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“I’m a—”
“She’s offfuckin’limits.” Isaac raises his voice so the whole room hears him, and the way he tightens his grip around my hand makes my pussy pulse.
He continues to march me toward the doors that lead outside, where all the bikes are lined up on the side of the road.
“Which is yours?” I ask, trying to make conversation. I was only young when my dad died, but I know he used to collect bikes, so I know a little about them.
“The bobber,” he growls back at me, keeping his head down as he leads me across the street and into the bar opposite. It’s a lot less crowded in this one, and when he sits us in one of the booths and places a menu in my hand, I notice as he watches me intently while I look it over.
“Everything looks good.” I smile up at him enthusiastically, and the stern look he’s giving me back reminds me this isn’t a date. I’m the two-night stand that just showed up at his clubhouse, and I guess that’s got some real stalker vibes about it.
“I’ll take the chicken burger.” I place my menu back on the table when the waitress comes over, and Isaac orders the same, along with two beers.
“So, is this—?”
“Do you know what you’ve done by bringin’ this to me?” he snaps to interrupt me.
“Well, I don’t like to scratch at old wounds but…”
“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout us.” He shakes his head. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout the person who's scared ya.”
I stare back and wait for him to explain, and when he leans across the table, and his eyes glare deep into mine, I feel that throbbing between my legs grow stronger.
“I’ll make sure he can never scare ya again. I don’t care who he is or where he’s from. It won’t matter what he’s got to live for. I won’t just hurt him; I’ll kill him.”
I almost choke on my breath when I realize how serious he’s being, then looking down at the table at the huge palm he has clasped over mine; I can’t help wondering if it’s to stop me from running.
“I tried to warn ya about what kind of man I was before I left you. You know for yourself now.” He looks down at the hooded skull patch that’s sewn onto the chest of his cut. “ Don’t believe for a second that I won’t take that man’s death on my conscience and sleep like a fuckin’ baby.”
I pull my hand away from under his when the waitress interrupts us with our beers.
“It was just some letters, a picture, and some rose stems,” I whisper feebly. But Isaac shakes his head back at me.
“Bullshit. It scared you enough to come out here and find me. I won’t have you lookin’ over your shoulder. I’ll find out who it is, and I’ll make sure they don’t trouble you ever again.”
“But how? How will you find them?” I ask, confused.
“The club have their ways of gettin’ information.” He shrugs simply, before taking a swig from his beer.
“I don't want someone’s death on my conscience,” I say my thoughts out loud.
“Like I just told ya, darlin’, it’ll be on mine, not yours.”
“And have you…?”
“Have I killed before?” He narrows his eyes at me. “Yeah, darlin’, I’ve killed before.” The dark grin on his face suggests he’s proud of the fact, and suddenly I feel like I’m in way over my head. Yet I’m still not running.
“I’ll arrange for you to have a room at the clubhouse while I figure it out,” he assures me.
“No, I want to stay with you. In your room. Together.” I sound so needy, but I traveled all this way, and the thought of not being close to him makes me feel desperate.
“Is that a good idea?” There's a glint in his eye that reminds me of the time we shared in Paris.
“It kinda feels like our only option,” I admit with a seductive smirk as I fidget on my seat to give myself some friction and hope it’ll ease the ache he puts inside me.
“Then you better eat up, little lady.” He pushes the plate the waitress places on the table, closer to me. “I don’t think you’re gonna be gettin’ much sleep tonight.”
“What ya got there?” He nods his head toward the cocktail in my hand when he comes out of the shower.
