Page 87 of Asher

His lips whispered against my neck, “Yeah, Doll Baby?”

“Your phone is ringing,” I whispered.

He shrugged, “Don’t give a fuck.”

I moved my neck and locked my eyes with his, “But... it’s probably the club.”

He leaned in and nipped my chin, “Again, I don’t give a fuck. Dreamt about this. With you. The entire world could be falling around us, and I wouldn’t give a fuck.”

Before I could open my mouth, I jumped because there was a bang, bang, bang on the front door, and then we heard, “Pres. Fucking need you.”

Asher growled, carefully lifted me off his lap, and sat me down. Then I watched as he tagged his gun and then stormed to the front door, ripped it open, and pointed it at Trigger.

“Whoa. Pres. What the...” Trigger trailed off.

“Is Stella okay?” Asher asked.

Trigger nodded, “Yeah, Pres. But...”

“Is anyone on the verge of meeting the reaper?” Asher asked.

Trigger shook his head, “Nah. But...”

“Is the clubhouse on fire?” Asher asked.

Trigger, again, shook his head, “Pres. If you’d let me...”

Then in a growling low tone, he said, “Then I don’t give a fuck. I’m with my woman. She fucking comes first.”

I felt a tingle between my legs at his words and his tone.

Sweet baby Jesus.

Trigger held his hands up in a placating manner, “Pres. I got you. Okay. I do. But you told us that if a certain group of people ever showed back up, you wanted to be notified immediately.”

I watched Asher’s face.

And saw that he had locked his jaw.

This wasn’t good.

Whatever it was.

Then I watched as his shoulders dropped.

At that, I called out, “Honey?”

Asher twisted his neck to look at me, his face softening.

“It’s okay. I got a report I need to work on. You go handle business; I’ll be here when you get done.”

He bit out, “This shit isn’t okay.”

I could see he was struggling.

He wanted to keep the promise he made to me.

That I would always come before the club.

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