Page 192 of Seizing Control: Part One

“Okay.”

“Got somethin’ for you.” Slash clicks his fingers. The prospect who went inside dashes over to him. “Would mean the world to me if you’d wear this.”

He extricates a black leather vest from the carrier bag.

I’m frozen in place as my husband shakes out the material so he can show me the back.

“Slash,” I whisper. My chin wobbles. Reaching out to touch the new patch, I stroke it with reverence. “You didn’t have to...”

“Yeah, I did, baby.” The big man helps me back to my feet. Water runs down my calves as he urges me to turn my back to him. I probably look ridiculous, clad in a damp bikini with a “Property of” cut over the top, yet I have never felt more cherished. My husband folds me into his embrace. He holds me tight, swaying from side to side while he kisses my forehead. “Know I’m too hard on you. Expect too much. This’s a peace offerin’... my way of respectin’ your heart and stakin’ my equal claim.”

Different but equal.

This is the closest Slash has ever come to conceding my truth.

“Thank you.”

After squeezing me tight, my husband steps away from me. There’s a mischievous glint in his gaze when he tells me, “We’ll see how grateful you are when I return.”

This time, I react the way a happily married woman should.

My heart skips a beat.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment.

A shiver of desire courses through my body to pool in my lower belly.

“Didn’t mean that, but I won’t say no if that’s how you plan on expressin’ your gratitude,” Slash murmurs. He jerks his chin toward the patio doors. “Had Atlas ride into town. He brought his machine with him.”

Nadia’s adopted brother is the club tattooist.

I understand what Slash is alluding to immediately.

The skin between my shoulder blades flares with recognition.

“Want my mark visible.”

Nodding, I offer my accord, “Okay.”

He lifts his arm to show me the scalpel that he’s had freshly inked on the inside of his wrist. It matches the charm on my bracelet. The only difference is that it’s stainless steel instead of gold. The sapphire inlay in the handle is identical to my pendant.

It’s almost an homage to Zeke.

A reverence Slash has refused up until now...

“You gonna fight me on this?”

“No.” With quick movements, I pull the hem of his t-shirt free of his waistband. My soul sings, even as my brain questions the timing of this gesture. Sliding my hands along his six-pack, I stop when my palms are over Slash’s heart. “I want to get this as well.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

My husband presses his palm over the back of my hand. The thin cotton of his t-shirt separates us, but I can feel the light tremor coursing through him. Using his second hand to collar me, Slash brings our foreheads together. I’m vaguely aware of Nadia telling us to get a room, and my brothers’ groaning, however, I am otherwise captive to the big man’s thrall.

“I’ll get mine fixed.”

“No. I’ll have Atlas make mine match... scar and all.”

---