Chapter Twenty-Four
I’D BEEN AWAKE for a while. Hard to miss the way her body went still against mine, how her breathing shifted. Wren thought she was subtle, watching me like I wouldn’t notice. But I’d spent too many years waking to knives in the dark. A woman’s eyes on me? I felt it.
I kept still anyway. Let her think I was out cold. Because whatever she was working up to, she needed it to be hers. Not something I pushed on her, not something I demanded. Venom had taken enough of her choices. I wasn’t about to take this one.
Her back pressed closer, tentative at first, then like she was testing how far she could go. My arm tightened around her waist on instinct, my hand resting just under her ribs. Christ, she fit there too well. My chest ached with it.
Then she whispered my name. Soft, rough, like it burned coming out of her throat.
It damn near broke me.
I let my eyes crack open, caught her staring at me with that wide, desperate look. For a beat I didn’t move. I wanted to make sure this was real, not some nightmare bleeding through the cracks.
And then she leaned in. Slow. Careful. Like every inch was a mile she’d never thought she’d cross again. Her lips brushed mine, feather-light, and that was it. Every line I’d drawn for myself snapped.
Her kiss wasn’t polished. It wasn’t practiced. It was raw. Shaking. Brave as hell. And it felt like the first honest thing I’d been given in years.
I didn’t drag her closer. Didn’t let myself take. My hand stayed steady at her waist, holding her like she might bolt if I pushed too hard. I let her set the pace, her lips pressing in, testing, learning.
Fuck, she tasted like fear and fire and something sweeter buried underneath. My blood lit up with it, heat rolling through me so strong I had to lock every muscle tight not to devour her whole.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were huge, chest rising fast under the blanket. She looked terrified—of me, of herself, of what she’d just done.
I brought my thumb up slow, rough skin against the soft line of her cheek. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of me, Wren.” The words scraped out low, like gravel, but I meant every one. “You take what you need without fear.”
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t look away either. No flinch. No retreat. That alone carved deep in my chest.
I wanted more. Wanted it bad enough my jaw locked. But I wasn’t about to steal another inch from her. So I pulled back before I broke my own rule, before I gave in to the urge to kiss her again until the world burned down around us.
“I’m gonna grab a shower,” I murmured, my thumb rubbing her cheek, before my feet hit the floor, the bed creaking as I stood. “Meet me in the kitchen in twenty.”
Her fingers tightened in the blanket, knuckles white, but she gave a small nod. Enough to tell me she heard.
The door clicked shut behind me, loud in the quiet hall. The clubhouse noise hit harder out here, men laughing, a bike revving outside. Ordinary shit. But I wasn’t the same man I’d been when I walked into that room last night.
She’d kissed me.
Not out of fear. Not because she was told to, but because she wanted to, and I’d be damned if I let anyone take that away from her.
***
STEAM STILL CLUNG to my skin as I pushed open the door to my room, toweling at the back of my neck. My head was a storm, Wren’s kiss burned in my blood, my chest heavy with the weight of it. I needed space, air, a second to cage the fire she’d lit.
Instead, I got Roxy.
She was sprawled across my bed like she owned it, black lace covering her skin, hair spilling over my pillow. Perfume thick in the air, cloying and sweet, enough to choke. Her smile curved slow, deliberate, the kind meant to reel me in.
“Miss me, baby?” she purred, propping up on her elbows.
Every muscle in me locked. For half a second, rage blurred my vision—at her, at the timing, at the insult of her being here when the ghost of Wren’s mouth was still on mine.
“Get the fuck out.” My voice lethal, hard enough to cut.
Her smile faltered, then tilted sharper. “Come on, Ash. Don’t play. I know you. You can’t go long without a woman in your bed.”
Something cold slid under my skin and my hands went hard at my sides, and rage took over, After tasting Wren’s lips, the insult of finding this—this patch chasing bitch—waiting. I wanted to take her by the throat and drag her out on her knees.
“You don’t know shit about me, and I’m not telling you again. Fucking leave,” I snarled.
She slid off the bed, crossing slow, hips swaying like the whole damn act would change my mind.
But I wasn’t some fucking teenager who couldn’t control his cock.
When she stopped in front of me, her hand skimmed my chest, nails dragging.
“You don’t mean that. You can’t. We’re good together, you and me. ”
I caught her wrist, shoved it off. “We were nothing. A warm body, that’s it. I told you that before and I’ll say it again, Wren is under my patch now. You think I’d fuck around with you while I have her? Get the hell out before I make you.”
Her eyes flared, anger flashing hot. Then she said it. “I’m pregnant.”
The words landed hard, but not the way she meant. My jaw locked, heat spiking deep and ugly. “Bullshit.”
“It’s not,” she snapped, desperation leaking into her tone. “Two months. Last time I was here, and I wasn’t with anyone else.”
I laughed, rough and humorless. “Two months, huh? Convenient. You think I’m that fucking stupid? That I wouldn’t wrap it up? I don’t make mistakes like that, Roxy. And I didn’t care enough to know if you were only fucking me during that time.”
Her chin lifted, defiant. “It’s yours. You’ll see.”
I stepped forward until I was close enough to feel the scrape of lace under her ribs.
Close enough to make her back up. “If you’re pregnant, a test will tell us whose it is.
” My voice was a blade. “If it’s mine, fine.
We deal with it. If it’s not, you’ll regret trying to trap me.
Either way, we’re done. You understand me? ”
Her mouth opened, then shut. The fight flickered, replaced with something meaner. “You’ll regret treating me like this.”
“Never,” I muttered, yanking the door open. “Out. Now.”
She stalked past me, perfume trailing like poison in the air. Her heels clicked down the hall, until they faded into the noise of the clubhouse.
I stood there a long beat, the stink of her perfume burning my lungs, fury crawling under my skin.
Pregnant. Christ. Even if she was, I didn’t believe for a second it was mine. She’d try to use it, twist it, poison what little progress I’d carved out with Wren.
Not happening.
I shoved a hand through my hair, breathing hard. If this shit got back to Wren, if she even thought for a second I was tangled up with Roxy still, it would rip apart everything we’d started to build.
No. Not a chance.
This wasn’t Roxy’s game anymore, and I wasn’t about to be played.