Chapter 7
Kit
Isighed as I stared down at the baseboard in front of me.
The toothbrush I held was gripped in my hand like a weapon.
I'd agreed to be Hell's old lady. Freaked out.
Went to Seek and let her convince me to give the big oaf a chance.
And what did I get for my troubles? Radio silence for over a week.
As far as I knew he hadn't spoken to Smokehouse.
He hadn't even been around much. Was he avoiding me?
It wasn't hard for me to tell that the anger I was feeling toward him spawned from my fear that he'd changed his mind.
It didn't matter that I had my own panic attack about taking our relationship to the next level.
I was allowed. He was the man. He was the one who was supposed to be certain about everything and convince me it would be alright.
Huffing, I crossed my arms and legs as I sat on the floor and gave into the need to pout a little.
A knock on the door to my apartment had me rolling my eyes.
It was probably Riptide wondering where something was over in the bar.
It was my night off and he always double checked with me a few times during the day before he took over.
Normally, I appreciated his thoroughness.
Today I wasn’t in the mood to answer a bunch of questions.
Not even for the bar I loved. The Bunker was as much my baby as it was the MCs.
Smoke was helping Rip out tonight. The bar would be fine without me for the next two days.
Well, I’d have a mess to clean up and reorganizing to do, but the building would still be standing.
Probably. Smoke was working at the bar again since the guys weren't back working on the school yet.
That project would likely be put off for a while.
They couldn't afford to divide their attention and take the risk that the mafia would come after the clubhouse and those of us living here.
I opened the door and froze when I saw Hellfire was standing there instead of Riptide.
My eyes widened as I looked up at him. He was wearing jeans and his cut, but he'd added a t-shirt that hugged his muscles.
His hair was damp and his dark brown eyes were focused on me.
A cut above his eye was fresh and angry.
Blood dripped down over his cheek and into his dark beard.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice sounding breathless even to my own ears.
Seeing him all bloodied up reminded me of how dangerous he was.
Most of the time he was like a huge, huggable teddy bear.
To me at least. It was easy to forget that this man could kill with his bare hands.
Despite his injury, it was a welcomed reminder of who he could be.
There was just something incredibly sexy about a man who was dangerous and willing to protect those he loved.
I reached out and gripped his cut, tugging him into the apartment.
He came along easily enough, stepping inside, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made heat pool low in my belly. "It's nothing," he said.
"Sit," I told him, shoving him toward my dining room table. Before he could say anything, I hurried out of the room to grab my first aid kit. It was something necessary around this place. Blood and bikers went together like a hammer and nails.
When I came back out he was sitting there, holding a wad of paper towels to the gash on his forehead. "Let me see." I set the kit down and took the mass of towels from him when he handed it over. It was soaked with blood. I winced at the sight of the cut. "What happened?" I asked again.
"Had a run-in with your brother," he said, voice strangely pleasant.
My eyes widened and I froze, staring down at him in shock. "What? Why?"
He sighed, his eyes studying me as I dabbed at the cut to try and clean it up so I could see what we were dealing with. "I told you I was going to talk to him about us."
My heart started pounding as I realized what he meant. "You did," I replied, a little hesitant, "but it's been a week. I sort of thought-" Breaking off, I bit back what I was going to say.
"You thought I changed my mind." It wasn’t a question and was said in a grim tone.
His large hand gripped my chin and forced my face to the side so I had to stare into his eyes.
They were so dark they were nearly black.
His gaze was intense, but there wasn't any anger there.
"I’m not changing my mind," he said, his voice low and deep.
"Not when it comes to what I want. Which is you.
" He released me and let his hand drop back to his lap. He sat back, studying my reaction.
I swallowed, trying to get my thoughts together. "What did Smoke say?" I wasn’t ready to address the fact that I was what he wanted. My heart skipped in my chest at the thought.
He shrugged. "Nothing much."
My brows rose at that as I grabbed the antiseptic cream. "Nothing much?" I repeated.
"Just that he already knew how I felt and that he was planning to prod me into admitting I have feelings for you." He grinned at me.
Glowering at him, I fisted my hands on my hips. "As if I need my brother's help in getting a man," I grumbled. Before I could continue to vent, Hellfire laughed, then tugged me down onto his lap. His lips were on mine, drowning my complaints in an instant.
"You're right," he said when he pulled back. "You don't need anyone's help." The look he gave me made me flush with pleasure. "But that doesn't mean you won't get it."
My skin was flushed and my core pulsed from both the kiss and sitting in his lap. He didn’t seem to realize how much he affected me. My body was trembling as I fought against the desire threatening to overwhelm me.
He was right, though. Smoke would never stop butting into my life and I may as well get used to it.
Most of the time I enjoyed having an older brother.
We’d stayed pretty close as we grew up and I hoped one day to be old geezers, watching our grandkids play together.
That didn’t mean that I appreciated how much he tried to control my life.
I was perfectly in control of it and didn’t need his help.
"I also spoke to Lockout," Hell continued.
Frowning, I reached over and grabbed a butterfly bandage from my supplies. I shifted on his lap so that I could easily reach his eye. "About what?" If he was going to act like me sitting on his lap didn’t affect him, I could do the same. I ignored my shaking fingers.
"Making you my old lady."
I hesitated a moment, then squeezed his cut together until the torn edges of skin were aligned, then applied the bandage.
He didn’t flinch, or make a sound as I worked on the tender area.
"Do you need Lockout's permission?" That was new.
I hadn't heard of any of the other men asking for permission.
The fact that we were sitting here, discussing us getting into a relationship so nonchalantly was throwing me off.
"No. But I figured, since you work for the club, I should check before we make this official."
