For trusting the club.
For being at the clubhouse.
For not wanting to let Titus go.
I try to tell myself it was only one night and didn’t mean anything, but I remember the way he whispered promises to not let me go against my skin. He said I’m his. What I’m not sure I’m ready to admit is how much I want him to be mine.
“I can hear you thinking and freaking out,” Titus’ voice is deep and gruff in the best of ways.
He opens his eyes and his gray orbs hold me hostage. The soft smile on his face and the way he caresses my head, like I’m precious, has my heart racing. I want to fall into this feeling; I’m desperate for it.
I’m just afraid to trust it. And I’m afraid of how much it will hurt if everything falls apart.
What if I’m not strong enough to stand up to my father?
Just when I’m about to leap from the bed, I’m rolled onto my back and Titus is looming over me. My heart is racing, but it’s not from fear. His spruce and cinnamon scent bombards me from all sides and my nipples pebble.
Which he is very aware of considering I’m still naked. And so is he.
A blush works its way up my neck and over my cheeks while covering my chest. He closes the distance between us, his nose running along the tops of my breasts and then up my neck.
“You have no idea what seeing you blush does to me, Teach,” he groans. “Now tell me what’s going on in your head and why you’re freaking out.”
There’s a demand in his voice, one I’m sure usually serves him well. He’s clearly a man who is used to being listened to; the first time.
But I’ve had a lifetime of living under authority I never asked for and started resenting a long time ago.
“I was not freaking out,” my tone is defiant as fuck and my biker’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline.
My eyes fall to his chest and the tattoos etched into his flesh. I didn’t get the chance to study him last night, not the way I wanted to. He’s so damn sexy and even though I should feel caged in, trapped, with his larger body looming over me, I feel safe.
“You were,” he shoots back at me, not letting me deflect or pretend otherwise. “You were overthinking and worrying. If you’re worried about people here giving you a hard time, you don’t need to. They like you; they respect you and the work you do in town.”
“I’m not worried about the people here,” I admit. “I avoided the club because it was easier. It’s not like I ever shunned anyone; I just kept my distance from the brothers. I knew Dad would never let me hear the end of it and of course people would talk,” I admit.
“Is that what you’re worried about?” His face is filled with concern, and it’s hard to believe it’s for me. “Your dad and people talking about us? I’m sure someone noticed me staying close last night and us leaving together.”
Determination washes through me and I reach up to slide my hands up the expanse of his muscular back. His skin is so warm, and I almost get distracted by it.
“I don’t really care about what people think. Dad does,” I sigh, “he always has. But I’m so tired of him forcing me into a certain box, all because he thinks it is what’s best for me. I think it’s almost worse that he does have my best interest at heart,” I tell him something I’ve never admitted to anyone else, not even Jessi.
“You know he’s going to flip his shit when he finds out where you are,” Titus doesn’t say it like a warning, just a statement of fact.
“Oh, for sure,” my heart sinks with my words because I know just how true they are. “He’s going to try to force me out of here. He’ll threaten me,” I tell him.
Rage transforms my man’s face and my eyes widen. “He better not fucking threaten you,” he growls the words as the tension in the room spikes.
“He would never physically hurt me,” I’m quick to defend my dad, even though part of me doesn’t really know why. Still, I do know for sure my words are true.
Titus narrows his eyes and some of the rage ebbs, but not all of it. “I don’t give a fuck if he would actually cause you physical pain or not. He better not fucking threaten you,” he repeats his words and they cause a fuzzy feeling in my tummy.
I pull him down on top of me, making him give me more of his weight. It feels so good to be covered in him. Protected. Sheltered.
Safe.
“You make me feels safe,” the words tumble from my lips even though I don’t mean to say them.
“Good,” his voice is thick as his eyes bounce between mine.
