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I take a step closer to TK and lower my voice. “No, seriously, why do you care?” I poke him in the chest, gently at first, then again, this time much harder. “You’re leaving in a couple of days, you said so yourself, so what’s it to you who I hug?”
Wrapping his hand around mine to keep me from poking him a third time, his eyes grow hard. “You’re in my bed, Cora. And when you’re in my bed, you don’t go hugging other men.”
I bark out a laugh, unable to believe my ears. “In the few days I’ve known you, I’ve seen you with three blondes and two different brunettes, and you were doing a hell of a lot more than hugging.”
“That was before,” he counters, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
I’m not buying it. “Why are you here?”
He releases my hand, but doesn’t step away. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You,” I say, unable to hold it in another second. “Me. Why are you here after everyone left?”
He looks down at my son. “Not here, Cora. This isn’t the time nor the place.”
But now that I’ve unleashed the question, I can’t stop myself. “I mean it! What are you really here for? Since when does the hot biker stick around to protect the fat, mouthy bartender?”
Rage flashes in his eyes, and he pulls me close, putting his lips at my ear. His heart’s thumping so hard against his chest, I can feel it against mine. “No more, Cora,” he hisses, his anger barely under control. “I have apologized for those words over and over again. I’ve even sung you a song, for fuck’s sake. I beat myself up over that shit every damn day, so either you get over it or you don’t, but you can’t keep throwing that in my face every time you start to feel something for me.”
“Momma?”
I can’t tear my eyes away from his. The passion and the anger and the regret are all there, plain as day, waiting for me to accept his apology once and for all, and allow us to move on.
“Momma?”
“Just a second, baby.”
“I can admit when I’m wrong, Cora,” TK continues, “but I’m not going to knock myself out apologizing for something you’re never going to forgive.”
God, he’s right.
I’m still holding a grudge, and for whatever reason, that problem is mine. He’s apologized and tried to make amends. Me holding onto my anger just shows that I’m more broken than I would ever want to admit.
“I forgive you.”
I melt just a little when he cups the side of my face. “You’re beautiful, Cora. And no, I don’t own you, you’re not my possession, but I’m starting to think that maybe I’m yours.”
And that’s the moment I realize I might actually be falling in love with this man.
TWATKNOT
Since the nightPriest and I tossed Big Dick out of the bar, there’s been no sign of him or his club snooping around. I’d even put out feelers with a few of the locals I’d met at the Moose Knuckle, but those had come back with nothing as well. If the guy is still here, he’s hiding, and likely planning something. And if he is, the danger to Cora and Harrison is still out there.
Cora insisted that she has to keep working, though, claiming her boss needs her, which annoys the ever-loving fuck out of me. But whether I said yes or no, she’d still be here. If I’ve learned anything about this woman, it’s that she’s her own person, and defiantly stubborn to the fucking core. So, here I sit, bellied up to the bar, watching her work tonight while Priest keeps an eye on the house. Most of the biker crowd has thinned out with the rally finishing up. There are still some tourists around, but here at the Moose Knuckle, it’s mostly locals in attendance tonight.
“You want another one of your pussy drinks?” Cora asks, grinning.
“No, ma’am,” I reply. “Got a hot date later. I need to be sober to get us back to my motel.” I have things planned for her tonight, and those plans have my cock straining against the fly of my jeans. Though Cora would never admit it aloud, she likes staying in my room as much as I like her being there.
“Someone I know?”
“Nah. This girl’s a local. Long brown hair, nice set of tits.” I lean forward. “And I think she likes me.”
Cora’s eyes grow wide, but she recovers quickly, her lips quirking up in a half-smile. “And what about you? Do you like her too?
I reach out and pluck a lock of hair from her breast, letting my hand linger when I graze her nipple. “Oh, I like her a lot,” I confess.
“Lucky girl,” she breathes.
