Chapter Twelve
I slept horribly that night, unable to get comfortable. I couldn’t turn off my brain. If I wasn’t trying, hopelessly, to recall what happened with Josh, I was replaying my incredibly short exchange with Maverick.
I wanted to speak with him terribly.
And if I was honest with myself, it wasn’t just because he knew things I didn’t.
Neither was it simply a matter of my saying thank you .
Except, what I thought I might want from Maverick was something I still feared.
My conversation with Tess had altered my perspective about men like him—wild and dangerous men who followed their own law. But just because I felt like I understood him a little better didn’t make the whole MC world easier to swallow.
Maverick was a Wild Stallion, and if I wanted him, I’d have to accept that.
As a thirty-three-year-old woman, I was well acquainted with my brain and how it worked. I’d spent years talking myself out of almost every romantic relationship I’d ever had. This one was the easiest un-happy ending I could write for myself. There was no end to the possibilities of how a relationship with a rebel like Maverick could break my heart—and yet, I didn’t want to live in fear of how we might fall apart. I wanted to know what it was like to belong to him completely.
I’d had so much of him even whilst keeping him at arm’s length. My gut told me, if I let him in, if I let it play out, maybe everything would be alright. Not necessarily like a fairytale—as I didn’t think Wild Stallions existed in stories of that nature—but like how it was supposed to be with us. In my world. In his. Maybe in the world we created together. Whatever that looked like.
Except, his affiliation with the motorcycle club wasn’t the only thing that gave me pause.
I knew I’d made a mess of things our first go around. His rapid departure after I’d finally come out of my drug-induced sleep said quite a bit. I wasn’t sure if he wanted anything to do with me, and I wasn’t sure I could blame him.
I was so quick to judge him not just once but twice before I gave him a chance to really show me who he was. All the while, I’d used him for my own selfish pleasure. If he was done with me, I’d earned that.
But he’d rescued me in epic fashion, and that filled me with a measure of hope.
When my alarm clock sounded early the next morning, I was tired but grateful to have something to do and somewhere to be that day. I needed to get out of my house. Work would be a welcome distraction.
At the beginning of my shift, I was relieved Lindsey wasn’t one of the nurses on staff with me. I knew she’d ask about my date with Josh, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone besides Tess. Other than Rhonda and Conrad, who both asked if I was feeling better after calling in sick, no one treated me any differently. Their ignorance was my bliss, and I embraced it as I got on with my work.
It was just after noon when a few of us at the nurses’ station heard the screeching tires in the ambulance bay. A colleague and I were the first to frown at each other before we went to investigate. We arrived at the automatic doors just in time to see a man get shoved unceremoniously out of the bed of a truck. Then the guy who pushed him closed the tailgate as the truck sped away.
It all happened quickly, but not so fast that I didn’t recognize the kutte on the biker as the truck disappeared from view. I looked from the biker to the man groaning in pain on the pavement, my colleague and I rushing over to help.
Even battered, bloodied, and bruised I recognized him instantly and froze.
“A little help over here!” cried the nurse kneeling down at Josh’s side.
A flurry of activity soon followed, and he was rolled onto a stretcher and lifted onto a bed.
“Jenna!”
I looked at Heather, wondering where the doctor had come from and unsure if she’d called my name once or a dozen times, but still too preoccupied to respond.
Shifting my focus back toward Josh, I locked eyes with him just as they were beginning to wheel him inside. When recognition hit, he shrank into himself and started crying as he whined, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
My heart was racing as I watched him go, my stomach feeling hollow as it dawned on me why he was apologizing. Not because he’d grown a conscious, but because he’d had one beaten into him.
“Jenna, are you okay?” Heather asked, earning my attention once more.
“I got it. Go,” piped in Rhonda. Then she was in front of me, frowning in confusion as Dr. Patterson went to address Josh’s seemingly extensive injuries. “What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I was still having a hard time finding my words.
Josh had arrived in the back of a truck.
A biker—a Stallion I vaguely recognized had pushed him out of it.
