Page 10 of Sean Collins

Elora scowls at me, crossing her arms underneath her breasts, causing them to heave up over the top of her dress. I rip my eyes from the creamy mounds and focus on her eyes. I see the sparkle there, as well as the small grin on her lips.

“You did that on purpose,” I accuse her.

She shrugs, and I shake my head and chuckle. The more time I spend with Elora, the more I want to be with her.

“What did you do with our assets?” I ask as the waitress delivers our drinks.

Elora takes a sip of her bourbon on the rocks – her choice of beverage – and smiles. “They are in a safe location. I have every intention of returning it all to you if you allow me to talk to your friend.”

I stare at her for a moment. "You stole from me, and now you want a favor. You can see how awkward this is for me, right? The other club members might not take so kindly to this arrangement.”

She lets out a sigh. "Alright, alright. I misjudged your MC, okay? You are not what I thought you are. From everything I have found, you have really gone straight."

"Thank you for that. For some strange reason, your opinion is becoming to mean a lot to me."

Elora looks at me with those cool, assessing eyes, as if gauging if I meant my statement or not.

"Look, let's table all this for now and just enjoy our dinner. There will be plenty of time to hash out the rest after we eat. Deal?" I ask.

Something flashes behind her expressive eyes before she nods. As if on cue, the waiter comes and takes our orders.

When the man is gone, Elora starts throwing her questions at me again. “So, what is your family like? Why did you want to legitimize your businesses? What do you do for fun in your spare time? “

I laugh and take a sip of my drink. "Do you always ask this many questions?"

She blushes and looks down at the table. "I'm sorry. I spend a lot of time alone or just talking to my team on the phone or through my earpiece. You don't have to answer all of them."

I shrug and wave a hand dismissively. "My parents already passed away. My father was the former president of the Steel Kings. When he died, one of the members stepped up and took my brother Creed and I under his wing. He was a good man and is one of the reasons why I want to go clean with the club. I am tired of the collateral damage of all the bodies piling up behind us. We can still be badass bikers without having to kill or sell drugs. We prove that by making great money with our legitimate businesses.”

“Was it hard to get the other guys’ approval?”

I shake my head. "Nah. Like I told you before, a lot of them are starting to settle down. They don't want to have to worry about their illegal dealings coming back to haunt them."

Elora’s eyes darken with pain, and I know she is thinking of her parents. I move on to a lighter subject. “You asked what I do for fun. Well, I don’t do fun. Running the club is my life.”

"There is no one special in your life, then?" she asks, trying to sound casual as the waiter returns with our dinner.

We start to eat, and I let that last question hang in the air for a minute, watching Elora squirm at the thought of another woman at my side. Then, I swallow and then smile at her. "No, I don't have anyone special in my life. There really hasn't been anyone who has caught my eye." I give her a look that says, “Until now.”

Elora pushes her half-eaten plate aside and rubs her stomach. "That was good, but the portions are huge."

Music drifts towards me, and I look over at a small dance floor on one side of the restaurant. A few couples are already swaying to the slow song, and it gives me an idea.

I stand up and hold my hand out to her. "Dance with me, Elora,” I say.

She frowns. "I thought we were going to talk business after dinner."

"Dance with me, and then we can talk business." I continue to hold my hand out, willing Elora to take it. I want to feel her body pressed against mine and smell the sweet scent of her hair.

After a long moment, Elora takes my hands and lets me lead her to the dance floor. I wrap an arm around her and pull her close. She doesn't resist, telling me she wants this as much as I do.

Chapter Thirteen

Elora

The more time I spend with S.C., the more the high walls around my heart shake. They haven’t crumbled yet, but if he continues to treat me less like a thief and more like a woman he is interested in, they are bound to fall. I know he is protecting me from his MC; they are probably fantasizing about putting me in a cage or burying me in a shallow grave right now. After all, breaching their security protocols and stealing from them are dealbreakers. Still, S.C. doesn’t seem to be concerned about that – or at least not nearly as much as he should be. As we sway to the music, I can’t help but get closer to him and inhale the intoxicating scent of leather and aftershave. It is uniquely his – one that will haunt my dreams later tonight.

Shaking myself out of the sexual haze I find myself falling into, I continue to question S.C. “Tell me why you have connections to the mafia.”

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