Page 62 of Ruined (The Knights of Ruin)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Smoke

ASSOONAS I finished up the meeting I’d had with Keep—some shit to do with problems with The Demon’s Share—I walked straight out of the clubhouse and headed for my Harley, impatience gnawing a hole in my gut.

It was near 5:00 p.m., and if that meeting meant I couldn’t get to the jeweller before the store closed I was going to be pissed.

I had something important to pick up. Something I wanted to give to Cat.

It had been nearly two weeks since we’d got together, and living with her had only cemented the certainty deep inside me.

She was mine—every part of her. Her long glossy dark hair and her big green eyes. Her hot little pussy and her delicious tits. The way she kissed me when she came home from her day job and the way she snuggled up to me on the sofa as we watched TV. The way she unconsciously touched me and let her hand linger, trailing over my chest or my abs or my shoulders, as if she couldn’t keep her hands off me.

She’d told me that morning after the club party that I’d ruined her. Well, she’d ruined me back.

Before, I buried my craving for her in other women, because I knew she’d never want me the way I wanted her. And I’d been okay with that. I’d handled it the only way I could.

But now I had her. Now I knew how she tasted when I kissed her mouth, when I pushed my tongue into her pussy. Now I knew how it felt to be balls-deep inside her, to have her legs wound around my waist and screaming my name in my ear.

Now I knew how good it was to have her curl up in my arms and put her head on my chest and fall asleep, as if she was safe, as if she trusted me completely...

Yeah, she’d ruined me.

There would be no one else for me.

That morning we’d had an argument about me handling her bills, paying her rent for the month, and then I’d made the mistake of mentioning that maybe we should find a new place to live. She’d been pissy, reminding me that this arrangement wasn’t supposed to be permanent and that she wasn’t going anywhere until the threat to Annie from Justin had been sorted out.

Except the ‘arrangement’ was permanent for me. This was real and it always had been.

I wanted to tell her there and then what I was planning—I’d been waiting because I wanted to give her some time to get used to having me around—but she’d cut me off because she had to go to work, telling me we’d talk about it tonight.

She was still scared. I could see it in her eyes. She was still doubting me—doubting us. So I decided to pay extra to get the ring I’d had made for her finished that day. It would be proof of my commitment to her—my promise that I’d never leave her. That she was stuck with me for good.

What if she doesn’t want to be stuck with you?

I revved the Harley, the thought making me growl like the bike.

Too bad. She was mine, and I wasn’t letting her go.

Picking up the ring from the jeweller didn’t take long, and then I was on my way back to Cat’s apartment. She was already home. I could hear her in the kitchen on the phone as I walked in, talking to the sitter who looked after Annie after school on the days I wasn’t able to.

My pulse started doing crazy shit. The ring was burning a hole in the pocket of my jeans, what-ifs were spinning in my head, and I found myself pacing around the room trying to calm myself the fuck down.

The territorial biker in me was never going to let her go, regardless of what she wanted, but there was another part of me—the friend—that wanted her to want that, too. That wanted her to put on my ring and tell me that she’d stay with me forever.

‘Hey.’

I looked up at the sound of her voice to find her standing in the doorway, wearing that little black pencil skirt and the green blouse, black heels on her feet. My favourite outfit. Her gaze was wary—clearly she still remembered our argument from that morning.

Raising a hand, she pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, releasing her silky black hair down around her shoulders.

My fingers itched to bury themselves in it, to take it in my fist and pull her head back, kiss her throat, bite her. Leave a mark on her smooth skin. I fucking loved having my marks on her, showing the civilian world that she was taken, that she was mine.

But first things first.

I stopped pacing, thrust my hands in my pockets, curling my fingers around the ring box.

‘Hey,’ I said.

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