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She’s wearing worn jeans that I’ve seen several times before, and a black long sleeved shirt that is just as familiar… Yet it’s all different this time.
Because today she’s wearing my cut.
I’ve got one of her own being fixed. I’ve never claimed a woman in this way. Even when Cherry was my old lady, officially, I never gave her a cut. This is a big step for me and you can tell that by the silence filling the room. I fight the urge to look at Ghost. He’s the motherfucker I want to deliver my message to the most, but for the life of me I can’t pull my eyes away from Toi.
Her hair is down and she takes my fucking breath and locks it in my chest. She’s beautiful. I make a note to take her shopping for more clothes, and to fuck her soon. I don’t think I can wait much longer. She stands back from the table, blushing and looking very unsure.
I walk over to her, drawn to her like a fucking moth to a flame.
“You look good, Dragonfly,” I whisper in her ear, pulling her into my body. “I like your hair down.”
“I had a bruise on my neck,” she whispers back and I move my hand along the inside of her neck, lifting her hair. It’s the hickey I gave her earlier. I haven’t done that shit since I was a wet-behind-the-ears kid, trying to prove himself to the world. Toi makes me want to mark her entire fucking body, though. I grin down at her.
“I like it,” I tell her pulling her hair over her shoulder, revealing it a little better.
“You’re an ass,” she whispers, but she says it with an almost-smile on her lips. I pick her up, cradling her against my body. “Marcum!” she gasps. “I can walk!”
“You’ve been in a bad wreck. I want to carry you.”
“I’m fine,” she says.
“I should probably tell you now, I like carrying you. I’m liable to do it often,” I tell her, ignoring her protest. I walk her over to the table and sit down in the chair with her. The minute we sit down, the men start talking again. Toi tries to move off of my lap, but the chair beside me is where Cherry is sitting and Toi isn’t getting out of arm’s length from me. I keep her in my lap, not letting her go.
“I…”
“I want you here, Dragonfly.”
“But—”
“Hearing your voice makes me happy. If you’re not in my lap, I may not hear it, and I need to hear it, Toi. You stay in my lap.”
She sighs, but she doesn’t argue. I reach down and get a piece of bacon from my plate and hold it to her lips. She opens slowly and takes a bite, her eyes glued to mine. She chews slowly and I stab a piece of scrambled egg on my fork and hold it up next.
“Let me guess. You like feeding me too?”
“Got it in one, baby. Got it in one,” I answer with a grin, and that grin only gets bigger when she takes the egg between her lips and I hear a chair scrape against the floor. I look away to see Cherry giving Toi a look I do not like. I make a mental note about that, but then I see Ghost walking out of the room. I lean down and kiss Toi’s forehead. She has no idea what’s going on, I see it on her face, but that’s okay. Ghost and I do. It’s too late for him and he knows it.
Toi’s mine.40ToiI’m pretty sure I’m in a coma somewhere, completely unconscious and dreaming. That’s the only explanation for how my world has turned around since the accident. It’s been three days since Marcum brought me back to the club. Three days of him sleeping with me every night and playing my body like an instrument he created. Three days of him carrying me the minute he sees me walking and three days of eating dinner in the large kitchen at the club, while in Marcum’s lap.
It also has two dark spots.
It has been three days that I have seen very little of Desi and Harley. The older kids have stopped by to check on me, and Desi always comes in every evening to hug me and tell me about school. But I haven’t seen Harley.
Not once.
The other dark spot is Cherry is still here. I haven’t questioned Marcum about it. As new as this is, I’m not sure what it is. I’m pretty sure it’s not my place to question him about his exes—at least not yet. Still, I’m not blind to the way she looks at me. And I’ve blocked out most of that day, but she didn’t seem as sweet that day in the car as she tries to be here. At least I don’t think so. Maybe I’m projecting because I don’t like her being here. I’m not jealous… At least I’m not going to admit that I am. That would be silly, right? To be jealous over a man that….
