Page 30 of Ride or Dies

I reached out and brushed the tips of my fingers right above the bandage. “I want to do more than that.”

He caught my hand and I looked up at him. “I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings here, Evie-girl. I know what happened between you and my brothers.”

“Tucker told me that you talked about it,” I said. “He also said that you weren’t jealous of each other. Or, more like, you wouldn’t be if you…shared me.”

Just saying it out loud had my pulse picking up a step.

“Just me and my brothers,” Mason said. “You understand that, right? We don’t want anyone else touching you.”

“I don’t want anyone else touching me,” I said.

“Good.” Mason kissed my knuckles and then let go of my hand. “Now, strip.”

I blinked, startled by the switch. Though I supposed it wasn’t really a change since we were still talking about us having sex.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Humor danced in his eyes, but it didn’t dim the desire I saw there too. “I almost died. Don’t I deserve a bit of a show?”

“If you almost died, you shouldn’t be having sex,” I pointed out.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll let you do most of the work.”

“I’m serious, Mason. You’re hurt.”

“I’ll never be too hurt to fuck you,” he promised. Then he gave me that damn smirk that seemed to be genetic. “Hell, just thinking about it has me half-hard. You get naked and I guarantee I’ll be ready to go.”

The smart thing would’ve been to tell him that it wasn’t a good idea, leave him to rest and heal. Except I hadn’t quite been able to shake that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach from when I thought he might not be okay. Touching him, kissing him, had helped, but a part of me needed that deeper connection, that intimacy, to prove that we were both very much alive.

I stood up and pulled my shirt off, tossing it onto the chair where Lara had been sitting. Tucker had brought me some clean clothes this morning, but none of them were anything special. As I took off my jeans, the expression on Mason’s face told me he didn’t care that I wasn’t wearing some sort of fancy lingerie, that my white cotton bra and panties were enough. Still, a wave of self-consciousness came over me and I crossed my arms over my stomach.

“When we’re done here, I’m gonna want the name of every asshole who put that look on your face,” Mason said, his voice dangerous in a way I’d never heard from him before.

“I can’t have you beating up every record executive in Nashville.” I tried for a joke, but it fell flat.

“Guess I’ll just have to settle for proving just how gorgeous you are.” He paused, a troubled look crossing his face. “We didn’t do that, did we? My brothers and me?”

I shook my head. “You guys were assholes about a lot of stuff, but not that. Probably because your mom and sister would’ve had your heads.”

“More like our balls,” Mason said. “Speaking of balls…”

He reached down and adjusted himself, giving me that playful leer I’d seen directed at women quite a bit when I was growing up.

“Did I mention that I got shot because I was protecting a puppy?”

I gave him a skeptical look.

“Junkyard’s old lady got this little fluffball and it tried to chase down the Cobras, so I ran out and grabbed it. That’s when I got shot.” He held up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a Boy Scout,” I pointed out.

“Biker’s honor?”

I laughed, and something in him relaxed. It suddenly hit me that humor was how he’d coped after their dad passed. Levi had become the man of the house. Tucker had been the smart one who did stupid shit. Jenna was the baby. And Mason had always tried to keep everyone laughing.

“Now get on with it, sweetheart,” he demanded. “I’ve been dying to see those curves.”

“Let’s stay away from the d-word, okay?” I said as I reached behind me to unsnap my bra.

“You don’t want me to say dick?” he teased. “What about cock? Is cock okay? What about pussy or cunt? Can I use those? Or are you one of those weirdos who only uses the correct terms for shit so I have to say penis and vagina? I mean, I’ll do it, but saying I wanna put my penis in your…”

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