and stuff with him. And you made it through five days of not only flowers, but cakes, colors, and venues.” She grins, moving her fingers to glide over my lips.

“I would do anything for you, baby, even sit through that shit all over again.”

“So you’re saying you’ll be here when my mom comes over later?” she asks, biting her lip.

“Fuck no,” I groan, and she drops her forehead to my chest, breaking into a fit of laughter that I feel in my dick, which is still semi-hard and deep inside of her.

“It was worth a shot.” She giggles then squeaks as I lift her off the counter.

“I will, however, continue to entertain you until she gets here,” I mutter, lifting her up slightly before dropping her back down on my cock, letting her feel that I’m ready to go again. It doesn’t take much for her to get me hard. Hell, her fucking voice is enough to put me on edge.

“Oh,” she moans, locking her arms around my neck, while I carry her back to the bedroom. Keeping my promise, I entertain her while she rides me, and then I take her into the shower and entertain her with my mouth, making her come twice more before carrying her half-asleep to the bed, where I leave her with a deep, wet kiss and a promise to see her in a few hours.

“Yo,” Sage greets, sliding into the booth across from me, pushing a yellow folder across the table toward me before looking across the bar at the waitresses. With a lift of his chin, he calls her over.

“I’m guessing since you have this”—I hold up the envelope—“you got something.”

His eyes come back to me. “Not sure,” he mutters, then looks at the waitress when she comes to stand at our table.

“What can I get you?” she asks quietly, avoiding looking at him in the eyes.

“Just a beer. Whatever you have that’s cold,” he says, and she nods before wandering off toward the bar.

Opening the envelope when she’s gone, I pull out a stack of photos and flip through them. Nico’s been working on closing up the loose ends on his case, while Wes and the guys have been building theirs. We know for a fact Jordan is attempting to build up alliances within the club. What we don’t know is exactly who he’s convinced to follow along with him, so Wes asked me to recruit Sage to see what he could find out. Scanning the photos, I pause on one and study it.

“What is it?” Sage asks, and I flip the photo over and push it across the table.

“When was this taken?” I tap the picture of Jordan standing outside next to his bike, talking to a woman, a woman I swear I’ve seen before, but can’t place.

Picking up the picture, his eyes scan it and he shrugs. “Last Saturday night, I followed him to a bar downtown. When he got there, he didn’t go inside. He stayed on his bike, parked out back for about ten minutes, before she came out the backdoor to talk to him.”

“Why does she look familiar?” I ask myself, studying the picture.

“I don’t know. Did you hook up with her?” he questions, and my eyes narrow when they meet his. “Do not fucking go there,” I growl.

“Just asking, man. I don’t know who she is.” He frowns, looking at the picture. “He gave her something. I couldn’t see what it was from where I was parked. But I did notice she made sure to keep herself away from him, even when he tried to reach out and touch her. She moved away before he could make contact.”

“Fuck,” I clip, realizing that the woman belongs to one of the new members. I haven’t seen her more than a couple times, but studying the picture, I know it’s her. “That motherfucker.”