Page 19 of Hellfire's Mercy

I nod against his chest.

"Better than okay." I lift my head to look at him. "Is this going to complicate things?"

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"Sweetheart, things were complicated the moment you hid behind that dumpster. This... this just means I have even more reason to keep you safe."

I should probably be worried about what that means for my story, for my career. But right now, wrapped in the arms of this dangerous man who makes me feel so protected, I can't bring myself to care.

"Do you regret it?" he asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.

"No," I answer without hesitation. "But..." I bite my lip, wondering how to phrase this.

"But what, sweetheart?"

"What does this mean? For us?" I force myself to meet his eyes. "Surely a biker like you wouldn't want to make a young journalist your old lady. Besides… I don’t even know your real name or why you’re called Hellfire."

He shakes his head, something like disappointment crossing his face.

"You think that lowly of me? Think I'd take your virginity and bounce? And I hate saying my real name, but it’s Cole. And Hellfire? Let’s just say that I usually leave my enemies begging for a second to breathe. Sometimes with my fists, sometimes with fire."

"No!" I protest quickly even though hearing him talking about torturing others is scary, "I just... I don't expect you to stay and act all lovey-dovey with me, either, you know? And, thank you. For protecting me. For being honest with me."

A smile tugs at his lips.

"You're right about that part. I'm not the flowers and poetry type." His hand cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek. "But that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere. I'm here to stay, to protect you. Whatever happens after... happens. I've never been one to run from complicated situations, sweetheart. Never will be."

I wrap my arms around him – or try to, at least. His torso is too broad for me to reach all the way around.

"What about the Outlaws article?"

"Write it," he says firmly. "But in the meantime..." He shifts, pulling me closer. "Maybe you'd consider moving to the Clubhouse for a while."

I lift my head to look at him. "The Clubhouse?"

"It's where Angel and I live. The first floor is the bar and the office, but the upper floor's our home." His expression turns serious. "No one would dare try anything there. Not with me around. Not after last time."

“You want me to move in with you?"

"I want you safe," he corrects, but his eyes say something more. "The Outlaws will figure out you're investigating them eventually. When they do, I want you somewhere they can't touch you."

I should probably think this through more carefully. Moving in with a biker I just met, leaving my apartment, my independence... But looking into those amber eyes, feeling his protective embrace, I already know my answer.

"Okay," I whisper.

His eyebrows lift in surprise. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." I trace one of his scars again. "I trust you, remember?"

He growls low in his throat, rolling us over suddenly so he's on top of me again.

"Dangerous thing to say to a man like me, sweetheart."

I feel him hardening against my thigh. "Maybe I like dangerous."

"Good," he says, lowering his head to my neck. "Because you're about to get a lot more of it."

As his lips and hands start exploring my body again, I realize I've crossed more than just one line tonight. I've stepped fully into his world, and somehow… It feels exactly where I belong.

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