“A little,” she admits with a small smile. “He looked at me like I had three heads and said he’d just gotten done fucking her in your bed. Then went on to explain Niki and you.”

  Sounds like Viper.

  “That I’m her favorite.” I am. By far. Big used to be her second favorite before he got with Bink.

  Kit crosses her legs. “Basically.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Evidently, you have a sexual chemistry that none of the others have with her, and that’s why she’s been hanging around for years.”

  Fuckin’ Viper. Kit doesn’t need to know all that. Sure, it’s true. But damn… Way to throw a brother under the bus.

  Dropping my chin to my chest, I pinch the bridge of my nose, clench my jaw, and blow out an irritated breath. “Christ. He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”

  “It’s fine.” When I glance up, Kit’s waving me off like it ain’t no thing. “That’s your life. Not mine. If you think that’s going to change my opinion of you meeting Adam, it’s not. I just appreciate you not making my life a living hell over this. It’s not like I kept him from you on purpose.” She chews on her lower lip, and I swear the softness of her voice combined with that type of vulnerability is what the best dreams are made of.

  Not wanting her to think I’m ever gonna hold this against her, I say what I should’ve said an hour ago. “If ya need to hear it, I forgive you. You can’t change the past. There’s no use in making you pay for it when you’re trying to set shit straight now.”

  Kit practically melts into the chair in relief. “Thank you. You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”

  Now that that’s outta the way, we lapse into an easy conversation about anything and everything. I learn she’s an online professor and Adam can’t keep a job to save his life—a rebel to the core, like his father. She explains Jeremy’s part in her past and how he left. The fucked-up shit she rationalizes pisses me off to no end, but I don’t let it show. The bastard doesn’t deserve them as far as I’m concerned. She’s where she should be, here.

  Not wanting things to appear one-sided, I fill in what I can about the club and my part. I even tell her about Janie and Dom living with me. About my brother, Bonez, who’s a chiropractor by day, a biker by night, among a handful of other things I conveniently leave out for her protection. The more we share, the warmer, lighter, I feel. She smiles… a lot. Yet, I don’t get hard, not once. It’s a damn miracle.

  When Kit’s eyes start to lower from exhaustion and she yawns adorably, I keep the conversation flowing, not wanting this night to end, needing her to talk more. To hear her voice one more time. Slowly, I watch her drift to sleep, sitting up, and my heart clenches at the sight. I think this was the most I’ve talked to a woman in my life at any given time.

  Soaking up her presence a few seconds longer, I memorize the wave to her hair, the paleness of her flesh, the curve of her breasts, and the colorful ink wrapped around her arms from fingers to shoulder. When I’ve had my fill, I hop off the desk to get her to bed. She’s not going anywhere at this hour. It’s four in the morning.

  Scooping her into my arms proves easy enough. Her face tucks into the crook of my neck as she mumbles something. I smile, not tired in the least. If anything, I’m energized.

  Opening the door to exit, I jostle Kit a little to get a better grip, not wanting to drop her. I take her to my clubhouse bedroom to get some shut-eye. The door’s unlocked, and when I push it open with armfuls of hot baby mama, the sight I’m met with takes every ounce of me not to lose my cool. Asleep on the bed is Niki. Kai, once again, didn’t follow orders. Either that, or she snuck back in like a naughty whore. I’ll bet money on the latter. He isn’t stupid enough to fuck up this bad again. At least, he’d better hope not.

  Screw it. I’ll deal with this later.

  Blowing out a breath, I leave the door as-is and readjust a sleeping Kit in my arms before carrying her to the backdoor of the clubhouse. Again, I try not to wake her as I open the damn thing. She stirs for half a second as we step into the night. The stars are out in full force as I carry her from the front of the compound to the houses in the back—my house. The home I share with Janie and Dom.

  I take the front steps of my place two at a time and see us inside without hitting her head or feet on the doorframe. It’s a miracle she doesn’t wake up when I finally lay her in my bed. Sweat drips from my forehead from exertion. It’s worth it. Every bit of it. Not a single club whore has been in my house. Until Janie and Dom, I rarely used the place. There was no need when my bedroom at the clubhouse is adequate.

