Faye laughs at that. “As the president’s old lady, I take care of all my guys. I think half of them already love you, and I hope you stick around. It’s good to have a woman to spar with, one who can take my hits and return them full force.”
I smirk. “Women bonding over violence, what a great pair we are.”
“Biker women, baby, we have to be tough,” she says. “If we’re not, we end up being treated like her.” She cocks a thumb at Jill, still knocking on Arrow’s door.
“Fuck off!” I hear him bellow.
Faye and I cringe.
Jill starts crying.
Just my first official day in the biker clubhouse.
ARROW paces the game room of the clubhouse, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I should be there with them.”
“Why aren’t you?” I ask, lifting the pool cue off the table after playing my shot.
He scoffs. “I’m not letting history repeat itself.”
He downs some Scotch. I almost want to tell him that if anything did happen right now, he’d be too drunk to do anything about it.
Instead, I bite my tongue.
Blade, one of the prospects, walks in and whispers something to Arrow, who nods. I haven’t really spoken to any of the three prospects, and they don’t seem too eager to get to know me either.
“Hello, Blade,” I say, trying to be friendly.
Blade looks to Arrow quickly, before nodding his head at me. “Anna.”
Arrow narrows his eyes on him. “Don’t you have work to do?”
I scowl at Arrow and speak as soon as Blade leaves the room. “You don’t have to be so rude.”
His answer is to drink some more.
Jill and Allie walk in, their own drinks in their hands, and stand on either side of Arrow. I don’t take my eyes off Allie, who I can tell is a little tipsy. But when she puts her hand on Arrow’s chest, I’ve had enough. I look at Arrow, and it’s him I speak to. “Get that whore’s hand off your chest right now, Arrow, before I break it.”
He glances down as if only just realizing Allie is touching him, then quickly shrugs off her hand. “The fuck,” he rumbles. “If you think I would ever touch a brother’s woman, you don’t fuckin’ know me at all. Now get out of here!” He looks at Jill and sneers, his upper lip curling. “Both of you.”
I swallow hard as they leave, then step forward to make my exit.
“Stay,” he demands, not even bothering to look at me.
He wants me to stay, by asking me like that and in that tone?
Riiiggghhht.
I storm past him and into my room. I’m about to close the door when he pushes himself inside. “You don’t know how to listen, do you?”
“I listen just fine, thank you. I just don’t see why the hell I have to listen to you. Now, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed, so I’m asking you kindly to fuck off.”
He blinks at me, and then I see his lip twitch.
It pisses me off even more.
“I really don’t see what’s so amusing,” I say, sitting on my bed and glaring up at him. Instead of storming out of my room as I’d hoped, he sits on the floor by my feet. “And do you talk to all women like that?”
I didn’t even like Allie or Jill, but still.
“Most women don’t talk back to me. I guess it amuses me that you do it at every turn,” he replies, pausing. “And I’d never talk to you like that, Anna, so no, I don’t talk to all women like that.”
He leans his head back on the mattress, and I can’t help but let my hand reach out and feel his hair. When he moans, I massage his scalp and continue to run my fingers through his thick, silky hair.
“Feels so good,” he says quietly, followed by a contented sigh. “What is it about you?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I mutter, continuing my administrations. “How much longer am I stuck here with you?”
“I’m not that bad,” he says, reaching his hand out and casually resting it on my thigh. My body tingles with just that simple touch, and I both want and don’t want him to reach his hand up higher.
“You’re not that good either,” I say, remembering our previous conversation.
“No, I guess I’m not. Tonight I will be though.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but when he gets up and lifts my blanket, sliding under my sheets, my eyes widen. “You can’t sleep here.”
He ignores me, trying to get comfortable. When he sits up and pulls off his T-shirt, my mouth waters and I decide that maybe he can sleep here. His body is perfectly cut and defined, and I get a flash of ripped abs before he pulls the sheet up to cover himself. I feel my nipples pebble, unable to get that image out of my head.
Holy shit, he’s a fine specimen.
“You going to sleep or just stand there with your mouth open all night? If you stay like that I might get ideas that will get both of us into shit,” he says in a husky voice. Is that his sex voice? Because I could get on board with that. I head to the bathroom, shower and brush my teeth, then change into my pajamas. When I walk back into the room Arrow is still awake and watching me. Am I really going to sleep next to him? My feet take me to the other side of the bed. I lift up the blanket and slide in next to him.
I guess that’s a yes.
“Your feet are fuckin’ cold,” he complains, but pulls me closer, into the safety of his arms. How am I supposed to sleep, being pressed up against him like this? His whole body is rock-hard, steel against my softness. I feel protected. Swallowed by his big body, wrapped in his strength.
I also feel more turned on than I ever remember feeling.
“Arrow?” I whisper.
“Sleep,” he replies, kissing the back of my head.
For once, I do as he says.
* * *
I wake up feeling warm and safe. When I open my eyes, the first things I see are two sleepy, smiling brown eyes staring at me.
I almost scream, quickly lifting my head up. “Arrow, what the hell?”
He smirks. “You look so cute when you sleep. And the little snoring sounds you make are—”
“I do not snore!” I reply indignantly, scooting away from him on the bed. I can see that he’s already had a shower: his hair is damp and I can smell his clean scent from here.
He pulls me back, right up against his body. “You do.”
“I don’t.”
“Darlin’,” he says, smiling. “You do.”
“Prove it,” I demand, sounding smug.
My eyes widen in horror as he says, “Okay,” and grabs his phone from the side table.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I groan, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow.
But he did.
I hear a soft snoring noise playing through the phone.
I turn my head to the side to look at him, giving him the dirtiest look I can fathom. “You just crossed a line.”
He laughs, eyes crinkling. “I wasn’t going to show anyone.”
“Not the point,” I grit out, trying to hide my embarrassment. Who wants to actually hear themselves snoring?
There is no way to make that shit cute.
Someone please kill me now.
“That is the point. You can trust me; I just wanted to annoy you a little. See, I’ll delete it,” he says, unable to hide a grin.
I go to grab the phone off him to delete it myself but instead end up pinned under him. Before I know what he’s about to do, before I can think of the consequences, his mouth is on mine, firm and demanding.
And perfect.
Better than I had imagined, and trust me, I had imagined a lot.
His lips are full and soft and his tongue knows exactly what it’s doing as it licks my own, tasting me. He tastes delicious, like strawberry candy.
It’s not just a kiss, it’s the kiss.
And I lose myself in it.
My arms wrap around his neck as I put my all into the kiss, showing him without words how much I’ve wanted him.