Chapter 13
My night was filled with passion.
Savage had only the one condom, but I found there were so many other ways to share pleasure.
He opened my eyes to a world I knew nothing about. He cared more about my satisfaction than his and he spent hours discovering what I liked.
In between bouts of love making, we showered, we cooked, we built intimacy with tender touches and lingering looks.
It was three o’clock in the morning and we were in bed, the bedside lamp casting a warm glow. I studied his tattoos and ran my fingers along his ink.
“How did you get the name Savage? Is it a nickname?”
He shook his head. “It’s a road name. A name my brothers gave me. My real name is Cooper. Cooper Boddington.”
“You do not look like a Cooper,” I said with a smile. “Savage suits you.”
“Thanks, I think.” He looked thoughtful. Savage raised his hand and flipped it over; he pointed to a tattoo at the base of his thumb.
“I’ve known Duke and Willa since we were kids,” he began. “Duke and I were in the foster system, and Willa may as well have been. Her mother wasn’t around a lot . . . Anyway, the three of us have been thick as thieves since we were children. We all have the same tattoo, a three-leaf clover. Two leaves tattered and torn, and one perfect one. The perfect one is Willa.”
I took his hand and brought it closer so I could see his tattoo better. I traced a finger across it. “It’s not faded. Don’t these things fade with age?”
“I recently got it touched up.” His hand curled around mine. “My childhood was bad, Evie. Really bad. And the club . . . they gave me a place to channel the rage that I’d been carrying around inside of me since I was young. I’ll tell you more in time. But I gotta give it to you in pieces.”
“There’s a lot to it, isn’t there?”
“Yeah.”
“So the three of you grew up here?”
“Yeah.” He looked down at me. “What about you? You said you grew up on a farm.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“In Texas?”
“In Oklahoma. Near Broken Bow.” I snuggled against him.
“And your husband . . . how did you meet him?”
“I really don’t want to talk about him,” I stated.
“Okay.” He shrugged like it didn’t bother him. “Tell me more about the farm. What was it like?”
“Smelly,” I joked.
“Do you know how to milk goats?”
I sighed. “Yes. And cows.”
He smiled. “What about chickens?”
“You don’t milk chickens.”
“No . . . did you collect eggs?”
“Yes. And I killed roosters too. Anything else you want to know?”
He scratched his ear. “Did you like it?”
“Parts of it,” I admitted.
“Like what?”
“The self-sufficiency. We had a garden, some fruit trees, our own meat.” I shrugged. “It’s hard, I guess. Busy. There was always something to do. Some project that needed to be done.”
“Do you miss it?”
“I don’t miss being bound to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when you live on a farm there are animals that rely on you. Rain or shine. They’ll take care of you and provide, but you have to take care them too. It’s a lot of work.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about the city just yet.”
“No?”
“Everything is both easy and hard. Does that make sense?”
“Not really.”
I smiled. “It’s loud, too. Very loud. I’m still not used to the noise.”
“So, you prefer farm life, even with all its cons?”
“I understand farm life. I’m not sure I understand city life. It all feels so . . . I don’t know. Working hard feels different in the city. It feels insurmountable, actually.”
“Explain that to me.”
I sighed. “Well, for example, my job.”
“You don’t like your job at Three Kings?”
“It’s not that. It’s just . . . it doesn’t feel like it matters? I’m doing this thing that occupies my time. I take home a paycheck. But it doesn’t feel like I’m actually doing anything. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“It’s the hamster on the wheel.” Savage pressed a kiss to my head. “Every day looks the same. You run and run, but no matter what you do you don’t feel like you’re getting anywhere.”
“Yes, exactly. On the farm you feed your chickens, then the next day you gather eggs. You plant a garden and then you harvest it and eat what you grew. You keep bees and they give you honey. It’s real .”
“You had bees?”
I nodded. “We had this garden that wasn’t for planting. It was full of wildflowers for butterflies and bees to feed from and pollinate. It was my favorite spot, actually.” I looked at him and gave him a wry smile. “Like I said, I’m not sure how I feel about city life just yet.”
We fell into companionable silence until he spoke again.
“You really don’t want a tattoo?” he asked, his gaze languid.
“I really don’t.”
“You’d look good with a tattoo here.” He traced the knobs of my spine.
“But I’d never be able to see it,” I remarked.
His grin was devilish. “But I would.”
“How would— oh. ”
Savage laughed and wrapped me in his arms, pulling me on top of him. “Think about it.”
“Oh, I am.”
He shifted his thigh so that it pressed between my legs. “I’m dying to be inside you again.”
“Next time, bring more condoms.”
“Tonight. I’ll bring a mega-box, and we’ll see how many we can get through.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Those girls were right. You are an animal in bed.” My teasing smile dimmed when he didn’t smile back. “Savage?”
“I’m sorry about them,” he said softly. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“It’s fine, Savage. I won in the end, didn’t I?” I touched his furrowed brow with my fingers. “I got you in my bed and I’m keeping you.”
“You’re keeping me?” he asked, a slow smile sliding across his lips.
“Yep. You’re mine.” I leaned down and gently bit his nipple.
He sucked in a breath. “I think I’m going to like being kept.”
“You got laid,” Virgil said as I set my purse on the counter of the tattoo parlor.
“Excuse me?” I squawked.
“Yeah, you totally got laid,” he said again. “Your eyes are bloodshot, your cheeks are flushed, and you’ve got whisker burn on your neck. I’m totally right. Right?”
“Even if I did get laid—which I’m not saying I did—do you really think I’d talk about my private life with you?”
“I’ve never been more convinced that I’m right,” he said.
“What are you right about?” Roman asked as he appeared from the back.
“Evie got laid.”
I groaned. “Shut up , Virgil.”
“Yeah, shut up, Virgil,” Roman reiterated. “Evie’s private life is private.”
“Thank you, Roman.” I beamed at him.
“So, it doesn’t matter if she looks happier than we’ve ever seen her or that we caught the goodbye kiss between her and Savage before she came inside and that we all know the truth. It’s not our concern.”
I glared at him.
He winked.
“Why are you guys spying on me?” I demanded.
“Spying? Who’s spying?” Virgil asked. “You were right there. Out in public. For everyone to see.”
“Oh,” I said slowly. “I get it now.”
“Get what?” Virgil asked.
“You’re not getting any, so you’ve got nothing to occupy you. Got it.”
“Hey, I’m getting plenty,” Virgil boasted.
“Sure, uh-huh.”
“You okay?” Roman asked, his eyes filled with concern. “I mean about last night at Spurs and that shit going down.”
“Nothing went down,” I protested.
“Yeah, because you stopped it.” Virgil shook his head. “I can’t believe you got Savage to walk away from a fight.”
“Thanks for talking him down.” Roman clenched his fist. “We would’ve gotten involved, but I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”
I frowned. “What if there had been a fight?”
“We would’ve backed up Savage,” Virgil said easily.
Roman stared at me. “I saw your face, Evie. You were scared. And that’s not okay. Not at all.”
“Yeah.” Virgil nodded and placed his hand on my shoulder. “We were ready to protect you. Sorry, Evie. You’re stuck with us.”
His words made tears fill my eyes.
“Oh, no. Don’t do it,” Virgil warned. “Don’t cry.”
“Can’t help it,” I mumbled, reaching for the tissues.
“All you do is make women cry,” Roman quipped.
“One of my many talents,” Virgil drawled. “One of my many talents.”