“We were talking about Raney,” I moan, somehow shoving his head and breaking the seal of his lips. His mouth makes a pop as my nipple is freed and without getting distracted again, I stomp over to my car, my boobs still on display, before reaching in and grabbing my bag. Finding my suppressors, I ignore the small rush of disappointment as I pop out a few. I swallow them before I can talk myself out of delaying my heat.
King walks behind me and pulls my shirt down. “I’ve booked you in with my artist. My name on your body is not up for negotiation. We do this, we do it properly.” He’s so serious again and turned on, his dick rubs over my ass.
“I get that,” I answer, twisting slightly so he can see my face, “But you’re the one telling your daughter that you’ve packed her bestie and have been knotting her for a long time now. Not me.”
He laughs before reaching over and grabbing my bag.
“Should I move my car?”
“Nah, I’ll do it later,” he says walking towards the cabin.
“Did you ride or drive?”
“Ride. And your ass is going on the back of my bike, Tris. I’ve been fucking wanting it there for as long as I can remember,” he says.
And I do an amazing job not tripping up the stairs considering my vision is blurred by tears pooling in my eyes at his sweetness. First a bite, then a tattoo and now me on the back of his bike; his way of telling the whole world we’re packed has my heart racing.
The low rumble of a bike coming back down the road interrupts my moment of joy. Except before I can turn around, King grabs under my chin, smooshing my lips together.
“And, killer, from the second I saw you, you were always gonna be mine. It was fate. Much like they are.”
“What?” I try to say past the mash up of my mouth.
King’s brown eyes fill with a seriousness I’m still getting used to. “Those little cunts that interrupted my time with you are your pack. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. I will absolutely gut them if they upset you for whatever reason. Just sayin’.”
He leans down and kisses me hard before leaving me staring at his retreating back.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
TRISTAN
It’s not the first time King has insisted Maverick is pack and I get it, the connection we share is tangible. To me, it is like static electricity cracking through the air. I wonder if it is the same for King as we both turn our focus on Maverick as he parks his bike. He kicks the stand down without looking, probably it’s a habit but his eyes don’t move off mine either way.
Today his hazel eyes are more olive green, like falling leaves. They’re super pretty but I can also read in them all his bottled-up emotion. He looks frustrated and trapped, maybe due in part to being back here or it might be the reason why he’s here.
“You good,” I ask, leaning over the bannister in an eerily similar pose to how King was before.
“I think so. Let me talk to King real quick and then I need to talk with you about Steel. And everything else.”
“You don’t owe me any explanation more than the one you gave me already at the fight,” I say, standing up and meeting him at the stairs. I stay on the top landing, and he’s a couple of steps lower bringing us both up to the same height. “You need a hug?”
Maverick takes a deep exhale as he wraps his arms around me, his blackberry scent so potent although over the sweet ripeness I usually pick up, his stress is more prevalent. The wayI respond to him is instinctive, my bubble-gum sweetness curls around him in my offer of support.
“I want more of these,” he says, his lips muffled as he talks and presses his face into my neck. “But we’ve got big ass problems.”
I pull away, “Like?”
“Up in town people are bunkering down.”
“Why?” I tip my head.
He bops my nose, getting closer. “Snowstorm.”
“Entirely not the right time.” I grab his hand and look at his nails, painted, which only makes him somehow even more attractive.
“Bit like you showing up in my life.” He smiles sweetly using lots of scent, reinforcing how happy that makes him. “Anyway, doesn’t change the fact that a cell is on its way. And by the sounds of it, we’ve left it too late.”
