"Stop." I tip her chin up, make her look at me. "This isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."
Diesel and Tank thoroughly scout the perimeter but don’t find anything, not surprising since there’s no way whoever was out would have stuck around long enough to be caught.
“Listen, Trix can handle the bar for a while without you,” I tell her. “We need to talk.”
She searches my face for a long moment, and I see fear in her eyes. Shit. I’m probably fucking this up.
I don’t know how to do this kind of thing. I've never been good with words, and women have always only been a good time—pleasant, temporary, gone in the morning. I've never wanted to keep one before.
I guide her through the compound to my room.
The second the door closes, she turns to face me. “Did I do something wrong? Are you angry with me?”
“Angry? Naw, baby. I ain’t angry with you.” I pull her against my chest.
"Then why do we need to talk?"
I lean back enough to look down at her. Fuck, where do I even start?
I raise her chin with my index finger, forcing her to keep looking at me. "I need you to understand something about this life. About how the club works.”
"Okay."
"Enemies come with the patch. We've made our share, and those enemies don't fight fair. They look for weak spots. Pressure points." My thumb traces her cheekbone. "You became my weak spot the second I offered you shelter.”
"I don't want to be a liability to you."
"I don't give a fuck about that." My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. "What I give a fuck about is keeping you safe. And the best way to do that—to get the full protection of this club—is to make it official."
"Make what official?"
"Us."
Her eyes go wide. "Us?”
“Yeah, us.” Christ, I'm fucking this up. “I, um…I’m asking you to be my ol’ lady. Steel's calling a vote in a few days when we gather for church. If you say yes, if you agree, the club votes you in.”
She swallows hard. “Your...old lady? What exactly does that mean?"
Right, dumbass. She has no idea what you’re talking about. This is your world not hers.
“Being my ol’ lady…” I scratch the back of my neck. “It’ll mean you're mine. Officially. That I claim you in front of the whole club, that you wear my patch, that you're under Hellbound Devils protection, and that anyone who fucks with you fucks with all of us."
She's quiet for a long moment, and I can see her mind working. Processing. “Is that all? Protection, I mean. Is it only for protection?”
“No.” I take a breath. "It also means you're my woman. That you sleep in my bed and sit on the back of my bike and everyone knows you're spoken for." A growl rumbles in my chest, my fingers dig into her hips, tugging her closer. "It means I get to touch you whenever I want. Kiss you whenever I want. Fuck you every night. It means no other man puts his hands on you. Only me. You're mine and I’m yours.”
Her breath catches.
“Then, yes." The words come out barely a whisper. Then stronger, "Yes. I want to be your old lady."
Chapter 5
Wrath
"I want to be your old lady."
I take her mouth in a kiss that's full of hunger and need and promise. She melts against me, her hands fisting my shirt like she's afraid I'll disappear. I back her against the door, press my hard cock into her stomach so she can feel exactly what she does to me. She gasps, and I swallow the sound, deepening the kiss until she's clinging to my cut, making sweet, needy little noises that drive me out of my fucking mind.
