As Griffin moved inside of her, Natasha knew something was off. In fact, she knew it from the moment he walked into the room, all tired and worn, immediately walking over to collapse on the bed and into her arms. She liked him there. It had been incredibly nice, but she wished that he had not crawled into her arms so incredibly tense.

 

In spite of her original vow to go back to Austin at the first opportunity, Griffin had absolutely thrown a wrench into that. However, most of it was her fault. She could have left whenever she wanted. It was not as though the Los Diablos were above the law outside of the confines of Brazos.

 

Yet, there was something about what was happening, the murder of her father and the boldness of the Los Diablos that made her want to stay and figure it all out. There was a certain sort of fascination that kept her there, even more than the allure of Griffin.

 

Although she had to admit, Griffin definitely helped.

 

Either way, she had to see it to the end, and there was something very unsettling about how it would end, thanks to how tense Griffin was.

 

He had entered the room carrying the tension in his shoulders, and she could feel it inside of him like a livewire while he lay there, wrapping his arms around her. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she already knew what was wrong. What else could it be? Ten minutes passed—but only the atmosphere began to change.

 

With his head level with her breasts, he began to move against her, kissing the tops of her breasts that peeked through her tank top, moving his way up her neck. At first she was not sure if she wanted to go through with it, but as he made his way to her mouth, she found herself kissing him back with mounting passion. He ignited desire inside of her with a single kiss, and soon she was tearing at his shirt. He had pulled down her top to take her breasts in his mouth, and she moaned in the back of her throat with appreciation.

 

Distantly, she realized that their clothing had been hastily shoved aside, and her hands ran over the tight, hard muscles in his arms and across his chest. He handled her with restraint, as though he was afraid that he would tear through her with the intensity of his lust. His slowness began to drive her mad. She wanted him to take her, but he wouldn’t. Slowly, his fingers slipped down between her legs, working inside of her with that same deliberate tenderness. Her hips moved to match his rhythm, and she could feel the burning begin to grow inside of her.

 

Not one to be passive, she moved her own hands down to feel the hard length of him, gently stroking the velvety softness that was still so hard. She imagined it filling her, pounding into her, and the desire built and built until she was gasping in his arms.

 

“Please,” she whispered. “Please give it to me.”

 

He wouldn’t. Instead, with his same shaking intensity, he kissed down her naked body, positioning himself between her legs until he reached that spot, that utterly delicious spot that made her legs shake as she cried out to God.

 

She rode the orgasm as it burst inside of her, bucking her hips and grabbing at his thick black hair. He paused, as she shuddered—until the last spasms of pleasure ripped through her. Then he moved back up to position his hardness against her wet lips. She looked up at him and could see the tension, the fear, and the worry. She watched it momentarily melt away as he entered her, causing her to gasp again.

 

He moved inside of her slowly, letting out a moan of his own, until he could not hold back any longer. His movements went harder, choppier, full of his own desire as it mixed with hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to kiss her again. His tongue worked his way into her mouth, caressing against her own tongue. She could still feel that terrible tension in his arms, the fear still lived inside of him, but she did not care. She wrapped her legs around his waist and spurned him on as he went deeper and deeper.

 

They both climaxed at the same time, and she felt the tension leave him as he did, letting out a strangled cry. She held him closely, as he shivered in her arms. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek, the ragged breathing of a man who had taken his pleasure.

 

They lay together for what seemed like hours—until Natasha thought that perhaps he had fallen asleep. It was only then that he lifted his head, placed a kiss on her cheek, and withdrew from her. She let out a little sound of loss as he left her and rolled onto his side beside her. Almost automatically, she moved towards him, laying her head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her.

 

“So,” she said quietly. “Tomorrow?”

 

She felt the tension return and almost cursed herself for even saying anything, until she remembered that she was in this, too, and deserved to know everything that was happening. Griffin let out a long breath.

 

“Yes, it is happening tomorrow.”

 

She sat up, her long, blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. She had so much to say, but suddenly felt very vulnerable saying it. She looked over at him. His eyes were closed, but she could tell that he was still awake.

 

“Would it be foolish of me to tell you to be careful?”

 

One eye opened. “No, I mean, I was planning on not being careful, so I guess now I have to rethink that.”

 

Annoyance snapped through her. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

 

“Well, this is not my first rodeo, sweetheart. I know what I am doing.”

 

“I don’t care if you do. This is all relatively new to me, and I wish you’d get that.”

 

Griffin pulled her back down beside him, wrapping a strong arm around her and holding her close. He placed a little kiss on the top of her head, and she felt a little calmer, but not by much.

 

“I am sorry,” he said after they lay in silence for a while. “I sometimes forget that you are not an old hand at this. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are kind of a natural.”

 

Natasha sneered. “There is a wrong way to take that?”

 

“Given the fact that you are staunchly against joining the club, I figured you would take it the wrong way.”

 

Griffin was not wrong, and it gave Natasha pause. She did not want to join the club, why would she? After so many years of watching it destroy her family, after the short period of time she had actually spent with Griffin, how could she simply declare her allegiance to the club so quickly? She moved away from him again, propping herself up on one elbow to take a look at his face. It seemed serene now—although she knew that there was still tension bubbling under the surface.

