Page 70 of Bullet

Holy fuck.Nine?

Lynette sits down on the bed beside me, pulling her legs up and crossing her arms over them. “These past few weeks have been hard and exhausting in every way. Physically and mentally.” My hands are on the top of the covers, near my lap, and she takes my right in both of hers. She runs her finger down the back, tracing scars, ink, and veins. “I’ve noticed that you look tired, Bullet. Willa pointed it out to me too. We’re both concerned that you’re not sleeping or eating properly, and that’s important.”

I feel even more disheveled, having this conversation in my boxers, with morning breath and probably sheet creases on my face. “Looking after me now too?”

Lynette’s jaw hardens. “Damn right I am. Don’t tell me you don’t need it. That’s the point of this. We’re looking out for each other now.”

“Oh? You’re going to let me take care of you?”

She doesn’t falter, not even for a second, which swells my chest with warmth, pride, and wonder. “I’m really going to make an effort to try. But that’s what a partnership is. You might be the man, but you don’t have to do all the protecting. I’m fierce too.” She swallows loudly. “I’m going to make an effort to be more open about what I’m feeling and thinking, especially with you and Willa. You’ll both have to be patient with me. It’ll be a slow adjustment.”

I don’t know how to respond. I’m overwhelmed with emotion, the thickness clogging my throat. Lynette squeezes my hand then lets go and spins to get me a muffin.

“Let me take care of the not eating part.” She pretty much shoves it into my face. I swallow as much as I can, but still am only able to bite into half. Crumbs fall all over the white comforter.

Lynette hates mess. I’m prepared for her eyes to get twitchy with annoyance, but she laughs, leans in, and licks cream cheese off my lips before nibbling at the half-devoured muffin.

“Mmm,” she purrs, stirring my cock fully to life, heating my blood to animalistic passion in two seconds flat. “I outdid myself with these.” I’m captivated by watching her eat, which I can do openly now without feeling like an asshole. “Oh, your phone rang over an hour ago. It was on the couch. It kept ringing and ringing and so I answered it. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.” I definitely still want to keep some club business from her, but as for secrets? I have nothing to hide, and I want it to remain that way.

“It was Tyrant, I told him you were sleeping. He knew you were still here because Wizard didn’t see you leave on thecameras.” A blush like deep wine spills over her cheeks and down her neck. “Did you tell anyone you were going out for a ride last night?”

“Just Smoke, but we didn’t have anything going on at the club. If they couldn’t find me and needed me, they probably knew where to look.”

“Right. This probably falls under the worst kept secret category.”

“Or the longest awaited first date.”

She still has a quarter of the muffin in her hand, so I guide it to my mouth and devour it. I lick her fingers and kiss her palm. She’s so fucking sweet. I’m never going to have my fill of her.

“Tyrant was calling you to ask me if I’d be able to come in this afternoon and meet with the club. He made sure I knew there’s still no obligation to take the job. I still want to.”

Her lashes flutter shut, her breaths shallowing out as I keep kissing her hand and push back her sleeve so I can set my lips against her wrist.

“After the meeting, we can set up a training schedule for you. Not for lawyer stuff, but for self-defense. I’m gonna teach you how to shoot, and how to defend yourself. I’m not gonna get complacent now that the threat of Harold appears to be over. Only an imbecile would turn you loose into the world knowing full well that I won’t be there to watch you every single second. I want you to have your freedom. I don’t want to smother your light. I want to enhance it and make it burn brighter.”

“You’re a romantic.”

I scoff, but she nods hard, trying to convince me.

“You’re sweet. Under that raw, roughness, you’re a biker and a soldier with a heart of gold. You can still love guns and talk about showing me how to keep myself safe and it sounds like the most beautiful poetry in the world. Bullet poetry.”

I slip my hand under her shirt, running my palm over the warm skin of her belly. She’s toned and muscular from all the yoga, but still a thousand times softer than I am.

I roll over her, placing open-mouthed kisses over her hipbones and around her belly button. “I just want to make sure you know this isn’t about control or changing you.”

She wriggles under me, spreading her legs to make a cradle for my hips. “I’ve already changed. My mind. My heart. My life. I didn’t realize how lonely and empty it was. Ambition isn’t growth. It’s just drive, but you can be driving towards nothing.”

I want to say the right thing to reassure her, feed my biker poetry straight to her soul, but she saves me from having to humiliate myself. Right now, all I’ve got is that she’s a thousand times sweeter than those muffins, and that’s bad pickup line worthy.

She tucks her arms around me, sliding down so her face is level with my chest. “Your ink is beautiful.”

Honestly, it could have been better. It has been, since I started going to Crow’s shop here. He has some good artists working for him, and he did my back. I don’t have a single theme like he does, where it’s all traditional, or like Raiden and Tyrant do, with their realism. It’s a jumbled-up mix and there are more than afew coverups in there where the ink is so dark it’s pretty much just a black blob, but Lynette looks at me like I’m gallery worthy.

Her pink tongue peeks out, sweeping along her lower lip before she licks straight down my pecs, humming at the taste. “Mmm. Salt and man.”

“Sounds like a disgusting combination.”

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