Flint chuckled and stepped closer. “You okay if I check you over?”
Maren nodded mutely, her eyes still wide. Flint went through the basic physical, then gently prodded her shoulder and legs, before asking her to do a series of movements. Last, he turned her hands over carefully, inspecting the scrapes.
“No broken bones. Nothing dislocated. Just bruises and superficial abrasions.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “You can stop hovering.”
“I’m not hovering,” I growled.
Flint rolled his eyes as he stepped back. “She’s fine. Just exhausted and shaken up.”
Maren turned, swinging her legs to the side and scooting to the edge. I moved as close as possible, and she rested her head on my chest and wrapped her arms around my waist.
My fists flexed at my sides. I’d never hated anyone more than the motherfucker who put that look in her eyes. But I couldn’t punch him again because that would probably kill him. I wasn’t opposed to that outcome, but I didn’t want to have to admit I’d killed him if Maren asked. And I would never lie to her.
She looked up at me with glassy eyes and torn clothes, scraped palms and trembling legs, and all I wanted to do was wrap her in something soft, lock her in my room, and make sure no one ever touched her again.
“You’re okay.”
“I know,” she whispered.
There was nothing but honesty in her gaze, and my desire for her burned so hot I was surprised everything around us hadn’t gone up in flames.
I gripped her waist and lifted her off the table, then gently set her on her feet. She was steady, but she didn’t pull away.
I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her tight against my side, and turned toward the clinic door. My hand stayed firm on her hip as we stepped into the hall and moved toward the clubhouse.
She was warm and soft under my arm, and I didn’t say a word as we walked because my self-control was already frayed. When I finally took her to bed again, there’d be no holding back. Not this time.
10
MAREN
Lucas didn’t say a word as he guided me out of the compound’s clinic space. His hand wrapped around my waist and stayed there all the way to his room, which was good because I was trembling. Not for the reason I probably should’ve been after everything that happened outside the diner, though.
I wasn’t scared. This was a confusing mix of adrenaline and sensual need. The kind that I only experienced with Lucas.
He didn’t look down at me while we walked, and his shoulders were rigid beneath his cut. A muscle ticked at the corner of his jaw, and I worried that he was angry with me for leaving the compound. The thought made my stomach twist in knots. But his threat of punishment had also intrigued me.
After watching Lucas take down two armed men like it was nothing, all I could think about was how badly I wanted his hands on me again. How badly I wanted him to touch me the way he had last night. To go even further this time.
My chest tightened as we walked up the stairs, and my pulse echoed in my ears when we finally stopped at the door to his room.
He opened it slowly, stepped inside, and turned toward me. Watching me as I followed him inside without speaking.
The soft click of the lock sliding into place made my entire body go still.
Lucas crossed his arms over his broad chest, the leather of his cut creaking faintly.
The look on his face was pure command when he finally rasped, “Strip for me, baby.”
I didn’t hesitate to do as he said. My fingers trembled as they reached for the hem of my shirt. I pulled it over my head, letting it drop to the floor. My black pants followed, then my bra.
He didn’t speak again until I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and paused, suddenly shy.
“All of it. I want nothing between us tonight.”
Wetting my lips with my tongue, I slid the lace down my legs. Then I stood in front of him completely naked while he was still fully dressed, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
“Good girl.” His eyes darkened as his gaze raked over me, like every inch I had revealed belonged to him already. That was fair because it felt like I did after last night. “No one takes what’s mine. And you are fucking mine, Maren.”
