Page 34 of Property of Bull
There’s suddenly a lot of noise in the background but I can’t make sense of any of it.
“Wait,” I say, pulling back from his mouth. “I’m claiming you, too.”
A low rumble of laughter kicks off behind me and just as I would look to glare at Halo again, Stryker slams his lips down on mine, rougher and more possessive this time.
When Stryker begins walking, I lean deeper into the feel of his tongue dancing with mine, assuming that he’s taking me to his room. Right until the icy blast of South Dakota’s wind smacks the back of my neck.
“Nooo,” I cry out. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you shopping, then going to see the sheriff,” he responds with a smirk.
“I wanted to go upstairs,” I whine, squeezing my legs tighter around his waist.
“You’re sore, remember? Once you’re my Ol’ Lady, you’ll be used to me riding you every day, but for now we’ll take it slow.”
“Didn’t we agree to take ourrelationshipslow?” I ask him, fairly certain that’s what we agreed on earlier this morning.
“Bullshit,” he mutters, opening up one of the identical black SUVs the MC seems to have parked out here and deposits me in the passenger seat. “You’ve been living rent free in my head since the day of your grandmother’s funeral, I just didn’t know why until you flared your nose at me during music bingo. You’re mine and the sooner I get my patch on you the better.”
Bull
Walking around the front of the SUV, I shoot Sauce a text telling him to order a Property of Bull cut for Margo before sliding into the driver’s seat, fully expecting an earful from her.
Instead, her head is against the window, her eyes are closed, and her mouth is slightly open. I’m tempted to go back inside and smack Sauce upside the head for overserving her at this hour, but trouble’s a-brewing so I don’t have time.
Driving to the first store I have in mind, I realize that I’m smiling and I know it’s due to the whirlwind who’s gently snoring next to me. While wondering what my mom would have thought of her leads to darker thoughts, of how to keep Margo by my side and never make her feel like her wants and needs don’t matter.
Like my father did to my mom.
My life isn’t the one I would have chosen for myself, but I’ve long since come to terms with that and believe that I would have become a King, one way or another, no matter the path I would have picked.
Here and now, I swear to myself, that whatever our kids want to do with their lives is their choice and if Margo wants us to live in the south for a couple of months during the winter, then we’ll figure out how to make that work, too.
Right now, I need to make sure that no one’s going to be looking at Margo for any murder charges, then we’ll figure everything else out.
Just as I’m parking, Margo makes a little moaning sound in her sleep, and I look over to see a little smile on her face. She damn well better be dreaming of me.
“Wake up, babe.” I reach over, gently sliding a hand up her arm.
After giving me the side eye, she stretches her arms out in front of her and arches her back stretching until she gets a look at the sign in front of her. “Where are we?”
“We don’t have time to go to Rapid City today, so we’ll get you underwear here and then stop and get you some other stuff somewhere else.” I tell her, trying to keep the smirk off my face.
“The Naughty Spot? You brought me to a sex shop for underwear?”
“I’m certain they’ll have bras that I’ll like better than yours,” I tell her with a wink, smiling when she flares her nostrils at me.
Getting out of the SUV, I walk around the vehicle, prepared to toss her over my shoulder if I have to. Honestly, I’d probably get a discount if I did.
She’s already on the ground and squaring her shoulders before I can open the door for her.
“What’s running through that head of yours?” I ask her, suddenly wondering how bad an idea this might be.
“Just that we’re getting something for you to wear, also,” she announces as she tries to walk past me.
Reaching out, I grab her hand and fall into step with her, ignoring the look of surprise on her face, but wait for her to say something about it.
If I want to hold her hand in public, I’ll fucking hold her hand; to hell with what my dad would have done.
