Page 47 of Maverick

“There’s been another woman you claimed was yours that wasn’t?”

Maverick lifted a shoulder. “Last time I was here, I had a date. No, I didn’t follow the rules. I only said it with no proof. Found out they were more serious about this shit than my last club. Yeah, I was challenged.”

“What happened to the woman you claimed?”

Maverick looked down, smiling shyly. “Well, you met her. Bonbon. She wasn’t really mine. I wouldn’t do what it took to keep her, anyway. She hangs at the club now.”

“Yikes,” I said. But I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “It’s just… I’ve read about all this in my MC romances, but experiencing it is something else.”

A flicker of interest lit his gaze. “Yeah... So, tell me. What do they say about claiming a woman, about being someone’s property?”

I swallowed, trying to recall all the tropes. “They say, usually, the biker claims her in front of the whole club, might give her a cut with a property patch, or a tattoo marking her as his. Some stories mention branding or forcibly tattooing. In others, it’s more consensual but still intense. Sometimes the women are thrilled, sometimes they’re reluctant.” I gave a half-laugh. “I’m sure it’s a lot more romantic on paper or scary, depending.”

Maverick met my eyes. “Well, it’s not all romance out here. But yeah, that’s basically how it goes. I could prove it in front of my brothers. Fuck you out in the club. Give them a show. Or you get a property patch, some ink, you become off-limits to other bikers. The club protects you as one of their own. So, if you fuck with her, you fuck with the entire MC.”

I bit my lip, anxiety creeping in. “So… is that what you’re suggesting I do?”

He shifted on the bed, leaning closer, the mattress dipping. “I can't watch over you around the clock, Lexi. I have to leave, gather intel, maybe chase down leads. If you’re gonna stay here, I need to ensure you’re safe.” He brushed his knuckles over my cheek, voice softening. “That means an official mark of belonging, so no one questions your status.Anyquestion about you being fair game could get you hurt. Or worse.”

I tensed. “You mean, if I don’t do it, they might… they might?”

He exhaled, frustration evident. “I won’t let it happen. But I can’t be here every second.”

“You’re suggesting I should get a tattoo? Marking me as your property?”

“That’s how it works. Doesn’t have to be big or showy. Just enough that the club sees you as one of ours.”

This was happening too fast.I barely know him.We’d kissed a few times, sure, but a permanent ink brand. That was insane. “I’m freaking out,” I admitted, hearing my voice tremble.

“Hey, Princess,” He took my hand, lacing our fingers together. “They can remove tattoos now if you really want it gone later. Just… for now, it’s the best way.”

My eyes fluttered closed, tears threatening. “It’s too much. We’ve barely kissed, we’re not even… we’re not lovers. And now I’m supposed to brand my body with your name? Or the club’s name?”

He studied me, his brow creasing. “Lexi, I need this. I can’t concentrate on hunting down these bastards if I’m scared shitless that you’re one step away from being assaulted, or worse. Please.”

A heavy silence followed. I could almost hear my anxiety. He lifted my wrist, bringing it to his mouth, kissing the pulse point there, a soft, persuasive kiss.

“Please,” he repeated. And he licked my wrist.

I looked into his eyes, seeing genuine concern and something else. Regret, maybe, at having to ask this. My throat tightened. “Fine,” I croaked. “I’ll do it.”

His gaze flickered with relief. “Thank you.”

I tried to breathe through the panic. “But I want it small. Somewhere I can cover it up easily. I get to decide, all right?”

“Deal.” A smile curved his lips. “I’ll arrange it.”

Chapter 26

Not ten minutes later, we were in another room deeper in the clubhouse, a small, windowless space that smelled of disinfectant and cigarette smoke. Taz was there, setting up a tattoo station that consisted of a swivel chair, a tray of ink bottles, and a buzzing machine. I was going to be sick. I’d never had a tattoo, never even considered it.

Maverick’s hand was on my back. “Think about where you want it,” he murmured in my ear. “Something that says ‘Property of Maverick’ and just the Road Monsters' patch.”

Taz looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Hey, man. Let’s do a small property patch. She’s new to this.” He shot me a reassuring grin that did little to calm my racing heart. “Where’s it going?”

I hesitated, glancing down at my arms, my legs. Maverick made a low sound, stepping up behind me, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt. “Here,” he said, lifting the fabric just a bit, exposing my navel.

Heat flooded my face. “Maverick…” I started to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced me.

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