The man who drugged me in an attempt to date-rape me had been hand delivered to my workplace.
How did Maverick even know who he was?
How had he found him?
“Nurse Hayes,” Rhonda called, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“I…I know him,” I managed to say.
“Is he a friend of yours? He looks pretty badly beaten.”
I shook my head. “No. Not a friend. Could I—I need a minute. I’m sorry, I need to make a phone call. I’ll be five minutes.”
She studied me, concern tugging at her brow before she agreed. “Okay. You’re sure you’re alright? You’re not usually easily rattled, and you look quite shaken.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Five minutes.”
We headed inside together. I returned to the nurses’ station to grab my phone then walked back outside. As I went, my mind raced, piecing together the significance of what just happened.
Maverick had sent a message—a very personal one.
He hadn’t just told me without telling me that he would take care of anyone who tried to hurt me. He’d also told me without telling me that he wasn’t a mindless murderer.
Tess said men like him were only dangerous when provoked.
Maverick had been provoked.
It wasn’t senseless. It wasn’t payback. It was vigilante justice.
What happened to me was enough to unleash his darkness.
Only, rather than beat Josh up and abandon him somewhere, Maverick had brought him to the hospital. Something I would have done. Something I did do. Something I’d insisted on doing, in spite of his annoyance, the night we’d met.
That’s how I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Josh had been a gift for me .
I couldn’t make it make sense, but it was both violent and sweet at the same time.
Maverick was complicated, and what I felt for him was messy—but whatever doubts I felt before, I was over them now.
He’d been my last half dozen calls.
When I called him again, he still didn’t answer.
I didn’t quite understand his mixed signals.
He’d rescued me but wouldn’t speak to me the morning after.
He’d delivered Josh for treatment after he’d doled out punishment, but he refused to answer when I called.
I wasn’t sure how to reconcile the discrepancies, but my heart knew one thing for sure.
A man who would show up for me when I needed him most was the kind of man I wanted—checked boxes be damned.
If he was going to make me work for his forgiveness, I’d do it.
Seeing as he wasn’t answering or returning any of my calls, I decided I was going to have to up my game.
After work, I was going to go find him.
I tried his cell one last time. When he didn’t answer, I didn’t even bother heading home to change out of my scrubs. I drove straight for the compound.
It was after eight, so I knew he wouldn’t be at the garage or the auto parts store. If he was around at all, that left Steel Mustang and the Wild Stallions clubhouse. Seeing as I was already acquainted with Steel Mustang, familiar territory seemed like the perfect place to start my hunt.
Eight o’clock on a Friday night meant the lot was far from empty. Chances were high there would be very few parking spaces available in another two hours, but I managed to find one. As I made my way toward the entrance, I tried not to think about how out of place I would look inside the biker bar.
I wasn’t there for a drink.
I was on a mission.
Inside, there was a band on stage in the middle of their set, and the hum of the patrons trying to converse over the music was a bit distracting, but I didn’t lose my focus. Pressing up on tiptoe, I looked around, searching for his tall frame, his long curly hair, or his trucker baseball cap. I didn’t spot him right away, but as I inched further into the large room, I saw Mustang behind the bar. Happy to see a familiar face, I walked right up to an open spot and bellied up to the counter.
Mustang did a double take when he noticed me. As a slow, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, I knew Tess had shared the details of my walk on the wild side.
I was not surprised; therefore, I was not bothered and not the least bit shy when I told him, “I’m looking for Mav. Do you know if he’s around?”
He scanned the length of the bar, and before I could tell him I’d already looked there, he called, “Yo, Buck.”
I followed the direction of his gaze and saw a guy in his early twenties perk up a bit in response. Unlike the other kuttes I’d seen, his didn’t have nearly as many patches sew onto it.
“Take Maverick’s lady to the clubhouse,” Mustang commanded.
There was a minor flutter in my stomach in response to him calling me Maverick’s lady . Even though it felt right—even though my heart wanted it to be true—I wasn’t convinced it was. But a part of me dared to hope it could be.
