He rolls to the side, hauling my body with him until I’m pinned against his massive frame. He drapes a heavy, tattooed arm over my stomach, his hand splayed wide in a gesture of absolute ownership over the life growing inside.
"A boy," he says decisively, eyes closing.
I smile, snuggling into his chest. "Or a girl."
"Doesn't matter," he mumbles, sleep already pulling at him. "As long as they have your eyes. And my temper."
"We’re doomed if they’ve got your temper, Austin."
He chuckles, a low rumble against my back. "The club will protect them. I will protect them. No one touches what’s mine."
I look out at the mountains turning purple in the twilight. The eastern cliffs are silent, and the town of Pine Valley winds down below us. The world is full of noise and danger, but in here, in this house built on a foundation of obsession and second chances, everything finally feels quiet.
I place my hand over his on my stomach.
"I love you, Austin."
He kisses the back of my neck, grip tightening just enough to remind me.
"I breathe for you, Courtney. Only you."
The End
Dear precious reader, thank you so much for readingWrecked by the Vice President!
The rumble of Austin’s Harley used to signify a world of danger, but now it’s the heartbeat of the home he rebuilt for you with his own two hands. Feel the heat rise as the Vice President claims his wife on the kitchen counter, desperate to mark her as his and fill their mountain fortress with a new generation of Gunnars.
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P.S. If you enjoyed Austin’s possessive protection, then I think you’ll enjoyCorrupted by the Sergeanttoo! Shane is a silent, tattooed beast of a single dad who isn't looking for love—until he decides his new nanny belongs strictly to him. Swipe to the next page for a sneak peek…
CORRUPTED BY THE SERGEANT (PREVIEW)
The single dad sergeant is shirtless and terrifying.
He just claimed me in front of the whole club.
The ad said "temporary nanny," not "live-in girl for a tattooed beast."
Shane Gunnar is the storm I can’t escape.
His daughter is sunshine, but Shane is pure, rigid power.
When a stranger flirts with me, the room turns to ice.
Shane hauls me against his leather cut and tells everyone I’m his girl now.
He presses his patch to my skin and growls that it’s never coming off.
The job was supposed to be temporary.
How do I walk away when the Sergeant at Arms has already branded me as his?
BIANCA
The GPS on my phone died ten minutes ago, right around the time the paved road turned into a rutted, gravel track that looked less like a driveway and more like a tear in the earth. My little hatchback, a bright yellow beetle that fit perfectly in the city’s concrete grid, rattles like a tin can full of nails.
