Kristen Ashley - Fire Inside

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Lanie Heron isn’t looking for love—no surprise, considering her last serious relationship nearly got her killed. So when Lanie propositions Hop Kincaid, all she wants is one wild night with the hot-as-hell biker who patrols with the Chaos Motorcycle Club...
For Hop, Lanie has always been untouchable. She’s too polished and too classy for his tastes. But when she gives Hop the once-over with her bedroom eyes and offers him a night in paradise, he can’t say no. And he doesn’t regret it when he finds that Lanie is the best thing that’s ever happened to him—in or out of bed. Now the trick will be to convince her of that.

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I looked back at her. “It was the best moment of my life until he said last night, ‘Do you have any fuckin’ clue how much I love you?’ ”

Her eyes got big.

“Wow,” she repeated.

“Yes. Now that was wow. ” I pulled in a deep breath and turned to her. “He’s mine. I’m terrified. Love hasn’t gone real well for me. He gets that. He’s patient. We fight. It hurts. But somehow, after each fight, we come out stronger.”

“If it’s right, that’s how it works,” Tyra shared.

“I’m getting that now.”

“I wish you would have told me,” she said carefully and I shook my head.

“I don’t know how it happened, Ty-Ty. I don’t know what I saw that led me to him but I’m glad I followed my gut and my heart because it was Hop I needed to guide me through letting the past go. It couldn’t be you. I was blaming myself for you getting hurt. It had to be someone else and there isn’t anyone in my life, even my sister, who could do it with the tenderness and understanding Hop gave me.”

Her eyes got bright but her lips smiled and she again said, “Wow.”

“Absolutely,” I replied. “Wow.”

My phone rang.

Rider shouted, “Mom! Cut poked me in the eye!”

I grabbed my phone as Tack called, “Boy, get your butt over here. You know, the rare happens and your mother’s in the kitchen, you don’t disturb her.”

Tyra rolled her eyes at me and headed to the living room.

I put my phone to my ear. “Hey.”

“You’re banging a biker?”

It was Elvira.

“Elvira—” I began only to be cut off.

“Okay, I been around those hot boys and I got me a fine piece of goodness in my bed but that don’t mean I don’t notice the goodness all around me when I’m on Chaos. So I get you, goin’ there with a brother. What I don’t get is your two sisters sat there, eatin’ up tasty morsels about your man, and you just stood there like a deer caught in headlights and didn’t say shit?”

“Elvira—” I tried but failed.

“Tyra called me, told me she got the wrong end of the stick and shared Hop was on a break with his ex-bitch when he was doin’ the nasty with a biker groupie. Still, girl, what the fuck?”

“Well—”

“I knew he was a good guy. I can sniff ’em out. The assholes. He didn’t smell like no asshole. So it threw me for a loop, thinkin’ he was a cheater. Thought my radar had gone screwy. Good to know I still got it goin’ on.”

“I’m glad that—”

“But you standin’ there, not sayin’ a word? Girl, you crazy?”

“Actually, yes,” I got out.

“Yeah, you are. Always knew that. Don’t know why I’m askin’,” she took a breath then changed subjects. “Chaos bonded out your mom?”

“Yeah. She’s good.”

“Sistah,” she drew this word out, “you’ve had a helluva day,” she declared and she was not wrong. I heard her shout, “What?” Then nothing, then, “Be right there, baby.” She came back to me. “Date night. Movie, dinner and a little somethin’ somethin’. Pray for me that work doesn’t call him in the middle of our entrée. That happens a lot and it never fails to shit me but what am I gonna do? My man serves and protects. It’s my sacrifice for the population of Denver.”

I grinned at my phone. “I’m praying.”

“Good,” she stated, then, “You happy?”

“Yeah, Elvira, I’m happy.”

“Good,” she whispered. “Finally.”

She was right about that.

Then I heard her shout, “Keep your pants on!” And back to me, “Gotta go. I’m pourin’ martinis in you sometime next week. I want it all but only the PG=rated parts. I do not want to know what that ’tache feels like on your skin.”

Even if she did, I wouldn’t share that.

That was all for me.

She continued, “It’ll give me ideas, and it’ll mean I can’t come over for dinner with you and Hop the week after next ’cause I won’t be able to look him in the eye if I know what that ’tache feels like on my skin. I’ll text you with a night Malik and I can make it. I’m ordering your fried chicken and pecan pie so be prepared.”

I guessed Hop and I were entertaining Elvira and Malik.

That worked for me. I just hope it worked for Hop.

“Right. I’ll wait for your text.”

“Lanie?” she called.

“Right here, sweetie.”

“Keep hold of happy. You deserve it. It’s found you. Don’t let go,” she ordered.

I really loved Elvira.

“I’ll keep hold, honey.”

“Good,” she stated then, “Later, girl.”

“Later.”

She disconnected and I looked through the kitchen to the living room.

Tyra was bent at the waist, Cutter in front of her, and she was talking in his ear.

Tack was lounged back on my couch, motorcycle boots on my coffee table, arm thrown wide, bottle of beer in his hand, Rider on his knees beside his dad, leaning in but his hands were wrapped around a video game that he was resting on his dad’s chest.

But Tack’s eyes were aimed at his woman and he had that look in them.

The look of love.

My gaze drifted to Hop. He was seated almost exactly like Tack except his neck was twisted to look over the back of the couch, his eyes on me.

He had the same look in his eyes as Tack.

But it was all for me.

I felt my face get soft and I smiled.

I watched his face get soft and he smiled back.

Keep hold of happy… It’s found you. Don’t let go.

Finally, I understood.

I was wrong and Hopper was right.

You didn’t avoid having something beautiful because you were terrified of losing it.

You fought to keep it.

And when you got it, you kept hold.

I was going to keep hold.

Always.

Chapter Eighteen

At My Mercy

Five months later…

I was done, coming down from my climax and grinding into Hop. He had his hands on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh, grinding me down harder when he groaned into my chest.

I was astride him, he was sitting up, my fingers were in his hair and, as he came, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

When he was done, he slid his hands up my back and glided his lips and mustache up my chest to my neck where his mouth worked.

I let the sweet feeling of Hop’s mouth moving on my skin sink in and decided it was time. Friday night. The weekend. Hop was mellow. He’d just come. I’d just come. I’d known for a week. He had to know.

I had to do it now.

“Uh… honey?” I called.

“Right here, lady,” he murmured into my neck.

“How are you, um… feeling?” I asked, seeking confirmation he was in a good place before I laid it out.

His head tipped back and I saw his lips tipped up.

“You seriously askin’ that shit?”

It was, perhaps, a stupid question.

Then again, my news was huge and it could bring on a variety of responses and I wanted a good one.

“Well—” I started.

He wrapped his arms around me as he answered. “My dick is buried in my woman’s wet tight cunt and I just came. How you think I’m feelin’?”

Okay, it was a stupid question.

“I need to tell you something,” I shared.

He registered the look on my face and stopped smiling. “What?”

Here we go.

“Well, remember when I started having those headaches and we thought it was about me going to counseling and dealing with all that stuff, but you made me go to the doctor and he did some tests and told me to try going off the pill for a while and then, after that, there were those two times things got, uh… heated and we didn’t exactly—”

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