“The Kings are your family now, Carys, and family is everything.”
The words were warm, but the message was clear.
“Thank you, Prowler, and I agree, family is everything, and I would never be disloyal or dishonor that.”
He gave her a smile; she was sure it was the first time she’d seen it aimed at her.
“I don’t doubt it. Welcome.”
Monster wanted her. The club wanted her.
She.
Was.
Wanted.
It was intoxicating.
“Why is hers different from Taylor’s?” Ghoul interrupted her thoughts.
Carys looked between the two and didn’t notice much different except the names.
“Because she’s a vegetarian, dick face.”
Denim.
Hers was denim, and Taylor’s was leather.
“So is that one, kinda,” Ghoul shouted.
Taylor whispered, “Mine isn’t real leather, but don’t tell the guys.”
Monster cared enough to not give her leather.
No one, except her mother, had ever been so in tune with her and thoughtful.
She turned to Monster. He was grinning shyly, like he wasn’t sure if the gesture mattered or not.
Oh, it did, and she was going to show her appreciation.
She didn’t need words; it was time for action. She grabbed one side of his cut and turned, dragging him toward their room.
There was a whole lot of whooping and hollering.
Monster kicked the door closed behind them. Carys slid his cut off his shoulders and placed it on the dresser, doing the same with hers.
“Strip,” she ordered him as she pulled her clothes off as fast as she could too.
“Bossy. I like it.”
She watched him strip, relishing every inch as he exposed himself.
Once he was naked, he reached around her, grabbing her cut off the dresser.
Without saying anything, he slipped it back over her shoulders. When the denim brushed her nipples, she groaned.
“Fuck, babe, if I’d known remembering you’re a vegetarian got you this turned on, I’d whisper names of vegetables to you ten times a day.”
