Chapter 9
SAVANNAH
I stretched out on the bed with one of the books Kane brought me two days ago resting on my stomach.
I was normally a fast reader, but I had only finished the first chapter so far.
I’d tried to read the same paragraph four times already, but nothing was sinking in.
My mind was too full, my body too restless, and the walls were starting to close in on me.
Cabin fever was real, and I had it bad.
I couldn’t blame it on being uncomfortable, though. The bed was ridiculously soft, the bathroom was now fully stocked with my preferred toiletries, and Kane kept bringing me delicious food. I'd even been given clean clothes from my apartment.
Even worse, I’d started to look forward to the stolen moments with the man who’d taken me. I’d gotten used to the low rumble of Kane’s voice filling the small space when he stayed longer than a few minutes.
That was the thing that had changed the most since he kissed me a few days ago.
Instead of just asking me questions about my brother, he had started to share things about himself with me. Nothing that helped me figure out what his club wanted from Devon. Just personal stuff.
I knew about the car his dad had given to him and his brother to race when they were teenagers. The fights he used to get into at school. The trouble he’d caused growing up.
He didn’t sugarcoat anything as he gave me a clearer picture of the man behind the reputation. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected from the guy who kidnapped me. I was learning that Kane Beckett wasn’t just some cold, ruthless MC president.
There was depth beneath the danger. A solid, unshakable kind of loyalty. And something magnetic that pulled at me in a way I didn’t want to analyze too closely. Because every time he walked into this room, my body reacted.
My skin flushed. My pulse jumped like it had been waiting for him. And butterflies swirled in my stomach. Especially after that kiss.
I didn’t even know what to call this thing between us. It was too primal to be just an attraction.
I’d never felt anything like it before. Not even close.
I wasn’t supposed to crave the presence of the man who’d drugged and kidnapped me. To want his stories, his company, or his attention. And I definitely shouldn’t be dreaming about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled away after kissing me the other morning.
But I did.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of his mouth on mine. The scrape of his beard. The way his arms caged me in like he didn’t plan to let go.
I rubbed a hand over my face with a groan, wondering what was wrong with me.
Everything about this situation was messed up. But no matter how hard I tried to hold on to my anger, it slipped through my fingers every time Kane walked through that door and looked at me like I mattered.
In a way that made me question, again and again, what he’d really meant when he said I was his.
The door swung open and startled me from my thoughts. Kane stepped into the bedroom, wearing that same unreadable expression that never failed to make my pulse spike. His hair was still damp, which made me wonder where he’d been showering since I hadn’t seen him use the one in here.
He was dressed in worn jeans and a black tee that stretched across his chest in a way that should’ve been illegal. His club cut was over it, and he had black motorcycle boots on his feet.
“Figured it’s time you got a little freedom.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Don’t make me regret it.”
I sat up straighter, suspicious but intrigued. “Other than the obvious of not trying to get away, what does that mean?”
His eyes narrowed. “No flirting with my men to try to get information.”
“No worries there.” I shook my head with a snort. “It wouldn’t be worth the effort when it has no chance of working.”
“Not sure why you think that,” he murmured, his gaze sweeping over me.
Heat crept into my cheeks, but I ignored it as I slid off the bed. “What exactly does ‘a little freedom’ mean?”
“You can come out to the common room,” he said, holding the door open as he waited for me to pass. “Stick close to me.”
I followed him down a short hall and through a wide doorway into an open space.
Pool tables lined one side, a dartboard hung on the other, and a bar—clearly hand-built from reclaimed lumber—stood straight ahead.
Brown leather couches and chairs filled the space, while several flat screens played some kind of car race.
Three men were hanging out at the bar. Two were seated on stools, while the other leaned against the end of the counter with a beer in hand.
They all looked up when I walked in and went still.
Kane didn’t say a word, but I felt the shift in the air as their gaze flicked from me to him and back again.
The one who was standing grinned first. He had a beard a few shades darker than Kane’s and sharp eyes filled with a hint of mischief. “Nice to see my brother finally decided to share.”
“Edge,” Kane warned.
I laughed at their byplay, and the tension eased instantly. The other two—Axle and Nitro—introduced themselves.
“Want a beer?” Axle asked, nudging an open stool out with his foot.
“She’s twenty,” Kane cut in before I could answer.
Nitro snorted. “Since when do we play by the rules?”
Edge gave him a look. “Since Kane got all twisted up over?—”
“Enough,” Kane cut him off, leaving me to wonder if his brother had been about to say that he was being twisted up over me.
Nitro eyed Kane with a smirk. “Worried about what the pretty barista will say about you if she has a drink or two?”
“I’m good with soda if you have any,” I said quickly, sitting on the edge of the stool. “Or water.”
The guys chuckled, and the conversation turned casual.
Somehow, I found myself joking with them, asking questions but steering clear of club business or my brother.
I answered a few and even found myself actually relaxing.
They gave off a rough-around-the-edges found-family vibe that felt more like a team than a gang.
The whole thing felt shockingly normal.
But while I soaked it in after being confined for so long, I was hyperaware of Kane’s focus on me.
He didn’t sit. Didn’t drink. Didn’t even talk much.
Just lingered a few inches to my left, arms crossed and jaw ticking as he watched over me. When I laughed at something Axle said, I felt Kane’s gaze burn hotter.
The possibility that he wasn’t just being protective grew. Maybe he was jealous.
And I hated how much the thought made my pulse race.
The easy rhythm of conversation lulled me into forgetting why I was here. It felt like I was hanging out in a bar. Or at least what I imagined since I’d never spent much time in one before.
Axle smirked at me. “You’re a barista, huh? That mean you can make one of those leaf pattern things in foam?”
“Latte art,” I corrected with a grin. “And yeah, I can do all kinds of shapes. Never tried a motorcycle, but I bet I could pull it off.”
Nitro let out a low whistle. “Marry me.”
I laughed, rolling my eyes as I sipped my soda. “Sorry, Nitro. I’m holding out for someone with a better appreciation for properly pulled espresso.”
He clutched his chest like I’d wounded him, then looked at Kane. “You hear that, Prez? Your girl’s got standards.”
Your girl.
Kane didn’t say anything, but I could feel the heat of his stare singe the side of my face. My pulse kicked up another notch.
Before I could pivot the conversation, Axle bumped my arm lightly with the back of his knuckles. “Next time you’re behind a machine, I expect a flaming skull in my latte.”
The touch was light. Casual. Not even remotely suggestive.
But the second his skin brushed mine, a low growl rumbled from Kane.
Everything stilled.
Even Edge, who’d been chuckling at Nitro’s antics, went quiet.
“Axle.” Kane’s voice was tight with warning. Enough for the one word to carry weight.
Axle’s hands lifted in mock surrender. “Shit, sorry, Prez. Was just playin’ around.”
“I know.” It was impossible to miss the tension rolling off him in waves. “Next time, don’t touch what’s mine.”
A dozen things rushed through my head at once. The possessive way he said it. The fact that the guys didn’t bat an eye. The ridiculous flutter in my stomach that told me I liked his possessive words way too much.
Kane stepped in closer, his hand sliding around my waist like he was staking a claim. His breath hit my ear a second later.
“Keep testing me, sugar.” His rough tone sent a full-body shiver down my spine. “And after I put my club brother through a wall, you’re gonna find yourself being fucked up against it.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, my thighs clenching reflexively as heat flooded my system. And frustrated by how badly I wanted to find out if he meant it.