Chapter 8
8
SAVAGE
T he sun barely crested the trees, but I was already wide awake. Flat on my back, one arm tucked behind my head, the other wrapped around the softest damn thing I’d ever held.
Tamara. Naked, warm, and curled into me as though she’d always belonged there.
Because she had. It seemed like my body had been created with just the right spot to fit her against me like the final piece of a puzzle.
One of her thighs was slung over mine, her bare chest pressed against my ribs, her breath soft where it hit my skin. My hand rested on the curve of her hip, and fingers were splayed possessively. My cut hung on the chair across the room, but she was the only brand that mattered.
I was as much hers as she was mine.
My eyes roamed, slow and greedy, soaking in every inch of her I could see in the glow of early light cutting through the window shades. Her silky curls were a riot across my chest, and her skin bore faint traces of where I’d held her and where my mouth had marked her last night.
A raw, vicious heat surged through me again, causing my dick to swell at the memories.
I hadn’t made love to her.
I’d taken her.
Not rough, but not gentle either.
And now that I’d had her, I was ruined. She was what mattered most, and I needed her just to survive. Without her, this life would mean nothing.
Her lashes fluttered as she shifted, just enough to drag her bare center against my hard length. I groaned, the sound low and muffled when I buried my face in her hair.
“Morning,” she whispered, her voice still hazy with sleep.
“Hey, baby.” My voice came out rougher than I meant it to.
She tipped her head back, cheeks pink already. “So, uh…is it normal to feel, um, sore and sort of…um…stretched?”
I chuckled, and she slapped my chest with a mock glare. “It’s not funny!”
“I think you complaining about the size of my dick is the best compliment I’ve ever gotten,” I drawled.
Her face turned redder. “I didn’t say that!”
“You implied it, baby.” I leaned in and kissed her temple, slow and tender, just because I could. Because I wanted to.
Her mouth softened into a shy smile, and something tight in my chest cracked. I wasn’t sure when the hell I’d gotten so mushy, but when it came to Tamara, I didn’t care. The guys could give me all the shit they wanted. When it came to my girl, I had no problem being whatever she needed. Even if it made me look like a whipped pussy.
Around people outside the club, there was a protocol. We treated our old ladies with respect but made sure to show that they knew their place. It contributed to our reputation of being ruthless and lethal as fuck. Otherwise, we’d be constantly challenged for our territory.
But within the family, Tamara could ask for anything, and if it was within my power, I’d give it to her.
I kissed her trembling lips, and things started heating up again. She shifted, and the friction between us woke up every need I’d shoved down while we slept. But when her hands started roaming toward my shaft, I came to my senses and pulled back with a curse.
She looked up, surprised and nibbling on her lip with worry. “Did I do something wrong?”
Seeing her hesitation killed me. “Absolutely not. Any other time, you can touch me as much as you want. But today?” I shook my head and cupped her tender pussy. “Gonna hurt worse if I don’t give you time to heal. And I have plans for this hot little body.”
“Oh,” she breathed, clearly torn between disappointment and relief.
I kissed her forehead, nose, then lips. “Definitely not gettin’ out of more, baby. I’m just makin’ sure the next round won’t leave you limping for a damn week. Need you in prime condition for what I have planned.” I grinned and winked at her. “Gotta make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
That earned me a huff and a swat to the chest. “Caveman.”
“Bet your sweet ass,” I muttered, rolling out of bed.
I ran her a bath—hot and full of whatever fancy crap Dahlia had left in the room—and warned her not to so much as touch the doorknob until I got back. She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
I hauled ass to my room, packed a bag, and brought it straight back. This was our room now. At least until we found, or built, our own house.
In the meantime, she wasn’t leaving it without me by her side. Not unless I’d vetted the people she was around and trusted them not to breathe wrong in her direction.
Then I headed to the kitchen, grabbed two breakfast sandwiches, coffee, and fruit, and brought it back up.
She was in another one of my shirts, and my lips curved into a satisfied grin when I realized she’d deliberately dug through my duffel for something of mine to wear. It hung halfway down her thighs and made her look even more edible. She was perched at the little table in the living room area when I walked in.
“You gonna feed me or eat me for breakfast?” she teased.
I grunted, scowling because now that was all I could think about. But a slight rumble from her stomach brought me back to the present.
I placed the sandwiches on the table, then slid a coffee toward her. “Eat first. Then we talk.”
“Talk about what?” she asked as she unwrapped the sandwich from the paper towel to take a bite.
I took the seat across from her, giving her a hard look. “Tonight’s raid.”
Her spine straightened, and her hands froze halfway to her mouth. “You’re going after them?”
“A storage site,” I clarified. “Just the first step.”
“Who all is going?”
“Hawk, Whiskey, Midnight, and me. Deviant’s running comms, and Racer will drive.”
“I should come.” She stated it matter-of-factly, then took a calm bite of her breakfast, as if she hadn’t just suggested I let her walk into the lion’s den.
My head snapped up, and my voice was cold as ice. “No. Hell fucking no.”
Tamara frowned as she chewed and swallowed. “But I’ll know what we’re looking for?—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I interrupted, my voice sharp as I slashed a hand through the air. “Not takin’ you into a situation that could go sideways.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Protective,” I corrected.
“You mean caveman,” she volleyed back.
I leaned forward, eyes locked on hers, completely unapologetic. “I’ll stop being a caveman when I can breathe again without worrying about someone hurting you.”
That shut her up.
As she sat there staring at me, her expression softened. Then the moment passed, and she sighed. “You’re still gonna be a caveman when I’m safe. Aren’t you?”
I smirked. “Probably. You’ll get used to it.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her mouth gave her away.
Later that night, the ride out was quiet. Just engines, wind, and adrenaline humming under our skin. Two hours of tension. Of planning. Imagining every way this could go wrong.
The air was cold and sharp, slicing across our faces as we carved down backroads and dark stretches of rural highway. No one spoke. No one needed to. We were locked in, mentally running through the angles, ready to go feral if it came to that. The only sounds were the rumble of our Harleys and the occasional crunch of gravel under our tires when we peeled off the pavement for a breather.
Despite my focus on the situation ahead, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tamara. Every second I was away from her was a test of restraint I didn’t have. I couldn’t stop thinking about her soft skin under my hands, the sweet taste of her mouth, or the way her body gripped mine like she’d been made just for me.
I needed to get back to her. To touch her. Taste her. Bury myself so deep she never forgot who she belonged to. My chest ached with it…like the ghost of her body was still wrapped around mine.