Page 141 of Wife Number One

Her accusations that we were keeping her imprisoned the same way Josiah had played over and over in my head. She wasn’t mine to control. She was a grown woman. She had a child. Who was I to tell her what she could and couldn’t do? “Rebel and Bliss both had to learn what Slayers’ parties were all about. Kara does too. We can’t protect her from everything, and if she’s going to be my woman, she needs to know what she’s getting herself into.”

Fang stared at me. “If she’s going to be your woman…” He leaned back against the gate and stared at me hard. “Are you for real, Hawk? I’ve known you a long time, and you’ve never once looked at a woman as anything other than a warm place to sink your dick. If you’re fucking with her, getting your rocks off on toying with her because she’s so innocent she’s practically Bambi, then—”

I glared at him. “Then nothing. Because I’m not fucking with her.” I pulled at the stupid cable-knit sweater that made my arms itchy. “You think I’d wear this shit for a woman I didn’t like? You think I’d take her out and spend hours talking to her? You think I’d spend every minute of every fucking day thinking about how sweet and good and sexy she is?”

Fang stared at me. “You gonna put her on the back of your bike?”

I sucked in a breath.

He might as well have asked me if I was in love with her.

It was the same thing in our world. No woman rode on the back of your bike unless you were willing to put a ring on her finger.

My brain said no.

My stupid fucking heart screamed yes.

I twisted on my heel and got back in the van. Screw Fang. Screw his stupid questions. He wasn’t in a position to ask me shit like that.

I got in the van and went after Kara.

All I could think about was how she’d feel, her sweet thick thighs wrapped around mine. Her soft tits pressed to my back. Her arms wrapped around my middle.

Every person we passed knowing she was off-limits because she was on the back of my bike.

She was my Little Mouse.

My woman.

Mine.

40

KARA

Istruggled down the track in my wedge shoes, battling to not twist my ankle with every step on the dark, uneven road. Party sounds grew louder as I approached the clubhouse, the music thumping and unfamiliar. Shouts and laughter. Beer bottles and glasses clinking together.

The parking area was full of unfamiliar bikes, and a group of men stood by the doorway, all with drinks in their hands, nudging each other. I didn’t recognize any of them, but they all wore Slayers’ patches like Hawk and War and the others did.

Anger had gotten me this far, but nerves broke through the red haze as I neared the men. I just needed to get inside and find Queenie, or a familiar face, and then the nerves would disappear so I could sink back into the anger.

I was a balled-up mess of confusion. I felt things for Hawk. Things just a couple hours ago I’d been so excited to explore further.

In a split second everything had changed.

If he’d lied about Hayden, what else had he lied about? Did he actually want me? Or did I actually mean no more to him than Kiki or Amber? Everyone had tried to warn me. Queenie. Rebel.

But I’d been so sure there was another side to him. One he’d saved for me.

How stupid to think I was that special.

Josiah’s voice rang loud and clear in my head. You aren’t special. You aren’t worthy. You’re nothing but a hole to fuck, one that can’t even produce a child, so what’s the fucking point other than a warm place to stick your dick?

“Hey, sweetheart,” one of the bikers said, leaning an arm on the doorway at head height so I couldn’t pass. “Haven’t seen you here before. You new?”

“Don’t fucking look at her,” Hawk growled from behind me.

It took me by surprise. I knew he’d follow me down here. Where else was he going to go? But I hadn’t even noticed the van, or him striding across the lot to catch up with me. I’d been too caught up in the whirlwind of emotions seeing Hayden had stirred to life.

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