Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Somehow in all the changes though, he makes me feel like I’m sacred. I’m a treasure.
He kisses down my neck, across the curve of my shoulder until I’m trembling. Not from cold.
But from being seen. Being heard. And being understood.
The way he worships me without a single word makes me fall in love all over again.
He shift us gently lowering me back onto the pillows as his body is stretched over mine. He’s holding himself over me, like I’m precious, fragile. His lips move against mine, delicately. Then my jaw, then lower. He kisses every stretch mark whispering about their beauty. He cherishes each mark on my body from our son. I blink fast against the tears forming as my chest tightens in appreciation for the man with me.
“You’re gonna make me cry,” I tell him the truth.
“Then cry. Whatever you need to do, darlin’ I kiss every tear. I’ll treasure every inch of you, every emotion you feel, and I’ll give you everything you need for the rest of our days with every breath in me.”
This isn’t about sex. It’s about connection. About being us outside of the diapers and sleepless nights. It’s about us.
Justin settles between my thighs, his fingers stroking softly, his mouth trailing kisses all over me. My hands tremble as I touch him. He goes slow, reading my body, my breath, the shift in my hips, until I’m coming alive under him.
When he finally inches inside me, it’s careful, tender. It’s like he’s taking up space not just in my body, but soul deep. That’s our connection.
I gasp in pleasure as the flood of emotions hit me. Overwhelmingly raw. I didn’t realize how much I missed this. I missed him. I missed being loved not just in words, but in being with him.
He still inside me, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us panting, not moving though, just existing as one.
I wrap my arms around his neck and whisper, “I’m okay. I’m here and you’re here. I love you, Justin.”
His hips move, slow, like a steady heartbeat. My body aches in new ways. My insides softer remind me I’m still alive, still whole. He kisses me through every shift, every moan, and every shaky breath.
Tears slip from my eyes and Justin kisses them away like a quiet vow to wipe them away for always.
“I love you, Dia.” He whispers against my lips. “Every inch, every change, I love them all. You’re move beautiful now than ever imaginable.”
I let his words wash over me. Putting me back together. In this moment, I don’t feel broken, tired, lost, confused.
No, I feel completely loved.
I don’t answer.
I just hold him closer.
He moves again, remaining slow, patient, steady—like he knows I need to be touched where my fear lives. Where my doubt lives. Where the part of me still expecting loss is hiding.
His lips brush mine between every whisper:
“I’m here.”
“You’re safe.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I cry when I come.
He holds me until my breathing slows.
Afterward, we lie tangled in the sheets, our fingers laced.
“Two reasons,” he murmurs.
I turn my head. “What?”
He kisses my knuckles.
“You gave me two reasons not to give up.”
He touches my heart.
“And then our son.”
I smile through the tears.
“I don’t deserve either of you,” he adds.
“Yes, you do.”
“Then I’ll spend every day earning it.”
I fall asleep with his hand on my belly, his breath in my hair.
And for once, I let myself believe in a future that doesn’t end in loss.
There is a new road in front of us. The one behind us was a rough ride, but we are better for it. And this new ride is one I can’t wait to embrace.
EPILOGUE
DIA
One Year Later
All I’ve ever wanted is this.
The wind in my hair. My hands on his waist. My knees hugging the curves of a bike as the road unfolds like a promise in front of us. The sound of a hundred engines roaring like thunder behind and ahead of me. Not just a ride, but the ride of a lifetime.
The Tail of the Dragon.
Three hundred and eighteen curves in eleven miles, slicing through the Smoky Mountains like a legend carved into asphalt. A road made for the brave, the bold, the stubborn. The ones who need to feel alive to remember they are alive.
It’s not just a road. It’s a rite of passage.
And today, it’s mine.
I’ve dreamed of this moment for years. But dreams shift. Roads change.
Back then, I pictured riding behind Benji—Clutch. We didn’t make it here before I lost him. I imagined us flying around those bends, him laughing, me clinging to his back like the girl I used to be, untested and still whole.
But that girl’s gone.
And in her place stands someone I had to become.
Today, I ride as an ol’ lady in the Hellions MC.
But more than that—I ride with him as one.