  Looking down at Kit tucked onto her side on my side of the mattress, I brush strands of purple hair off her forehead. She’s stunning—cute nose, sharp cheekbones, and the beginning of lifelines in places all of us tend to share when we age. I sweep my thumb across her jaw and her eyelids flutter from stimulation. It’s sweet.

  For half a second, I wonder if I should change her clothes, then think better of it. The last thing I want is to offend her. I decide to remove her shoes instead. It’s the least I can do. I sweep my gaze down her body and the sandals she was wearing are missing. Shit. They must’ve fallen off on the way. I’ll deal with that in the morning.

  Backing away from her twists my stomach in knots. It gets worse when I stand in the doorway, watching her sleep on my blue comforter. Not liking this view, I round the bed and fold the blanket in half to keep her warm. There, that should do. Kit’s cheek snuggles into my pillow as she adjusts to get comfortable. Unable to help myself, I do something I know I shouldn’t and drop a single kiss on her temple. My lips linger there, eyes closing as I inhale her fruity scent—peaches and cream.

  My cock thickens as I drag my mouth down her cheek to press another kiss there.

  Inhale.

  Pause.

  Her pulse beats under my touch, offsetting mine that rushes faster.

  “Goodnight, beautiful,” I whisper and tear myself away before I make things worse.

  To avoid temptation, I shut my bedroom door quietly. In the living room, I remove my shirt and shitkickers before sprawling out on the couch. I tuck an arm behind my head and hit one of Dom’s toys. Chuckling at the plastic alligator, I set it and all his other items on the floor to get some shut-eye.

  It eludes me.

  For hours, I lay awake, staring at the white popcorn ceiling—thinking.

  I grow hard, then soft, and hard again as fond memories and shameless thoughts tumble through my mind on a constant reel of good and bad. The sun eventually casts an early morning glow through the blinds, and I can’t seem to care.

  Today, I became a father for the first time. A real father. If I go to sleep, the day I learned of Adam will fade, as will the memorable night I spent with his mother.

  I want it to last.

  It’s not every day you’re given a gift.

  There are very few I can count.

  The day my mother died.

  The day my father died.

  The day I joined the club officially.

  The day Bink came into the world.

  The day Leech was born.

  And today… The day I found out I’m a dad. Even if it’s twenty-two years too late, I’m gonna make the rest of ‘em count.

  CHAPTER THREE

  GUNZ

  Standing in front of his chair, Prez slams a gavel on the large oak table with the Sacred Sinners emblem burned into the center to commence church before he takes a seat. The room is packed wall to wall with brothers. I sit to the right of Big at the head of the table. Kai, as a VP probie, takes Big’s left. As treasurer, Blimp’s beside me.

  Getting down to business, Big dives straight into the hard shit we gotta navigate. “The attack on the compound must be met with power!” His lip curls back in feral hatred, and the side of Big’s fist comes down hard on the oak. The pens go airborne for half a beat from sheer force. “We won’t sit idly by and let Remy’s shitbag crew come into our home and fuck with our family,” he growls.

  Prez’s statement is met with a chorus of approving grunts.

  He keeps going. “I propose we start sendin’ members from all chapters to the locations Bongo scouted for us. Take ‘em out in high numbers. No more of this small-time shit. It’s time to put ‘em to ground, for good. It’ll be tricky to keep the law outta our way, but I don’t give a damn. My old lady killed those motherfuckers on our land. Remy’s shitbags will never get within a mile of her or any of our old ladies again. Am I clear?” Too agitated to sit, Big pushes to his feet. His chair flies at Viper and he stops the thing before it slams into his legs.

  Nods and loud, eager grunts echo throughout the windowless space, giving Prez all the support he needs to make this happen.

  “The first set of runs will start in four days. You decide among yourselves who’s goin’ first. I want six brothers from our chapter goin’. Kai will help organize where you’ll be. Gunz has the specs.”

