Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
"Everyone's got a code, darlin'. Mine just includes not hurting women and children." I moved past her to check the security monitors I'd installed near the door, scanning each screen carefully. All clear, but I couldn't shake the uneasiness that had followed me since Ghost told me about Flowerz. I knew the score. This life was one great big fucking hazard light. Honey… didn’t. At least, not yet. I also hadn’t locked her down and I had the sinking feeling there in lied my problem. What was I going to do if I wanted her more than she wanted me?
I felt Honey watching me as I checked the perimeter even here, in my most secure space. When I turned back to her, she'd moved to examine the Panhead again, giving me the moment I needed without comment.
"Want to learn sit on it?" I asked, nodding toward the bike.
Her smile lit something warm in my chest. "Yeah. I'd like that."
I moved around the Panhead and helped her sit, running my hand along its frame as I continued talking. "My code's pretty simple. I protect what's mine. I keep my word. And I don't allow innocent people to get hurt, especially women and kids." I glanced up at Honey, who watched me intently. "In this life, you gotta draw lines somewhere. Those are mine."
"Is that unusual?" Honey asked, her head tilted slightly. "For someone to refuse to hurt innocents. In your world, I mean."
I considered her question, appreciating that she wasn't making snap judgments. "Not the protection part. That's universal. But some MCs don't draw the same lines I do. Some are involved in trafficking. Forced prostitution." My jaw tightened at the thought. "The night I earned my name, half the club was participating in that shit. I killed thirteen men. Some of 'em had been my brothers for years."
Honey's eyes widened, but she didn't flinch. "That must have been hard. Turning on men you considered family."
Her insight caught me off guard. Most people focused on the violence of what I'd done, not the emotional cost. "Yeah," I admitted quietly. "But some lines can't be uncrossed. Once they stepped over that one I didn’t have much of a choice if I intended for that to be the hard line in the sand."
"You couldn't trust them anymore," she finished for me. "If they'd violate that moral code, what else would they do?"
I nodded, studying her with new appreciation. "Exactly. Trust is everything in an MC. Brotherhood only works if there are boundaries everyone respects."
She moved closer to the bike, her fingers tracing the curve of the fuel tank. "So when you took over as president?"
"I cleaned house. Anyone who stayed had to live by my code. No exceptions." I came around to her side of the bike. "Been that way ever since. We've done a lot of shit. Some of it bloody, some of it illegal. But we don't hurt innocents. Ever."
"That's why Wren respects you so much," Honey said. "She told me you're the reason the club takes in strays. Kids like her who had nowhere else to go."
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. "Ghost does most of that. I just don't stand in the way."
She climbed off the bike, running her hand over the seat gently. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” Her smile was soft and beautiful and I knew I could stare at her for days. “The place as well as your past.”
I moved closer to her, reaching out to take her hand in mine. Why? No clue. I only knew I needed that connection with her like I needed to breathe. My hand lingered on hers longer than necessary, her skin soft beneath my calloused fingers. The garage suddenly felt ten degrees warmer.
She looked up into my face, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. Her gaze met mine, and something shifted in the air between us. She was close enough that I could smell the faint lavender scent of her shampoo, see the flecks of gold in her amber eyes.
"Jack," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
I should have stepped back. Should have remembered why I'd brought her here to begin with, to explain the danger. Not to act on the attraction that had been building since the moment she walked into my fucking clubhouse. But the way she looked at me, like she was seeing past the patches and the nickname to the man beneath...
"This is a bad idea," I murmured, even as I moved closer.
"Probably," she agreed, but she didn't back away.
My hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing across her cheek. "Once I start, I don't know if I can stop."
Her lips parted slightly, her breath quickening. "I don't think I want you to stop."
That was all it took. The last thread of my restraint snapped, and I pulled her against me, my mouth claiming hers in a kiss that had none of the performance of our first encounter. This was real. Raw. Hungry. Desperate.