Chapter 6
6
SAVAGE
T he more I learned about Tamara, the more I liked and respected her. And fuck, I wanted her.
I enjoyed seeing her at ease with me, so I was glad she hadn’t realized I was two seconds from bending her over the table and filling her deep enough that she wouldn’t remember a world before me.
My control was ready to break. Needing a distraction, I offered to give her a tour of the compound.
As we walked outside, I couldn’t stop staring at her. She looked like something out of my dreams with the way her blond curls caught the late morning light as we walked the path around the main compound. I didn’t give her a full tour. Just enough to help her get her bearings and satisfy her curiosity, while keeping her far the hell away from places she didn’t need to know about.
I pointed out the gun range, a building that Iron Shield’s private ops team sometimes used for training, and the back gate that led to the trails through the trees.
She didn’t ask about the rest of the land that curved into the tree line, where a small building sat tucked behind brush and a natural slope. A spot on our property that was the farthest from any of the businesses, homes, and clubhouse while still being within the compound’s security walls. A place we called “The Room,” a name as dismissive as its exterior.
From the outside, it looked like a utility shed or maybe an equipment storage unit. But the interior had four rooms—a lounging area of sorts, a cell, an interrogation hold, and a space that had a cache of weapons and tools. Ones that might be needed to aid us in gaining what we wanted. Like answers. Or just the sound of our enemy’s screams.
I didn’t bring it up. Didn’t plan to unless she ever needed to know what kind of things I’d do to keep her safe. And I’d do every single one of them without blinking.
We returned to the clubhouse, and I showed her the gym and a few other places she could freely go before heading to the garage where we worked on our bikes. She paused, watching one of the prospects shine up a custom rebuild like it was a damn Mona Lisa. Her head tilted slightly, and I caught a soft smile.
I loved that she liked this place. I wanted her rooted in it. Pregnant. Tethered. The kind of belonging that came with sex, bonds, and a future.
Since she’d never been to Iron Inkworks, which was only two blocks away from our front gate, I took her there as well. Watching her light up at the amazing work from our artists had me already planning the ink I was gonna talk her into one day. I’d have my name all over her sexy body if she let me.
Back at the compound, I ended the tour at the playground Fox had built after Dahlia had their twins. Tamara’s eyes lit up, and her plump lips stretched into a smile. She was fucking gorgeous. But she was everything when she murmured something about hoping her kids had a place like this to play someday.
We wandered into the kitchen to grab some lunch. While we ate, she asked me a few questions about the club and the town —from our perspective since she’d grown up on the outskirts. I answered them honestly, even if I wasn’t exactly verbose.
Afterward, she turned to me with those cornflower-blue eyes and said, “I’ve taken up enough of your time. You probably need to get some work done.”
“Nothin’ I’d rather be doing, baby.”
Tamara smiled, but shook her head as if she didn’t believe my statement. Then she shrugged. “I need to update my résumé anyway. And start applying for other jobs.”
I stared at her.
She blinked.
I kept staring.
She gave me a slow, sassy smile. “You get the need for a job, right? Since you have one? Manager of the bar and all that?”
I grunted and dragged a hand over my face. “Yeah, I have a job. But you don’t.”
She straightened, and her brow dipped. “I just said I need to get one.”
“No.” I shook my head, already turning to lead her toward my office. “You don’t.”
She followed without arguing, but I could feel her gaze drilling into my spine the whole walk there.
Once we were settled with me behind the desk and her across from me, I booted up the system and logged into the bar’s security logs. I had the feeds open in the corner of the screen, mostly to keep my eyes on things, but also because I needed something to do with my hands so I didn’t grab Tamara and remind her exactly whose shirt she slept in last night.
She was curled into the chair, laptop balanced on her thighs, one leg tucked under her, her bottom lip caught between her teeth while she clicked and typed. Every time she made a little noise of frustration, I fought the urge to stalk around the desk and kiss her into submission. Or bend her over the damn chair and remind her she didn’t need a job. Not when I had plans to put a ring on her finger and my baby in her belly.
“You always this quiet?” she asked after a while, eyes still on her laptop screen.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when she stretched her back, arching her chest so her perfect tits were all I could see. My control was slipping like sand through my fingers.
She glanced up, and one corner of her lips hiked up. “Let me guess. Brooding is part of the brand?”
My mouth twitched, and I decided to go for honesty. It was about time she started understanding what was happening between us. “Tryin’ to talk myself outta bending you over this desk right now. Figured silence was safer.”
Tamara’s eyes widened, her breath catching.
I didn’t take the words back. Just let them sink in.
She was saved from a response when there was a sharp knock on my door.
“Yeah?” I called.
It cracked open a second later, and Racer poked his head in. “Hey. Fox has been trying to get in touch with you.”
