Page 30 of Savage Outlaw

“Suits me.” Gruffed the VP who was letting Sunny chew on his thumb knuckle.

An important decision came from the church meeting that day. It didn’t stop Butcher’s head being miles away, mentally punishing a woman with a peach ass, salty tongue, and a body he wanted to die inside of.

With plans to do that, he ambled out of church and nearly collided with Arson in his haste to leave too.

Bloodshot eyes met Butcher’s and he frowned. “You good, brother?” He could see Arson was far from good, but the guy smiled as he always did. “Yeah, man, right as fucking rain. Catch ya later, places to go, honey’s to service.”

Worry for his brother weighed heavy, knowing sooner or later he’d press the self-destruct from something he couldn’t come back from. Either in the bottom of a bottle or fucking the wrong person and being made to eat a gun—as much as that weighed on Butcher’s mind, making a point to touch base with Rider, to see if he’d noted the change in their boy, he was still hooked around the memories of Roux.

She had him conditioned like Pavlov’s dog.

Locked and loaded for any given moment.

It didn’t matter that months went by since they fucked last. He hungered for that woman every single minute of the day.

He wanted her body, sure. She was stunning. But he craved her touch, her light fingers drifting through his hair. He craved the taste of her laugh on his tongue and the demand of her words.

They’d never been given a real chance to forge a relationship, to see if they could stand the test of time. He didn’t even know how she liked her breakfast food, for fucks sake.

A man should know this about his woman.

And mark his words, she would always behiswoman.

She could be on marriage seven with one hundred babies and she’d still belong to Butcher. That much he was certain of and he’d reached a point he was so sick of denying himself that chance.

The more he thought about it, as he fixed coffee and seeded bagels Paige dropped off to the club every morning, the more he became messed up about not knowing all those small details a man should know.

He bet Reaper knew that shit about Paige. Bet Preacher did too. Even Hawk who always gave an air of not giving a fuck about anything, he’d know every detail down to the letter about Gia.

Butcher crunched angrily and swallowed too hot coffee. Stewing in the misery he toted like a woman’s overstuffed purse.

He stewed until he popped up off the stool and left his dishes for someone else to deal with.

He was too busy swinging into his leather jacket, striding to his bike and climbing on before starting it up.

Too tired of everything.

Not least of all giving up on something he fucking wanted.

Might he get dead because of it? Sure.

But living a life without her was pure fuckingtorture.

He wanted a chance to see if they had legs to grow into something worth having.

Possibilities came with their own risks.

Butcher roared out of the compound, knowing he was willing to risk it all.

Fuck him.

And fuck Axel Tucker.

He was done sitting on the side lines.

NINE

“This chick doesn’t know how fucking hard she’s making my life.” - Reno

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