After three days of painkiller-coma-sleep I needed a shower. I smelled worse than the dead, I smelled like a guy stuck on a plane that hasn't been inside a shower for a year and all the air circulating in the plane is his stench that by the time you land, you're the first one in tears begging to get off!

Dragging myself to the bathroom I saw that the shower was basically a raised lip in the floor with a curtain that went around the two sides that weren't walls. I'd soaped, scrubbed, done three rounds of hair conditioner, and shaved both legs up to the knees realizing I was still showering alone. I actually pulled the curtain back thinking I had heard something. Decided I was hallucinating and just stood beneath the water letting it sink into the craters of my skin. Hoping the burning sensation would burn away the last 2 months.

I didn't so much hear the door open as feel the line of cooler air invading the foggy warmth of the bathroom. I couldn't see anything through the curtain. I turned to face where the curtain opened, razor still in my hand. My pulse had sped up, my body already tightening.

The curtain parted and Chibs was standing there, tanned beneath the tattoos of the road and perfectly nude, his salt and pepper hair falling past his eyes, loose and free and covering nothing. I should have chastised him that he was risking himself. That he was safer away from me. That he was basically the sergeant-at-arms of the original nine. I should have said a lot of things but I didn't.

I stepped out of the water and into his arms with a sound that was suspiciously like a squeal. I let his arms and body wrap me close and raised my face for a kiss from those lips. I had a moment to gaze into those charcoal brown eyes as if they were the earth beneath my feet. He stared back down showing a soft heart beneath old wounds and was kissing me before I could close my eyes and give myself to his lips, his mouth, and his hands gliding over the wet slickness of my body. It was as if that kiss were air and water and everything I'd been needing.

He picked me up, my feet leaving the ground, and I wrapped my legs around him as he shut the curtain behind us with one hand and walked us into the pounding water of the shower.

As he let me stand on my two feet beneath the water, I felt the water pour over our faces as we kissed, so that it was as if the water were part of the kiss: pounding, hot, streaming down our skin, beating against my upturned face as the kiss grew more eager. I could feel him pressed between us, his body growing eager with the kiss.

Somewhere in all the touching, the kissing grew from gentle to something with force and need. We celebrated our kiss on the floor of the shower. I started with him on top so I could see all that amazing beauty only a biker could have. His body began thrusting in and out of mine, but the shower kept spraying around his body and it was a race to see if I'd cum first or drown first. He chuckled and moved me to my knees, letting me laugh, until he entered me from behind and stole the laughter and the breath from my throat from a moment, with the sheer pleasure of him inside me.

He spread my legs farther apart, his hands controlling my body, keeping me still so his cock could glide over that spot inside my body over and over again in long, slow, full strokes. Then his rhythm picked up and began slamming into me faster and faster. His hands clutching my buttocks to guide him deeper inside me, "Chibs, Chibs, Chibs…" I moaned softly. As he slowed down the pace I could hear him breathe now, and that he was fighting to keep it even, and steady as the rest of his body. Control your breath and you control so much.

Between one stroke and the next, the pleasure spilled over me, through me, so that my body pulsed and beat with it. I screamed my pleasure into the floor, and it echoed back at me, deafening. He held his rhythm, though I could feel his fingers travel up my ass and wrap around the sides of my ribs, as he fought to keep me as still as he could, and with every stroke he brought me again, so that it was orgasm after orgasm.

"Fuck…Nancy…I want you so badly," his voice strained as I felt him pull out suddenly and spill his cum to the floor wasting his climax at my feet. I turned to look up at him over my shoulder, confused and lost for words.

"I love you, Nancy," he said in a shaky voice.