Chapter 8 #3
Putting Becks down, he made sure her skirts didn’t get tangled up or stepped on. He had no idea how she was balancing in those heels, but he was starting to think he had a shoe fetish he never knew he had before. Maybe it was just a Becks Fremont—nope. A Becks Keir fetish.
“You’re changing your last name,” he informed her as he pulled his helmet out of the saddlebag.
He didn’t have a spare, so she was getting his.
It was illegal for him to ride without one, but he didn’t give a damn.
They’d head to the store at some point to get a new helmet for her, but until then, she would not be riding without one.
“Am I?” she questioned as he buckled the strap under her chin.
Ghost kept one eye on the groomsmen, who were starting to point in their direction, and the other on what he was doing. “You are. Also, I owe you a new dress.”
Her eyebrows flew up. He hadn’t put the visor down yet. “You do? Why?”
Ghost pulled his pocketknife out again, and flipped it open with a twist of his wrist. Becks startled, but she didn’t back away from him. Her faith in him humbled Ghost. They might be married, but they were still little more than strangers.
As Ghost knelt in front of her, he heard noises rising from across the parking lot. It must have distracted Becks, because she jumped when he started to cut through her thick skirts.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to pull her dress out of his grip.
“Hold still,” Ghost ordered. “I don’t want to cut you.”
“But you’ll cut my dress?”
He’d warned her, hadn’t he? “You can’t ride on my bike with skirts this long. Hence me cutting off the bottom and owing you a new dress.”
Becks frowned down at him, though she did stop resisting. “I loved this dress.”
“You bought this dress to impress another man,” he reminded her, his voice harsh. “You’ll buy another one,” he informed her as he came around behind her, still slicing. “Only this time, you’ll buy it for me.”
“You’re not used to not getting your way, are you?”
Ghost finished off his long slice. Jagged, her skirt now fell to just above her knees.
He stood up and pocketed his knife. “Usually,” he said, still very aware of the shouting coming from the groomsmen.
“But never forget who’s in charge here, Becks.
I may be demanding, pushing you and your body to their limits, both in and out of the bedroom, but never forget that it’s you who rules me.
” He cupped her face. “You only ever have to ask, baby,” he told her softly, “and I’ll lay the world at your feet. ”
“I don’t need the world,” Becks said, turning her face into his left palm. “It’s going to sound so selfish, but I just want to matter. I want to be someone’s priority, the person they think about first and last and always.”
Ghost bent his head and kissed her gently. “That’s not a selfish ask, and something we can talk about more in depth. Just later.”
Becks looked around him to the groomsmen.
Using the reflection in the church’s window, Ghost saw that two of them were closer than before.
They were still shouting at the other two while pointing at Becks and Ghost. There was still no sign of Ritchie, though depending on what he was on, he might be passed out somewhere.
Ghost had kicked him hard, but not enough to permanently damage the fucker.
“Yeah, I don’t want you to get into another fight either.”
Ghost snorted, holding out his hand to help her step out of the bottom half of her dress that was now pooled on the sidewalk.
“I don’t give a damn about them. We’ve been married almost fifteen minutes, and I’m not inside you yet.
” He straddled his hog. “That’s a tragedy I plan to rectify as soon as possible, and preferably without an audience that includes your family members. ”
Becks’ cheeks flushed at his crass words, but he also saw her eyes alight with humor.
“Sounds good to me.” She put the faceplate down and then got on the bike behind him.
When she put her arms around his waist, Ghost took hold of her wrists and pulled her tighter.
He kicked up the stand and started the engine.
Beck’s voice shouted over the roar, “So is now a good time to mention I’ve never ridden on the back of one of these before? ”
Ghost had no intention of accidentally ending up at the hotel where the groomsmen and out-of-town wedding guests were staying, but he also did not have the patience for a long ride to put distance between Becks’ hometown and them.
He got them to the highway, aiming north.
He’d give it ten miles, and then he was stopping at the next hotel or he’d end up fucking his wife for the first time over a picnic table at a rest stop. Which he wouldn’t do… Hopefully.
