Page 28 of Property of Riptide
“At least you’re not calling my cut a vest anymore,” he chuffs out. “That’s an improvement in itself. You’re getting the hang of things, Van, so don’t be hard on yourself. But to answer your question, putting my patch on you lets my brothers and outsiders know that you’re important to me. It’ll proclaim you as my old lady. It’s the highest honor and praise a man can bestow on his woman.”
“It almost sounds like ownership, Riptide.”
“In a way it is, baby. But it’s not meant to be demeaning.” Now I’m making a different sort of check list, one that I think I’ll have to talk to Zoey or Issy about. They’ll explain things in a different light, one that will be easier for me to understand. Men seem to beat around the bush when it comes to explanations.
“It’s something I’ll consider,” I declare, peering over at him. “When the time is right.”
“Think about it long and hard, Van. Because I’m not a patient man when it comes to something I want.”
The corner of my lip turns upward as I ask, “And that something you want is me, huh?”
“I’ve got you, Van. Whether you realize that or not. The goal here is to not let you go,” he says, his tone serious and his eyes full of determination.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t want to go anywhere then, isn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t matter if you wanted to or not,” he states. “You’re not going anywhere.” Parking the truck in front of the clubhouse, he lifts our joined fingers and tilts my head with the tips of our combined fingers, planting a long, lingering kiss on my lips. When we break apart, my entire being is tingling. “I’ve claimed you, it just isn’t official yet.”
His words make me swoon. I didn’t even know that was a real thing until just now. Maybe being owned by him won’t be such a bad thing after all.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Riptide
“Have I stunned you speechless, Van?”
“Hmm,” she hums, licking her lips. “Possibly.”
A knock on the driver’s side window has us both jumping. Instinctually, my hand goes to the grip of my Glock sheathed at my hip, readying to pull it free and use it if need be. When I twist around, Icer is standing there with Elodie in his arms. Elodie is snickering. One hand cups her mouth and the other one waves furiously at us. “Hi, Uncle Rip.”
“Hi, Elodie,” I respond.
“Y’all can keep making out, but we want little G,” Icer scoffs. “Stop holding him hostage and hand him over.”
“Yeah. We want little G!” Elodie shouts. “He’s ours, give him to us.”
“I see claims of ownership runs in the family,” Van goads.
“So does obsession,” I mumble. “May want to tuck that information away and don’t judge me by Icer’s fixated tendencies.”
“Little G!” Icer hollers impatiently, tapping the glass.
“Okay, okay,” I say, tossing my hands in the air. “Could you at least step back so I can open the damn door, man?”
“Open, open, open,” Elodie chants.
“What she said,” Icer states, taking a short step back.
“Need more room than that, brother,” I tell him, noticing that his backstep wasn’t as big as his shoe size.
“No,” he insists. “Make it work.”
“He’s determined,” Van mutters.
“He’s gonna get my foot up his ass if he doesn’t watch himself,” I say, showing him my teeth. “He takes things too damn far.”
“He’s not going to give up,” Van inserts. “May as well let him get his way or we’ll be stuck in the truck.”