 

“How are you so sure?” she asked, startling herself with the heaviness of the question. She had not wanted to ask it, not yet, but every time they spoke about this, it came to the forefront of her mind again.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking up at her. He seemed almost innocent in the dim light of the cheap hotel lamp. She brushed a lock of hair off of his forehead with surprising tenderness, always a little afraid to do so for fear that the intimacy might become too much.

 

“You want me to join in, and you know what that means.”

 

“And what does that mean?”

 

“I’ll be your Old Lady. I’ll basically belong to you. You are okay with that?”

 

Griffin looked confused as he studied her face. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

 

She gave a little laugh at that, brushing her hair out of her eyes and over one shoulder. How could she adequately explain what she meant without insulting him?

 

Oh, who was she kidding? Griffin was not fragile. She was pretty sure that she could say whatever she wanted and it would barely hit.

 

“Well, I gathered that you weren’t really the girlfriend type before I came along.”

 

Griffin laughed, which surprised Natasha a lot more than she thought it would.

 

“No, I really wasn’t, but you wouldn’t be my girlfriend.”

 

Natasha bit back some outrage. What did he mean by that? Would she be expected to be bound to him while he went out and slept with whatever girl struck his fancy? Did he really think that sort of thing was going to fly with her? If that was the case, he definitely had no idea about who she was and what she was about. She was not some passive little princess who was going to sit by and let him come and go as he pleased. She was strong and smart, and she deserved his respect.

 

She was about to open her mouth and explain all of this to him, but he had already caught her look of outrage and chuckled a bit.

 

“It is more than that,” he explained. “An Old Lady rides with you. She’s it. She’s not just some girlfriend that you call up whenever you feel like it. She’s a partner. She’s smart; she on point; she won’t take shit from anyone, and I wouldn’t let anyone give her any shit. It is just understood.”

 

“So you wouldn’t go around and sleep with other girls?”

 

Griffin laughed harder. “Why would I? I have everything I need right here.”

 

He grabbed at her thigh and kissed at her neck, and Natasha found that she was far more relieved at this than she should have been. For a person who wanted to run away from all this, she was pretty damn surprised to find a warmth growing in her chest at the thought of being his and only his, while he’d be hers and only hers.

 

“You seem so sure,” she said, voicing the final concern that she had.

 

“I am, but I am not. This scares the shit out of me, but I’ve never met any girl like you.”

 

The vulnerable part in her heart grew again, and she had to look away from him to avoid a blush setting her cheeks alight. He pulled her back down, and she nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder. They slept this way. It was the first time they had ever literally slept together since the moment they met.

 

Natasha could not help but feel the fear begin to creep in at the notion of what tomorrow would bring, but as he lay next to her, his deep even breathing matching her own, she realized it was a future she could face.

 

***

 

The next morning, Griffin gave her a gun.

 

“I don’t need that,” she said, moving away from it as though it were some sort of poisonous insect.

 

It had been a perfectly lovely morning. The two lovers had woken up and looked at each other as though surprised to still be together. Golden Texas light streamed in through the window, pooling across the sheets that wrapped the two of them up. They made love again in the morning light, and this time it was intense, as though saying good-bye, even though neither of them wanted to say it out loud. Natasha did not want to be nervous about it; she definitely did not want to express that anyway. When they had finished, Griffin had taken a quick shower and then immediately presented her with the gun.

 

“You do need it,” he insisted. “We’re going in on a reckless mission; I don’t want to have to worry about you while I am out there.”

 

“You won’t have to,” she replied.

 

“I know I won’t, because I am giving you a gun.”

 

Natasha was not a stranger to guns, of course she wasn’t; she lived in Texas. She had gone to the firing range to learn how to protect herself the day she turned eighteen, so she had some idea of how to use one. It was a small thing, unassuming, and so much heavier than it looked as she picked it up. The weight of it made the danger a lot more real to her, which was saying something given the state of the last few days she’d had.

 

“It is just admitting that something wrong might happen,” Natasha said. She did not give him the gun back, but instead walked to put it on the nightstand. Maybe she would feel better if she had something close at hand to protect herself even if she knew that it was unlikely that anyone would go after her.

 

“It is just being prepared, Natasha. Trust me, I don’t want anything to happen to you either, but I’ll feel better knowing that you are protected just in case.”

 

She nodded, accepting it, and visible relief flooded Griffin’s face. He went to Natasha’s side, taking her into his arms and holding her close.

 

“You better be careful,” she whispered fervently into his chest. “Or I swear to God I will call the cops if you don’t come back.”

 

“The cops won’t touch us here,” Griffin said, although he knew it was not the most helpful thing to say in that situation. He also was not going to beat around the bush with this sort of thing.

 

She knew in her heart that it was the case and wrapped her arms tighter around him before letting him go.

 

“I’ll be careful,” he said.

 

“That’s all I can ask for,” she replied.

 

She wanted to feel better about all of this; she wanted to feel strong as Griffin pulled her close and gave her a kiss before heading out on a potentially dangerous mission. The only thing she felt was worry, and as she sat on the bed and looked over that the gun, she prayed that she would never have to use it.