Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“You grew up in an MC?” I asked as I joined her on the couch.
“Yup,” she confirmed, swinging her arm in a circle in front of her body. “This one.”
My eyes widened. “Really?”
She nodded, her lips curving into a smile. “My dad was the prez before King.”
“Oh, wow.” I leaned back to get more comfortable. “I had no idea.”
Tugging on the bottom of the leather vest Connor had insisted I wear, she smiled. “Which means that I spent my childhood in the same room your kids will probably grow up in.”
“Umm…” My cheeks filled with heat. “I’ve only known Connor for a couple of days. It’s way too soon to talk about any possible children we may or may not have in the future.”
She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m the very last person who would judge you, even if you were already pregnant. Not only did I provide the ladder to get down from the balcony when Jared kidnapped me from here way back when, but I’ve also had a front-row seat to all the crap the guys have gotten up to when they’ve found their women.”
“Whoa,” I breathed, my mind reeling over what she just shared. And the fact that she very well could be right about me being knocked up since Connor hadn’t used a single condom any of the times he took me, and I wasn’t on birth control. A conversation he’d managed to dodge since the first time we had sex. “Sounds as though you have a lot of great stories to tell.”
“I’m sure you’ll hear plenty of them.” She patted my hand. “For now, I’ll just say that guys like Jared—and King—tend to move quickly when they find something they want. And that goes double when they meet the woman they’re gonna make their old lady.”
I was still new to the world of motorcycle clubs and their lingo, so I asked, “I know Connor introduced you as Mac’s old lady, but that’s really the term they use for their women?”
“Yup,” she chirped, beaming with a pride I hadn’t expected. “And there are absolutely no negative connotations like some outsiders might assume. Being claimed by a Silver Saint is the highest honor a member can bestow on his woman.”
“Nah, gettin’ claimed by a Hound of Hellfire is even better,” a deep voice disagreed from behind me. “Especially once I join their ranks.”
“Matteo!” Bridget squealed before giving the guy who’d been at the gate when I arrived at the compound a big hug. “Hopefully, you’ll be patched in soon. I miss seeing your gorgeous face.”
“Sorry I haven’t ridden out to see you guys lately,” he apologized. “Between prospecting and slinging ink at Hellbound, I’ve had my hands full.”
She patted him on the cheek. “I know, but your mama has been asking me about you, and I felt bad because I couldn’t tell her that you came over for dinner, and I sent you home with leftovers to make sure you had home-cooked food.”
Matteo rolled his eyes. “She knows I can cook for my-damn-self. She’s the one who taught me.”
“You know how mothers are.” Bridget shrugged. “We worry.”
He waved his hand down the length of his body. “The next time you talk to mine, you can let her know that I am looking as fine as ever, just so long as Mac isn’t around when you do it. I might be family, but that wouldn’t stop him from kicking my ass in a fit of jealousy.”
One minute, I was laughing at his request, and then it felt as though all the air had been stripped from my lungs when I locked eyes with Connor. He was stalking toward me, but his attention was centered on Matteo.
“Fanculo.”
I didn’t feel the same humor that I had when my stubborn refusal to leave had made him swear. Not when I was the reason he’d gotten on the wrong side of the president of the club he wanted to join. Taking a big step away from him, I muttered, “Sorry.”
Bridget let out a low whistle. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Jared is going to have so much fun with this after all the crap King has given him about being whipped by me over the years.”
Connor ignored her verbal taunt as he asked, “Are you done?”
He was staring down his prospect as though he was about to murder him.
“Just came in to see Bridget, Prez. Got no designs on your woman,” Matteo promised.
“Good,” he gritted out before throwing me over his shoulder.
Gasping, I reached down to grip his waist. With how he was holding my legs against his chest, I didn’t have to worry about him dropping me, but it still felt weird to be carried this way. And oddly sexy since it was Connor.
If he had been anyone else, I would’ve alternated between plank and fetal positions to throw him off balance. I’d also do as much damage as possible to his eyes, ears, and throat until he dropped me. Then I’d go for his balls, kidneys, and knees. Preemptive strikes against vulnerable parts of an opponent’s anatomy helped level the field when someone my size was up against a guy as big as Connor. But the last thing I wanted to do was hurt the man who’d swept me off my feet—literally and figuratively.