Chapter 10 #2
“Fuck yeah, she’s mine,” I murmur as I slide one hand into her hair and bend down to press my lips against hers. I feel her shocked intake of breath before she sighs against my mouth, and she melts against me.
This isn’t a sensual kiss. It isn’t erotic in nature. It’s a man claiming a woman. A possessive, territorial, non-sexual kiss with no tongue and barely any lip movement.
But it’s with her , and it’s the best fucking kiss of my life.
Breaking apart, I look down at Isabella as pink floods her cheeks.
She buries her face against my shoulder, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I worry about whether or not I overstepped.
I’ve been so careful around her, thinking about respecting her boundaries.
Leaning down, I say quietly, “I can’t tell if you’re embarrassed, or regretting agreeing to this. ”
“I’m not entirely sure I know what ‘this’ is, Sebastian,” she confesses as her eyes find mine.
“This is me protecting you, and I’ll explain why in a few minutes. Okay?”
She gives me a nod, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her eyes dart around the space. When her eyes land on Rico and Trey, I notice a subtle widening. I turn us so she isn’t visible to the potential recruits, pulling her against me again. “What’s wrong?”
“The shorter one has been into the bakery twice this week,” she whispers. “Never stayed long, but I found it odd. I’ve never seen him before, and suddenly he’s there twice in the same week?”
Fuck.
There’s no way these coincidences aren’t related. Now I know I need to dig deeper into Isabella’s ex-boyfriend and any potential ties to La Milla Roja.
“Prez, I’m gonna walk them out,” Luke says, and I look over my shoulder to see him ambling over with Trey and Rico.
“Hey,” Rico says, staring intently at Isabella. “I know you. You work at that awesome bakery in Eternity Springs.”
“I do,” Isabella says nervously, her hand finding mine. I squeeze it reassuringly, and notice Rico’s eyes darting down to our joined hands.
“My girl has the best bakery around,” I state, bringing her hand up to my lips. My head is turned toward Isabella, but my eyes are on Rico. “I’m there as often as I can be.”
“Oh?” Rico challenges. “I haven’t noticed you there yet.”
Wanting to get Isabella out of direct contact, in case anything goes bad, I pull her hand around my waist, turning her slightly so she’s behind me, with her front to my back.
I internally celebrate when her other hand naturally slides across my abdomen to link up.
“I may not always be there in person, but rest assured, I’m always there in other ways. ”
Rico looks like he’s going to continue the conversation when Trey steps in. “It’s good that you’re protecting your girl. Can’t be too safe these days. Listen, we gotta go. Just got a family emergency come up.”
Uh-huh. Sure.
As I watch the potential recruits leave with Luke, Trace approaches.
“That tall one is about as smart as a box of rocks, but that little guy is looking for a fight. He asked way too many personal questions about security for the Club, how you got started, and wanted to know what side of the law we stay on.”
“Nice,” I mutter as Isabella drops her arms, stepping away from me. I reach out and snag a hand, desperately needing the connection. I’m relieved when she doesn’t fight me, and I wonder if she senses how fired up I am right now. I can keep a calm exterior, but inside, my blood is fucking boiling.
Whoever this group is, they’ve not only come after my woman, but they’ve walked right into my world.
I have no doubt Luke explained the dynamics of the group, and how I live on the property.
I’ve made it abundantly clear to everyone that they’re never to mention Camila, but I wouldn’t put it past him to reference her vaguely, and Rico would catch it.
He’s a slimy bastard, that much I can tell.
“What’s the plan?” Trace asks.
“Definitely Bravo for the time being.” I chose to keep a lot of the military terminology within the Club that the guys are used to hearing and understanding.
There are five basic levels of security for the military: Normal, Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta.
Normal is the baseline for operation. Alpha is an increased risk, which we’d jumped to when Isabella’s apartment was ransacked and she was attacked.
Knowing these assholes are gutsy enough to walk right into the Clubhouse, I have to raise it to Bravo immediately.
I’m tempted to go to Charlie, which insinuates some kind of attack is imminent, but I have no evidence of that as of yet.
