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Shane Donovan is a bad idea for a million reasons. But so am I. He has no idea what demons live in my head. Secrets that eat me away at night. We’re starting a fire we won’t be able to contain, and I can’t help myself.

For days I’ve been pretending not to miss him. Sleeping in his bed and trying to ignore the fact that every morning I woke up with my head on his pillow. I’ve been telling myself that he’s just some biker who walked into my life at a convenient time and that we’re doing each other a favor.

This can’t be anything.

It can’t mean anything.

But then Shane’s hand moves down my throat, between my breasts, and I forget why I’m supposed to be rational. He grabs my hip, and it feels like we’re picking up right where we left off.

God, I need him.

In a way that has nothing to do with money or reputation or sex. Although, I do hope Shane does deliver on mind-blowing, life-altering sex. But this is more. When his kiss deepens, I open.

It’s trust, safety, genuine connection.

“I missed you,” Shane murmurs against my jaw as he slowly works his way down.

His lips brush my throat, my collarbone, pausing so he can tease my nipple with his teeth through my T-shirt. I’m a complete mess from working at Ransack all day, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

“I missed you too,” I admit with a moan as he tugs my nipple, and my back arches off the bed. “Damn it. It’s not fair when you use your mouth and hands to get these kinds of confessions.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” He smirks, his eyes darkening as he slides lower until his knees hit the floor, and he’s tugging me to the edge of the bed. “If that’s the case, let’s see what kind of confessions I get when my tongue’s between your legs.”

My pulse hammers in my core. He pulls off my boots, and my heartbeat thunders. Shane undoes my shorts, slipping them off with my underwear, and my brain is so fuzzy that sounds are muted.

I’m sure the party continues down the hall, but I can’t hear anything over the thump of my clothes falling to the ground.

Shane hesitates for only a second, his dark eyes on me as his palms widen my thighs. Beneath the lights in the room, I’m completely exposed. His gaze fixes on my pussy, and I tense, my knees rocking together. He shoves them open, refusing to let me hide.

That flicker of control doesn’t scare me. If anything, I relax. I submit to this trust I’ve handed him, knowing he’s sincere. Knowing he handles me with care. Knowing he sees my heart and isn’t afraid.

Shane likes all of me, and he wants me just like this.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my thighs. His gaze is hungry and desperate.

When he’s yet to move, I smirk. “I thought you were going to make me confess my sins, Shane. Chickening out now?”

A wicked grin curls in the corners of his mouth. “I’m really going to enjoy making you eat those words while I eat you out. Hold on, cowgirl.”

His large palms slip from my thighs to my ass. Grabbing hard, he pulls me to him, lifting my core to his mouth and diving between my legs with intensity. He doesn’t kiss or tease.

He feasts.

“Fuck.” I grab his hair, holding on for dear life.

His chuckle vibrates my clit, and when he sucks, I see stars. Shane’s tongue flicks back and forth, my hips fighting against the pleasure because it’s so intense. His fingers curl, not releasing my ass, holding my pussy to his mouth as he devours.

And those eyes—those nearly black eyes that suck me into the pit of bad decisions—don’t leave me. He watches my every reaction. Reads my every gasp and blink.

Shane draws a figure eight, skating down and fucking me with his tongue. I claw at his skull, gripping his hair, and hold his face against me as pressure starts to build.

I’m rippling. My bloodstream is a wave, coursing with every pulse of his tongue. Every nip of his teeth. It’s an out-of-body experience.

I can barely handle it.

“Shane, it’s… it’s too much.” My head thrashes, but he doesn’t let up. He palms my ass and seals my pussy against his mouth, lapping at me with hot strokes until I’m shaking.

“You can take it,” he murmurs against my clit, sending my brain spinning as he hardens the end of his tongue and flicks it over and over again.