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He nodded. ‘Even more so.’ He felt something deep and primal stirring in him, some ancient instinct for guardianship. It was a powerful urge.
If I had my way, you wouldn’t ever leave my sight, young lady.
‘You know,’ he continued, ‘I’m not gonna run from this.’ He surveyed the damage to his property. ‘A couple of guys with a sledgehammer don’t scare me. Not even close. The Death Division are on their way out of New York. Drifters are back in town. I’m not ceding a fucking inch of my territory to them.’
‘What about all this?’ she asked, pointing at the destruction.
‘This is nothing,’ Wolf replied. ‘Me and the boys will put this straight in no time. Only real damage that’s been done is to your bear.’
He could tell just how badly it had upset Sophia to see her stuffie destroyed like that. He wished there was something he could do, but he had the sense that just replacing the bear with a more recent model wouldn’t undo any of the hurt.
‘What about if they come back?’
‘I’ll talk to Marcus, the Prez of our club.’
‘And Prez means…?’
‘President. The head honcho. I’ll let him know we need a show of strength to avoid this happening again. We’ll need guards around here 24/7 from now on. This is going to be the safest place in the city. So, what do you say? You want to stay? Let Daddy look after you?’
He hadn’t meant to say it. It felt totally inappropriate — after what Sophia had described going through with her father, it was about the worst thing he could have chosen to say.
Up until the moment he said the D word, she’d looked calm, peaceful, almost hopeful. But as soon as he said it, she shut right down.
‘Sorry,’ she said, her darkly lashed gray eyes looking as sad as could be. ‘I don’t want a cage, no matter how pretty the bars are.’
‘I understand,’ he replied, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. It had been a whirlwind of a day, and he barely knew where he was, let alone how he should be feeling. He longed to take Sophia’s hand and pull her close, but he couldn’t — he had to hold back. ‘Just know that you’ve got a friend in me, Sophia Ragusa. My door will always be open. You’re free to come and go as you please. We’re kindred spirits, you and I, and I’d like you in my life, however you w—’
And then he couldn’t talk anymore, because his mouth was full of hers.
*
Oh, he tasted good. Sweet and earthy and so, so strong. She took him by surprise, but the moment he realized what was going on — that among the carnage and destruction of the day, she was pushing her lips against his — he surged forward.
His arms wrapped around her petite body, and she pushed up against his powerful, muscular one. The world seemed to melt away as he thrust his tongue deep into her hot open mouth.
Sophia ran her hands through his hair, just as he ran his up and down her back. It was only a few moments in that it struck Sophia that this was her first kiss. Ever.
‘Holy hell,’ she said, pulling away for a moment.
‘Language, young lady,’ he cautioned.
‘How comeyou’reallowed to curse?’
‘Because my mouth’s already as dirty as they come, but yours is as clean as pie. Tastes about as good, too.’ He gave her a lopsided grin, and she stared at him. How was it that this impossibly attractive man liked her enough to let her kiss him? He was so old and experienced, and she was so small and silly, and yet, somehow, it made sense. ‘Come back here my little slice of pie,’ he said, tugging her in again, kissing her neck, her cheek.
The pleasure was intense. She’d touched herself plenty of times in the past, but this was nothing like that. Losing control like this, letting him explore the exposed parts of her body, was a rush she’d never experienced.
As his hands moved closer to the waistband of her pants, threatening to undo them, to expose the pale flesh beneath, she felt a sudden surge of panic.
A biker.
She was going to lose her virginity to a biker.
Sophia pulled back, panting. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Please, this is going too fast, way too fast.’
‘Course,’ Wolf said, a look of concern on his face. ‘You okay? We’re not gonna do a single thing you don’t want to.’
‘I know, I just…’ From somewhere deep inside, a feeling of wretched, belittling shame surged up. She couldn’t fight it. ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry.’
