Page 52 of Nicolette

I scooped up Dice and carried him over to the couch, settling into a spot, but it seemed Rambler had other thoughts on that. He grabbed my legs and slid me over to where he was sitting on the chaise part of the sectional, tucking me against his side. Without saying a word about his actions, he grabbed the remote and turned on his giant flat-screen television. Now that we weren’t moving anymore, Dice sprawled across my lap, rubbing himself all over me until he got comfortable. The deadliest man in the whole of the Savage Pride was acting like a kitten, and I was eating it up.

A leopard came bounding up on the couch, letting out a yowl before jumping onto the back and stretching out. His head was resting against my arm as his body was draped over the cushions, his tail flicking absently.

“Looks like it’s going to be up to you and me,” I mentioned to Rambler.

He glanced at Circus and Dice for a moment, then back to the screen. “They wouldn’t still be hanging out if it wasn’t for you being here. Those two would be off, causing trouble somewhere in the city until they got bored and went to bed. The twins would be spending their weekend watching you and hanging out at the Lucky Shot. Nine and I deal with enough bullshit through the day that having the night to ourselves is more than welcome. These guys are younger than us, which also plays a role in things.”

“How old are you?” I asked, not really having considered that what age he looked and how old he really was could be vastly different.

“Old enough,” he answered without looking at me.

I nudged him. “Look, I get it… to you, I’m probably super young at twenty-seven, but I feel like once you’re a Supe, it doesn’t really matter the same. I mean, I could live to be two hundred. If we held that into account, I’d be fucking jail bait to a majority of people I’ve slept with.”

At that statement, there was a sudden stereo effect of snarls that echoed around me. Confused, I looked around at all of them and the disgruntled looks I got from all five men.

“What?” I asked.

“Nic, think about how you feel when a woman that’s not you so much as winks at us,” Rambler said with a raised brow. “Now, how do you think we feel hearing you mention sleeping with other people?”

My mouth popped open in an O as understanding dawned on me. “Okay, noted, because if you started talking about someone you fucked I might punch you in the dick. However, that still doesn’t tell me how old you are.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Fifty-three.”

“Seriously, you’re freaking out about being in your fifties? Bro, you can live to be two hundred. That’s like someone at twenty-five saying they’re so old. Stop acting like such a human, would yah?” I teased.

Marco joined us, plopping on the couch, keeping Circus between us with a large bowl of popcorn. “Then you’d have no issues with a certain leopard being sixty even though he acts like he’s twelve.” Circus whipped him in the face with his tail as he snarled at the comment. “Oh, come on, are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

Circus growled as he moved a little further away from Marco to snuggle with me.

“What about you two? Don’t tell me you’re actually eighty but pretending to be younger to get the ladies,” I joked.

“Nah, before you, we were the youngest of the group at thirty-four,” Polo said, setting down a tray of drinks and handing me a soda. “Dice is in his forties. No one knows the exact number, putting him in the middle of all of us.”

“Huh, who knew I had a thing for older men.” I giggled.

“Hey, now, don’t be calling me an old man,” Marco said, tossing popcorn at me.

I just smiled and popped the kernels in my mouth, munching happily as Rambler clicked on a movie. It was an epic action film with lots of things being blown up, car chases, and gun fights ending with the man getting his woman.

When it was over, we all went our separate ways, and I used my key to get into Nine’s place. It was slightly more picked up with certain things moved or organized to create a more appealing space. Truly it was a sweet gesture, but I hadn’t minded his bachelor pad style.

Stripping out of my clothes until I was just in my undies, I crawled into bed with Nine.

I pulled the covers up and curled around a pillow, letting out a sigh, which was quickly followed by a squeak as an arm wrapped around my middle and pulled me against his body. Nuzzling his face into the back of my neck, he licked his mark before starting to purr as he tossed a leg over my hip. While I would normally feel like this was complete overkill, smothering me to death, instead, I’d never felt more content. My lioness was basking in the glow of our mate doting on us even in his sleep and rumbled her own purr in return.

Moments like this showed me there was no other truth than we were fated for each other. I shouldn’t feel this safe, cared for, and trust that he was never going to leave me even if my doubt threatened he would. Security in my environment and the person I was with was a rare experience, and I hated that it was a product of the life I’d lived so far.

Dice had been right. I didn’t feel like I deserved this, but maybe over time, that would change, and I’d be able to accept this new life of mine. Only time would tell, and apparently, now I had a fair amount of it.

Chapter 21

Rambler

Sleep didn’t come as quickly as I’d hoped it would. That was the way of things when you had something you were looking forward to. Time crawled by as I went through all the ideas I had for tomorrow with Nic. I didn’t want it to just be breakfast at the diner. I wanted more time with Nicolette. The more I learned about her, the more I realized how much depth there was to discover. Hearing Nic say she didn’t know what she liked or wanted out of life made me start thinking of ways to share experiences that she could learn that about herself.

Finally, when it was a reasonable time to get up, I showered, trimmed my beard, making sure it looked its best and styled my hair. Pausing, I realized that the very thing she’d pointed out last night was what I was doing now. Of course, the guys had always teased me about how my place was set up. I wanted a homie place to live, one that felt warm and inviting, so shoot me. They’re the ones who came over and hung out randomly because it was put together so nicely. No one needed to realize I did it because my childhood had been full of chaos with a mother who had more moods than a Rubik’s cube. They constantly shifted depending on what she drank, when, and how much at any given time.

Someone would call protective services on her, and I’d get taken away. Then she’d clean up long enough for them to feel they could send me back, and the cycle would start again. The drunk couldn’t lose her meal ticket, and with me out of the house, the government wasn’t going to pay her. What were a few weeks sober, checking in with the clinic to get her five hundred dollars a week to make sure I was fed and taken care of? Not that I ever saw a penny of that until people started to get nosey, then she’d make sure I got new clothes, shoes, and things, so the questions stopped.