Page 29 of Trick's Elite

“You keep hiding shit from me. You’ve had my phone this entire time?”

His head fell back, and he stared at the ceiling for a long moment before he looked at her again. “I thought you knew about it after you woke me up with your knife to my throat. I didn’t realize that you hadn’t found it until I went to get socks from the drawer this morning and felt it still wrapped up in there. I wasn’t intentionally keeping it from you.” He gave her one of those fucking sexy half-smiles she loved and held out a hand to her. “Come here.”

Not willing to let chocolate go to waste, she shoved the other cup into her mouth and dropped the wrapper in the trash bin before she crossed the room and took his hand. She allowed him to pull her close and onto his lap, straddling it.

As she chewed her chocolate treat, he cupped her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes. “When I said I was putting my trust in you, I meant that. For weeks, I have trusted you with my life, my club, my family. You know a lot about me and the people I care about. You could use that to hurt me, but Itrustthat you won’t. If you want your phone, you know where it is. You can go through this entire cabin. I don’t care. I trust you.” He fisted his hands in the hair on the back of her head and used it to pull her close. Against her lips, he whispered, “I. Trust. You.”

She was barely able to swallow her chocolate before he took her mouth in a deep kiss. As it always did, his kiss stole her thoughts and wiped away every complaint she had. Sooner than she would have liked, he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers.

She pouted a bit. “Why did you stop?”

“I wasn’t about to assume you’d be in the mood right now,” he replied.

“I forgive you,” she replied and yanked her tee over her head. “Besides, I haven’t started yet.”

The wide grin on his face told her their fight was officially over. “That wouldn’t stop me, Stiletto.”

Resting together in the bed, where Trick had carried her to after he made sure she knew exactly howall-inhe was with their relationship. She lifted her head from his chest and looked into his eyes. “Why do you keep calling me Stiletto? I don’t think you’ve called me Messer or Stella since you said it the first time.”

Trick had both of his hands behind his head, making the muscles of his arms bulge. She wanted to lift up and bite them, but instead, she just waited for him to answer.

For a long moment, he didn’t do anything but untuck one of those hands so he could play with her hair. Then he calmly said, “In biker culture, when you’re accepted, they give you a nickname… a name that comes from a place of respect, love, bonding. It’s important, almost as important as the colors.” He must have clocked her confusion, because he clarified, “The back patches of my cut. The top and bottom are rockers. The logo patches are colors.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah, so they are important.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and ran the back of his knuckles along her cheek. “When we find the women we want to spend our life with, we give them names. Like Rock’s woman is Diamond. Her real name is Mary, but she’s been through hell and came out stronger. So, she’s Diamond. Rock gave her that name, and we call her that because in our culture, it’s a sign of respect. I call you Stiletto, so my brothers will, too. It’s the way they claim you as part of the family. It’s the way they respect me by respecting you. It’s how they honor us as a couple. But that doesn’t generally happen until after the table vote.”

Stella rolled on top of him and folded her hands under her chin. “Table vote?”

“You’re my mate, but that’s the shifter part. The biker part is Ol’ Lady. An Ol’ Lady is the woman who is our partner, our spouse, our everything. It means more than wife. It’s the highest honored position a woman can be in when her spouse is in a club. A man can have a girlfriend without giving her that title. Same with a wife.”

“But… how?”

Trick shrugged. “Few reasons. If her man doesn’t take it up at the table. If her man wants to keep his club life from his home life. Or… her man brought it to the table and someone in the club voted no. It has to be a unanimous vote… for the Howlers, anyway. Once you get that unanimous vote, you get your Ol’ Lady cut, or property patch, and don’t start with the bullshit about women not being property. It’s just a fucking term.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “A man’s Ol’ Lady belongs to him, but he belongs to her, too. Anyway, on your Ol’ Lady cut, there will be a patch. When we get to that point, yours will say Stiletto. The guys will call you that. The entire family will call you that.”

“I know I put the knife to your throat, but why Stiletto?”

Trick grinned, then he chuckled. “Once the anger and fear passed, it was hot as fuck. Like women wearing heels or your knife, you are sexy but deadly.”

Stella laughed, shaking her head. The man was a little unhinged if he thought putting a knife to his throat was hot. “Heels are sexy, but they aren’t deadly.”

A look crossed his face that she didn’t really understand, then he said, “When you get to know Butterfly, ask her how deadly heels can be.”

Taking in everything he said, Stella started tracing his tattoos with her fingertip. She didn’t know how long they laid there like that, but eventually, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up until they were eye to eye.

“What?” she asked softly.

He lifted his head and pressed his lips to hers. After a gentle kiss, he pulled back. “Want to go for a ride?”

“Yes.” Stella slid off him and started grabbing clothes out of the tote. She didn’t even care what they were. She just put them on as quickly as she could, excited to get out of the cabin for a while.

Chapter Sixteen

Five weeks later… Stella

Sittingonthebed,pretending to read one of her books, Stella watched Trick out the window. He was pacing the front porch with the phone to his ear. When it rang, he had looked at the screen, quickly stood, and went out to the porch, closing the door behind him before he answered the call. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that. Hell, it wasn’t even the fifth time.

At first, she chalked it up to calls with his family or the club. After a while, she realized that most of the calls he received, including those calls, he took them in front of her. He didn’t always share what was said on the other end of the line, but he didn’t act like she was the enemy.

---