It helped that I seemed to have Mustang’s vote of approval.
Then again, he was shacked up with my best friend.
It was probably in his best interests to be my advocate.
Siding with his biker brothers was one thing.
Siding with his woman yielded far greater rewards.
Buck looked in my direction, jerked his chin in acknowledgement, then stood from his barstool and closed the distance between us. He didn’t say a word as he began to lead the way toward the exit, and I waved at Mustang before following after him.
I was fidgety as we walked from the bar to the clubhouse.
I still didn’t know what to expect when I came face-to-face with Maverick, but it seemed that was about to happen. Even though that’s precisely why I came, I was nervous.
My nerves were another reminder of how poorly I’d treated him in the past and how much I wanted him now.
As we approached the clubhouse doors, I could hear there was a different sort of party happening inside. Buck tugged on the barrier separating me from who I sought, and I took a deep breath as I stepped over the threshold.
My heart raced, and my deep breath did nothing to calm my nerves.
I’d officially entered a different dimension.
The room was huge. Bigger than the biker bar. It felt sort of like a small warehouse.
The walls were brick, and the floor was concrete. There were leather chairs and couches grouped about and situated on a variety of large area rugs. A couple of pool tables were on the opposite side of the room, and there was a bar to my right.
While Steel Mustang had music and biker wall décor, the clubhouse was strictly club themed. There were framed images of horses and motorcycles; there were rustic, metal signs with meanings I was sure were biker related, and cowboy paraphernalia, too. An incredibly old motorcycle was on display in the corner to my left, and a rope lasso was hung on one of the handlebars.
The room was very tough guy but kind of tasteful and astoundingly cool.
Then I looked at the people and immediately got a feel for why they considered themselves wild .
There were a few men playing pool or throwing darts. Normal enough.
A few others were sitting around, throwing back beers, a couple with a woman in their laps.
But then there were men who were openly enjoying the attention of said women.
Stated plainly, pants had been unzipped, mouths were at work, and there seemed to be a very vocal lady rider in the room. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her over the music that filled the space, and that was enough.
I hadn’t been invited to the clubhouse, but if I was, I would have been severely overdressed.
Not every woman in the room was topless, but those who weren’t were pretty close. A couple of the bare-chested women—whose G-strings and stiletto heels seemed a little pointless— were putting on a show, practically making out with each other in the middle of the room.
The whole thing was a bit disgusting, but I was a woman with a healthy possession of self-worth not a man with a fully functioning dick and a penchant for lust.
Part of me wanted to turn on my heel and walk out.
I didn’t allow myself to do that.
Instead, I took it in for what it was—a part of Maverick’s world.
As I began to accept this, it hit me that he could have his pick from a buffet of topless women in the clubhouse, but for a week, he’d chosen me instead. Moreover, if this was where he was Wednesday night when I called him, he’d left one hell of a party after a fourteen second conversation with me, even though I’d treated him awfully.
I didn’t know if he’d still choose me, but I’d chosen him.
With that in mind, I honed in my search and found him seated at the bar. His back was to the counter, his elbows propped up behind him, a bottle of beer held lazily with three ring adorned fingers. His curly locks were down, and he was wearing his baseball cap backwards. His long legs were covered in holey, black jeans, and he wore a faded AC/DC tee underneath his kutte.
He wasn’t my type, but I ached for him anyway.
Following the direction of his gaze, I saw he was watching the two women kissing and fondling each other. I didn’t let this deter me from my original mission.
I’d almost reached him when he looked over and spotted me. His brown eyes were impassive when they found mine. He stared at me even as he brought his beer to his lips and took a long pull. It wasn’t until I was right next to him that he shifted his focus back onto the topless women.
His indifference felt like a punch to the gut, but I reminded myself how I’d earned that.
I was there to fight for my second chance, and I wasn’t giving up that easily.
“You’re not taking my calls,” I stated in greeting.
“Nope,” he muttered in return.
He wasn’t totally ignoring me.
That was a good sign.
“Well, I want to talk to you,” I pressed.
“Don’t want to hear it,” he countered.
