“Fuck, woman,” I mumbled, the cotton of my mask really beginning to piss me off.
She chuckled and her hand stopped trailing downward, instead lying flat over my taut stomach.
I was hungry—starving, even. I’d make us something to eat. Fuck, what did I even have for her to eat? All I had was boxes of mac and cheese, ramen noodles, and whiskey. Not exactly a diet of healthy living.
Her body shifted, her breasts pressing against me. Fuck, that felt good. Everything about this felt good. Everything aboutherfelt good. Warm and right and fucking good. And the way she couldn’t stop touching me? It was obvious that this felt right for her too.
“So what now?” she asked, her voice filling the silence that hung between us and squashing all thoughts of breakfast and fucking her mouth again.
Because yeah, what now?
Now I needed to take a digit of hers and drop her back off with Daddy. That was what the fuck now.
She must have sensed how I tensed at the question, and I let her shift in my arms to look up at me. I glanced down at her, her golden eyes holding me momentarily hostage before I tore my gaze away.
I pushed her away and sat up. “Now it’s time to go home, Penny.”
I waited for her to look hurt, to cry and ask to stay with me. But it never came. Her head stayed up, her shoulders back, and she nodded. I loved that about her. Any other woman would have crumbled and begged for more from a man, but not her. Woman was too smart and too proud. She knew how this would end just as much as I did.
It was over; whatever it had been, it was all over now.
Time to get back to reality.
Time to slice and dice this bitch and get back to my fuckin’ club.
That was why she hadn’t been able to keep her hands to herself; because she knew once it was over, it was time to deal with the reality of the situation. Because prey and predator could never be more than that.
“Penny…” I started but wasn’t sure how to finish. Shit, I wasn’t even sure what to say.
Her mouth lifted fractionally, the miniscule movement drawing my attention back to her mouth. Fuck, I really wanted to kiss her again.
“It’s fine. No need to explain.” She shifted uncomfortably and looked down.
I nodded and dragged a hand down my naked chest before sighing. “It is what it is, right.”
“Right,” she agreed, looking back up at me.
The sick part of me wanted to see hurt in her eyes, but the human side of me was glad when she gave me nothing. I stood up, feeling her heated stare on my naked ass. I looked back over my shoulder with a grin that she couldn’t see because of my mask, realizing my mistake immediately as her golden eyes took in my clubs’ tattoo covering the entirety of my back.
She looked away quickly, but it was too late; she’d seen it.
I’d never fucked up.
Not once.
I was always careful; no club colors, no patches, nothing that anyone could recognize as being part of the Devil’s Highwaymen.
I was a soldier for my club and mistakes couldn’t afford to be made. They could put me, my club, and my brothers in danger.
“Penny,” I growled and she shook her head, refusing to acknowledge what we both knew. “Penny,” I said again and this time she looked at me. Her gaze going from my face to my tattoo. Her eyes taking in every intricate line that Sketch had given me when I’d patched in. Every drag of that needle across my skin, bleeding away my past life and giving birth to my new one.
I’d been a boy before the club, fascinated with blood and death, pain and torture. Then I’d joined the Highwaymen and I’d grown into a man loving all those same things, but my tastes had darkened further.
And now?
Now after Penny?
What the fuck was I now?
