CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I’m not thrilled with the report I get from Hoot.
Yeah, I’m risking pissing Hope off for good by still having her followed, but I’m fucking worried about her. Greybell finally made bail, and I’m not taking a chance he will come back to finish what he started. From what I’ve been able to figure out, his family shuttled him away to a mental hospital.
He best fucking stay put.
I don’t know if Hope is aware of his release. It’s not like she would change her routine even if she did.
She’s stubborn that way.
However, I’m annoyed with today’s report from Hoot for different reasons.
She’s having lunch with Lilly and some guy Hoot doesn’t recognize. Although I know Lilly enjoys playing the field, I’m concerned she might have taken it upon herself to set Hope up on a date.
The idea kicks my fuckin’ ass into gear.
When Hoot tells me it looks like she left the office for the night, I ask him to tail her until the turn off for her house. He gives me the call that she’s almost here, and I steel myself for what’s about to go down.
This has to go right. Fucking up isn’t an option.
Headlights wash over me, and I squint into the light, relieved when I recognize Hope’s car. She barely has the key out before she opens her door.
“Rock?”
“It’s me.” Shit, I didn’t want to scare her.
The soft slam of her car door, gentle clicking of her heels over the pavement are just background noise compared to her voice. “Why are you here?”
“To talk.”
“Oh.”
She’s close enough for me to see the corners of her mouth turn down. Without inviting me inside, she opens the door. I follow in right behind her, just in case.
After setting her things down, she leans against the kitchen counter. She folds her arms over her chest and nods at me.
Fuck, this is hard. “I wanted to give you this,” I say, while digging into my pocket for the small rectangular box.
Her eyes fill with confusion as she stretches out one hand to take it. She slides the box open and stares at what’s inside for a beat before speaking. “A phone?”
“Uh, yeah. I can have your number switched over to it later if you want.” This is awkward enough without getting bogged down in the technicalities.
“Okay.”
“Turn it on.”
She fiddles around with it for a minute or so before the screen lights up.
“Now what?”
I hold out my hand, and she moves closer to give me the phone. Standing side by side, when I haven’t been near Hope in what feels like forever, momentarily distracts me. Finally, I manage to call up the screen I need. There’s a small blue heart steadily blinking at the center. I hand the phone back to her, and when her fingers brush against mine, it’s a fight not to crush her against me for a scorching kiss.
“What is that?” She takes the phone from me, studying the screen. “Is that a…map? That’s my house.” Her questioning eyes meet mine.
I pull out my phone to show her the same screen, mine with a pink heart blinking—her.
“You…You’re giving me the same thing?” My chest tightens at the sound of her low, velvety voice.
“Yes. I trust you more than any woman I’ve ever known.” I grab both phones in one hand and tip her chin up. “But. You have to promise me you will never come looking for me if I’m out on club business. Ever. If you’re worried, you tell one of the guys, give them the location and let them handle it. Promise.”
She blinks a few times before answering. “Okay, I won’t. Promise.”
I nod, but I don’t let her go yet. I want her to understand how serious this is. “The shit I was in the middle of the other night, sweetheart, if you’d come rolling in…it would have been very bad. For everyone. Especially you.”
“You scare me, Rock.”
My pulse jumps—how can she say that?
The heavy frown I’m wearing must nudge her into explaining. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid for you. Can you understand that? My husband was very cautious and safe, and yet I still lost him. You’re non-stop danger, and I’m so scared of you…dying,” she finally whispers.
A number of emotions run through me, hearing her admit something so deep. I land on guilt. I need her to hear the absolute truth from me.
“I’m so sorry that I make you worry. But can I tell you something?” She nods for me to go on. “Only three things in this world keep me up at night. The thought of losing you. Losing one of my brothers. Going back to prison. That’s it. I’m not afraid of dying, babe.”
Admitting that to her didn’t feel as bad as I thought it would.
“Prison,” she whispers, as if the thought had never occurred to her.
“Yes, babe. You know I’ve been inside. Long time ago. Don’t ever want to go back.”
I watch her face as she absorbs my worst fears. Even though we’ve never talked about it, I know she knows.
“Prison,” she mumbles again as if reality is finally dawning on her. “Then why do you—”
I stop her before she even gets the thought out. “It’s all I know, babe. It’s why I keep so many secrets, and don’t trust anyone outside the MC. It’s why I insulate myself with people who have the juice to keep us out of trouble—like Tony Cain.”
