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He’s fucking crazy, I know that, but…fuck. He says some shit that makes my knees go weak.
“I mean, you’ll have to do the same,” he says. I roll my eyes, huffing out a breath.And he’s back. “How badly do you think a brand hurts? Scale of one to ten. Worse than a tattoo?” I bark out a laugh at the absurdity of it, of him, but when I look at him again, he’s serious.
“Ez,” I laugh again. “That’s insane. Come on.”
“I’m insane, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I have,” I say dryly. “But you’re not burning a fucking brand into your skin for me.” I shake my head a few times. “I’m still annoyed with you! Don’t distract me.” He grins wolfishly. “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m serious about that. I won’t be controlled.”
He shrugs as he pushes off the bar. “We’ll see about that, love.”
“No,” I shake my head, “I will never be controlled. If you ever try it, I’ll cut your balls off.”
“Fuck, you know how to get my dick hard,” he says as he adjusts himself and I take a deep breath, trying to keep calm.
“Can you fuck off for a while?” I ask, and he snorts.
“Nah.”
“Ez,” I growl. “I need time.”
“Time for what?” He looks genuinely confused at the question, and I let out an exasperated breath.
“This.” I wave my hand between us. “I need time to figure this out. Figure us out.”
“What is there to figure out?”
“I have to think about Ian,” I say. “I have to think—”
“He’s mine, too.”
“Stop.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Just stop saying shit like that.”
“It’s true,” he says darkly. “You’re both mine. Forever.”
“But I’m not sure we want to be.” He goes deathly still, his eyes narrowing.
“What?”
“I just—”
“No, what does that mean? You’re not sure you want to be?” His jaw works to the side as he glares at me.
“It means that I’m still not sold on the idea of being with you,” I say, steeling my spine and lifting my chin. “It means that I don’t want to be with someone in an MC. It means I refuse to let you barrel your way into my life and take over. I’m not that type of woman, Ez. And if that’s what you want, find someone else. I’ll never roll over and submit to you.”
“You have once,” he says. “You’ll do it again. You’ll do it in all aspects of your life. You’ll learn to trust me. You’ll learn to lean on me.” I shake my head as he speaks.
“I can’t rely on anyone,” I say.
“You can rely on me.”
“And what happens when you die?” I ask, my voice rising. “What happens when you get taken away in cuffs? What happens when I find you with your dick buried in some club slut?”
He stares at me, his square jaw so tense it looks like he’s about to crack his teeth. Slowly, he lets out a breath.
“One,” he says, holding his finger up, “I will never die.”
“You’re human. Everyone—”
