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In the midst of the guys’ conversation, I found myself drifting to the outskirts of the group, my gaze never leaving Dorothy. I knew she missed Imogen and wanted to spend time with her, but I couldn’t help but count down the minutes until we could leave.
It had been far too long since I had been close to Dorothy, and we had some catching up to do.
Dorothy
Rocco’s strong hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer to him as he thrust deeply from behind. The sensation was overwhelming, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I arched my back, pressing myself against him, desperate for more.
“Please, harder,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper as I begged for him to take me to the edge and beyond.
Rocco’s pace quickened in response to my plea, his movements becoming more urgent and intense. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy crashing over me, igniting a fire within that threatened to consume us both.
He groaned my name, his voice husky with desire, as he reached his peak of pleasure. I felt him release himself inside me, filling me with his warmth. The sensation was intoxicating, leaving me breathless and trembling in his embrace.
He collapsed onto the bed beside me, pulling me close to him. I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. In his arms, I found solace and satisfaction, a feeling of completeness that I had never experienced before.
I nestled against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as we caught our breath. Nothing else mattered except the two of us, lost in the afterglow of our lovemaking.
I knew that I was exactly where I belonged.
“Ro,” I called.
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed in my ear.
“This isn’t going to end, is it?” I asked.
Rocco’s response was a low growl, his voice dripping with determination. “What do you think, babe? I got exactly what I want, right here.” He paused for a moment, his gaze locked with mine. “You.”
His words were like music to my ears, reaffirming what I already knew deep down. We weren’t just playing games; this was real, and it was exactly what we both wanted.
We shared a tender kiss, and my heart flipped when I realized that Rocco and I wanted the same thing.
Rocco climbed out of bed to shut off the lights before returning to my side and wrapped his arms around me protectively.
“Did you talk to the guys about the squirrels?” I inquired, unable to shake the nagging worry that had been gnawing at me.
Rocco grunted in response; his muscles tensed at my question. “Yeah, they think it’s probably some punk kid, too, but they’re going to help me look into it tomorrow. If anything, if we don’t find who’s doing it, I’m assuming it will get back to them that a bunch of bikers are looking for them. I wouldn’t worry about it after tomorrow.”
His words flooded me with relief. It was comforting to know that I wasn’t alone in dealing with this strange situation and that Rocco and the club had my back.
“Thank you for taking care of it,” I murmured.
Rocco’s response was typically modest. “The club is taking care of it, babe. I don’t really feel like I’m doing much.”
I tilted my head back to look at him, my heart swelling with affection. “You believed me, and you talked to the club to help me. I didn’t have to do anything.”
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his touch gentle and reassuring. “You’re sweet, babe. But I didn’t really do anything.”
I sighed contentedly, allowing myself to relax into his embrace. I felt a surge of gratitude for everything Rocco had done for me, not just in this situation but in every aspect of our relationship.
I couldn’t help but feel thankful that I had found him, that fate had brought us together. And as I drifted off to sleep, I silently prayed that nothing would ever take him away from me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rocco
“Ope, we’ve got a runner,” Monk’s voice echoed through the quiet streets, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Monk, Mace, and I were on a mission, walking a two-block radius around Dorothy’s house. I wasn’t entirely sure what we were looking for, but the tension in the air told me that whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