“You don’t even know what I have to say,” I insisted.
This got me his eyes. They gave away nothing as he replied, “Know I don’t want to hear you bitch about the delivery I made this afternoon. You dragged me into your mess, so you all but fuckin’ asked for it. If you don’t like it—”
I decided then was the right time to take a page out of his book.
I grabbed hold of either side of his face and pulled him toward me as I reached for a kiss.
For a second, he didn’t respond, and my heart broke a little at the thought of his blatant rejection. But then I traced the seam of his mouth with my tongue, desperate for a taste, and suddenly I was folded in his arms, my body fitted in the space between his legs.
Maverick opened his lips and devoured me.
I whimpered, surrendering to his control completely, my stomach tingling as if the butterflies that fluttered inside were coated in fairy dust.
As I moved to circle my arms around his shoulders, his grip around me tightened, and I almost forgot where we were, too focused on the way his tongue danced with mine. He tasted incredible—a little like beer, but mostly like Maverick —and he smelled even better.
Coconut. Birchwood. Leather.
I’d missed his scent.
A moan crept up my throat and spilled into his mouth as my ache for him spread from my heart to my core, and my sex clenched at the thought of having all of him.
Then I felt as he grew hard in his jeans.
Realizing that it was me who turned him on—not the naked women making out with each other—my ache turned to full-on need.
“Maverick,” I murmured between kisses, grabbing a handful of his curls.
It was all I had to say.
The next thing I knew, I’d lost his lips as he turned in order to set his beer on the bar. Then he was on his feet, hoisting me off of mine. With one of his arms wrapped around my back, he coaxed one of my legs around his hip—but I didn’t need coaxing. I had all my limbs clinging to him as he carried me I didn’t know where.
Without a word, he took me down an empty hallway, then through a door that opened into complete darkness. He switched on the light as he shut the door behind us, and I looked around to find we were in a private room I assumed belonged to him. There was a bed, a nightstand, and a large, heavy looking trunk that served as the furniture I saw. Along with the overhead light, there was a lamp on his nightstand.
Aside from a few dirty clothes scattered around on the floor, a couple discarded beer bottles, and an empty handle of tequila, it wasn’t too messy.
When I noticed Maverick wasn’t carrying me to the bed, I stopped taking in the room and looked down at him.
He was staring at me.
“We do this, it’s all or nothin’, foxy. You want my dick, you’ll take the rest of me, too.”
My chest grew tight as my heart swelled, happy beyond words we’d managed to find our way to that exact moment. I wanted all of him, so he wouldn’t get any argument from me.
“I know, honey,” I whispered.
This time, it was him who pulled me in for a kiss, his hand wrapped around my nape. With our lips sealed, I felt as he reached up to tug my hair tie loose. I smiled against his mouth as my hair fell. I’d missed the way he showed me without telling me how much he loved my mane.
He carried me to his unmade bed, laying me across it when we got there. I unlocked my limbs from around him as he straightened, took my purse, and dropped it on the floor. Then he shrugged his way out of his kutte, folding the precious adornment over his trunk.
I didn’t know it until I saw it, but I missed that, too—his mannerisms, and all the ways I was already familiar with him.
Turning to face me, he muttered, “Shoes babe. Lose ‘em.”
As I sat up and removed my sneakers and socks, he made quick work of his boots. His feet bare, he headed for his nightstand, extracted a condom, and tossed it on the bed next to me.
Then I was on my back again, Maverick stretched down the length of me, his mouth pressed against mine. I slid his hat off, dropping it I wasn’t sure where, as I buried my fingers in his hair, kissing him hungrily, afraid I’d never get enough.
I whimpered at the thought that I’d almost lost him—the best I’d ever had.
Now that I had him back, my entire body felt as though it was buzzing with desire.
I rolled, throwing my weight into it, and he surrendered until it was him on his back, his legs bent over the edge of the bed. I broke our kiss only to tug at the hem of his tee. He helped me get rid of it before he immediately reached to rid me of mine. I was wearing a sports bra underneath, and I could tell the practical item did not suit his tastes.
