Page 59 of Flint

“Better than a cougar attack, huh?” I love that I can make him smile. It’s the best feeling, and he looks damn sexy every time he does it. Especially with the rumpled sheets and the bare chest thing going for him. Did I forget to mention he’s got just enough hair sprinkled on his chest that it’s sexy as fuck? Add in the tattoos he has randomly placed, and you’ve got yourself a mega hottie just lying beside you. Within reach, might I add. “And the fact that no one knew who I was, not really, got me placed on the need for a babysitter list?”

“Actually, the fact that you ran over the guy who was involved in the kidnapping of Bulldog and everything was the factor. You saved Izzy, which is all Bulldog ever wanted. He owes you for that. Hence, I’m the payment.”

I shake my head in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“I help you get your memory back, your life, and I keep mine, since you saved Izzy’s life.”

“So, like, a life for a life… for a life?”

He smiles softly and nods once. “Something like that.”

“Does that mean I get to keep you for as long as I have no memory?”

“No. The boys voted. I’m back.”

“Oh.” Oh shit. Oh shit. I’ve never been afraid before. Or at least I don’t remember if I have been or not. This is the first time I’ve felt it since I woke up at the base of the hill. I’m afraid what this means for us now.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not sticking around,” he adds.

I won’t take the bait. I won’t let hope overtake what he’s saying. I need to focus and be sure I understand what he’s talking about. “Till I get my memories?”

“A lot longer than that, if you’ll have me.”

Okay, shit just got real. Did everyone else feel the world stop, or was it just me? It almost feels like I won the lottery, but I’m not sure how to play this. Do I act like it’s not a big thing and go all gangster and say, “Yeah, boy, I got this”? Or do I show my fear and excitement and run around in a circle because I have no idea which way is up right now? Of course, the third option, and my favorite, is to question.

“Hmm, what’s in it for me?”

He closes his eyes as if in pain and rubs his face before he grins. “Fucking hell, Kitten. Never saying what I’m expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” I grin, too, because I can’t help it.

He shrugs as he moves closer and kisses my forehead. “Don’t know, just not that.”

He smiles, and it’s a good kind this time. I can tell, and doesn’t that say something about how far we’ve come in such a short time? “So what are you bringing to the table, big guy?”

“Other than this?” He wiggles, and I giggle and suppress a moan at how good his dick can still feel even if it’s only semihard and rubbing against my clit.

“Well, I expect that. Actually, it’s an absolute must-have. If no kissy kissy, bang bang, then this whole deal is off.”

“Trust me, you won’t be lacking in that department.” He almost rolls his eyes at me. As if such a thing is too crazy to even suggest.

“Perfect.” I kiss him quickly, then pull away. “What else?”

He just laughs. “Well, the club, obviously. They go where I go. But it’ll be different now with you as my old lady. The boys will respect you more. Not that you have any say in the club life, but it’s just different than it was.”

“So instead of being a chore to follow around all day, it would be an honor, like with Maddy and Izzy.”

“Yup. Prospects got to prove themselves, and the best way to do that is to make sure nothing happens to our property.”

“I take it old ladies are considered property?”

“Yeah.” He turns a bit away and rubs his face again. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get that the term sounds archaic, but it’s club life, Kitten. We got a history, and part of what makes our club work is that we keep to some traditions while others get weeded out. We respect those who earn it. A man can have property, and if you respect that man, you respect their property.”

I shake my head as I lean over him so he sees I’m not just saying words to make him happy. That I really mean it. “I wasn’t going to give you a hard time about it. Just wanted to make sure I got the lingo right. Never been an old lady before, or I don’t think I have. Do we get matching tattoos now too? What about shirts? Or hats? I look pretty good in hats.”

He gives me a soft smile that makes me glow. “Most old ladies don’t get the tats.”

“Why?”

---