Page 16 of Diary of a Biker Queen

He had to be thinking about War’s warning of the spicy things that happened up here in the clubhouse.

She nodded fast, grinning at Little Jax, like two kids begging their parents for a sleepover. Even though neither of them had an actual parent here at all. Only their older siblings and their partners who had taken on the role.

Luca shrugged. “Go on, then. We’ll talk in the morning and work out where we’re going.”

Isabella seemed less thrilled with that idea, but she wisely chose to pick her battles and said nothing. Just kissed her brother on the cheek and left with Jax.

While I was relieved that Luca’s sister was somewhere safe, Nyah was practically dead on her feet beside me. I had a feeling she, too, was feeling the air of safety the clubhouse just seemed to ooze. I didn’t know if it was the fact we were surrounded by bikers and wrought-iron gates, or the high-tech security, evidenced by the monitors behind the bar with live footage of what seemed to be every inch of the Slayers’ compound. On one screen, Jax, Isabella, and Hawk trod along the dirt path that led to a gorgeous house surrounded by trees. Another showed the still, silent footage of a huge shed, the roller doors open to reveal a grease-splattered floor and all the equipment needed for an auto repair shop.

Or a chop shop, I supposed. They were bikers. Despite working with one of them for the past couple of months, I wasn’t privy to what they did to make money, nor did I want to know.

I was already overly involved in the Guerras’ underworld dealings. I didn’t need to involve myself in the Slayers’ business as well.

But I did appreciate the roof over my head for the night and somewhere for Nyah to be safe. We needed to talk a lot of things through, but that needed to wait until we’d all slept.

Nyah dragged her feet along the hallway. She suddenly seemed so exhausted I didn’t even ask her, just bent to put one arm behind her knees and swept her up into my arms. She didn’t fight me, just laid her head against my shoulder and let me carry her into the nearest unoccupied room.

The last thing I saw before the door closed behind me was Luca’s dark-brown eyes watching us, his expression completely unreadable.

In that one look, I got an inkling of what had happened between him and Nyah. It had been enough for him to save her life by saying the baby was his. Enough for him to go to war with his father over her.

I swallowed down the jealousy. Whatever it was, it wasn’t my business. Nyah and I weren’t a couple. We’d broken up. She’d had every right to do whatever she wanted with Luca.

And yet, it was my baby growing in her belly. It was my arms she was in now. And that was all that mattered to me.

I sat on the edge of a neatly made bed, the mattress giving way to support my weight. War hadn’t been kidding when he’d said the rooms weren’t anything fancy. The bed stood on scuffed wooden floors. There was a chest of drawers beneath a window, and a small en suite bathroom that was really no more than a shower cubicle, a sink, and a toilet.

But it was cozy and clean, and the illusion of safety here was intoxicating after all the looking over our shoulders, sneaking around, and praying we didn’t get caught.

Despite how tired I was, I leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, lingering there, breathing in her familiar scent, refamiliarizing myself with it now I had her alone.

“You probably don’t want to do that.” She sniffed at her shirt and grimaced. “I need a shower. I haven’t had one since the airport and I probably reek of plane.”

I didn’t care. I just wanted to hold her. It had been so long since I’d been able to do this without the threat of Carlos fucking Guerra breathing down our necks. I didn’t want to let her go. Wordlessly, I lifted her shirt, dragging it over her head. She let me, gazing at me with those big dark eyes that had haunted my dreams every night since she’d left me.

“God, you are so fucking beautiful. I’ve missed you so damn much.”

She let out a tiny noise, something that sounded an awful lot like a whimper, and buried her face in my neck. She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight, and if I closed my eyes for long enough, I could pretend nothing had happened. Could pretend we were still the same two people who’d fallen into a whirlwind relationship, who’d spent endless days and nights tangled up in sheets, unwilling to let the rest of the world in.

If I closed my eyes long enough, I could pretend none of the bad things had happened.

She pressed her hand over my heart. “I need to tell you something.”

I squeezed my eyes tighter. Because I already knew I didn’t want to hear whatever she was going to say. I could hear it in the tone of her voice.

“It doesn’t matter,” I choked out hoarsely. “Nothing matters but this.” I placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, desperate for her to stay and be mine. My hand drifted to her stomach. “And this. Us. The family we’re going to be.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and I kissed it away, never wanting to upset her. “Don’t do that. Don’t cry.”

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

So did I. I loved this woman more than anything in the fucking world. I loved her so much it had physically and emotionally slayed me when she’d walked away, and now it felt like she was going to do it all again. “I love you too.”

I undid her shorts and tugged them off. Found the clasp on the back of her bra and unhooked it. Her tits were fucking perfect, just like the rest of her, though I remembered her standing in my little bedroom, pulling at her top, complaining her boobs were lopsided.

I had still thought they were perfect. It was like every inch of her body had been carved in a way that was only for me. She fit in my arms like she’d always meant to be there, and I hadn’t known what I’d been missing until she was. I lowered my head and took one of her nipples into my mouth, kissing and sucking her, reminding myself she was here now. With me.

Her fingers threaded through my hair. “Dax.”