Olin charged out of the clubhouse, letting the door slam behind him. On the couch, Johanna turned to Thorn, perplexed by the outburst. The only time she'd ever witnessed Olin blowing up and getting mad was years ago when Karla had grounded him from his motorcycle after finding pot in his room.

"What's wrong with him?" She glanced over at the pool table where Olin had been playing only moments ago.

Thorn dangled a beer bottle between his knees. "He mentioned Ashley cutting him off earlier. Maybe it dawned on him that most of the women are staying away from the clubhouse tonight because the majority of the members are gone, and he can't get a pity fuck."

"Why would she break up with him?" She leaned to the side and took her cell out of her back pocket.

Neither Ashley or Lindsay had texted or called today.

"Don't know." Thorn drew from the bottle. "She's your friend, not mine."

One of the things she loved about being friends with Lindsay and Ashley was the fact they were all hers. They had no connection to Brikken, besides Ashley recently dating Olin.

While she never confided in them about her feelings toward Chief or her past, they accepted her for who she was since she was eight years old. Lindsay and Ashley were her dose of normal she relied on to always be in her life, in one way or another.

"I'm going to call her." She stood, walked outside, and pushed the connect button.

Ashley's voicemail came on. She hung up without leaving a message and called Lindsay. That, too, went to voicemail. Becoming concerned, she sent them both a text message.

Slipping her phone into her pocket, she searched for Olin and found him talking to a group of bikers. She jogged across the field and slowed as she approached their conversation.

D-Con, Skidd, Domino, and Greggy turned toward her while Olin was slow to notice her. She ignored the others and waited for him to look at her. When his gaze flicked over her as if she wasn't even there, she grabbed his arm and turned him.

"Can I talk to you? Alone?" She tugged.

He shrugged out of her clutch. "Busy."

"It's about Ashley," she whispered.

"Still busy." Olin pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Why don't you go ask her all your questions?"

"Because I can't get ahold of her."

He exhaled smoke out of his mouth. She blew straight air. Her frustration level rising, she refused to let go of him.

"Girl trouble?" Skidd whistled in amusement and hooked his hands underneath her armpits. "You need to lock that down, man. Nobody has time for that."

"Ashley's probably fucking someone with a bigger dick." Greggy laughed. "Tired of trying to get off on that little pecker of yours, Olin."

Olin's cigarette went flying, and he lunged, tackling Greggy. She jumped out of the way of their flying fists, her heart racing. No stranger to fighting, the Brikken men often spent their free time drinking and fighting as entertainment when they weren't working or on the road.

Skidd stepped on Greggy's arm, holding him on his back. "I'll put a ten spot down that Olin breaks his nose again."

"Twenty says they're both getting off on rolling together." D-Con held his bottle out and clinked it with Domino's drink.

"Stop it." She stepped closer, pulling on Olin's leather vest. "Greggy's bleeding."

Olin's wild gaze came around to her, and he shoved off Greggy, breathing heavy. She pushed him back and held her arm up in case Greggy charged. "Take a walk with me."

The roar of approaching motorcycles distracted her from getting to the bottom of what caused the fight. She let go of Olin and walked forward, stopping when the prospects opened the gate for the riders to enter Brikken property.

The first biker rode through. She rubbed her bare arms at the onslaught of chills.

Chief.

He'd returned.

His long, wind-whipped hair blew behind him. He downshifted. The rumble settled deep in Johanna's stomach. Every time he came back riding on his Harley, he seemed bigger than life, an empowering tower of strength.

Untouchable.

She swallowed hard. Except, he'd always been available to her, and he no longer fought their attraction. Her stomach fluttered, and her body tightened, trying to contain all the emotions swirling inside of her.

Knowing Chief would park at the head of the line, she used some of her extra adrenaline to hurry toward the clubhouse. The hours had dragged on today as she waited, expecting him to arrive. It was now past midnight. He'd been gone longer than he'd told her.

Only two other women waited at the door with her. Monte's wife and Strawman's woman. Her attention contained to Chief, she hugged her middle. He moved slower than normal and his usual guttural shouts as he instructed his members was missing.

Chief's hulking frame slid off the bike, and he talked quietly with Keeffe. She waited, knowing club business came first, no matter how much she wanted to wrap her arms around him and reassure herself that the last time Chief was with her, he'd made promises she never expected.

He'd laid their relationship out in the open when he'd placed the key in her hand. She had a hard time believing it was true when he wasn't standing right in front of her.

There were unanswered questions that needed addressed. If he planned to treat her like Nene and only see her on a set schedule, she'd go back to the apartment. She wanted all of him or...well, nothing wasn't an option. She'd fight for the rest of her life to have all of him.

Chief turned away from Keeffe and scanned the crowd, his gaze stopped when they landed on her. Her stomach flip-flopped, and she couldn't refrain from walking—running to him.

He caught her. She buried her face in his neck, letting his whiskers tickle her cheek.

She squeezed him. "You're home?"

He hitched her higher with his hands on her ass and walked. "Yeah, business is done for now."

Excited, she kissed him, thrusting her tongue out to meet his. If she had any belief that she was in charge, he dispelled that notion taking the kiss deeper in front of everyone. Her legs tightened around him, and she pressed her breasts against his chest.

