"Hey." Shadow squeezes my hand. "Where'd you go?"
"Just thinking about tomorrow."
"Don't." He stands, pulls me up with him. "Tomorrow I'll deal with Phantom. Tomorrow we'll handle the threat. Tomorrow the club gets involved."
He backs me against the deck railing, his body pressing into mine.
"But tonight?" His voice drops, rough and wanting. "Tonight you're mine. Just mine. No club. No threats. No one else."
My breath catches. "Shadow?—"
"Been thinking about this all day." His mouth finds my neck, teeth grazing the marks he left. "Getting you alone. In my space. In my bed."
"We should talk about my dad?—"
"Tomorrow." He kisses me, deep and claiming. "Tomorrow I'll talk to him. Tell him everything. But tonight..."
His hands slide under my shirt, finding bare skin.
"Tonight I'm going to take you to bed and remind you exactly who you belong to."
Heat floods through me, want and need tangling together. "Shadow?—"
"Bedroom. Now."
He takes my hand, leads me inside.
Charlie settles on the couch with one of her toys, content.
And as Shadow's bedroom door closes behind us, his hands already pulling at my clothes, I let everything else fall away.
Tomorrow we face my father. Tomorrow we deal with the threat.
But tonight?
Tonight I'm his.
CHAPTER FIVE
Shadow
Grace is still asleep when I wake.
Morning light filters through the bedroom curtains, painting her skin gold.
She's sprawled across my chest, one leg hooked over mine, her hair a pink tangle across the pillow.
The sheet has slipped down to her waist, and I can see the marks I left on her—bite marks on her shoulder, hickeys blooming purple along her throat, fingerprint bruises on her hips.
Mine.
The possessive satisfaction that rolls through me should probably worry me.
Should make me question what the hell I'm doing, claiming Phantom's daughter like this, marking her up, keeping her in my bed.
But it doesn't.
Because she's exactly where she belongs.