  On cue, I stand and slide thick packets across the table for everyone to read. Brothers along the wall are handed sets by the officers at the table. The space goes quiet as they ingest the goodies I’ve provided, which includes Remy’s training grounds for his crews and the new spots they’re peddling flesh in and out of the US and Mexico ports. There are three in Florida, two in Texas, another in Southern California, two in Maine, one in North Carolina, and six in Mexico we’ve pinpointed with recent activity. That’s not including the large compound they just opened in the mountains of West Virginia. Those weasels so much as cough and we know. That’s why the attack on the compound was a surprise. We should’ve been prepared. We should’ve seen them comin’ from a mile away. Now we’re paying the price for our negligence. Bink’s paying the price. Big, too. That’s unacceptable.

  Before all this went down, our Texas chapter and Rosie handled Remy and his crew. Big made a deal with Rosie years ago to let her run things how she saw fit as an unofficial club affiliate. Now that it’s escalated to this level, we’re bringing in big players, as it should be. You don’t have the prez’s old lady killin’ people on our compound and send a couple knives to battle.

  “Any questions?” Big addresses the room, giving them a chance to speak.

  White Boy, the young blond of our brood, steps out from behind Tripper. “When we free their merchandise, how’s that gonna work?”

  Big’s gaze sweeps to me. “Gunz already talked to Whisky, and they’re prepared to handle the influx of newcomers.”

  “And we’ve got safe houses stationed all over the US to assist in overflow,” I add on his behalf. There are gonna be a helluva lot more freed people than we think. Whisky, my brother’s club president’s old lady, and my brother himself, rehabilitate the captives, but they can only take on so many without raising suspicion. The other spots will serve as temporary quarters until they can process them.

  “I take it we’re goin’ to war then,” Dallas pipes up.

  “Yeah, brothers, we’re goin’ to war.” Big thumps the president patch on his chest.

  “It’s about damn time,” comes from Mickey.

  “Hallelujah. I get to kill these motherfuckers,” Viper announces.

  Before church turns into a blood-lust confessional, I give Big a look. It’s a simple one I’ve used a thousand times before to request unspoken permission to address the brothers. He nods once and retakes his chair, effectively giving me the floor to do what I gotta do. We might as well get this over with before the rumor mill fires on all cylinders.

  I raise a hand in the air and the chatter ceases. Just like that, all eyes are on me. I force myself to breathe as my heart beats a little faster. I rub my palms on the front of my jeans before I pull a Dum Dum from my cut and pop the sweetness into my mouth. It takes the edge off. I sigh in temporary relief.

  Blimp taps me on the elbow in support, knowin’ what I’m gonna say after yesterday.

  “There was a woman at the gate last night. She drives the yellow truck you’ve seen parked out front.” I checked in on it before church. It’s safe. White Boy took care of it.

  I wait for someone to throw a sexual innuendo. When it doesn’t come, I scan the room of my brothers, of the men I’ve had at my side for decades. This should be easy, not hard like it was for me to leave Kit in my house when I came to handle club business on no sleep. I left a note for Janie and one for Kit in case I wasn’t back before they woke. God knows what’s going on there right now. I wish I knew.

  Kit

  Stretching both arms above my head, my knuckles hit a wooden headboard as I yawn and pry my eyes open.

  I fell asleep in Gunz’s office last night. I remember that much. This place is too nice to be a clubhouse bedroom—white walls, blue comforter, and dark oversized manly furniture. There’s a die-cast motorcycle on the dresser beside three family pictures—one of a man who looks like he could be Gunz’s brother. There’s the same blonde from his office picture in another and a tan girl with black hair with a baby in the third. That must be Janie and Dom. The nightstands flanking the bed are strangely neat and tidy, with brushed nickel lamps and white shades. Whoever decorated this room knew what they were doing. Is it weird that I pictured Gunz’s bedroom covered in naked posters of women and Harley emblems? Stereotypical, much?

  “Morning,” a soft, accented voice whispers.

  I nearly jump out of my skin. “Shit!”

  In the doorway, with an auburn-haired baby boy on her hip, is Janie. I quickly sit up on the bed and tuck the blankets around my waist. “Hi. Sorry, you startled me.” Out of habit, I comb my fingers through my hair to straighten out the inevitable bedhead.