The same frantic desperation that he'd left her with swarmed around her. Thrusting her hands in his hair, she loved on his tongue. The velvety softness caressed and warmed her, and she wanted closer.

Inside the clubhouse, he set her on her feet breaking the kiss. Under the lights, she stared up at him, unsure of what was expected of her but knowing what she wanted.

Having never questioned him or found out his desires for how he lived his life, she'd settled on dreaming about being the only woman who received his love, wholeheartedly, in every part of his life.

Chief grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the sidebar and returned to her, putting his arm around her shoulders and taking her toward the stairs. She wrapped her arm around his back. Elated that he'd come to her and held nothing back, she let her love shine through.

She hugged him as he walked up the stairs. "I'm so glad you made it back in time to go to bed with me."

He glanced down at her. "Do you think we're going to sleep?"

Her foot caught on the step, and she stumbled, holding on to him. "I-I hope not."

"You hope not?" He chuckled. "That's my bug."

"Well, we don't have to stop." Her lower stomach quivered at the thought of him doing more than fingering and kissing her. "Nothing is stopping you, right?"

He paused outside the door to the bedroom. "What the hell, Johanna? Why do you think you're here?"

"Cause you're claiming me as one of your women and allowing me to finally be with you," she said.

Chief tilted his head and frowned. She straightened her shoulders. He obviously had a different idea of what was happening, and she'd assumed wrong.

His gaze lowered to her chest and then picked up her hand, studying her fingers. He let go of her, swung the door open, and said, "Get in the room."

She shuffled sideways, skirting him. "Why are you upset with me?"

"You're questioning me." He flipped on the light and shut the door.

She pressed her hand to the front of her neck. "Because...well, I wanted to talk to you about everything that is happening between us first."

He stripped off his vest, removed his pistol, and pulled off his sleeveless T-shirt. She moistened her lips. There were only a handful of times she'd seen him bare-chested. Once when he'd given her his shirt when he removed her from the apartment as a child—she still had the shirt hidden in her dresser back at the apartment she shared with Lindsay and Ashley. Then, there were the times he walked out of the bedroom, half dressed, after having sex with Nene.

Those times couldn't compare to right now. He seemed broader, stronger, more powerful. She gulped. More intimidating somehow, and he'd never made her afraid before. Not of him. Not of how she felt toward him.

The familiar tattoos covering his upper body comforted her like a long-lost friend. His chest hair, once dark, now was peppered with gray. Her gaze lowered to his thick, hard abdomen.

Flustered, she turned away and walked over to the dresser. Needing to distract herself, she trailed her hand over the patches on his vest. "Karla and Nene are just as important to you as I am. Even more so, because Karla had your children and Nene's been with you forever."

"Bug, look at me."

She gazed over her shoulder. He'd stretched out on the bed and latched his hands behind his head. She looked down his body and turned around fully. He hadn't taken off his jeans or boots.

"I didn't think I'd be this nervous," she whispered, pointing and waving her finger. "It's different without you wearing clothes. I know you, more than I know anyone, and yet I feel like I don't know this side of you."

His gaze softened. She bit her lip. He liked what she'd confessed and her neck warmed in embarrassment.

She wasn't ignorant about sexual relationships. One guy that she'd gone out with got turned on because she wore her hair up in a ponytail. He had some weird neck fetish that did nothing for her because she got goosebumps every time he tried to touch her—and not the good kind. By the end of the night, her hands stung and tingled for how many times she'd slapped him away when he touched her there.

"Johanna?" He rolled to his side and scooted over. "Come over here."

She approached the bed and stretched out beside him, propping her head in her hand. Being close to him helped settle the conflicting feelings coursing through her body.

"You're beautiful," he said, low and husky. "And, so fucking silly."

He smoothed the frown off her face. She closed her eyes at his touch and said, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not, bug." He let go of her and then he scooped her, pulling her close.

Stomach to stomach, she opened her eyes. He kissed her softly, and his chest expanded. She placed her hand on his side, unsure of moving forward without knowing what he was thinking.

"Karla used to hang out at the clubhouse when Rollo was in charge. I partied with her, and she ended up pregnant. I liked the idea of having a kid, and put her up in a house, set some rules, and over the next five years, she had two more of my kids. Eventually, when I had all my sons, I allowed her the freedom to be with other men." Holding her, he kissed the top of her head. "Then, she helped raise you, and you were around to see what kind of relationship I kept with Karla."

She tilted her face. "You stopped sleeping with her?"

"Stopped. Started. Stopped again." He brushed her hair out of her eyes. "She had the option to leave Brikken if she wanted, but my boys and you would belong to me."

"What about Nene?"

"She's a whore." He chuckled when she slapped his hip. "Nene's been around the club for a long time."

"She's older than you?"

He nodded. "She belonged to Rollo before he met my mother and he kept her—I don't know, out of obligation or responsibility—and then went back to her after my mom died."

She wrinkled her nose. "There are some things about Brikken that I'll never understand."

"What I'm trying to tell you is Karla and Nene had their place." He lowered his voice. "You have a different place in my life. That key I gave you is for Karla's house. It's yours now."

She gawked, unable to hope that she would be the only one in his life.

When his gaze intensified, she jumped off the bed.

Her heart pounded.

The room swayed.

Her skin flushed.

Hysteria bubbled inside of her.

"Get out," she whispered.