Iris

I slept. I know that without having opened my eyes. I did after years of troubled nights. I drifted into a deep slumber for hours. I was safe, Rage's body so close to me. He fell on the pillow and didn't even turn to look at me. I could see the titanic effort he was making controlling his own self from jumping off his skin. He did this for me and I was happy enough to see him so close. I rolled on my side as I always do to keep off my back facing him and I stared for what seemed like hours. Just watching the angles of his flawless face, his brawny chest going up and down, his muscles tensing as if he is going to be attacked any moment. He was in the same state when my eyelids got heavy and I slept.

I flutter my eyes open and I see that it is still early out. The other thing I instantly know is that he isn't in the bed. But I feel him close, he is in the room. I sense him. I turn my head softly and I see him, sitting on the floor where the pale light of the new-born day fills the room, only in his jeans and he is crouched. For a moment I dread he is carving himself up and fear chills my soul. Fear that me asking him to sleep close upset him.

But he isn't. He is bent over some notebook with a leather cover and he holds a pen in his hand. He is drawing! My mouth drops and I don't move so not to alert him. He is so focused, so concentrated. And calm. Tears come up into my eyes and I feel them roll down my side. I have never seen him so peaceful, his whole body relaxed, no lines on his beautiful face. I can't see what he is drawing but he is giving it all his soul. Curiosity takes the best in me and I sit up. His eyes shoot up instantly.

"Good morning," I blush.

He says nothing. Just closes the notebook and tightens his fingers around it. He then hurries and gets up.

"Good morning," his gruff voice reaches me and I lick my lips. "You slept well."

"I did. Thank you."

He runs his fingers through his mohawk as I get up and approach him. I see the thin lines around his eyes and the dark circles under his eyes and I lift my fingers to trace the lines around his eyes.

"You didn't sleep well."

"I was afraid to sleep. The Hellhound might have woken up to hurt you."

I smile softly and I wrap my arms around him. Once more he hisses at my intimate touch but then he rests his chin on the top of my head and he pulls me closer too. I inhale his essence deep and stay there. I would be glad to wake up like this every day for the rest of my life. But I want more. I crave for more.

I smile and I tighten my arms around him to let his fingers through my hair and I look up into his eyes and he leans closer. I throw my head back and his lips claim me while his arms tense around me. This is so hot, I get lost in the sensation his lips provide and my hands roam on his body with zeal. He is so incredibly strong, so perfectly chiseled I simply can't get enough.

He doesn't stir away from my touch and I want to cry out in happiness. That man, that amazing, beautiful man is mine to touch, to kiss, to feel. My one hand goes up his biceps and my other dares explore the valleys of his muscled torso. He growls in my mouth but doesn't break the kiss. He deepens it, putting his hand on my hips and pulling me against him. Sweet Mother of God, I feel all of him. His hard muscles on my chest, his tense hands on my hips, his lips on my mouth, strands of stray hair on my face. And most of all I feel his bulging erection against my belly.

I do this to him, I blush but my need is greater. All I can do is wrap myself around him and kiss him with all I got. I feel the same despair come over him as he grinds slowly holding me in place with his strong arms. I need him more, now, and I rub my body to sparkle new feelings, my nipples hard and my core wet.

Then it's gone and I am deprived of him. He looks down at me with a heavy look, laden with lust and fear. This is too much for him. He is giving me too much, more than he can bear. I nod with a smile and I swallow to control my body.

"I'll make us some breakfast," I have to dispel the awkward silence between us.

"You are working today?" Rage still doesn't let me go.

"I have to. The Riders are getting ready for the wedding. I want to help Bjorn finish before that."

"After work..." he hesitates and I arc my neck to look into his eyes. "After, we are going to the beach."

"That would be great," I give him a big smile.

I manage to dispatch myself from him and walk away. I have more than I ever dreamt. Silly as it sounds, it's true. Who would have thought I could feel happiness? I barely hoped to be alive by now. But now I am so much more than alive. I am happy. I go to make us breakfast while dreaming of the walk on the beach.

For the next week, life flows like this. We sleep together, we wake together. Breakfast together and then I would go to work with him guarding me from across the street. After work he would take me out for a walk, to show me the town, the sea, discover the world I never knew. And then back to his room, lying next to each other. Sometimes we sit out at the bar with Runner and the rest of the brothers and we just talk and have fun. The Riders have accepted this new situation between Rage and me – whatever it may be – and don't seem surprised. And they may not even dare tease Rage, they sure tease me in such a childlike, friendly way, I barely hold back crying.