She nods, but I can already see the tears filling her eyes. This is a little too much raw honesty.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about tracking your phone. It’s not because I don’t respect you, I just worry—”
I don’t get to finish, because she pulls away from me.
"My life is only ever in danger because you put it there!"
Almost true. "So Adam's client who attacked you, that’s my fault too?"
She's got nothing. She sputters. Fuck me, did I finally outsmart my mouthy lawyer woman?
One corner of her mouth quirks up, and she shakes her head. “What am I going to do?”
I’m not really sure what she means, but I take her hand anyway. “Love me. Let me love you.”
“That’s not enough.”
Oh shit. No, no, no.
“I need you to not get hurt. Can you promise me you’ll do your best to keep yourself safe?”
I expected her to say the risks were too high and she needs to be with someone safer, or to ask me to quit, leave the club. But she demands none of that. No, she’s asking me to keep myself safe.
My throat is so tight, it’s hard to speak. “Of course.”
“I mean from…other things too. I don’t ever want to have to come visit you behind bars.”
After spending the day visiting Grinder and all the bad memories that dredged up, her words are like a knife in my gut. “I’d never ask you to do that, baby.”
Hurt flashes in her eyes. “I wouldn’t desert you.”
What did I do to deserve this woman’s loyalty?
“Besides, I’d wait for you, so I could kick your ass when you got out.”
That’s my girl.
Taking a few steps to the side, I set the phones on the counter, then hold out my hand. She places her hand in mine, and I tug her against me.
“Remember how I told you once I’d let you go, if you wanted me to? I can’t do it now, Hope. I can’t. I love you too much.”
Her wide, green eyes blink up at me. “I don’t want you to let me go. I love you too.”
Thank fuck.
“I need you.” And it’s true. I need Hope more than fucking air right now.
“I need you too,” she echoes with a sweet smile.
She’s incredible, but at the moment she’s not getting me. I walk her gently backwards until she’s pressed up against the wall. Lifting her legs so they’re wrapped around my hips, I lean in and bury my face against her neck. My lips slide over her soft skin, licking and sucking until her breath comes out in jerky little pants.
Now she understands.
Her arms lock around my neck, pulling me close. My hands find their way to her waistband, where I pull and tug her blouse free. Sliding my fingers over her bare skin, I can’t get enough. I don’t think my big, clumsy hands can work the tiny, delicate buttons of her blouse.
So I tear it off. Creamy lace covers her heavy breasts, but not so much that I can’t spot light freckles and perfect rosy nipples peeking out.
Hope gasps as she looks down at the ruins of her pretty blouse hanging from her. As she shrugs out of it, she pins me with a stern stare. “That was expensive.”
There’s no anger behind her words. She’s working hard to keep her mouth from curving into a smile.
“I guess I owe you a blouse then,” I tease.
Her thighs squeeze me tighter, and she reaches for me again, pulling me close. I can’t get enough of her breasts—they fill my hands perfectly. I draw the lace cups of her bra down, placing her on display. Slowly, I skim one hand up her side, smoothing it over her breast, stopping to pinch and roll the stiff tips of her nipples and take in her responses. She whimpers and pushes her hips against me.
My dick is so fucking hard.
“I need to be inside you, Hope,” I murmur against her neck.
Her body tenses a bit, and I pull back. Suddenly she’s wearing a shy, hesitant look that I’m not liking very much.
“It’s been a while.”
“I know—that’s why I need to be inside you so bad.”
She meets my eyes, bites her lip a little, and it hits me upside the head what she’s worried about.
“Baby, if you think I’ve even thought about another woman, you’re out of your mind.”
Yeah, that’s what was bothering my girl. Her body relaxes a notch. She lowers her gaze and a shiver works over her. “I said we were done,” she whispers with aching sweetness.
“I’m well aware. Thing is, I don’t listen so well.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I knead my hands into her hips a little harder until she’s staring at me. “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I’m the one who fucked up. I’m sure it won’t be the last time, so I hope you’ll be patient with me.”
A half smile pulls her mouth to the side. “Try harder.”
“No trying about it—I’m hard as steel,” I tease, then grind my hips against her pussy through her perfectly tailored dress pants to emphasize my point. Meeting her sultry gaze, the words I need her to hear come pouring out. “You’re it for me, Hope. I don’t even see other women any more. Only you.” I wish I was better with words. Even so, I think she gets it.
“Rochlan,” she sighs. “You’re it for me too. You know that, right? There could never be—it’s why I need you to keep yourself safe.”
Breathing? What the fuck is that? I don’t even know, because I’m so fucking lost in her words.
