“You really are insatiable.”
“Got a lot of time to make up for,” he says, pushing my robe to the floor.
“Well we’ll never leave this room if we start something, so let’s at least take it to the shower.”
“Lead the way, princess.”
Diablo
Having Elizabeth on the back of my bike again feels right, and I’m almost sad when we arrive at the clubhouse. At the same time, having her back here with me is even better. When allthis stuff with Diablos Rojos is sorted out, I’m getting us a place of our own, but until then, this is home.
We’re met with cheers from Tank, Pretty Boy, and Slim, as we walk in hand-in-hand.
“Finally!” Tank shouts.
“Took you both long enough,” Pretty Boy says.
We laugh as we join them at the table, Tank sliding beers to us both.
“Is my house still in one piece?” Slim asks.
A blush spreads across Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she looks down at the bottle.
“Your house is fine,” I say, “but Elizabeth is moving back in here with me, at least until we get our own place.”
I pull her into me for a hug before leaning down to kiss her, resulting in more cheers from the guys.
“What’s all this racket?” El Jefe yells, walking into the bar area from the private room. His face softens when he sees us. “Ah, Beth, it’s good to have you back, and I’m pleased to see you’ve both made up.”
“Yeah,” Tipo says, moving to stand next to us. “You’ve decided to forgive this knucklehead then?”
She chuckles and takes a sip of her beer.
“I’m not forgiven yet,” I say, kissing the back of the hand I’m still holding. “But we’re working things out.”
“Good,” El Jefe says, “and if he gives you any more trouble, you come and see me.”
“Now that I can do,” Elizabeth says.
“Besides, we owe you. Your idea might just save our club; none of us wanted to go back to running guns or drugs, but we might not have had a choice if things escalated with Diablos Rojos.”
“It was just an idea,” Elizabeth says, “besides, it might not even work.”
“We’ll find out on Saturday,” Tipo says, “and we’ll let you know as soon as possible.”
“Elizabeth will find out when we do,” I say, “she’ll be with us.”
“Excuse me?” El Jefe asks, his brows rising.
“I promised her I’m not leaving her again; so if I’m going on a ride, she’s coming with me.”
“Girlfriends don’t join us on rides,” Tipo says, “you know the rules.”
“Yeah,” Elizabeth says, “I can stay—”
“No, I promised you—”
“Angel, you can’t literally be glued to my side twenty-four-seven.”
