Sydney held Jackie's hand and walked toward Jett. He took the beer she brought him and tagged her neck, keeping her beside him. She'd done better being with him and around the others over the last week. It'd been a good idea to take her to his house and show her what she could have if she put some effort into getting along with him.

"Keeffe put the new schedule up in the meeting room." Chief automatically reached down and scooped Jackie up and held her. "D-Con's out."

"His leg still fucked up?" Jet pulled a drink from the bottle.

"Doc says nothing is broken, but there's no fucking way he can ride with the amount of road rash down his leg. He'll be leaving a trail of blood behind him." Chief ignored Jackie pulling on his beard. "Freddy's taking his place."

"Chief?" Jackie tried to turn his head. "Chief?"

"Komoon's up half a dozen men," said Chief. "In another six months, they'll have more."

"Released members?" he asked.

Chief nodded. Jett took another drink and glanced down at Sydney. She gazed across the room at the women near the bar.

"Chief?" said Jackie louder. "Momma took Stassi home."

"Did she?"

Jett grinned at his dad, knowing he'd choose to go to his family tonight instead of staying at the party. He had similar ideas.

"We're going to cross the creek. You need anything, give me a call," said Chief.

"Will do. I think we're going to call it an early night, too, and head home."

Chief tilted his head and looked down at Sydney, remaining quiet. Jett chucked Jackie under the chin and then lead Sydney toward the door, leaving his dad to speculate what was going on. A crew of members had taken his stuff and Sydney's bag to the house earlier. Unsure if the move was permanent or not, he wanted to get Sydney alone and test the waters before he headed out behind the shipment of motorcycles to meet with Komoon Motorcycle Club with the others.

He wanted to make damn sure she stayed with him.

Since they're ride on Family Day, she'd stopped pulling away when he touched her. She made eye contact when he talked. She even started conversations.

But, it wasn't the same.

Her confident spirit hadn't fully returned. She still held herself back from him. It was there, hovering between them, and he wanted everything she could give him.

He'd never seen someone fight as hard as her, struggle with every inch of strength, and hold herself from enjoying the pleasure he could give her. Except, himself.

The responsibilities laid upon his shoulders as the next president of Brikken kept him apart from the rest of the members. The members needed to respect him now and seek him for guidance so when the time came to change the patch from Chief to him, Brikken would be strong.

He'd learned in prison that when he walked out a free man, there was no going back to his old life. Everything from that point forward was for his position in Brikken.

He sat his Harley, waited until Sydney warmed his back, and headed home.

Home.

He'd never planned to go back to the house of his childhood and yet after moving Sydney into the clubhouse he'd thought more of having her to himself without all the interruptions. Chief, wanting to unload the house, signed the deed over to him with an exchange of a ten spot.

Ten minutes after leaving the clubhouse, he pulled into the driveway and made a U-turn, backing the tire up to the door of the garage. From here, he could relax. At the clubhouse, he always had to be on guard. The men viewed Brikken property as a safe place to discuss business. A lot of the time, Sydney was within earshot of conversations that verged on sensitive to outsiders.

She never heard enough information for her to piece together club business, but here at the house, he could relax. It was only the two of them.

Keeping her away from Brikken was a way for him to protect her better. It'd been almost ten years since the last raid when he'd spent an eighteen-month sentence behind bars. The less Sydney knew, the better.

Sydney slid off the bike and removed her helmet. He walked with her up to the door and let her in. The place was no more welcoming than it had been the last time he'd brought her over. He'd need to round up some cast-off furniture from the members after he returned from the run.

Any decorating or turning it into a home could wait until Sydney fully accepted living with him.

"Um, Jett?"

He turned to her.

"Johanna mentioned back at the clubhouse earlier that she put a casserole in the fridge. Should I put it in the oven?" Sydney hooked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

"Yeah, go ahead." He watched her walk by him.

There was nothing for her to do here. She'd grow bored when his schedule returned to normal, and he had to spend hours away from her.

She stood in front of the range. He waited for her to turn around and when she continued standing there, he said, "Do you plan on watching it bake?"

"No." She glanced over her shoulder. "I don't know how to turn on the oven. There's no screen with buttons."

He walked into the kitchen. "You turn this knob to the right temperature."

"Four hundred," she said.

He turned the dial. "Then, you turn this one to the right one click. The info wore off the console twenty years ago, so you just have to go off remembering which position turns the oven on. It's old."