My eyes shot to his face, widening in shock. "Official?"
He nodded. "I want you as my old lady, Kit."
"But-"
"You have the final say here," he said, pressing his finger to my lips to silence me. "But I want you. Not just for the night. Not even for a little while. I want you to be mine, forever."
My heart was pounding again as I tried to figure out what to say.
He was everything I wanted in a man. He was strong, protective, and loyal.
He was also kind and caring. And sexy as hell.
His dark hair and eyes, and quiet nature often made him look like he was brooding, but he was always quick to smile.
His skin was tanned and his muscles bulged, decorated with colorful tattoos.
No woman alive would turn him down. So why was I hesitating?
You’ve spent so long wanting him, what will you do next?
Is he going to binge watch shows with you?
What would date night even look like? What if all the fantasy built in my head over the years is just that?
Fantasy? I was on the verge of a panic attack when his hand clamped firmly and smoothly on my thigh.
The panic and doubt drained away and I composed myself.
"What did Lock say?" I asked, eyes darting away from his, ignoring the question in his words. I wasn’t ready. This was all so overwhelming. I’d been wanting it for so long it was almost like now that it was here, I was worried it would be snatched away from me if I acknowledged it.
Breathless as I waited for the answer, I ran my hand over his cheek and beard.
Being able to touch him any way I wanted was freeing after so long of hiding my love for him.
"He said it was up to you."
My brows pulled together as I studied his face. "That's it?"
Hell nodded. "He said you're a grown woman and can make your own decisions." He grinned, but there was still a hint of worry in his eyes. "We have both his blessing and your brother’s. What do you say, Kit? Will you be mine?"
Biting my lower lip as my thoughts mixed into a chaotic jumble, I tried to quiet those stupid fears that kept rearing their ugly heads. "You’re not worried, Hell?"
"About what, Gorgeous?" His hand lifted and his thumb brushed over my cheek.
"That this is all going to go wrong?" I admitted.
His eyes narrowed in confusion. "Wrong how?"
I shrugged and shook my head. I couldn't put words to what I was feeling, but it was like a dark cloud hanging over me, waiting to rain down on us.
He sighed and pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. I sighed as I rested my head on his chest. He felt so good, so warm and strong. I wanted to stay like this forever.
"What's got you so scared, Kit? We've been flirting for years."
"I know." We had. It was a fun game that never failed to rev me up, but now that it was real, I was terrified. "What if I lose you?"
"Why would you lose me?" he asked, sounding baffled.
"I don't know," I whispered. "I'm not good at relationships."
He chuckled softly. "Neither am I. Haven't had many, to be honest." He tipped my head back and stared into my eyes. "We'll figure it out together, Vixen."
I nodded, feeling a little better. "You sure you want to take this on? I'm not the easiest person in the world to deal with. I can be a little controlling and OCD." I gave him a shaky grin.
"You're worth it," he said, his voice husky.
My heart melted and I knew there was no going back. Not that I wanted to go back. I'd been waiting for this man to be mine for so long. I wasn't going to let my fears get in the way of being happy with him.
His head dipped and he kissed me again. This time it wasn't as tentative or sweet. His tongue slid into my mouth, tangling with mine as he explored me. My hands gripped his cut as I leaned into him, my body melting into his.
He groaned as he pulled away and stared down at me with hungry eyes. "I want you, Kit." He looked around the room. "But not before you answer my question. Put me out of my misery, Vixen. Say you'll be mine."
"I'm yours," I whispered.
His grin was victorious. "Fucking finally," he muttered before his mouth claimed mine once more.
There was no going back. Not that I wanted to. I laughed as Hellfire stood up, with me in his arms. He was so strong, I was probably as light as a bag of feathers to him, but I still squirmed. "I can walk."
"No need," he rumbled, lowering his head so he could brush his lips over my neck.
I shivered at the touch, his hot breath grazing over sensitive nerve endings. I’d dreamed of this, of him, for so long and he was finally mine.
He carried me through my kitchen into the master bedroom.
Setting me on my feet, he turned me to face the bed.
He kissed my neck again as he slid my hair over one shoulder, giving himself better access to the other side.
My eyes closed as his hands slid over my body, cupping my breasts, then sliding down to my hips.
I was gasping for air, already so turned on I wasn't sure I could stand the slow pace he was setting. Turning to face him, I pushed at his cut, eager to get it and his t-shirt off. I frowned up at him when he bracketed my wrists with his huge hands.
"I've waited for this for too long to rush, Baby," he told me.
I scowled at him. "You can go slow later."
His grin was pure sin. "Oh, I plan on it." He kissed me again and I struggled against him, trying to get out of his hold. "Kit," he growled. "Let me do this."
"No."
He chuckled and released me. I shoved at his cut again and this time he let it fall to the floor.
His t-shirt came next, though he had to help me take that up since he was so much taller, and I took a moment to admire his body.
There was dark hair scattered over his muscular chest. He was all man and it was slowly starting to sink in that he was mine.
I ran my hands over his left bicep where a tattoo crawled up over his shoulder and covered his left pec.
Everything about him was perfect. Even the ink’s distortion by the scar from where he got shot just added to his masculinity.
"Now who's taking her time?" His voice was husky, teasing, as he stared down at me.
I looked up into his eyes, smiling. "You're gorgeous."
His brows shot up. "Me? You're the one who's gorgeous."
"I said it first."
He shook his head. "You're one of a kind, Vixen" he said before he kissed me again.
This kiss was different than the others had been so far. It was deep, passionate, and full of promise. I could feel the heat building between us, and I wanted to see if it would burn us alive or consume us with pleasure.