“Half the guys here are gonna laugh. Everybody else standing up here knows exactly what I'm talking about.” I looked at my brothers, and they all wore the same fuck yes expression. “Fuck if that matters. The only thing that's ever meant a damned thing to me is right in front of me.”
I grabbed her, pulled her close, loving the little bulge in her belly against my abs. “Love you every damned day of my life, Ell-Bell. I'd relive our wedding every morning if I could, and I'm gonna feel the same way 'til my heart stops pounding in my chest. You're mine, baby, glued to my life like cement. You're still gonna be my girl when I'm too damned old to even tear across the country anymore.”
My hand went to the back of her head. She didn't need any encouragement to smash her mouth down against mine.
I devoured that woman. Kissed her with the same crazy intensity we'd shared for months, the flame I couldn't believe I'd ever lived without.
“I love you!” she hissed into my ear, digging her fingernails into my back, and then again, louder, when I finally broke the kiss. “Love you forever, Asphalt.”
Didn't think anybody heard her except for me over the loud shouts of the crowd. Didn't matter either. This woman and me, we went to our own private universe lit with love and lust, even when we were surrounded by about a hundred people.
“Kiss her one more time and hit the road, son,” Blackjack said. “This club has earned some happiness in every single mile we've won.”
I nodded at the Prez. He didn't have a woman at his side – shit, I'd never so much as seen him pull one of the club sluts into his office – but he was celebrating too.
We'd gone six months without a fucking shootout. Six months with nobody in the clubhouse taking more serious damage than a bad hangover.
Goddamned record breaker. Times were changing for sure, and the bear finally meant something more than blood and violence.
We'd kept our freedom. And now we'd added all the other glorious shit to our list.
Love. Family. Brotherhood.
“Let's burn some fucking rubber!” Roman roared. “We got a long haul to Oregon and we oughta be there by sunset.”
Everyone laughed. The giant had gotten unhinged today, his stoic shit wearing down. He threw a huge arm over his girl and they walked over with Brass and Missy, passing their toddler to Jackie, who'd be watching the kid while they got some alone time.
“See that shit, Elle Jo? That's gonna be us in a few more months.” She smiled at me and I leaned closer, putting my lips against her throat.
“Guess you'd better fuck me a few more times to make up for what we'll miss when the baby comes,” she teased.
I looked at her like she'd lost her fucking mind. The wicked smirk in her sweet lips only made my cock hammer harder in my jeans.
“You better be fucking kidding, woman,” I growled sweeping her into my arms. “We'll be up fucking all night once we get to the campsite. And we're not gonna stop, not even when we're spending our nights on two hours of sleep, running after the kids. You think you're ever getting a break from this, you've got another thing coming.”
I kissed her harder this time, my tongue probing deep into her mouth. Found her sweet little tongue, flicked it, and ruled it. I fucked her lips with my tongue the same way I'd glide between her legs later tonight.
Fuck, fuck. Blood pounded through my dick, anticipation streaking through me like a drug.
How the hell did she taste so perfect every single second?
“I hope so. Last thing I'd ever want is my old man going soft,” she purred, tipping her face away from mine before I could steal more. “This is like our wedding night, right? The one we should've had?”
I grinned. “Damned straight.”
Everybody wearing a Grizzlies MC patch rode out in formation, probably the last time I'd ride with all my boys and their girls before Elle Jo got too big for my bike.
Fuck if I didn't love her anyway. Shit, truth be told, I loved her more with that bump in her belly, a constant reminder that we'd become man and wife the deepest way we could.
We'd said our vows at the altar. I'd renew them with her every damned year if it'd make her happy, but no vows could ever compare to the ones we'd written in flesh and blood.
We wouldn't be alone. Our club would look like a goddamned nursery in the next couple years now that the rest of the brothers had gotten hitched.
Brass and Missy. Rabid and Christa. Sally and Roman.
Even Stryker and the other prospects would probably shack up before long, putting the dwindling numbers of sluts who came to our club parties outta work for good. There's always be bastards who fucked around on their girls too, and I'd never get their stupid asses.
The girl riding pressed up behind me had felt like my bride forever. But we'd just got through with the closest thing we'd had to a real wedding, seeing how the first one was a clusterfuck of outside obligations.