My gaze dropped to my phone, and I mentally groaned when I saw a missed call and two texts from our prez. Fuck. I’d been so distracted by Tamara that I hadn’t been paying attention to anything else.
“Sent me to drag your ass to his office.”
Tamara looked up with a curious tilt of her head.
Racer’s eyes flicked to her, then back to me. “Club business.”
I gave a sharp nod. “Tell him I’ll be there after I get Tamara settled back in ou—her room.”
Racer smirked. “Just don’t take too long. Told me to interrupt no matter what you were doin’. Not gonna risk Prez kicking my ass for not following orders or take a bullet from you because I saw something that turned you into a jealous bastard.”
My eyes narrowed, my tone low and laced with warning. “Talkin’ about it makes my trigger finger twitch.”
His mouth widened into a grin before he disappeared without another word.
I stood and turned toward Tamara. “Come on. Gotta get you back to the room.”
She didn’t argue, but I saw the hesitation in her eyes as we walked toward the door. Before we stepped out, she paused and looked up at me through her lashes. “I don’t really like the idea of being on my own,” she admitted quietly.
“You won’t be.” I guided her down the hallway, my hand skimming low on her back. “I’ll be staying in the room too. That way, we both know you’re safe and protected.”
She double blinked, her steps stuttering slightly. “Oh. Uh, there’s a couch, I guess?—”
I didn’t reply. Just grunted something noncommittal. She wasn’t gonna be on that couch. And neither was I.
We reached the room, and I stepped inside with her, grabbing her hand to keep her close when she started to walk away.
“If I’m gone past dinner,” I said, my voice lower, harder, “one of the old ladies will come get you. You eat with them. Stick close. Do not wander around alone. You’re not wearing a property patch yet, which means some dumb fuck might think you’re fair game.”
Her mouth parted, but no sound came out.
I stepped even closer, crowding her until her back hit the wall. “And if anyone touches you?” My voice dropped to a deadly rasp. “I’ll rip their arms off and shove them so far up their ass, they’ll be brushing their own teeth from the inside out.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted.
Tempting. So tempting. But the prez was waiting, and when I gave Tamara more than just a fast touch of our lips. I was gonna need more than a few minutes.
Instead, I leaned in and gave her a quick, firm, possessive kiss. Just enough to leave her stunned.
“Stay put,” I growled.
Then I was gone.
Whiskey, Stone, Hawk, Racer, and Midnight were already in Fox’s office when I got there, spread out around the conference table with coffee, attitude, and weapons-grade sarcasm.
Stone and Racer were mid-argument.
“If you jackasses would stop using the legal fund like a damn tab?—”
Racer cut in, mouth twisted in a grin. “You love the drama, Counselor. Admit it. Gives you a reason to use all those fancy words and threaten people in Latin or some shit.”
“Pretty sure Stone just threatened to sue me for existing last week,” Deviant added, strolling into the office through the door on the other wall connected to Maverick’s office. He lifted his chin at me in greeting, and every head turned my way.
“Look who finally showed up,” Hawk drawled. “Thought you might’ve gotten tangled in your girl’s curls and forgot how to walk.”
I ignored him and dropped into the seat between Whiskey and Stone.
“You look like you’ve been chewing glass,” Midnight muttered, cracking a beer.
“Maybe he finally got laid,” Racer said, kicking his boots up on the table. “Then again, with that scowl, maybe he didn’t finish.”
“Keep talkin’, and I’ll shove that bottle up your ass, glass-first,” I threatened in a low steady voice that made it very clear I wasn’t fucking around.
Stone didn’t look up from the notepad in front of him. “Don’t expect me to bail any of you shitheads out if you get arrested for murder.”
Whiskey snorted. “Not the police they’d have to worry about. You think any of the old ladies would put up with that shit?”
No one had the chance to answer because Fox walked in with Mav at his side, both of them carrying the kind of leadership presence that said it was time to shut up or eat a bullet. I sat back, arms crossed and jaw locked tight.
Fox sat behind his desk, while Mav slid into one of the available chairs in front of it. They started with some club business. Gave us the rundown—maintenance requests, an update on a new client, and a few external security concerns in the south part of town. Nothing heavy.
It was a good thing Fox had already excused me from that shit because I wasn’t really there. My thoughts kept circling back to the woman upstairs wearing my damn shirt. Imagining her alone. Scared. Vulnerable.
A prolonged silence finally caught my attention.
Mav leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I remember this stage. When I first brought Molly here, I hated to let her outta my sight until I knew she was locked down.”
Fox snorted and pointed at his VP. “You threatened to shoot anyone who got within ten feet. Even me.”
That earned a low chuckle from Whiskey and Stone.
Maverick crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them. “Like you two were any better.”
