Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
After another beat of silence, he murmured, “That’s why you looked into it. Even when you knew it might put a target on your back.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to answer.
His fingertips brushed over mine where they gripped the armrest. The contact was fleeting, barely there, but it sent butterflies swirling in my belly.
I lifted my head to look at him. He must have moved while I was talking because we were closer than I realized, only inches apart.
Something about his quiet, unshakable presence wrapped around me like a promise.
I appreciated the safety he offered. The strength he wore like a second skin.
But more than that, I just wanted him.
For the first time in my life, I was interested in a man. Actually craved his touch.
I had no idea yet what, if anything, I was going to do about it. With the situation I had stumbled across, the timing was awful. But the urge not to let that matter was growing.
6
SAVAGE
The more I learned about Tamara, the more I liked and respected her. And fuck, I wanted her.
I enjoyed seeing her at ease with me, so I was glad she hadn’t realized I was two seconds from bending her over the table and filling her deep enough that she wouldn’t remember a world before me.
My control was ready to break. Needing a distraction, I offered to give her a tour of the compound.
As we walked outside, I couldn’t stop staring at her. She looked like something out of my dreams with the way her blond curls caught the late morning light as we walked the path around the main compound. I didn’t give her a full tour. Just enough to help her get her bearings and satisfy her curiosity, while keeping her far the hell away from places she didn’t need to know about.
I pointed out the gun range, a building that Iron Shield’s private ops team sometimes used for training, and the back gate that led to the trails through the trees.
She didn’t ask about the rest of the land that curved into the tree line, where a small building sat tucked behind brush and a natural slope. A spot on our property that was the farthest from any of the businesses, homes, and clubhouse while still being within the compound’s security walls. A place we called “The Room,” a name as dismissive as its exterior.
From the outside, it looked like a utility shed or maybe an equipment storage unit. But the interior had four rooms—a lounging area of sorts, a cell, an interrogation hold, and a space that had a cache of weapons and tools. Ones that might be needed to aid us in gaining what we wanted. Like answers. Or just the sound of our enemy’s screams.
I didn’t bring it up. Didn’t plan to unless she ever needed to know what kind of things I’d do to keep her safe. And I’d do every single one of them without blinking.
We returned to the clubhouse, and I showed her the gym and a few other places she could freely go before heading to the garage where we worked on our bikes. She paused, watching one of the prospects shine up a custom rebuild like it was a damn Mona Lisa. Her head tilted slightly, and I caught a soft smile.
I loved that she liked this place. I wanted her rooted in it. Pregnant. Tethered. The kind of belonging that came with sex, bonds, and a future.
Since she’d never been to Iron Inkworks, which was only two blocks away from our front gate, I took her there as well. Watching her light up at the amazing work from our artists had me already planning the ink I was gonna talk her into one day. I’d have my name all over her sexy body if she let me.
Back at the compound, I ended the tour at the playground Fox had built after Dahlia had their twins. Tamara’s eyes lit up, and her plump lips stretched into a smile. She was fucking gorgeous. But she was everything when she murmured something about hoping her kids had a place like this to play someday.
We wandered into the kitchen to grab some lunch. While we ate, she asked me a few questions about the club and the town—from our perspective since she’d grown up on the outskirts. I answered them honestly, even if I wasn’t exactly verbose.
Afterward, she turned to me with those cornflower-blue eyes and said, “I’ve taken up enough of your time. You probably need to get some work done.”
“Nothin’ I’d rather be doing, baby.”
Tamara smiled, but shook her head as if she didn’t believe my statement. Then she shrugged. “I need to update my résumé anyway. And start applying for other jobs.”
I stared at her.
She blinked.
I kept staring.
She gave me a slow, sassy smile. “You get the need for a job, right? Since you have one? Manager of the bar and all that?”