  “I’m Janie.” She waves. It’s awkward, like she doesn’t know what to say or do with me. The feeling’s mutual. Out of politeness, I wave back.

  I’d planned on staying in a hotel in town last night. Now, I’m here, in Gunz’s house. In his bed, no less. Not what I expected. None of it has been. Not the meeting, not the long and easy-flowing conversation last night. Not a thing. I’ve been living on my own for years, now that Adam has decided crashing on his buddies’ couches is more fun than dealing with Mom or having a stable roof over his head. I live a mundane life that revolves around keeping my kid out of trouble. Obviously, I’m doing a bang-up job of that, too. Sleeping in a strange man’s bedroom when I haven’t kissed a man, let alone slept with one in over three years, is… unsettling.

  I lift the edge of the blanket to my nose and inhale deeply. My eyes flutter closed in pleasure. Mmmm… Spicy men’s cologne and rain detergent—orgasmic.

  “Gunz left a note for both of us.” Giving me a funny look, Janie points to mine on the nightstand. I quit being a weirdo and release the blanket to peek at said note. It’s on a ripped half sheet of paper, written in small, messy handwriting, signed Erik, not Gunz. I smile at the sight, even if it’s ridiculous. We’re not some long-lost lovers and he’s left me a sweet note. I think I’ve watched one too many Hallmark romances. Those are a secret obsession of mine, especially the Christmas ones.

  “Thanks.” I lean over without falling off the bed, pick it up, and rest it on my thigh to read after she leaves.

  Janie bounces the boy on her hip as he gnaws on one of those cookies for kids. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. The bathroom’s just here.” She thumbs to the hall outside the bedroom.

  Out of politeness, I force a closed-mouth smile. “Great. Thanks.”

  Offering a nod of goodbye, Janie exits, and I’m left to my own devices in Gunz’s very clean bedroom. I know, I already said that, but it still surprises me. There’s not a sock on the floor. Not a smudge of dirt on the wall. Sure, there’s a pair of old leather boots by the dresser, against the wall. Even those are mud free. Adam could learn a thing or two from his father.

  His father.

  Jesus, I can’t believe I’m here. On a biker compound, in a biker’s bed, and he’s the reason I have a son. It’s surreal.

  Shaking the thoughts from my head, I take it one step at a time.

  First things first. Read the note.

  Kit,

  I smile at my name scrawled diagonally across the top. Apart from Mel, short for

  Melanie, nobody’s given me a real nickname aside from him.

  Don’t worry, your virtue remains intact. I laid in the living room after I carried you to my place. I lost your sandals somewhere along the way. I’ll find them when I can. I have a meeting with the brothers in the clubhouse this morning. It might run long. If you’re up before I get back, please don’t leave.

  Mi casa es su casa.

  Janie knows you’re here. I promise she doesn’t bite. I can’t say the same for Dom. He’s an ornery fella.

  There’s food and drinks in the fridge. Help yourself. If you need a shower, you’re welcome to mine. I’m sure there’s something in my closet that’ll fit you, even if it’s too big. Borrow whatever.

  Looking forward to seeing you again,

  Erik

  PS Again. Please don’t leave. I will track you down, so save us both the headache and relax for a while.

  Okay. I’ll stay. That works for me. I’ve got a few days off, and I don’t have to visit Adam in jail again until tomorrow at the next available visitation.

  Climbing out of bed, clothes fully intact, I take his lead and pad across his plush, feet-loving carpet and pull the door of his closet open. Once again, I’m met with a shock. It’s clean. Shirts are hung by color and style—mostly black with a few other variations mixed in. Another pair of boots and a pair of black Converse rest beside yet another dresser. I pull open the top drawer and find jeans all nicely folded. The next yields shorts and more jeans. The bottom is where the pajamas are hidden. Let’s just say it’s a sparse collection of pjs, which leads me to believe he either sleeps in boxers or nude. I’m hoping the former ’cause I don’t think my brain can digest the latter. Gunz naked twenty years ago was incredible. I imagine it’s not much different now. Maybe even better. Not that I plan to find out.