I laughed softly as he demanded, “Take that thing off.”
With practiced hands, I was topless in no time.
Then we were kissing again.
My goodness was he delicious.
As he took my mouth in that tender yet insistent way that was classic Maverick, I slid my hand down his abs and snuck my fingertips into his jeans and beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs until I found his huge, hardened length.
I moaned as I wrapped my hand around him, my clit swelling with my arousal.
My breath caught when I felt his fingers seeking entrance into my jogger bottoms and panties. As he grazed my clit, headed for my entrance, I shuddered, my hand tightening around him. He bucked his hips on a grunt then shoved two fingers inside of me.
“Maverick,” I breathed, forcing myself to be patient rather than unhinged after a single touch.
I stroked while we kissed as he curled his fingers inside of me, beckoning an orgasm.
It wasn’t long before I couldn’t focus on so many things at once. I abandoned our kiss, propping my forehead against his as I rolled my hips and swept my thumb over his tip, smearing his precum. He repositioned his hand, flattening his palm against my clit, and I started to unravel.
“Maverick—I’m— yes —I’m—”
I lost my words, but he didn’t need me to say it.
My body did all the talking as my center clenched, soaking his fingers in the process.
Before I could recover, he had me flipped on my back again. I lost my grip around his cock as he extracted his hand from my pants, but I was only momentarily disappointed. In the next second, he was freeing me from the remainder of my clothes. As my scrubs and my panties hit the floor, he dropped trou, reaching for the condom as he kicked his ankles free.
I watched him sheath his length, pushing myself closer to the middle of the bed as I did so. I then spread my knees in uninhibited invitation.
When he propped himself above me and rammed his dick inside of me, I gasped, my back arching off the bed as I reached to take hold of his ink-covered biceps.
“Oh, I missed you,” I cried.
The words came out of their own volition, but it was true, so I didn’t take it back.
Maverick grunted in response, lowering himself onto his forearms as he began to take me—hard and steady.
It felt so good.
He fit just right.
I spread my legs open wider.
There was no denying it.
I was his to own.
I wanted him to have me.
All of me.
“ Maverick ,” I mewled.
He filled me with another hard thrust, then paused.
Lowering his lips until they touched mine, his dark, brown eyes still open and staring into my hazel-green ones, he murmured, “Name’s Kade, babe.”
Goosebumps spread down both my arms, and my chest grew tight as my heart got fuller.
I hooked my legs around him, holding onto his shoulders, needing to hang on so as not to fall apart as I breathed, “Kade.”
Then he swept his tongue through my mouth and groaned as he started to move his hips again, creating the perfect friction.
I enjoyed this for a while, until the warmth of my burgeoning passion began to grow a second time, and I started to lose it.
“Don’t stop,” I panted. “Just like that.”
He didn’t stop, his adamant thrusts filling me full over and over.
“Kade, honey , don’t stop!”
“Not fuckin’ stoppin’, babe.”
I held him tighter, longing to stay on the edge a little while longer, the anticipation almost as pleasurable as the release itself.
Then I couldn’t hold on a second more.
As my pleasure blossomed, my body trembled, my sex clamping unrelentingly around his.
“Fuck, yes,” he grunted as he surrendered to his own climax.
He jerked once, then twice, my core still constricting with my aftershocks as he buried himself deep and stilled.
For a moment, neither of us spoke as we worked to catch our breath.
“You work tomorrow?” he asked, his forehead propped against mine.
“No.”
“We’re doin’ that again. Couple of times.”
I smiled and said, “Okay.”
Then his lips were pressed against mine, and he kissed my smile clean away.
He didn’t linger too long before he lifted his head and looked down at me. He didn’t say anything, and I was about to ask him what he was thinking when he slid out of me, and a whisper of a mewl slipped through my lips.
He smirked.
I smiled.
He’d missed me, too.
Maverick then got to his feet and instructed, “Get dressed.”
“Why?” I asked, propping myself on my elbows.
As if right on cue, my stomach growled.