“Point taken,” Whiskey acknowledged. Then he shot me a crooked grin. “You’re not far off from the rest of us, Savage.”
I mentally sighed. Yeah, when all this was over, I was gonna take endless bullshit for all the crap I’d spouted about the guys being pussy-whipped. Before I met Tamara and realized I would have to eat my words.
Fox’s gaze was steady on me as he waited for the verbal sparring to end. “Tamara?” he asked.
“She’s squared away.”
“Good,” Fox said, lifting a brow. “Because this shit’s getting uglier by the hour.”
“Company’s called Arcane Testing Solutions,” Deviant announced as he opened his laptop. He punched a few keys, then flipped it around so we could see the information on the screen. “Like I said before, it’s a front. All fake. Paper trail loops back to a med-tech investor group. Real quiet. And real fucking dirty.”
Stone tapped his fingers against the table. “Preliminary look at the corporation’s structure is a legal rat’s nest. Shell companies stacked like a damn Russian doll. Laundering grant money through third-party labs, all marked as nonprofit research.”
“Assholes,” Whiskey muttered, his voice like crushed gravel.
“They’re running trials without consent,” Midnight added. “Low-income patients and minimal documentation, all buried under false paperwork. This isn’t just illegal. It’s reckless. And fucking inhumane.”
“We take it down,” I said flatly. “All of it.”
“One piece at a time,” Fox agreed, nodding.
“They have an off-site storage house,” Deviant added. “That’s where the equipment and old records are. We should start there. Could have something we can use to punch a hole through the corp’s armor.”
Midnight nodded and pushed some photos to the center of the table. They were all surveillance shots of a small warehouse. He glanced at me, and I jerked my chin up in a gesture of thanks. He’d obviously sent someone all the way out there to check it out as soon as Deviant had an address.
“Get in, get out, then level the motherfucking place,” I stated without inflection.
“Not yet,” Stone sighed. “We do it smart. Get what we need. But don’t tip ’em off.”
“Relax,” Hawk muttered. “Not like Savage is gonna do something impulsive. Never met anyone so in control.”
“You wanna see Savage lose control?” Fox smirked, cutting a look to Hawk. “Look at his girl wrong. Just once.”
Hawk snorted. “Not it.”
“Damn straight you’re not,” I growled.
After several more hours of strategizing, the meeting wrapped with a timeline and split responsibilities. Stone and Fox were coordinating with contacts to prep for a legal strike once we had the evidence. Deviant was pulling security footage for our entry point, and Midnight was working on getting us past their security measures. Hawk, Whiskey, and I would handle the recon and the actual raid, while Racer was in charge of transport since our bikes weren't exactly stealthy. Plus, we didn’t know what we’d need to take with us. If they were as paranoid as they seemed, we’d likely have to take boxes of actual paperwork to sift through, along with any digital files.
With the plan in place, the guys filtered out, but Fox called out for me to hang back.
I waited while he opened a side cabinet and pulled something out.
“Had a feeling.” He handed me a folded black leather vest. “Sent it home with Tank yesterday. Sheila brought it back this morning.”
Ever since the brothers had started dropping like flies—finding and claiming their women at warp speed—Fox had kept a stash of cuts at the clubhouse so we didn’t have to wait for an order to arrive. They already had the property patch, so Sheila just added the names.
I unfolded it slowly. PROPERTY OF SAVAGE was stitched into a black-on-black rocker, with Tamara embroidered on the front. Simple. Bold. Fucking permanent .
“Appreciate it.”
Fox’s mouth crooked up at one corner. “Wasn’t doing it for you. Did it for the trail of dead bodies you’d leave if she wasn’t walkin’ around wearing your brand.”
It was after eleven when I finally opened the door to her room. I kept quiet, ready to find Tamara curled up and asleep, planning to strip down and slide into bed beside her. I wasn’t expecting to find her standing at the window in nothing but my shirt, bathed in moonlight, staring out at the trees.
My body went hard. Fast. And every primal instinct I’d buried since the moment we met surfaced. This wasn’t just lust. It was the driving need to claim .
I stepped inside, locking the door behind me, my gaze never leaving her. The shirt was so big it practically swallowed her whole. But the light haloed her curls, traced the outline of her bare legs, the curve of her hips, and her perky ass.
I was seconds from losing it. From grabbing her, yanking that shirt off, and fucking her against the window so hard she wouldn’t walk straight for a week.
She turned at the sound of my boots, her gaze soft but curious, and I realized she didn’t even know what she was doing to me.
That made it worse.
Because it meant this wasn’t a game. She wasn’t trying to tempt me.
She just was. Mine .
And at that moment, with the scent of her skin in the air and the memory of her lips still lingering, I stopped pretending I had any self-control left at all.