Her eyes flew up to mine, wide and slightly stunned. A gentle, shy smile curved her lips. “I…no one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”
“They should have.” I paused, holding her gaze deliberately. “You’re too much in the best possible way.”
She looked breathless, her lips slightly parted. “Thank you, Ace.”
“Colter,” I muttered with a frown. “My name is Colter.”
“Colter? But don’t?—”
“You call me Colter.”
Before she could respond, the server returned with our food. The spell between us temporarily broke, and we turned to eating. We conversed during the meal, though I let her do most of the talking, simply enjoying the beautiful sound of her voice.
Whenever she would pause and look apologetic, I simply asked another question and encouraged her to answer. Eventually, she seemed to realize that I wasn’t annoyed by her constant chatter, but I knew it would take time before she believed it didn’t bother me at all. This was progress, though.
By the time dessert arrived, my cock throbbed painfully beneath the table. I ached to take her somewhere quiet and show her exactly how I felt about the way she kept blushing.
Dessert was a slow-burning exercise in restraint. She ordered cheesecake, and I went for the key lime pie. But I left it alone. The hunger I felt wasn’t for food.
My attention stayed locked on her as she took the first bite. Her tongue darted out to catch a crumb from the corner of her mouth, and I nearly growled out loud, fantasizing about how those lips would look sliding up and down my cock, my fingers tangled in her soft honey-colored hair.
Her eyes flickered up, noticing my stare. “You’re watching me.”
“Yes.”
“Is there something wrong?”
“No.” My voice dropped lower. “Just imagining how your mouth would taste right now.”
Her cheeks flamed scarlet, and she quickly took another bite, her eyes wide, but she didn’t look away. Fuck, she was tempting. She had some kind of magnetic pull. It wasn’t just physical, either. Something deeper and far more primal had taken hold of me, tightening around my heart in a way I’d never felt. It should’ve worried me, but it didn’t.
When the meal finally ended, I stood carefully, keeping the bulge in my jeans hidden. She placed her hand in mine when I offered it without hesitation, her eyes filled with heat and uncertainty.
The ride home was thick with anticipation. She didn’t protest or even question when I took the turn toward my place instead of hers. There was a moment where I saw understanding in her expression, acceptance rather than confusion. We hadn’t talked about it, but that didn’t matter. She knew exactly where I was taking her, and she was all in.
We passed several homes on the drive out to my place, which was around halfway between the compound and downtown Riverstone. The properties were all at least an acre apart, and most belonged to my club brothers, their family members, or close friends. It was intentional, given our preference to keep outsiders at a safe distance from the compound. The clubhouse wasn’t some isolated safe house, but it wasn’t exactly easy to find either. And that was exactly how we liked it.
My house came into view as we drove down the tree-lined drive, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The sleek, modern Craftsman was illuminated softly by warm outdoor lights. It was a careful blend of traditional and contemporary architecture—clean, strong lines softened by dark stone accents and earth tones. A meticulously landscaped yard, simple greenery, attractive but with no unnecessary clutter. My home was two stories and had a three-car garage where I could keep my motorcycles and SUV, with enough room to work on them if I didn’t feel like using one of the Hounds’ garages.
I’d chosen to move into it after only a couple of years living in the dorm-style rooms at the clubhouse. I had needed somewhere organized and uncluttered. Not that my office on the compound was a mess, I’d never get anything done. But this was a place of calm amid the constant chaos of my work with the Hounds.
I stole a glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing quick, but she looked steady. Anticipation coiled tight in my gut as I pulled the SUV into my garage and turned off the ignition, leaving us wrapped in the charged silence for a heartbeat.
Tonight, she’d understand exactly what being mine meant.
My hand rested lightly on the small of her back as I led her up the short flight of steps to the door that opened into a mud room on the side of the house. I pushed open the front door, stepping aside to let her enter first. It led into the front area of the house, and as we walked into the space, Poppy glanced around, her eyes wide, drinking in every detail. The open and expansive interior had high ceilings and dark wood floors, creating a sense of luxurious simplicity that somehow matched my personality perfectly. Warm earth tones accented the neutral walls, adding to the welcoming atmosphere, while subtle pops of color in the decor prevented it from feeling stark or impersonal.
It was home. But to my shock, I suddenly realized the place had been missing something all this time. I hadn’t known it wasn’t complete until now. As Poppy stood beside me, it filled with warmth and beauty.
She followed me into the spacious living room, and her lips parted as her eyes darted appreciatively over the comfortable yet refined furnishings, from the leather couches to the meticulously arranged shelves displaying carefully selected art pieces and photographs.
“Wow.” She turned to face me with a shy smile. “This is beautiful.”
“Thanks. I’m really glad you like it.” I guided her toward the small bar in the corner, reaching for a glass and pouring her some wine. The crimson liquid swirled gently as I handed it to her, watching as her delicate fingers wrapped around the stem. She took a small sip, her eyes never leaving mine, anticipation and curiosity mingling in their depths.
“Let me give you a quick tour.”
The air between us grew charged again with something heavy and unspoken.
