Page 40 of Q: Satan's Fury MC

“For someone who’s never been taught, you held your own.”

“Well, I’m nowhere close to being as good as you.”

“This is true,” I teased. “I might be convinced to teach you a few things if you’re interested.”

“Oh, I’m definitely interested.”

“Then, we’ll do it. And when you get better, we’ll have a rematch with your buddy, Caroline, and Hayes.”

“Okay, but no Tequila shots. I don’t want Tequila for a very long time.”

“Understood.”

She thought for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t think of anything else to tell you about myself. It’s not like I have a favorite color or football team.”

“You don’t have a favorite color?”

“Not that I know of, but then again, there’s a lot about myself that I don’t know... Like whether I like cats or dogs, pancakes or waffles, rock or country.”

“Wait.” Intrigued, I eased up on my elbow and looked down at her. “Everyone knows if they’re a cat or dog person.”

“Not me. I’ve never really had a chance to find out.” Her voice grew soft with embarrassment as she admitted, “I’ve never been to the beach. I’ve never been hiking or ridden a motorcycle. I’ve never been to a nightclub or stayed in a fancy hotel. So, I have no idea if I’d like those things or not.”

“Well, we’ve gotta do something about that.”

“Oh, really?” A soft smile slipped across her lips. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Wait and see?”

“That’s right.” I laid back down on the pillow as I told her, “It’s late. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

To my amazement, she didn’t protest. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. It wasn’t long before her breathing slowed, and I knew she’d finally fallen back asleep.

It felt good lying there next to her.

It felt right.

It was a feeling I intended to hold onto.

JULES

They say you should hold on to those who are good to you and forget those who aren’t. I’d tried to do that, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget James or my father. All the awful things they’d said and done still haunted me, and it made it hard to believe that I wasn’t the piece of crap they told me I was. It also made it hard to trust men—all men, so I’d spent the last couple of years avoiding them at all costs.

And then, Q came along.

I’d planned to keep him at arm’s length, but after a night of pool, shots, and a decent amount of flirting, I let him take me home—or so I thought.

Before I realized what was happening, I was in his bathroom, hugging his commode. Needless to say, I was in bad shape. My head was pounding, my stomach was queasy, and I just wanted it to stop. I was on my way back to the living room sofa when I spotted Q’s king-sized bed. It looked so inviting with its thick comforter and oversized pillows.

I ran my hand across the soft fabric, and it just seemed to call out to me. Thinking that I would be okay if I could just lay down for a minute, I pulled off my boots and crawled into his bed. I rested my head on his soft pillowcase, smelling a hint of his cologne, and that’s all it took.

I was out.

I woke up hours later, alone and unsettled, and before I realized what I was doing, I’d called out to Q. We spent the next hour talking, and I couldn’t remember enjoying someone’s company more. I felt like it was a dream. The next morning, I expected to be thrown back into reality, but the dream continued...

“Good morning, sleepy head.” I turned to face the door and found Q standing there with a warm smile on his face. He was already dressed in his jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt, and unlike me, he was clearly ready to start the day. “You hungry?”

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