I ease off her enough to slide my hand over her front, then hook a finger into her belt, tugging it free. Her clothes aren’t coming off fast enough—I have to set her down so I can work everything off her body. Our hands and arms tangle together while she dives for my belt and jeans, but finally, I have her standing almost naked in front of me. Beautiful.
She looks up at me through her lashes, and it hits me hard how much I want Hope and no one else. Every single word I told her was true. I grip her hips, lifting her slightly, and she hooks her legs around me again, using me as leverage to work her slick pussy over me. Tease. I reach down and guide my dick into her. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, eyes going wide, mouth open as I keep sinking into her, deep as possible.
Those short, breathy nonsense sounds she makes drive me crazy. So crazy that, while I’m using my arms to cushion the parts of her jammed up against the wall, I can’t stop myself from ramming into her.
“Yes, Rock. Just like that. Right there,” she gasps. Her legs tighten around me, fingers digging into my skin. My girl is completely with me, loving every brutal thrust.
“I need…I need you, Rock.” I doubt she’s aware of what she said, but it pushes me right over the edge. That’s what I needed to hear. She’s tight and trembling in my arms, her pussy locking down on me. Her soft moaning and panting fills my ear. Her face is flushed—a stunning light pink, lips parted, face tense as she concentrates on coming. So beautiful. I’m done. Crushed under the weight of her beauty and trust. I keep pounding into her until I’ve got nothing left to give.
My legs are still trembling as I straddle Rock’s bike on the way to his house. No matter how chilly the night air whipping around us is, there’s a warmth in my chest that can’t be extinguished. Rock’s love and faith in me mean everything. The makeup sex is great, don’t get me wrong, but those two things are priceless. I think I can put up with all the other demands of the club as long as I have his respect and trust.
Once we get to his house, Rock silently leads me inside.
“Are you hungry, baby doll?” he asks in a hoarse voice that makes my heart clench.
“A little.”
He sits me down at the table and goes to work making something simple. Before he sits down to eat with me, he sets two wineglasses and a bottle of red on the table. I quirk an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs.
“Surprised the biker has fancy stemware?” he teases.
“A little,” I answer honestly.
He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he pours the wine.
After dinner, I help him clear the table, and he leads me upstairs.
Butterflies flutter around in my belly. I can’t believe I’m ready to jump him again so soon.
Just outside his bedroom, he pauses. Suddenly his demeanor radiates a certain significance that makes my tummy quiver for different reasons. My plans to race him to the bed and be naked in his arms within the next five seconds are suddenly put on hold.
He takes my hand and pulls me into the bedroom.
“Baby doll, I want to have a talk with you.”
“Uh-oh.”
Hope’s wariness made me feel like an asshole. There’s no reason for me to be so fucking dramatic, except I’m nervous. Very few things in life get my heart racing. But this conversation I’m about to have with Hope? Yeah, my pulse is easily going one hundred and twenty miles an hour.
But I opened my big mouth. Shutting down now would only make things weirder.
Curving my hands over her hips, I nudge her to the bed. Maybe this conversation would be better naked?
But no, I’ve dicked around too long as it is.
Pulling a chair over, I sit in front of her and take her hands in mine. Even though I’ve gone over this conversation in my head dozens of times, it still takes me a minute to line up the words the way I want them to come out.
“Hope, baby. You know how the guys keep referring to you as my ol’ lady?”
She lifts one shoulder and nods. “I used to get annoyed when people thought I was younger, but I can’t say I’m thrilled about being called ‘old.’”
Instantly, I’m thrown back to the day we met. I’d originally pegged her at about six years younger than her age. I chuckle at the memory of the first time we had lunch together and I mistakenly told her she’d make a fine stripper. Man, I was an asshole.
“Fair enough. But it’s not about age in my world. It’s about respect.”
She doesn’t snort or roll her eyes. She’s listening intently.
Reaching up, I draw one finger down her arm and take her hand again. “It means our relationship is permanent. Stable. It’s a way to warn my brothers to stay the fuck away from you.”
Her lush lips curve into a wicked smile. “I’d say you’ve done an admirable job of that.”
I want to smile at her teasing words, but she also needs to understand how serious I am. How serious what I’m about to explain is.
She meets my eyes with her soft green ones and flutters her lashes at me.
I won’t let her pretty owl-eyed expression distract me from my mission. “Ol’ ladies are the most important females associated with MCs.”
Now she’s wearing this cute baffled expression.
“Calling you that lets my brothers know I’ll throw down for you. It means I trust you to never talk about club business. It earns you their respect and loyalty.”