“Alright. I’ll send out the alert. You hanging tonight?” Trace asks, his eyes darting between me and Isabella. Usually once a week, I stay to spend time with the guys. I don’t drink a lot, but having a couple of beers with them is for morale and connections. But tonight, I’m suddenly so damn weary.
“Nah. I’m beat. I think we’re gonna head home.” I could have worded it differently, but I want Isabella to know that I’m thinking of the future. That maybe my house will become hers as well.
I say goodbye to my men, then slowly begin walking the short distance back to my property. Isabella silently walks beside me. I can almost hear her mind working as she tries to come to terms with the evening.
“Should I be worried?” she finally asks quietly.
“I don’t know,” I admit. When she gasps, I stop walking to turn to her. Catching her face in my hands, I continue. “Let me rephrase. I’m not sure what we’re up against here. There has to be a connection between those guys and what’s happened at your apartment and with your ex.”
“I don’t like the unknowns.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and her eyes glaze over with tears. “I don’t do well with gray. I’d rather have black and white.”
“I know, mi Reina ,” I reply tenderly. “It’s why you like baking. The measurements either work, or they don’t.”
“How am I supposed to go on working like nothing is happening?” Isabella’s voice cracks as her emotions take over.
“Hi, welcome to Bake, Batter, and Bowl. Would you like an apple turnover? I made them this morning after being threatened by my ex-boyfriend. Oh, you’d rather have a red velvet cupcake?
Those are on the docket for this afternoon, when I’ll undoubtedly get roughed up by the gang my ex apparently got involved with.
No, sorry, I don’t make donuts here. There’s a donut shop down the street, and I bet they don’t have to fear for their lives while working.
” Her voice rises, bordering on hysteria.
“Isabella,” I say, resting my hands on her shoulders. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“What?” she asks, confused.
“It’s a clear question, sweetheart. Have I ever lied to you?”
She pauses to think, her eyes going over my right shoulder. “I don’t think so, no.”
“I’ve been asking you out for years. Yes?”
She nods, almost shyly.
“Do you still stand by your previous statement, that I haven’t lied to you?”
Her eyes widen. “Well, I wasn’t thinking in terms of you asking me out.”
“How is it any different?” I ask.
Isabella shrugs. “It’s just you’re … you.”
I stare at her incredulously. “So?”
“I’ve seen the women you’ve been with before,” she retorts. “I bet Camila’s mother is all-American, skinny, and absolutely beautiful.”
Jesus Christ.
“I don’t know, maybe she is,” I say flippantly, and I see the flash of pain that crosses Isabella’s face. But I’m so fucking angry I can’t even feel guilty. This woman still doesn’t think she’s enough.
“See?” she says, but the slight tremor in her voice gives away how Isabella feels. She’s hurt, even though she basically brought it on herself.
“No, I don’t fucking see,” I say angrily.
“But maybe it’s about time you see, Naranja .
If I were forced to pick Camila’s biological mother out of a lineup, I’m not sure if I could do it.
Yeah, it’s been years since I’ve seen her, but also because she’s a dime a dozen.
Fucking forgettable. I might have slept with her, but it wasn’t serious, and she was never someone I saw myself settling down with. ”
Isabella crosses her arms, forcing her breasts to sit higher, and the fabric of her shirt strains to hold them in. With only a quick glance, I see her erect nipples, and I fucking salivate so badly I have to force myself not to drop to my knees and suck one into my mouth.
“You, however,” I finally say, my voice thick and husky, “I could pick out of a lineup no matter what. The curve of your waist. That ass that I’ve dreamt about more than once. Your hair that I desperately want wrapped around my fist. The legs I’ve visualized hooked around my body.”
“S — so you’ve thought about sex,” she stammers. “That’s a physical reaction. It’s chemical.”
I grab her left hand, bringing it up to my chest, but my eyes don’t leave hers.
“I’ve thought about how it would feel to wake up with your hand on my chest. I’ve thought about the freckle on your ring finger more often than I care to admit,” I tell her with a quiet chuckle, and Isabella takes a quick breath as her eyes whip down to look at her hand.
“I’ve thought about whether or not you like to cuddle, and if just being in your presence would lull me to sleep faster than any medication ever could.
I may have thought about sex, Naranja , but I’m so far past that with you. ”