Page 27 of Savage Guardian

While fucking annoying, Grimm’s interruption couldn’t have happened at a better time. If Hawk had continued kissing Fae, he would have stripped her soft body naked and then fucked her into the couch cushions, and that would have complicated everything.

It didn’t matter that the feeling of her in his arms, his mouth against hers, her tongue sliding along his, and her lush tits pressed against his chest was a goddamn revelation. It only mattered that she was the sister of his client—a client that he’d been so eager to take on, he’d threatened his own president, because he’d wanted to be with his Aoibheal so damn much he’d been aching for it.

And now you’re aching for her sister, you asshole.

“Leave her alone,” Hawk snapped, pushing Fae behind him—whether to shield her from Grimm’s eyes or to keep her close, he didn’t know. And that bothered the shit out of him. “Why are you looking for Trouble?”

Grimm curled his lip, his eyes dancing. The ass was enjoying Hawk’s discomfort, knowing full well he was trying to avoid introducing the woman he’d just been mouth fucking on the couch.

“Got a text from him, somethin’ about the Stone Cutters. From the sounds of it, there’s gonna be Church tonight.”

Behind him, Fae grunted, and he looked over her shoulder at her in time to see her roll her eyes.

“What?” Grimm asked, sliding to the side quick enough to see Fae and smirk at her. Fae stiffened against Hawk’s back. “You don’t think a good Irish Catholic boy like myself would attend church?”

Fae dropped her chin, her eyes wide and filled to the brim with false innocence. Her voice dropped in a brogue, and she lilted, “Och, aye. And ye would catch fire and burn so bright, the sky would be alight with it.”

For a moment, both men stood there, stunned, their mouths hanging open, struck dumb by the woman’s audacity…and fierce humor.

Grimm broke first, throwing his head back to roar laughter into the ceiling. Hawk followed, though his gaze remained on the surprising Fae. Her cheeks burned red, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth. Goddamn it! It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a woman bite her lip. They so often used it as a device for coy seduction, drawing his eye to their mouths. But Fae wasn’t doing that—and still the effect was the same. He wanted to take her mouth, replace her teeth with his, and have a good, long taste of her. Again.

“God, woman, you’re feistier than I first thought you’d be. Your file said nothin’ about you bein’ wicked clever,” Grimm said, making Fae’s eyes pop wide.

Shit.

“What do you mean, file?” she asked, fear taking the force from her voice.

“Fae, this is Grimm. He’s the director of Savage Protection—when he isn’t being an obtuse asshole. He has access to all files compiled for client protection purposes.”

Her face grew impassive, her now shadowed gaze flicked from Hawk to Grimm, then back to Hawk, where it stayed.

“I guess that makes sense. I am Carrie—Aoibheal’s—step-sister. You would need to check me out to make sure I wasn’t a threat. Though, why you would assume she would have anything to do with someone she felt threatened by, I do not know.” She planted her hands on her hips and raised her chin, giving Grimm a wide smile, one that made the jealousy simmering low and slow in Hawk’s gut take a furious stoking. “You think I’m wicked clever, huh?”

Grimm smirked at her, flashing straight, white teeth. The bastard.

“Och, aye,” he remarked, laughing at the blush that flooded her cheeks once more. “Come on, lass, let me buy you a drink. Hawk, here, wouldn’t know an excellent whiskey if it poured itself down his throat.”

Before he could demand that Fae stay right the fuck where she was, she looped her arm through Grimm’s proffered one and followed the man out.

Two hours after watching Fae’s rental’s tail lights disappear through the compound gate, Hawk was sitting at the long, handmade table with the club emblem burned into the wood at the center. He was waiting for Odin to get there so they could get the fuck on with Church, and he could get home. He had to be back at Carrie’s hotel suite in five hours, and he was already feeling the tension in his shoulders. Over the last couple of days with her, he thought some pretty fucked up things, but he didn’t let those things settle in and take root. Because they were fucking out of this world ridiculous.

“Alright, fucks, let’s get this meeting started so I can get home to my woman,” Odin grumbled and strode into the room, securely shutting the door behind him. The room was their official conference room, where only the officers gathered during Church meetings. It was soundproofed to prevent anyone from hearing something they shouldn’t, which would have been the case otherwise, since so many civilians came and went through the clubhouse every night.

Odin sat at the head of the table, gripped his gavel, and slammed it against the table.

“Let’s cut the shit and get right to it, yeah?”

Every brother nodded, not wanting to test their prez’s patience.

“Got a call from Stone out in Kingman. He wants to speak face to face.”

“About what?” Grimm asked, his role as club enforcer coming to the fore.

Jagger “Stone” Dutchman was the president of the Stone Cutters MC out of Kingman, Arizona. His MC started near around the same time as Savage Raiders. Unlike the Raiders, however, the Stone Cutters were a little too far over the thin blue line to have much business with the Raiders. Odin liked to keep things as close to legitimate as possible, even going so far as to only doing business with people AFK had already run a check on. And since the shit that went down with Alfanzo Madrigal months ago, the club had completely cut off their ties to the Chavez Cartel, which had been one of their most important protection clients.

“Looks like Chavez is blowing up his phone, wants to sit down and talk business. Stone seems to think that Chavez wants to run his shipments through Kingman, and since the Cutters run that town, the cartel needed to ask nicely.”

Trouble snorted, shaking his head, loose strands of his long blond hair falling from his man bun. “Yeah right, like a hardass like Stone is goin’ to let Chavez run his shit through his territory. That guy has a hard on for drug dealers. Word is, he even cut his own old lady loose when he found out she was dealin’.”

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