Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“We’re done.”
Katie sniffs, tears growing into fat beads on her lashes. “We’re done, Skull. If you’re not going to even admit that I deserve to talk with my brother, then you’re not the man for me.”
Fuck.
“Kate.”
“Don’t call me that, Skull. By the way I don’t even know your freaking name.”
She fists her hair. “I can’t believe I gave my virginity to you and I don’t even know your name. I need to get away from you. You’ve warped my brain.”
There is no fucking way I’m letting her go.
I pick her up, hugging her to my chest and take her to my room. Our room. First, I’m not letting anyone else overhear a goddamned word about her virginity. That’s mine and mine alone.
Second, I can see I’m gonna have to play dirty.
“Put me down!” Katie yells as she beats my back with her tiny fists.
I don’t stop until we’re inside the room and the door is locked. Then I drop her on the bed. She gasps, bounces and gives me a glare that would melt an entire Harley to a puddle.
“You are barbaric.”
“Yep.” I reach into the night stand and her eyes widen.
“We are not having sex.”
“You’re right, we’re not.”
When I pull out the black set of handcuffs, she shrieks. “What are those?”
“These are insurance,” I growl as I grab one of her dainty-as-fuck wrists, locking one end of the cuffs around her arm, and the other around my steel headboard.
She’s panting. Her eyes are wild and I’m fighting an erection with iron will.
“What…what are you doing?” Her voice cracks as she jangles the cuffs loudly.
“You are not leaving.”
I step back, my own breath raggedly pumping like I’ve been sprinting. “And my name is Max Gray. Feel free to scream it all you want while I go beat the intel out of your brother.”
The color climbing up her cheeks is blood red. Katie’s probably never felt murderous before, but all signs point there. Her fists are curled and shaking, there’s fire spitting from her narrowed gaze, and I want nothing more than for her to hate-fuck me right now.
Goddamn, we’d burn this clubhouse down.
But I have work to do.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I pivot and stalk to the door. Locking away all emotion. Becoming the cold motherfucker that gets shit done.
The mean bastard the club relies on.
When I think I can sound halfway normal, I rasp, “I love you. That’s why I’m doing this.”
“Love,” she scoffs. “You sure got a twisted view if you think locking me to your headboard is love.”
“You’re right, I do have a twisted take on love. And there will be a guard outside this door at all times. He will have the key. You will not be in danger because you’re restrained.”
“Max!” She shouts as I open the door.
“I’ll be back.”
“Max! You rotten, mean jerk! You will never get to hear me scream your name while we have sex. Ever. Because we are NEVER having sex again.”
I’m even more of a bastard because I am going to enjoy the hell out of proving she’s wrong.