Page 19 of Savage Lust

And then she made a noise in her throat, half choking, half gasp. “Are they…?”

I looked down at a chair beneath us, a good bit away from the others. I couldn’t be sure who it was, but a woman was bouncing on top of a charter member. “Yup.” Then I snorted. “One less shark to worry about.”

She laughed and leaned her head on my shoulder.

The desire that gripped me was enough I had to focus out on the rocks. I remembered all the shit Archer had done for me. The lessons he taught, but more importantly, the secrets he kept. “Listen, if the house isn’t yours, he’ll have left it to the club. Either way, it belongs to you as long as you want it. As long as it takes, cool?”

At least there, I could keep an eye on her.

“Yeah, thanks.” She nodded.

She was quiet and leaned against me for so long I thought she’d passed out. Then she whispered. “You said every man here.”

“Yup.”

“Even you?”

I bit back the groan. Fuck yes, I was one of them. She didn’t give off the damsel in distress vibe; she came here to fix shit for herself. I could admire that. It made her sexier than hell.

I needed to put space between us, fast.

“Come on, darlin, let’s get you home.”

eight

Riley

An energetic knocking broke through the cocoon of sleep that wrapped around me. I was warm and comfy, snuggled down in a bed that smelled of clean sheets.

My bed is in storage.

Something weighed my brain down, made it hard to wake. I didn’t want to get up, or to acknowledge that I needed to be awake. For the first time in months, I was warm, safe.

My eyes flew open. Several terrified seconds ticked by as I placed the pale blue paint and Americana art on the walls. I was in Archer’s guest room. The foggy bliss was the remainder of the alcohol in my system.

The limo brought me back, and I’d stumbled in here, leaving my shoes and jeans somewhere in the kitchen, my shirt on the floor by the bed. I’d barely managed to tug on a t-shirt before passing out.

I stood, stretched, and the knocking sounded again.

“Crap.” I jerked a pair of shorts from my bag and hopped into them.

My heart raced, but not from fear. As I rounded the corner, it slowed. Cam wouldn’t need to knock, would he?

Dylan waved through the glass, holding up a brown bag with a smile on her face and dark sunglasses hiding her eyes.

“Morning,” she said as I let her in, dark ponytail swinging behind her. “I come bearing pastries and coffee.” She dropped the bag, and I peeked inside as she went back out.

Croissants, the chocolate filled kind, and several types of Danish.

“Just save one of the cherry ones or Savage will get all in my ass.” She brought in a tray with four foam cups.

“I like mocha, I got you one too. That okay?” She plucked one out and handed it to me.

“Perfect.” I settled in at the table as she moved around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets until she found some plates and put them on the table.

In the distance, the hum of a motorcycle crept closer until it became a wall shaking roar up the driveway and reverberated in the carport. The sound drowned out the fluttering of the butterflies that kicked up in my chest.

When Dylan handed me a plate and napkin, I dug out a croissant. And another bike pulled in behind Cam’s.

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