No! No, of course he wouldn’t do that. Becks deserved a bed and comfort and a shower, and hell, lunch. He knew he hadn’t eaten other than a gas station donut early that morning, and both of them were going to need their energy for what he had in mind for them.
“I just realized I don’t have my purse or my phone!” she called over the engine.
“Ranger will get them,” he assured her. He’d also need to get some prospects down here to move all her stuff to Mount Grove.
The only plus side about her plans for moving to the city after the wedding was she was already packed.
It’d be easy to have them rent a truck and come down to collect her things without needing Becks to return too.
“It’s so weird, you calling him ‘Ranger’. His buddies in the Army called him ‘Snow White’.”
Ghost snorted. “Seriously? Why?” Ranger had said he just went by his surname in the Army, whereas Ghost, Lucky, Bulldog, and some of the others kept their military monikers.
“I think because of his hair,” she replied, and he felt her shrug against his back.
“Not very original in my opinion, but he will always be ‘Liam’ to me.” Ghost was about to make a smart-ass comment about getting back at Ranger for keeping that information to himself when he heard Becks speak again.
Her voice was lower, but he was able to make out her words. “I hope he’ll forgive me.”
Ghost spotted a hotel sign and took the next exit. He pushed the yellow light, taking the turn quickly. For having never ridden before, Becks didn’t fight the turnings, leaning with him instead of against him.
He pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine.
He steadied Becks as she got off the seat before dismounting himself, but he didn’t let her get far.
Instead, he pushed her back onto the seat, like she was sitting sidesaddle on a horse, removed his helmet from her head, and then caged her in with his arms. Christ, he loved her eyes, and thanked God she didn’t have the same eyes as her brother.
“Why would he need to forgive you?” Had something else happened at the wedding before he arrived?
Becks looked at Ghost like she was questioning his sanity. “Um, because we just ditched him with my mess? All those out-of-town guests, the caterers, the photographer… Hell, even Ritchie! What if he decides to go back and make a stink?”
“Ranger can handle himself,” Ghost reassured her. “As for the rest, I’ll make sure everyone gets compensated appropriately.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What, are you rich or something?”
Ghost chuckled lightly. “No, but I am a single man who hasn’t had a living expense bill his entire adult life. I don’t spend my money on junk I don’t need, and I take a decent salary from the bar, not to mention now being named president.”
“You get a salary from the club too?”
Ghost nodded. “There are three positions that do: president, VP, and sergeant at arms. It’s not anything major, but just a little something extra.
” He touched a lock of hair that had fallen loose from her bun.
“Beyond Ranger being my enforcer, he’s your brother.
He might be pissed as hell at me, but he’ll do right by you, Rebel. ”
She bit her lip, drawing his eyes down to the round, plump ridges.
She had a light coating of red lipstick that was elegant rather than flashy.
Ghost had never been jealous of a pair of teeth before, but fucking hell, he was now.
Christ, he had it bad for this woman, and she had no concept of how much.
To save his aching balls, Ghost reached up and gently pulled her lip out from between her teeth.
“If you want to go back, I’ll take you back,” he told her honestly.
“We’ll hop back on my hog, if that’ll make you feel better.
Or…” he added, his eyes dropping down to her neckline and thin halter straps.
Becks’ cheeks flushed. “Or…?” she asked, just as leadingly.
“God, I love your voice.” His was little more than a growl himself. He traced the lace that covered the top of her breasts. She might have loved this dress, but he had no doubt she bought it with modesty in mind, and Ghost had no intention of keeping her modest.
“Or,” she pressed again.
There were too many options, too many things he wanted to do to her.
“Or,” he continued, letting his fingers slide down to trace the roundness of her tits under the white cloth of her dress.
“I get us a room, cut the rest of this dress off you, and use its scraps to tie to you the bed where I make you scream my name so loudly they call hotel security.”
Becks visibly shook at his words. “B,” she breathed. “I choose Option B.”