Page 96 of Savage Wild


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“I think there’s something to be said for that kind of passion, even if sometimes you get burned by it,” she said.

Brick thought about his own past, full of piss and vinegar, fighting and fucking, and realized that she was right. And then he tried to remember that last time he’d felt that kind of passion for anything other than his club.

He couldn’t.

Cassie gathered her plastic fork and napkin on her tray. “You ready?”

Brick looked at Cassie, new respect in his eyes, and said, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

*************************

Talon

Talon slouched in his seat in the back of the auditorium, trying not to call attention to his hulking frame or his cut. Or his age for that matter. Jesus, he was getting old.

He’d waited until the lights went down to slip in, not sure how Jenna would respond in front of her students.

He was glad he’d gone with stealth because she was magnetic, and since she didn’t realize he was there, he got to see her in her element. Letting it all hang out because this course was obviously her wheelhouse.

She was throwing off a rocker babe vibe while she showed film clips of classic biker fare mashed up with literary masterpieces, and Talon had to admit, he’d never seen anything like it.

As for her students, the boys all wanted to fuck her, and the girls all wanted to be her.

Talon was fascinated.

And then the lights came up and students started asking questions, and his girl lit up like Christmas morning.

Jenna called on a girl down front, “Yes, Michelle?”

The girl sat up straighter, “Do you think it’s fair to look at the biker phenomenon as an example of modern mythology?”

Jenna propped a hip on her desk as she considered the question, and Talon was surprised at how much he wanted to hear her answer. Wanted to hear what she really thought of his people. Of him.

“I think throughout American history,” Jenna began, “there have been several groups that have developed their own mythos over time. Take for example, the cowboys of the Old West. Definitely their own archetype and their own literary construct. And I think that as we progress, we’re going to see motorcycle clubs operate in the same way. They’ve already developed their own lexicon and their own hierarchy. For some, their club is more religion than God. I mean, they call their meeting roomchapel.”

Several students chuckled at her observation.

“So, yes, I think you’re right. Good question, Michelle,” Jenna went on. “Great dissertation topic when the time comes,” she said on a wink.

And if Talon hadn’t been in love with her before, at that moment, sitting in her lecture hall, Talon knew he was done.

She was it for him.

He lived his club, but she understood the life and what it meant to him in a way he’d never seen before.

Shegotit.

She hadn’t been a groupie at all. In her own mind, in her own way, she’d been a student.

And Talon finally got that with Jenna, he’d have a chance at something even Gate had never tasted. A relationship with a woman who didn’t judge. Who didn’t demand. Who valued his way of life and who’d weather any storm because it would be just as important to her as it was to him.

After a couple more questions, Jenna dismissed the class, but Talon kept his seat. Figured he’d wait until the hall emptied to make his approach.

Students moved toward various exits, some taking notice and eyeing him, especially his cut.

Then it happened.

“Dr. Albright, is this a guest speaker?” one of the students asked, gesturing to the back of the lecture hall where Talon sat.

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