Page 34 of Colt

Freya laughed. “They were only being friendly, Colt. Chill out. Sometimes, you act like an old man.” Her glossy red lips twisted. “Thinking about it, you’re probably there already. You’re heading toward forty, right?”

I skewered her with a look.Jesus.“I’m thirty—fuckin’—six.”

She shrugged. “Close enough.” She threaded her arm through mine, and we headed up the street toward the restaurant. “I thought someone your age would have more patience.”

I unthreaded our arms as we approached the restaurant, grabbing the door and opening it for her. Without a thought, my fingers went to the small of her back, a lover's touch, guiding her toward the maître d, who stood at a desk talking to a waiter.

A trail of goose bumps erupted down her back, and my cock kicked at how beautifully she responded to my touch. My imagination went crazy thinking about all the other places I could give her goose bumps, and my jaw clenched.

The maître d’s eyes fell on Freya and widened briefly before he composed himself, giving us a friendly smile. “Good evening, Sir... Madam. What name, please?”

I shot him a cold stare. “Van Der Cleeve. Eight Thirty.”

He nodded. “Very well, Sir. This way please.” He took two menus from a pile and headed toward the restaurant area. We followed, all eyes turning to Freya. The men stared appreciatively, and the female ones filled with cold jealousy.

Without thinking, I caught her hand and brought it to my lips.

Fuckers needed to know that I couldn’t stop them from looking at my Princess, but by God, they’d never get to touch her.

Freya’s head whipped toward me, her eyebrows pulling together. She went to say something, but I shook my head at her. “Don’t say a fuckin’ word, Princess.”

Her lips curled into a slight grin, but she didn’t open her mouth, and thank God because my nerves were already on a knife-edge.

It had taken one damned day for me to do a one-eighty. Twenty-four hours for my mind to go from never wanting to stick my dick into Freya Stone, to never wanting anyonebutme, to pop her sweet little cherry. Meeting with Shepherd had put things into perspective because I’d gone back to the hotel and thought long and hard about what, and who, I wanted.

When Freya opened the door, all the questions I’d pushed down for years bubbled to the surface. Was being with Freya really a betrayal? I’d proven myself ten-fold to my Prez over the years. If we got together, who would we really be hurting? Wouldn’t it be better to make sure she was looked after?

She wasn’t a kid anymore. She was old enough to make her own decisions. The only way I’d betray my club was if I mistreated her, and I’d never do that.

We approached a table toward the back wall.Good, some privacy.

“Here we are,” the maître d said, gesturing toward it with a flourish. “One of the best tables we have.” He glanced at me curiously. “Sir, do we have the pleasure of hosting one of the New York Van Der Cleeves?”

I held Freya’s chair out for her, my fingertips lingering on her back as she took her seat. “Conrad is my father.”

The maître d beamed. “Excellent, Sir. Welcome to Rioja. Your waiter will be with you shortly. Can I get you anything from the bar?”

The maître d gave me a nod at the choice of wine I ordered and then disappeared.

Glancing around the room, I noticed most eyes still on Freya, and my chest twisted.

“New York Van Der Cleeves?” she asked quietly, eyes sparkling. “That’s hilarious.”

My eyes fixated on her plump, red mouth, wondering if the color would look good smeared around my dick. I pulled at the collar of my button-up. “Is it hot in here?”

Freya’s eyes softened. “I’m not overly hot.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” I retorted under my breath.

“Sorry?” she said, leaning forward slightly. “I didn’t catch that.”

My eyes dropped to the curve of her tits. “You’d need to wear clothes to feel the heat, Princess.”

She glanced downward. “Don’t you like my dress?”

My cock kicked like a motherfucker, my balls growing painfully heavy. “You know I like your dress, Princess. You enjoyin’ your little game?”

She dipped her chin and looked up at me, her golden eyes full of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This dress was the only thing that didn’t need cleaning, and to be fair, you didn’t give me much notice.”

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