Page 86 of Filthy Savage

I don’t think I want to know. I also realize that it isn’t my place to know. So, instead of asking him for any details, I just dip my chin in confirmation. “I can do that. Same place, same time next month?”

“Sounds good,” he murmurs. “See you then.”

Before I can say anything else, he turns and walks away. Not that I had anything else to say to him anyway. Guts slaps his hand on my shoulder, and I turn to look at him, arching a brow in question.

“Double?” he asks.

“That’s what he said.”

Guts hums but doesn’t say anything else. His hand falls from my shoulder, and I watch him rock back on his heels. “Sounds like it’s either a good deal or a trap,” he states.

He’s right. That’s exactly what it sounds like. As much as I would love to tell our contactfuck no, I can’t do that. We need the steady deliveries and the money, even if that means putting our dicks on the line because that is exactly what this shit feels like.

We climb back into the truck and head back to Pineville. I can’t stop thinking about Spencer, about this delivery and order. All of this feels wrong, but I can’t quite put the pieces together. Mainly because I’m missing too many of them.

Choosing to ignore the motive behind the order, I decide to focus on the fact that there is going to be a double order. That is good for business. I just hope it doesn’t mean the end of business. I decide to err on the side of caution and schedule myself as the delivery driver again.

I must be talking out loud because Guts offers himself to join me as well. Jerking my chin, I clear my throat, smirking because, if nothing else, Guts is a good man to have at your back. And he’s thinking the same way I am, that this could be a trap, and he’s still willing to offer to join me.

Hopefully, it’s just a bad feeling and nothing more. The last thing any of us needs is to be led into a fucking trap.

SPENCER

The bed dips,and I feel a body climb in behind me. I know who it is before I even flutter my eyes open. His body is warm and hard against my back. So much muscle, and I have it memorized. It hasn’t been long enough since we’ve been together again for me to have done that, but I have because I’m practically obsessed with him.

I feel his hand slide across my belly. Then his lips touch the side of my neck. Closing my eyes again, I let out a trembling breath. I want him to touch me everywhere, lick me everywhere, be everywhere.

His hand gently glides up the center of my chest. I feel his fingers curl around my breast, gripping me there, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from whimpering.

Turning my head, I touch my lips to the underside of his jaw. “Good morning,” I murmur against his skin.

Slowly, I turn in his arms. I don’t ask him where he was or what he was doing. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know. Because I do. I want to know everything. Every single detail.

Trying to shake that need off because even though I want it, I won’t be getting it, I let out a heavy sigh. It isn’t my information to know. I might be his old lady, claimed, announced, and living in his home, but I am and will never be a Dark Horse. Therefore,I’ll never know what he’s been up to, what he’ll be up to, or anything else that has to do with the club or its business.

“Morning, beautiful.”

Shifting my face away from his slightly, I look into his eyes. I stare at him, searching for a sign. I could lie and say that I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I do. I’m trying to gauge the trustworthiness, the lies, the hidden truths, whatever it could be that he was possibly out doing, but there is nothing there.

Evan’s conscience is clear, or he’s figured out how to hide it really freaking well. But I decide I’m going to go with what is best for my mental health. I’m going to go with what makes me happy. And it’s believing in him, in us, and trusting him.

“I’m going out with the girls on Thursday night,” I finally murmur, deciding to stop thinking about what he could have been doing.

He hums, his gaze never leaving mine. His arms pull me a little closer to him. My breasts press against his hard chest. He smirks down at me.

“Girls’ night. That sounds dangerous,” he hums.

Evan slides his hand up the center of my back, curling his fingers around the back of my neck and applying pressure there, but not enough to hurt me in any way. He lets out a low growl, then dips his head slightly, sliding his nose alongside my own before he nips my bottom lip with his teeth. “Is there going to be trouble?” he asks.

Letting out a trembling sigh, I hitch my knee over his thigh so I can get a little closer to him. Any centimeter closer is better than none. Dancing my fingers up his arm, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as his bicep flexes beneath my touch. Once I reach the top of his arm, I slide my hand across his shoulders, pressing my breasts even harder against his chest.

“No trouble, just three married old ladies, one girl who is very much in love with a bartender, and me,” I whisper.

“And you?” he asks.

“An old lady who is in love with her man.”

I feel really stupid as soon as those words escape my lips, but I also feel… at peace. They’re out now. It’s not like it’s any kind of surprise that I love him. That I’ve probably always loved him. Even if it was puppy love all those years ago, it’s not that now. It’s deeper, and I know that it will just get deeper and greater as the years pass.

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