Page 35 of Pulse

“Talia, you should be sitting.” He started for her, but she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Listen to me. Curly is a good man. He will underst—”

“No.” He stared at the ceiling as he inhaled. “There’s nothing Curly hates more than cops. Feds are cops on steroids. I’ve been lying since the day he met me. He’ll kill me. Hell, I’ll be lucky if he kills me. Most likely, he’ll sic Spec on me, and I’ll be tortured for a few weeks before they kill me.”

“He accepts Tracker’s ol’ lady, Jo. Maybe it would be the same for you.”

Jo was a former cop in their town who’d quit the force due to corruption in the department.

“You know it’s not the same.”

“Pulse…” The pleading in her eyes almost had him giving in.

But he couldn’t.

He shook his head. “I can’t, Talia. I can’t… do that to them.”

The truth was he didn’t care what they did to him. Joining the MC with his history always held an enormous risk—one he’dbeen willing to take. He’d gone looking for a family to replace what he’d had during his undercover time with the cartel. What he found blew that experience out of the water. He and his brothers were tight in a way he’d never experienced. He’d die for any one of them. Even as he held himself at a distance emotionally, he could be himself around them.

In all ways except one.

Talia studied him without speaking. What was she thinking? Would she announce that she planned to tell Curly despite his wishes? He wouldn’t blame her. Curly paid her to represent the club. No one man was above the club. She’d be well within her rights to tell Curly everything they discussed. She’d be a fool not to.

“Okay,” she said after the silence grew almost too heavy to endure. “We’ll try it your way. For now.”

“We?”

She nodded with a crooked half smile. “They say two heads are better than one, right?”

“I don’t want you involved, Talia.”

Her huff of laughter rang hollow. She reached for the stitches on her forehead. “I’m in it now. I don’t scare easily, Pulse, and I’ve always fought for what I believed. It’s important to me. You can try pushing me out, but I won’t go easily.”

His admiration for this woman, already high, grew with every word she spoke. “Okay. You can help me under one condition.”

One eyebrow rose in what he recognized as her warning signal. A skeptical watch-what-you-say cautionary look. It was sexy as hell and fierce as fuck—two phrases that described Talia perfectly. He couldn’t help but smile in return.

He folded his arms across his chest. “You sit back down and don’t get up for the rest of the day.”

Talia narrowed her eyes. Her hip popped to the side as she rested her hand on it. “Are you telling me what to do?”

He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. If he let this play out much longer, his mouth would end up bloody, but he couldn’t resist having a little fun with her. He advanced into her personal space, stopping only when he was close enough, she had to lift her chin to maintain eye contact. Pulse might not be the tallest in the group at six feet, but he still had at least five inches on Talia.

“That a problem?”

Her mouth opened and closed. She blinked. A sound nearing a squawk left her. Pulse bit his cheek harder. He could feel the waves of indignation rolling off her and smacking into him. She was stuck. Her instinct was to tell him to shove his demand up his ass, but on the flip side, she knew she should be sitting and resting.

“It is,” she ended up saying even as she turned and strode to the couch. “I’ll sit. Not because you told me to but because it’s the smart thing to do.”

Well, shit. Why was that sass so hot? Would she be like this in bed? Would she fight for control and channel all that independence into passion? Would she try to run the show? Or would she go the opposite way and hand over control to give her mind a rest? Fuck, either of those would be fine by him.

He shifted as his cock thickened in his jeans. If she noticed, she’d likely castrate him.

Syringes.

Stethoscopes.

Bedpans.

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