Page 31 of Devils Cut

"Next on the agenda," I said, desperate to change the topic, "is the witches who run the back bar. I wanna switch 'em out." The boys looked at me, their brows raised in curiosity and scepticism.

"Really?" Hammer leaned forward, resting his tattooed forearms on the table. "Why do you wanna switch them out? Is this 'cause they're bitches to Tempest?"

My jaw clenched as I thought about the way they treated her. But it wasn't just that. There was more to it, an itch I couldn't scratch.

"Partly," I sighed, scratching at my beard. "But I'm tired of their shit. We need new blood in the clubhouse."

Trey's eyes gleamed, and he shot me a sly grin. "I'm down for some fresh pussy."

"Me too," Nate chimed in, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

I turned to Hammer, waiting for his verdict. He narrowed his eyes, studying the table like it held all the answers. "Sure, why not?" he finally said. "But I think you're underestimating the wrath of those bitches."

"Maybe," I admitted, feeling the weight of my decision. "But it's overdue. No one made them old ladies, so let's give someone else a chance. See if anyone bites."

My palm slammed against the table, punctuating my words. "Church dismissed." Time was slipping away, and I had to get back to the bar before Tempest left.

Hammer's voice stopped me in my tracks. "For fuck's sake, Corvus," he growled. "Just make her your old lady already. Can't you see what we all see?"

I clenched my jaw, staring him down. "And what's that?"

"Corvus, you're in love with the jailbait," he spat. "Make a fucking move. We're all tired of the suspense."

Heat rose in my cheeks, but deep down, I knew he was right.

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I got back to the bar just as Tempest stepped out, her dark hair catching the dim light of the street lamps. She waved at me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. I nodded, watching as she slipped into her car, the engine roaring to life. As she pulled out of her parking spot.

When we reached my place, I pulled up in front of the garage, killing the engine and kicking down the kickstand. Tempest pulled in behind me and popped out of her car.

She greeted me at the door, and I used my pinkie finger to unlock the door for us. The door creaked open, the dim light of the hallway casting shadows on Tempest's face. I held my breath, waiting for her to say something. But she didn't. Instead, she brushed past me, her body so close I could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

"Shower first," she muttered, already disappearing down the hall. I watched as she retreated to her room, the door clicking shut behind her. She was a shower person, always needing to wash away the grime and sweat before settling in.

I exhaled, my thoughts racing as I stepped into the kitchen. The fridge hummed softly, the only sound in the otherwise silent house. I pulled out some ingredients, my mind drifting back to that one time she tried cooking dinner for us. It was a disaster, smoke billowing from the stove and the fire alarm screeching like a banshee. I'd laughed then, but in truth, I was worried she might burn the place down.

"Fuckin' hell," I muttered under my breath, my hands working automatically as I started to cook. I needed to focus, to figure out what I was going to say to her later. But every time I tried, my thoughts just circled back to her - to her dark hair, her full lips, her defiant eyes. And how all those things made me want her more than I'd ever wanted anything in my goddamn life.

The sound of running water echoed through the house, mingling with the sizzle of food in the pan.

The steam followed her out of the bathroom, a hazy cloud clinging to her skin. She looked like a goddess emerging from some ethereal realm as she sank onto the stool at the kitchen counter, the oversized T-shirt she wore barely reaching mid-thigh. My heart slammed against my chest just looking at her.

"God, that smells good," she groaned, her eyes closing in pleasure. "I'm honestly going to starve at my new place without your cooking."

"Hey, it's not a problem," I said, turning towards her with a smirk. "I'll just pop over and cook for you there."

Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, and I couldn't help but grin.

"Please do," she replied with a laugh, folding her legs beneath her on the stool. "I'd probably burn the place down if I tried to cook."

"Wouldn't want that," I muttered, plating up the pasta I'd made for us. I carried it over to the table, placing her plate in the spot that had come to be hers - a little to the right, a little closer to me than the other side. It felt right having her there, even though we both knew she wouldn't be staying for much longer.

"Here you go," I told her, setting the plate down with a soft clink. "Dig in."

"Thanks." She flashed me a grateful smile before diving into her meal with gusto. The satisfied hums and moans she made as she savoured each bite were almost too much for my self-control. I wanted her. Badly.

She practically inhaled the pasta, her cheeks flushed with satisfaction. I couldn't help but chuckle, watching her savour every last bite. "You want more?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

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