We kiss a lot Rage and me. In the morning, for goodnight, each time we see each other after a long time, sitting on the bike, going for walks. We are exploring this new experience like children and I love every second of it. We have missed out on being two regular kids, enjoying having a date, going to the prom, homecoming and all that and we are making up for it. His kisses are always deep, desperate as if he fears I will dissolve in his arms any moment. And I tighten my body around him to let him know that I am not going anywhere, usually to feel him hard in his jeans.

I want more. I am getting more and more greedy. The more he gives, the more I want to take. I long for more, for his touch all over my body, for his kisses to be deeper. Every night when he lies naked beside me I see him struggle with himself, I see his excitement, the bulge under the covers, the heated look in his eyes. He never touches me more, never draws me near. I know that he fears of losing control. But I need him to. I want him to lose control, to claim my body, to hold me and roll me under his strong body and quench the fire he stokes every time he looks deeply in my eyes. Then again, I know the terror in his heart. I don't want to distress him more. So I strive to be content with what I got.

"You done?" Bjorn takes me away from my desires and thoughts.

"Need a hand?"

"Yeah. You are better with the delicate stuff," he points at a bike he's been working on.

I smile and walk over. I have completely gained Bjorn's trust around the garage and he no longer looks over my shoulder when I work. I have even heard him comment to a client that expressed his doubts that "she's the best damn mechanic I've seen".

"So," Bjorn says as he bends over Vince's bike, "you and Rage..."

I smile widely at the mention of his name and my body mellows. That's how far deep I am gone. Someone says his name and I smile like an idiot.

"OK, got that part," Bjorn mocks.

"Hey, you should see your face when you talk about Ava."

To prove my point, Bjorn's eyes glisten with joy and though he fights his smile, it's there on his face. Is it possible? Is it possible for me to have it all? A job I love, friends that make me feel good and Rage in my life?

"Well, kid," Bjorn demands attention, "Ava is my Valkyrie. And..." he hesitates.

"And?"

"And my...my lover, kid," Bjorn blurts out "I mean..." he shakes his head in embarrassment.

"Oh my god, Bjorn!" Ava's voice fills the garage. "Ask the girl already. You need to practice, Daddy."

Bjorn drops what he is doing and comes up to Ava and pulls her for a wet kiss. My Valkyrie. My lover, his words resonate in my head. I am neither for Rage. Could I? My heart starts racing but Ava opens her arms for me. I clean up and return the hug. I have heard stories about Ava while spending time with the Riders and I still can't believe that this smiling, tender woman can be that bad-ass.

"How are you, Iris? Your back?"

"I am good," I smile to let her know I really am.

"You look so good," Ava caresses my face motherly. "Gone is the girl that fixed my car a while back. This is who you really are."

"Thank you. No matter how many times I tell it, I can't never repay it."

"Forget it," Ava waves her hand. "Now, does this incredible improvement has anything to do with a certain, tall and handsome as hell – pun intended – tattooed motherfucker that watches you like a hawk?"

I blush. Every fiber of my being on fire is because of Rage. I am holding it together, I am healed, moving forward, seizing life for the first time because he is there for me.

"That much is clear," Ava chuckles and then leans closer so that I am the only one to hear, "And have you taken it to the next level?"

From blushing I go to crimson red. Sex. She is talking about sex. Me and Rage so intimate, naked, in each other's arms. It scares me and exhilarates me at the same time. Of all the bad things that have happened to me in my life, being raped was the one thing life didn't throw at me. Tamie protected me at high cost from the men my mother brought back and that wanted something more when she passed out from the drugs. As for Daultrey...His disease has incapacitated his ability to have sex and that added to his sadistic streak. He got joy from the pain, his whip was his penetration.

"We... We haven't."

"Look at that!" Ava smiles widely. "The Hellhound is the most gentleman of them all. Just take care of yourself, Iris, OK?" she adds and touches her belly.

I gape but I don't get the chance to say anything more. She gathers me for one more hug and then goes for her man and gets lost in his arms. And I am left there, filled with the image of Rage naked, kissing me, touching me, making love to me. Sweet Lord.

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