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Even just the idea of that made my walls tighten. "Nuh-uh," he said, seeming to pick up on my reaction. "Not this morning. This morning, I have chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream, potatoes, and coffee to buy you."

Lips curving up as I scooted closer, reaching out to run my hand up his thigh, I countered, "I can do without pancakes. Come back to bed..."

He was shaking his head even before I finished speaking. "Nope." My hand shifted inward, gliding over the crotch of his jeans. "Fuck," he growled, and I thought I had him. But then his hand closed over mine, his fingers lacing inward. "I got a promise to keep," he told me, shrugging.

I felt my brows drawing together. "You're going to turn down sex for a promise?"

"Can fuck you another time, Lenny. But I only got one chance to keep my first promise to you."

"It's a silly-" I started, but he cut me off.

"It's not silly. It's fucking important because it proves that if I am this dedicated to a minor promise, that I will move mountains to keep the big ones."

There was a tightening sensation in my chest that I didn't have a name for, but it felt important.

Sensing a shift, and maybe not wanting me to overthink it, he gave my hand a squeeze, and when my eyes met his again, they were dancing. "If you eat fast, I'll take you back to your place... and eat you slow."

There was no stopping the smile that pulled at my lips at that. "Well, I think I can make that happen."

"Alright, get dressed," he said, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it to point to a folded pile of my clothes.

I reached for them, finding a dryer sheet between my pants and shirt. "Did you wash them?"

"I get up early," was the only explanation I got as he moved toward the door that led to the hall. "I gotta go talk to the prez for a few. Just come on out when you're ready."

I waited for him to close the door fully then hopped up, making my way to the bathroom where I found an extra towel, and a toothbrush still in the wrapping. I decided against the shower, brushed my teeth, finger-combed my hair, then got into my clothes that were still slightly warm from the dryer. I made my way out into the hall, hearing a chorus of male voices, some of which I recognized from the night before. Most prominently, I could hear Adler's distinctive accent, likely saying something characteristically sarcastic. I could hear Edison as well, talking to someone with a deep, smooth voice.

"Couple hours."

"And I told you I needed you here."

Uh-oh.

He was in trouble.

"Reign, everyone else is—"

"Doing what they're supposed to."

Maybe he wanted to keep his promise, but I didn't want him to get into trouble with an outlaw biker president to make it happen.

"Hey," I called, making all the heads in the room - several more than were there the night before - turn to me. "It's okay. You can get me pancakes some other morning," I said, and found that I actually meant it. I was willing to do more overnights with him.

The man Edison had been talking to - Reign - turned to me, his light green eyes assessing. Even if I didn't know he was the president, I would have guessed it. It was in the laid-back ease with which he carried himself mixed with a seemingly unshakable confidence, and more than a pinch of danger.

"He's supposed to be buying you pancakes?" he asked, the phrase seeming ridiculous coming from a man such as him. But he still seemed to be able to do so without losing any of his edge.

"Chocolate chip," I agreed. "With whipped cream," I added, not sure why I did so. I wasn't one for embellishing. I usually kept things as short and sour as possible.

"Don't mind me picturing you licking that whipped cream off a finger," Adler commented, still in cuffs, but looking just as relaxed about it as he had been the night before.

Reign considered me for another second, then looked back at Edison. "You get your woman her fuckin' pancakes, then you get your ass back here."

"Got it," Edison agreed, holding out an arm that I found myself walking into, despite the crowd, despite the fact that I had never walked with a man whose arm was around my shoulders, despite me knowing deep down that this was never going to last.

"You shouldn't get yourself into trouble because of me," I told him as he led me over to his bike.

"It's fine. Reign is just on high alert."

Right.

Because a couple years ago, it was all over the papers.

Dozens of men slain.

Right there in their own clubhouse.

It was non-stop bar room talk at Meryl's for six months after.

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