I wasn’t sure what time it was or how long it had been since my last meal, too preoccupied with other far more important matters. But now that my mission was complete, my hunger was a sure sign I’d neglected dinner.
His underwear in his hand, he quirked an eyebrow at me and said, “Gonna feed my lady, then I’m takin’ her home. My woman doesn’t sleep at the clubhouse.”
I glanced toward the closed door, remembering what was on the other side. It wasn’t my scene by any means, but it was Maverick’s—it was Kade’s —and I’d already made up my mind to accept all of him.
I sat up as he pulled on his jeans and insisted, “Kade, if this place is part of you, I’m going to have to get used to it.”
“Sure enough. But I know what I got in you, foxy, and I’m not throwin’ you in the deep end. Besides, used to it or not, my woman doesn’t sleep at the clubhouse unless we’re both too shit-faced to see straight, and we’re not partyin’ tonight. We’re havin’ make-up sex. Lots of it. Get dressed, babe. I’ll be back.”
Rather than search the floor for my clothes, I watched him slip into the hallway and then close the door behind him as I replayed his words in my head.
'I know what I got in you, foxy…'
I believed him.
More than that, I believed he’d seen something in me he liked from the start. Even after I’d shown him the ugliest parts of myself, he still saw more—enough to want me anyway.
It was my turn to let him know I wasn’t going anywhere. He’d shown me the darkness in him, but I still saw more, too. I still wanted him, too, and I didn’t want him to doubt it.
I’d pulled on my panties and was working my way back into my sports bra when Maverick— Kade —returned. After we were both fully dressed, he stuffed a few extra condoms in his pocket, I grabbed my purse, he took my hand, and we made our way through the clubhouse and out the front entrance. The cool breeze on that summer night was refreshing after my second trip through the main room of the Stallion lair .
But as we approached his Harley, the breeze did nothing to ease my stomach twisted in nerves.
“Honey, I’ve got my car,” I reminded him hopefully.
“It’ll be fine. We’ll come back for it,” he said, taking my purse.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, sure this was one of the ways I could show him I wasn’t going anywhere—by not arguing about it.
I didn’t have my jean jacket to cover my arms, but at least I wasn’t wearing sandals.
“Helmet?”
He handed it to me, I was quick to snap it in place, and then we were both on his hog.
He started the engine, I held on tight, and he took off into the night.
Like the first time we rode, rather than focus on where we were going, I kept my eyes on him. I knew better than I did before the lengths he would go to keep me safe, and it made me a little less afraid.
Still, when we pulled into the Old Chicago parking lot less than ten minutes later, I was happy it had been a short ride.
Once back on my feet, I removed the helmet and ran my fingers through my hair a few times. One of the perks of having such straight, silky hair was that it was fairly easy to fix after, say, sex or a ride on the back of a motorcycle.
Nevertheless, I hadn’t seen a mirror in hours, and he’d taken my hair tie, so I didn’t hesitate to ask, “Kade, is my hair okay?”
He turned toward me, having just extracted my purse from his saddlebag. Even in the scarce lighting of the parking lot, I could see the way his eyes flared as he looked at me.
I got my answer in the form of a ridiculously hot kiss.
Though, partway in, as I reached for the opening of his kutte, needing something to hold onto so as not to lose my balance, I couldn’t say if he was telling me my hair looked fine, or if he liked that I’d called him by his name, or if maybe he simply liked how I sought his opinion.
Regardless of the reason, when he finally broke the kiss, I was no longer worried about my hair.
He stowed the helmet, took my hand once more, and led me inside.
Even though it was busier than the dining room, Kade led us straight to the bar. We sat in two vacant seats in the far corner, and he raised a finger to signal our need for service.
“You good with pizza?” he asked me.
“Pizza sounds great,” I said as the bartender headed our way.
Kade requested a beer, I decided to do the same. When our drinks were sorted, he put in an order for our deep-dish pizza.
That’s when it hit me.
This was our second date.