"I'll remember. Do you think twenty minutes will be long enough to heat it up?"

"Yeah."

She turned and mumbled, "This is weird. Being here."

"It's quieter." He leaned against the counter. "Just us."

He had yet to figure out if that mattered to her. His involvement with women never exceeded the fact that their sexual pleasure came first. He'd never experienced the uncontrollable need to consume everything about a woman before. Until Sydney came into his life.

He wanted to be involved in her mornings, her evenings, and know every second that she was accessible and his. And, he wanted her sexually.

He had no idea when young girls turned into women who thought with their pussy. He'd spent his teenage years fucking women older than him because they were there and offered.

He hooked his hands under his armpits. "Besides cons what did you do by yourself?"

"Slept." She shrugged. "Nothing else to do during the daytime hours and since I worked at night..."

She was too young to go to the bars for pleasure. Couldn't drink, smoke, get into the clubs. Far as he knew, once she'd run away from her foster family and got lost in the system, she never went to school. Not wanting anyone to turn her in, she probably dropped all contact with the kids she knew in her past.

"Do you ever want to go back?" He studied her for any sign that he'd pegged her wrong. "To school? To two parents?"

"No." Her eyes widened. "You're not going to turn me in, are you?"

"I don't want to but if that's what you want to—"

"I don't." Her shoulders sagged. "I'd just run away again, and I want to stay with you." She looked up at him. "Here, not at the clubhouse."

He reached out, wound his finger around the hair falling on her shoulder, and tugged her closer until she had to put her hands on his stomach to keep from being pressed against him, which put her against him anyway.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend, Syd?" He rubbed her hair between his fingers, thinking it was the softest hair he'd ever touched.

"What?" She snorted. "Nobody does boyfriends anymore."

"You don't date?"

She gawked at him. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

"People don't date unless they're old and you know, religious and stuff." She tried to push against him, and he refused to let her go.

"What do kids do?"

She shrugged. "Hang out."

"Do you hang out?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Because I want to know how much experience you have." He lifted her face when she ducked her chin. "Hm?"

"I don't want to talk about my past with you or anyone," she whispered.

At her age, her past was yesterday.

He lowered his head and kissed her upturned nose. Her answer told him everything he needed to know. If she had any experience, he'd find out. And, when he found out, he'd own that and make damn sure she understood what they had together wasn't the juvenile shit she'd experienced.

"Give me your lips, Syd."

She tilted her head. He pressed his mouth against hers and nudged her bottom lip down and kissed her the right way.

Sydney held still. He slid his hands down to her neck and placed his thumb on the soft spot above her collarbone, feeling her pulse. Her gasp. Her gulp.

She had yet to submit to her own pleasure which told him more about her lack of experience. He was fine leading the way, teaching her, showing her. Again and again.

He pulled back. The light blue of her eyes showed her pupil constricting, widening, and settling down to normal size from her arousal. She stared up at him, wrapping his heart in warmth and constricting his balls. All he had to do was touch her, and she'd be putty in his hands.

Her pulse against his thumb sped up. He rubbed his lips together in anticipation of more.

Not wanting to wait and have her second guess what he was doing to her, he leaned closer, until his mouth was just an inch apart from hers.

"Soften and open," he said.

The air from her mouth parting brushed over his lips, igniting him. He captured her mouth again and any thought to show her what to do next washed away.

She tentatively moved, sucking soft and sweet. He groaned in pain holding back and let her explore at her own pace.

Sydney moved closer and clutched two handfuls of his shirt, pulling him even tighter against her. He had to restrain himself from scooping her up and taking her to the bedroom.

He introduced his tongue into the kiss. She retreated and came back, playing with the tip as if she hadn't quite figured out that she could dip into his mouth and take them both deeper.

The shallow spot at the base of her neck under his thumb deepened as she stretched to her toes and tilted her head back more, opening her mouth more, taking more.

His hand tightened on her neck, and his cock pulsed painfully confined in his jeans.

A loud buzz filled the kitchen. He swallowed Sydney's startled scream before she jerked away, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and looking at him lost.

He inhaled deeply, reached around her, and shut off the timer on the stovetop. Sydney stood, staring at the floor. He opened a few drawers looking for a towel or potholder and came up empty.

"Syd?" He opened the oven door. "Can you go in the bedroom and get one of my shirts so I can pull the casserole out?"

He watched her quick escape. He wouldn't let her go far, because as soon as dinner was over, he planned on letting her kiss him again.