Page 49 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

It’s a dark,primal urge that becomes harder to fight the longer I endure this cocktail or pregnancy hormones. Deacon makes it even harder when he lavishes me with kisses before pulling out of me. He kisses my back and then my ass andthen he whispers. “You are everything, Keyshawn. I love you.”

The words spillout before I even realize what I’m saying.

“I love you, Deacon.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m lucky I found you before you got on your knees for anyone else.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Deacon

Keyshawn is twenty-six weeks along. I wanted to wait until she had the baby, but I can’t wait any longer. I have to ask her to marry me. It’s not because I have a uniquely traditional mind, but because I need every possible way of securing Keyshawn to my side forever. The closer she gets to giving birth, the more terrified I become. It won’t just be her that I have to look after in a few weeks. I’ll soon havetwoliving creatures with strong wills under my roof.

At this stage in the pregnancy, Keyshawn doesn’t argue as much. She sprawls out on the couch with some spicy popcorn and episodes of her new reality television binge –Love Is Blind. I have to get everything done today to have the element of surprise over Keyshawn.

Oske keeps ignoring my messages, which is annoying, because I normally pay her to run errands for me. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s honest. Unfortunately, she appears to have disappeared – most likely doing some job for Southpaw.

Keyshawn is important enough to make today’s embarrassing meeting worth it. Ruger and his old lady are sitting up waiting for me when I get to the casino. Ruger twirls one ofZayna’s curls around his finger as she rests her head on his shoulders. They whisper to each other so quietly it’s like they’re speaking their own language. Zayna sits up when I walk into the bar.

“Hi Deacon,” she says. “Ruger says you need advice on women. Which I don’t believe for a second, by the way. So do you mind telling me what his crazy ass has planned for me?”

“Baby, I’m not crazy,” Ruger whispers, kissing her neck and licking it a little bit. I clear my throat, not like I expect Ruger to actually give a fuck.

“He’s not lying. I’m… planning a wedding.”

“To who? I haven’t met all the biker chicks around this place.”

“You don’t need to meet anybody else,” Ruger chimes in. Zayna playfully swats his hand away from her hair, clearly intrigued by the mention of wedding planning. She would get along with Keyshawn, who I constantly have to pry away from these horribleDon’t Tell The Bridereruns. I don’t know how she got that TV to pick up British channels, but those accents are annoying.

“Right…” I grumble. “I can pick out a wedding ring, but I need help finding a puppy.”

Zayna looks worried. “Not for a weird sacrifice or anything…”

“No. Don’t mistake me for Bucky.”

“Hey,” Ruger chimes in, wrapping his arm around Zayna more possessively. “She can help find a puppy. What type?”

We splitup after discussing our plan for finding all the materials I need for my wedding proposal. Neither Zayna, nor Ruger has heard from Oske recently, which I find troubling. I spend my day visiting rival small town jewelers untilI find the perfect ring for Keyshawn – a custom design that they create within a couple hours. When I meet up with Ruger and Zayna at the casino, they have the rest of my treats for Keyshawn ready for me to take home. Ruger chose the flowers, which are gorgeous and as expensive as I demanded. Zayna told me he chose the best flowers, and she’s correct.

The puppy is in a large pink gift box with holes in it and a large pink ribbon.

“He’s a Cavapoo,”Zayna says.

“A what?”

“It’s one of those dogs women love,” Ruger says. “Small. Fluffy.”

“You asked if we could get one this year,” Zayna says calling out Ruger who turns bright fucking red as Zayna looks downright confused by his statement.

“I would never do that,” Ruger says, lying through his teeth. “I only like men’s dogs, baby. Pit Bulls. That sort of thing”

Zayna rolls her eyes . “You asked for a Cavapoo, Ruger.”

“Baby…” Ruger murmurs, putting his arm around her waist again. “No need to lie on my name in front of Deacon. Hush...”

I know she isn’t lying, especially when that squeeze around Zayna’s waist gets extra tight and somewhat threatening.

“Thanks for your help.”

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