She snorts at that. “Please. Wrath has been mean to me since day one.”
The corner of my mouth twitches, but I stop it from becoming a full-blown smile. “Yes. While ol’ ladies are important, they’re also a threat to the club in a way.”
Her eyebrows draw down in confusion.
“I don’t want to get off track here, but that patch Wrath wears—sergeant at arms—it’s not just decorative. It means he’s responsible for the safety and security of the entire club. His job is to protect and defend the members. But his loyalty is to me. And with you being a civilian with no experience in our world and being a lawyer, he had valid concerns that you could harm the club—even unintentionally.” She goes to speak, and I hold my hand up. “I’m not saying I approve of his methods, but you’ve always managed to hold your own, yeah?”
“I guess,” she grumbles. Good, I don’t feel like giving her a lesson on the structure of the whole damn club. We’ve got much more important things to get to.
“So by being my ol’ lady, that makes you my property—”
“Excuse me?”
“Again, it’s about respect and commitment, Hope.”
“Doesn’t sound very respectful,” she mumbles loud enough for me to catch each word.
I give her a hard stare. “In my world, it is. We’ve already talked about the differences, remember?”
She grinds her teeth and huffs, then finally nods.
“Property just means you’re under my protection and under the protection of all my brothers. Remember the night of the fight when Z said he’d kill anyone who fucked with you?”
“Yeah, but people say stuff like over my dead body all the time.”
I shake my head. “Yes, but again. In my world, it actually means something. Z wasn’t talking out of his ass. He’s the one who went with me to take care of those two assholes that ran us off the road, by the way.”
Resembling an unruly five-year-old, she slaps her hands over her ears and yelps, “Don’t. Want. Details!”
I snatch her hands back. “Okay, okay. But, you get what I’m saying? That goes for all of them. Bricks, Teller, Murphy, and especially Wrath.”
“But they would do that for Trinity too, and she doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“She belongs to the whole club, Hope.” I circle a finger in the air, then press it over her heart. “You belong to me.”
Her eyes flutter shut and then open. I see her turning my words over in her head, and I can tell she’s got a bunch of questions. For now, she keeps them to herself.
“You’re protected by the club, but you’re not available to the club,” I clarify.
Her face pinches.
“I know for a fact Trinity has explained to you that she is fine with that arrangement, so do not get offended on her behalf. That’s her choice.”
A quick chin lift tells me that although she agrees with what I said, she’s not happy about it.
“As the president’s ol’ lady, you rank higher than her. That’s why she gets so freaked out when you offer to help her in the kitchen and stuff.”
“That’s ridiculous. She’s been here for years and knows way more than me.”
“Doesn’t matter, doll. That’s how it is. But I want to tell you something. You’ve earned her respect and the guys’ respect by never rubbing that in her face.”
“How could I, when I didn’t even know?”
I cock my head to the side. “Come on, Hope. You’ve never treated any of the girls badly unless you were forced to. Ol’ ladies usually straight up ignore club girls.”
“Why?”
Yeah, we’ve veered off topic and I’m eager to get us back on track, so I’m going to let that question slide.
“Anyway—”
“Don’t ‘anyway’ me.”
Fine. “You know how you felt that night when Cookie got in your face?”
“Yeah, but Teller said that’s not normal.”
“It’s not, which is why I banned her. But remember Roxy and her crew? Clubs girls are only around for sex. Imagine being around girls who’ve been with your man or you know still are with your man when you’re not around. It gets uncomfortable sometimes.”
The battle goes out of her, and she deflates like a balloon. Not what I wanted. “Doll, I cannot do anything about my past. We talked about that. But you’re my future. Some guys still fuck around on their ol’ ladies, I won’t deny it. You don’t ever have to worry. I waited my whole life for you. I’m not gonna fuck it up by tapping every bitch who looks at me sideways. Been there, done that.”
All at once, the fire is back. My girl really hates when I use the “b” word.
“Normally ol’ ladies segregate themselves from club girls altogether. Unfortunately, you don’t have that luxury since you’re the only ol’ lady.” I give her a smirk, which thankfully she returns.
Time to wrap this up and get to the point. “So, you understand that in any crowd of bikers, whether Lost Kings or some other tribe, an ol’ lady being LOKI property is not a derogatory thing. It’s a respect thing. If we had a visiting club here, none of them would approach you unless I okayed it.”
“That’s just weird.”
“Look at it this way—no one is going to hit on you.” She should appreciate that. Girls usually hate unwanted attention, right?