We’d known each other for a month and a half. In spite of the casual nature of our week together, we’d been so hot and heavy, it was impossible to categorize it as insignificant. Now, it felt strange to think we were still at the beginning of us. Already, it felt like we were so much more than new. But I liked that we were finally on a second date. We needed a fresh start.
When the bartender left to get our drinks, Maverick— Kade— looked at me. He didn’t say anything, he just stared, communicating I wasn’t sure what.
I stared back at him, recalling the chain of events that brought us to where we were.
Reaching for his hand, I laced my fingers between his and murmured, “I never got a chance to say thank you. Thank you for rescuing me the other night and for taking care of me.”
He gave my fingers a squeeze then shifted his body until his was facing mine. He brought our hands down into his lap and said, “Babe, I’m gonna lay it out. I’m into you. Have been for a while now. Not much I wouldn’t do to keep you on my arm. But I’m no knight in shining armor. If you decided you were into me because you put on some rose-colored glasses, I’m gonna need you to take those fuckers off.”
I leaned toward him a little, speaking just loud enough for him to hear as I replied, “Honey? You delivered a bloody, broken mess of a man to my workplace today. A normal guy would send flowers. I’m not wearing rose-colored glasses, Kade.”
“Then what made you come around?”
I straightened and opened my mouth to speak just as our server returned with our beers. I thanked him, but Kade didn’t take his eyes away from me.
Upon noticing this, I cleared my throat and tried again.
“When I was in college, I fell in love with this guy. I thought he was perfect. At the time, he was everything I wanted—up until the moment he broke my heart, when he decided life without me was worth a shot.
“Since him, I’ve been searching for Mr. Right. And Mr. Right fits in this pretty little box—a box you do not fit in. A box you would never fit in. But I was talking to these guys on the internet and going on dates, and rather than compare them to the ideal I had in my head, I kept thinking of you.
“When I’m with you, it’s effortless. Our chemistry, our conversation, the sex, even our arguments. I can’t explain why, and neither can I run from it. I tried, and it turned out horribly.”
I hesitated, squeezing his fingers again.
He’d laid it all out for me, so I needed to do the same.
“I won’t lie to you, Kade. Your world scares me; but when I’m with you, I don’t feel afraid. I can’t remember it, but when I was in trouble, you were my first and only call. And even though I accused you of awful things and kicked you out of my house, you came for me.”
Leaning toward me, a warning in his eyes, he replied, “Don’t get it twisted, babe. I’m a Stallion, not a saint. Capable of things you couldn’t even imagine.”
“I believe that,” I murmured with a slow nod. “But I also believe you’re not a monster, and any terrible deed you might be capable of isn’t something you’d do unprovoked. I don’t understand the rules of an outlaw, but I trust an outlaw is not without honor. At least as far as the Stallions are concerned.”
“You got that part right.”
“And the rest of it?”
He was still looking at me with an open challenge in his dark gaze as he spoke. “It’s like I told you. Stallions mind our business and protect our own. Those men at the clubhouse aren’t just my brothers on the road. They’re a part of me. They’re my family. Besides Gran, they’re the only people in my life who haven’t abandoned me. We take care of each other, and that loyalty is thicker than blood. So long as no one fucks with us, we won’t fuck with them. It’s that simple.”
“Stallion law?”
“Fuckin’ right,” he grumbled.
“Right. Okay. Are you done trying to test my resolve?”
“Watch that sass, foxy.”
I smiled, leaning close enough to touch my forehead to his. Aware my actions were the reason behind his cautious acceptance of us, I sobered a little and murmured, “I’m sorry, honey. For judging you. For pushing you away.”
“You’ll make it up to me,” he replied with a smirk.
I kissed the corner of his mouth in non-verbal acceptance, and we finally pulled away from each other long enough to enjoy our cold beer.
An hour later, after we’d had our fill of pizza, Kade settled the bill, and we were soon back on his hog.
He took me straight home, and I went about making it up to him. Twice.
Lucky for me, he was a generous lover, and I got four orgasms out of the deal.
Four .
Yeah.
I’d definitely missed him.