He was still inside of me, semi-erect now, but he kept me close. He buried his face in the crook of my neck again, then moved to drop a quick kiss on my bare shoulder before lifting his head to reply, “Two weeks after we began dating, I put a tracker on your truck.”
Gasping, I attempted to turn and look at him, but he held me firmly.
“The day after we returned from Vegas as man and wife, I had KC put one on your phone.”
Now, I pushed against him with more effort. I was a thick girly, always had been and loved every one of my curves. The stretch marks not so much. But Fury was much taller than my five-foot-nine-inches and his broad, dense build outweighed me by at least sixty pounds. There was no doubt he was stronger and could’ve easily continued to hold me still, but his grip slackened, and I rolled onto my back to glare up at him.
“You’ve been tracking my truck?” My brow furrowed. “And, that morning, when we were at your place, and KC dropped by, that wasn’t a coincidence like he said. He wasn’t just there to check on you since you’d been out of town, you told him to comeover so he could put a tracker on my phone?” I understood every word I’d just spoken sounded creepy, overbearing, and scary as hell. I should be offended, pissed the fuck off, or even afraid. But I was none of those things.
He brushed the back of his fingers over my jaw, up to my temple, then down again until he cupped my chin. “I protect what’s mine,” he said solemnly. “And you’ve been mine since the very beginning, Dakota. You will always be mine and I will always know where you are. I will always keep you safe. Even if that means, guards following you everywhere you go, stay posted outside of your house, or me tracking your every step. Hell, if necessary, I’d buy more of the land near the plant and build you a new office there, so you’d be closer to me during working hours. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you, absolutely nothing.”
I believed every word he’d just spoken and felt unnervingly aroused by them. Reaching up to clasp a hand around his wrist, I rubbed my fingers softly over the spot where his pulse thumped. It matched the rhythmic beating of my heart, causing a slow smile to touch my lips.
“Or you could’ve just called me, and I would’ve told you that I was fine. Spending time with my cousins was what I needed right now.”
“And that’s okay, baby. I want you to have your little girls’ trips and spa days and those monthly shopping sprees that you and Shawna seem to need every month.”
The shopping sprees that he so graciously funded and I happily accepted. “It’s everyothermonth, thank you very much.” I grinned because although my main bank account was stacked, my businesses were lucrative and my seven-figure trust fund was still intact, I thoroughly enjoyed being spoiled by my man. Even if I was the only one who knew he was spoiling me.
He chuckled, and I marveled at how much I loved that sound. Fury was a hard man. He was raised to be a leader, to command respect on the streets and in every line of business the club was in. He surrounded himself with killers, and did business with ruthless mob bosses, cartel leaders, mercenaries and in some very dark corners, government agencies. While Fabian had a softer side, I was certain he only showed me and probably his younger sister although I’d only seen them interact on a couple of occasions—he was generous and supportive, even goofy at times. I loved both sides of him.
“I’m serious, love,” he said, after shifting so that he was on his back and I was tucked under his arm. “This secrecy shit is over. I want my ring on your finger all day every day. I want us in the same bed every night … at your house, at my house, or hell I’ll just build us a new house. I just cannot do another day without you.”
“You’ve had me,” I told him, firm in that truth. “Since day one, you’ve had me, Fabian. I couldn’t deny that even if I wanted to.”
“You know what I mean. I want all of you, out in the open. And that’s not up for negotiation. Not anymore.”
When I hesitated to speak, he simply kissed the top of my head and said, “Go to sleep. In a few hours, you have to show me around this bed and breakfast that I didn’t know you owned, and this island that I’ve never been to before.”
There was finality to his words. A testament to his bossy nature, and, shit, I liked it. I would never call myself the submissive type, but damn if there wasn’t something about the way Fabian gave me directives that turned me on. Everything about this man aroused me and drew me to him in a way I’d never imagined experiencing. He held my heart, and tonight, or rather the very early morning, I would relish his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, the steady rhythm of hisheartbeat beneath my palm and the joy he sparked inside of my tumultuous soul.
CHAPTER 5
DAKOTA
“Dakota Janiece Donovan!”
I shot straight up in the bed at the sound of her voice, only to be knocked back down by Fabian’s big arm as he blocked me and pointed his gun at Mo.
“Shit!” Mo gasped, her arms going up in surrender.
“Wait! She’s my cousin,” I told Fabian when I was upright again.
“Ummm, Kodi, girl, who the hell is this and why does he sleep with a gun?” Mo, wearing one of her many Janet Jackson-tour T-shirts, bright green aloe eye masks and an equally as bright hot pink bonnet stood with wide eyes at the end of the bed.
“Fuck.” Fabian frowned and lowered his arm.
“I can explain.” I started to get out of the bed, then realized I was naked and yanked the sheet up to my chest. Not that Mo had never seen me naked. All the sleepovers we’d had growing up and even as adults on trips or whatever, none of us had any modesty in that regard.
This morning’s nudity felt different though. Especially when the man beside me was also commando beneath the butter yellow sheet.
“But you’renotexplaining,” Mo replied. She lowered her arms slowly, gaze narrowed at Fabian. “And I really need to hear this explanation, or I’m gonna make assumptions that might carry my ass back down the hall to my room where I’ve got my own gun.”
And she definitely did have a gun in her purse. A SIG 380, which was a more compact version of the 9mm I carried. We’d bought them together and never went anywhere without them. Well, except for when we were staying at a B&B on a quaint island and wandering into each other’s room at the crack of dawn.
“I’m her husband,” Fabian said. “You don’t knock?” He put the safety back on his gun, then returned it under the pillow.
I hadn’t seen him stash it there last night but wasn’t at all surprised since mine was under the pillow behind me as well.