“Great. Put me out to pasture. Call me old and have me thinking every man in the world thinks I’m an ugly hag?”
“What?”
“Sometimes girls like to be hit on. It reaffirms we still look good. You’re taking that away from me.”
Is she fucking with me?
“Babe. In my world, hitting on another man’s ol’ lady is absolutely not tolerated. It is grounds for a beat down.”
She leans over and kisses me softly. “Then you better compliment me often.”
My desire for her is slowly strangling my balls. “In about five minutes, I’m going to have you bent over that bed showing you how fucking hot I think you are.”
Her cheeks flush red, and she gestures for me to hurry up.
“Trust me, I’ve had to threaten every one of my brothers with physical violence at one time or another because they’ve affirmed how good you look.”
A slow smirk spreads across her lips, and a little too late it occurs to me I should have kept that tidbit to myself.
“Even Wrath?” She scrunches her nose in disbelief.
“Especially him,” I growl. “Especially after that incident in the garage,” I remind her. She turns a nice shade of pink at the memory.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I grit out, “Can I please finish?”
“I’m all ears.” She sits back, crosses her legs, and gives me her best attentive student stare.
Shaking my head, I continue. “So, sometimes when a woman has been taken as an ol’ lady, her man gives her a vest with her own patch.”
Reality seems to crash into her with the force of a freight train. “Are you saying you want to give me that?” she asks softly.
Finally. Christ, it took a fucking hour to get to the good part.
“Yes.”
“Is this the biker equivalent of an engagement ring?”
“Sort of. It’s more than that, really. Will you wear it for me?”
“Where?”
I almost snap, but then I rein it in and realize she’s worried about wearing it in her world. “Only when you’re in my world, babe. I’m not asking you to wear it to court or something.”
“Hmmm…so I’ll kinda be like a superhero with a secret identity?” she asks with a sweet lilt in her voice.
Fuck, I love this woman.
She’s going to be the best ol’ lady ever.
Completely overwhelmed with everything Rock has explained to me, one thought burns brighter than everything else. Whatever this is, it’s a big commitment. Waves of anxiety are rolling off him.
Too stunned to give him the answer he wants, I bust out the superhero quip.
He seems to appreciate it, though, and some of his tension fades.
I hold my breath, then jump. “Of course I’ll wear it.”
He blows out a relieved breath, and it hits me how nervous Rock was about this conversation. A shiver of warmth spreads through my chest at the glimpse of vulnerability.
I really love this man.
It’s starting to sink in that I’m in way deep. Not only with Rock. But with all of his brothers too.
And I’m okay with that.
As an only child, I never had anyone to look out for me. After my father died and my mother turned into a negligent train wreck, I spent a lot of time fending for myself. My mother didn’t get her act together until I was in my twenties. By then, I’d been taking care of myself for a long time, and she seemed pleased to be relieved of any parental obligations. My husband came through the foster care system with his bitchy sister as his only family. Clay and I formed our own small family, and I never desired anything more.
Until now.
Rock is offering me a true family.
A bloodthirsty family with a bit of chauvinistic bent. But family.
Although I still can’t comprehend the emotional strength it takes to be available to all the brothers, I understand why Trinity feels safe with the club.
“Baby doll, you make me so fucking happy.” He stands and pulls me up with him. The way he drags his gaze down my body raises my temperature by at least five degrees. On the way up he lingers on my breasts, then finally locks eyes with me. Those deep, gray depths with flecks of blue turn almost black. Smoldering for me.
His jaw ticks. “You’re mine, baby doll.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Going to fuck you now.” He squeezes the words out through gritted teeth.
The words are harsh, but his touch is gentle. I hold my breath as he traces his knuckles over my breasts. My nipples harden under his attention, straining through my shirt. He flattens his palms over both breasts, his thumbs drawing tight circles over the peaks. Through my clothes, I still feel the heat and respond instantly.
One hand drops to my hip, and I’m yanked against him as he kisses me hard.
In between kisses, I breathe out, “Yes.”
I’ve got to get my hands on his skin, slide them over the hard muscles. He’s hard everywhere, and I don’t know which of his perfectly sculpted parts I want to fondle first.
I break our kiss to tug his shirt up and over his head, then my own. I shimmy out of my pants next and kick them away.
Down we tumble to the bed. I put my whole body into kissing him. I want him to feel how much everything he said means to me. And that even if I don’t exactly comprehend everything, I get the intent behind his words. I want him to understand I feel the same way.
I honestly think if someone threatened to take him from me, I would kill them.