“So, you want me around for a while, Andie, or was this just another one-night stand for you?” he asked in that in-between nothingness before I became lucid again.
We weren’t panting anymore. Lying in the moonlight, arms lazily embracing, I hadn’t felt so peaceful in months, maybe years. I certainly hadn’t been as sexually satiated as I was at that moment. I hated his question disturbing my peace; it required too much thought.
“I never want you to leave,” I said dreamily. Was this Andie Sommerville speaking—or some demented clone of myself? I actually meant it.
I could tell he was smirking, and we’d have to put a stop to that shortly. But at the moment, let him smirk. I was smirking too.
I let this rough edged biker into my life.
In one way it actually felt liberating. Hey, I
