7. Bones
CHAPTER SEVEN
BONES
I watch her disappear up the stairs and force myself to stay put, hands braced on the file cabinet, fighting the urge to take her right here and now. My cock’s been in a permanent state of need since the second I laid eyes on her, and watching her walk away is pure torture.
After I close up the shop for the weekend, I take the stairs two at a time and knock on her door. She opens the door wearing a simple blue sundress that hits me like a steel-toed boot to the chest.
“Ready to go, sweetheart?” I ask, voice a little rougher than I intend.
She smiles, and fuck, the sight of her in that dress nearly takes me out at the knees. Her hair’s half up, little pieces framing her freckles, and her lips are painted dark red. Fuck. I can’t wait to kiss that off her pouty lips.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Her words are pure sass, but I catch the way her voice wobbles just a little at the edges. She’s nervous, trying to hide it. Doesn’t matter—I’ll take care of her.
I crowd her up to the doorframe, stepping in close.
She doesn’t give up an inch. Hell, she stands her ground, those eyes locked on mine, defiant all the way to the bone.
My gaze shifts, sharp and fast, and I catch sight of her bag sitting right there beside the door, telling me she’s on the same page as me.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.” I let my eyes roam all over her, slow and deliberate.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks go pink, and her nipples pebble under the thin dress. My cock turns hard as stone. I want to pin her right up against the wall, drag the dress up over her ass, and see if she’s wet for me.
Instead, I take the bag from her hand and sling my arm around her waist, loving the way she fits tight to my side.
I guide her down the stairs and out to my truck, watching every twitch of her body, every flick of her eyes checking shadows and alleyways.
Her instincts are sharp as hell, and I fucking love knowing she trusts me enough to let me take her home.
“You pack light,” I say, loading her bag in the backseat.
She shrugs, arms folded. “Always have.”
I close the back door and open the passenger door for her. I help her up into the cab, and her dress hikes up her thighs, showing me her killer legs. Right now, my cock is hard enough to pound nails.
I slam the door and rush around to hop into the driver’s seat and fire up the engine.
Eden doesn’t say a word at first, just watches the garage fade in the rearview while I drive through the busy city.
I can’t keep my eyes off her. No way in hell I’m letting her slip away from me. Not now. Not ever.
She catches me staring and rolls her eyes. “Eyes on the road.”
Not happening. “I can multitask.” My tone makes it clear I’m not talking about driving.
Her lips curl up at the edges. “So, what are our plans for the weekend?”
“I’m making you dinner. Steak, baked potatoes, and salad. After, we can watch a movie if you’re up for it.” I keep my voice low, but she can hear the promise when I say it. I want her in my house, my space. The need to claim her is getting harder to hide.
She cocks her head. “That actually sounds perfect,” she says, voice steady, but her pulse jumps in her neck. She wants this. She wants me.
I grunt, satisfied, and reach over to rest my hand high on her thigh. I’m tempted to pull that dress up and bury myself in her right now. But I’ll be patient. First, I’ll feed her and do all the wooing shit she deserves.
We ride the rest of the way with my big hand covering her leg. The way she shifts under my touch? My cock is in straight-up agony. I’m not sure it’s healthy to have a constant erection, but I can’t fight it when she’s around.
Nothing else exists for me except Eden. I’m already plotting how to keep her with me, how to make this weekend the first of a hell of a lot more.
The house is twenty minutes from downtown, out in a little pocket of desert that doesn’t look like much on Google Maps. The drive is dead quiet, except for my fingers tapping out code on her thigh. I pull off the main drag and steer toward my secluded home.
Eden sits forward, squinting at the outline through my windshield as I ease up to the gate. Black iron fence, nearly eight feet tall, wraps the whole fucking place like armor. The sun’s setting behind the roof and the coppery light makes the stucco turn gold.
I punch in the code, and the gate unlocks. The driveway snakes toward a low house, all clean lines and floor-to-ceiling glass. I paid extra for the view. No neighbors to peep in or run their mouths. Just me, the open sky, and now Eden.
She shifts in her seat, eyes on the big steel door and the porch in shadow. “Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathes.
I cut the engine. Crack my door first, then circle around to haul her bag and help her down.
I lean close, voice low. “Welcome to my home, sweetheart.” I hear the hitch in her breath and it almost undoes me.
My hand settles on the small of her back, just above her spectacular ass, and I guide her through the front door.
The second we’re inside, I lock up behind us.
My house is all clean lines, wood and steel and glass, but it’s nothing compared to the view of Eden standing in my entryway.
Her hazel eyes flick over every detail. “Holy cow,” she says softly, eyes wide as she takes it in. “This… is not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” I tease.
She shoots me a look. “I don’t know. Maybe more bachelor pad and less Better Homes and Gardens. I love it.”
Fuck. Her lip quirks up, and my cock kicks hard at just the sound. “I’m fucking glad. How about a quick tour before I start our dinner?”
“I’d love that.” She reaches for my hand and nearly brings me to my knees.
Her hand slides into mine, and for a second, I almost forget what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. All I want to do is trap her against the nearest wall and see how quick I can make her scream my name. Instead, I take her on a tour like a fucking gentleman. God help me.
We start in the main living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows, the kind that look out over the whole desert valley, no neighbors in sight. I watch her eyes go wide, those hazel eyes tracking the skyline. “That view doesn’t quit,” she mutters.
“The best thing about the place,” I grunt.
Off the living room is my office, lined with books. Real books. She runs her finger over the spines. Neat, cautious, careful with everything. I have to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from pulling her into my arms.
I show her the guest rooms. Three bedrooms, each one with its own fucking bathroom because I grew up waiting in line for the john. The rooms are big, clean, and private.
Eden gives a low whistle. “This is great.”
The kitchen is next, open-plan with a monster island and a row of hanging lights over the counter. Top-of-the-line everything. There’s a rack of knives so sharp they could split atoms, and a commercial espresso machine I only learned to use because I got tired of shitty gas station coffee.
Eden leans on the counter, eyes darting between the wine fridge and the walk-in pantry.
“Jesus, Bones,” she mutters. “This kitchen is a dream.”
“I love cooking, so I wanted a kitchen that’s big enough to move around in easily,” I tell her as I pour two glasses of red wine.
She reaches for the glass and takes a sip.
Her lips part, tongue darting out to taste the wine.
That mouth wrecks me. I want to see it flushed, swollen, dripping with my cum.
Instead, I force myself to stay cool, keep my hands to myself for at least the next five minutes.
“You definitely got that,” she says as she glances around.
I tip my own glass her way, toast her like she’s already the most important thing in my world. “To new beginnings,” I rumble, my voice low as gravel and twice as rough.
Eden raises her glass, eyes never leaving mine. “New beginnings,” she repeats.
While she sits at the breakfast bar, I reach into the refrigerator and grab the ingredients for our dinner.
“Where’d you learn to cook?” she asks as I salt the meat with a practiced flick.
“In the Army.” I reach for the peppers and start slicing. “It was either learn to cook or eat in the mess hall. And believe me, no one wants to eat that shit three meals a day.”
Eden takes another sip of her wine. “So, you’re telling me you went straight from the army to joining a biker gang and owning a garage?
I feel like that’s not a common life path.
” She hikes up on the barstool, one elbow on the counter, legs crossed so her dress rides up higher than any decent man could take. Good thing I’m not a decent man.
I can’t help staring. “No one ever accused me of being normal, sweetheart.” My mouth waters at the sight of those thighs.
She holds up her glass, pure sass. “You can say that again.” I fucking love every second of this. Watching Eden at my counter, showing her claws, rolling her eyes at me while I prepare our dinner, does shit to my insides that I never thought possible.
I season the steaks then get the potatoes going, all while she keeps up a steady stream of questions.
She’s efficient, that’s for damn sure. I can practically see the gears turning behind those gold-flecked eyes, cataloging every detail about this place, about me.
Instead of rattling me, it just makes me want to give her more. All of it.
A little while later, I’ve got the grill fired up on the back patio.
The sunset’s painting the desert orange and purple while the concrete still holds the heat from the day.
I put the steaks on with a satisfying sizzle and pop open another bottle of wine.
Eden’s perched on a chair at the edge of the built-in counter, skirt riding up her thighs. My mouth waters at the sight.
When I plate up the food and drop a steak and potato in front of her, she actually moans. Christ, my cock twitches just hearing her.
We eat outside in the silence broken only by the desert wind. It feels like we’re the only two people left on earth, and I fucking love it.
“Tell me your deep dark secrets.” Eden glances at me.
I take a breath. “I grew up in the foster system. Never knew my parents. Went through a new family every year or two.” I keep my face flat, because I’ve told this story before, but never like this.
Never where it matters. “Didn’t get adopted.
Didn’t want to. At eighteen, I aged out and signed up for the army.
Figured at least there I’d have a bed and three meals. ”
Her eyes flicker, but she doesn’t look away. “How long did you serve?”
“Four years. Didn’t love it, but it gave me a chance to get my life started.
I met Diesel in boot camp, and he became like my brother.
” I glance at her, just a sliver. “After I got out, I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself.
I used my savings to open the garage with Diesel, and that’s how we met a few of the Steel Sinners.
We started hanging out with them, and the next thing I knew, we were patching in. And the rest is history.”
She nods, like she’s heard this story a million times, but when I glance at her again, there’s no judgment. Just curiosity. “Tell me about the Steel Sinners.” She hesitates, then says, “I know there’s rumors. Some stuff’s probably true. But what do you actually do?”
I weigh my answer. I could lie, but that’s not how I want her to see me.
“The MC runs the casino and other legit businesses. Some of the guys get into trouble—drugs, guns, stuff like that. But I keep it clean, as much as I can.”
She holds my gaze, searching for the lie.
“I’m not a choirboy, but I keep my nose as clean as possible.”
She grins, slow and wicked. “Did I ever tell you I have a fantasy involving a choirboy?”
The tension breaks, and I realize I’ve been bracing for her to bolt. She’s still here. Still giving me shit. “We can work on your choirboy fantasy after we watch our movie.” I wink at her. “But first, I want to hear about you.
She sighs, like she knew this was coming.
“I bounced around, too. Foster care, group homes. My record for one place is sixteen months, and that was only because the state didn’t have anywhere else to send me.
” Her voice is flat, almost clinical. “Got my GED at seventeen, started working right away. Office jobs, mostly. Nothing special but I have a plan. I’ve been saving up so I can go to college at some point. ”
I squeeze her arm, just enough for her to feel it. “You’re not stuck, Eden. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
She laughs, but there’s no bitterness in it. “Yeah, well. This is the first time I’ve had the breathing room to even think about that.”
We sit in silence, the night closing in around us. The wine is almost gone, the desert cold creeping up the back of my neck. I’d give anything to have her stay here, in this moment, forever.
She turns to me, eyes bright in the light. “What comes next, Bones?”
I know what she’s really asking. I finish my wine, set the glass down, and say, “I thought you’d never ask.” I pull her into my arms. “Next, I make you mine.”
“About freaking time.” She smiles and leans up to kiss me.