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Property of Drex (Book 2)(3)

By:C.M. Owens

Even I realize how ridiculous it sounds to say Drex just wants me back. What was I thinking?

It’s hard to believe he’d ever hurt me after all the times he’s protected me or tried to protect me. He covered my body with his when those bullets were flying in.

I haven’t even had time to process the madness inside his house. I’ve been too focused on avoiding the Death Dealers. Now I’ve invited them over.

Drake groans while grabbing a beer. “I’ve known Drex longer than you. Drex is cold. They didn’t make him VP just because he’s Herrin’s son, even though that did play some part in it. They did it because he’s the one who will obliterate anyone who crosses them. He’s trigger happy. Hell, even Herrin has said Drex is too bloodthirsty, and that they’d always be in a war if he doesn’t get his temper in check before he takes over.”

Hearing it said aloud makes me really regret telling him where I am. I’m that damn turtle or frog or whatever it was that let the scorpion ride its back across the pond.

“How do you know all this?” I ask him, deciding not to share that childhood tale of instinct versus intentions.

He shrugs while propping his feet up, sitting down beside me on the sofa.

“I was their go-to guy before my fallout with Drex. Cecil wouldn’t have ever touched their ink if it hadn’t been for that. And when someone is getting ink, they usually like to talk. I’ve always been smart enough to keep my mouth shut when I hear something that could get me killed. Hence the reason I’ve earned their trust.”

I eye him, finally getting curious.

“What happened between you and Drex?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “He fucked my girl. Claims he didn’t know she was mine. But he didn’t exactly feel bad about it even when he found out. I told you; Drex is cold. I learned we’re not friends, but I also never want to be his enemy. Drex doesn’t let people close enough to hurt him. Not even his own dad.”

I’m sure he’s trying to dissuade me from my interest in Drex, but it does the opposite. I almost feel… sad? Drex doesn’t even kiss women because he doesn’t like the intimacy of it.

And yet I can’t seem to push him away. He’s coming for me. I might have misconstrued everything he said, but he almost sounded desperate to have me back.

“Drex won’t kill you.”

He smiles grimly. “Yeah. I know. He’s cold, but he’s not that damn icy. He will, however, probably punch me a few times. It’s you I’m worried about. After everything you’ve told me, you’re a target. You’re the center of too many coincidences. You sure Drex cares enough about you to believe you?”

Before I can answer, there’s a pounding at the door. That was fast.

“Open the fuck up, Drake!” Drex demands, sounding pissed. “Or I’ll kick in the door.”

Oh no. No. No. No. He wasn’t supposed to sound pissed.

My palms are sweaty as I rake them over my jean shorts, standing up and taking a deep breath. Drake hesitates, but the loud pounding starts back up.

He tucks his gun in the back of his jeans before walking over and opening the door, using his body to block the path.

“Listen, she didn’t—”

“Move,” Drex growls, then suddenly he’s shouldering by Drake—who is a wall of muscle—and stalking toward me.

My heart flips when I see him, especially the relief that seems to cross his eyes. His head has stitches, starting just above his eyebrow and almost going into his hairline.

He’s a little bruised, but other than that, he seems fine.

Of course, my inner appraisal is cut short when he comes at me faster. I try not to gasp when he grabs me at the waist and jerks me to him. But my breath is gone when he crushes his lips to mine.

I definitely know the definition of melting now.

One hand goes to my hair as he angles my head, giving his tongue access to thoroughly explore me, kissing me stupid. It only takes a second for the shock to wear off so that I can react.

I kiss him back, hungrily searching and seeking, exploring and needing. He grips me tighter, pulling me off the floor until my legs are forced to wrap around his waist.

It’s the only kiss he’s ever initiated. It’s the only kiss he’s ever pushed for more. And it’s the hottest kiss I’ve ever had in my life. I’d almost forgo sex to continue kissing like this.


He finally breaks the kiss, and I’m left panting for air like I’ve just run a marathon. His forehead presses against mine, while he tries to breathe as well.

“Alright. Guess that means he’s not killing you,” Drake says, a smirk in his tone.

Drex glares over his shoulder at him, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, his lips graze my forehead with a sweet touch that conflicts with Drex’s hard nature. Drake walks over to us until he’s beside us, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at us like he’s amused.

“Let’s get back to the warehouse. We have a mess to sort through. Drake, you’re coming with us.”

Drake tenses, narrowing his eyes. So Drex adds, “You’re holding out on us. I get why, but now the Hell Breathers are under the impression you’ve joined us, since my arrival at your place seemed so abrupt. Now there’s nothing to lose.”

Drake curses, running a hand over his hair. “Why can’t I just tat and stay out of this shit?”

Axle’s laughter startles me, and I look over Drex’s shoulder to see him in the entryway. I tense against Drex, who is still holding me.

“Ain’t no one gonna hurt you, baby. Relax,” Drex says before running his nose along my jaw, gently kissing a spot near my ear.

Axle’s laughter dies, and he seems to sober before giving me what resembles an apologetic look. As if that makes everything okay.

Then again, he did let me go with Drake instead of insisting I go with them to the executioner’s lair.

“Come on. We have shit to go over,” Drex tells the other two.

He carries me as though he’s worried I might run away if my feet hit the ground. His arms are locked around me as he climbs into the SUV, keeping me strapped to his waist.

“No bike?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from reading too much into his actions.

“Concussion,” he answers, pointing to his head.

“That explains the unusual greeting,” I mutter dryly.

He softly laughs, but it tapers off quickly. “Don’t run away again.” The seriousness is edged with a hint of warning in his tone. I swallow hard, suddenly not feeling so safe.

“What happens if I do?” I ask hoarsely.

He leans forward, letting his lips almost brush mine, close enough for us to exchange breaths.

“I’ll find you.”

A shiver slides down my spine, but he starts kissing me, and I drink in the effect he has on me. His hands slide into my hair so that he can properly devour me, but he pulls back, leaving me leaning in and hungry for more.

“I’ll end up fucking you in the car if I keep kissing you,” he murmurs before pressing one last chaste kiss to my lips.

For a man who claims to not be a fan of kissing, he’s damn good at it, and I’m left reeling from the rush.

“But when we get back,” he whispers, still keeping his lips close to mine, “I’ll kiss every inch of your body. When I get done, you’ll never want to run again.”

Chapter 4


Pop keeps talking, but I’m barely listening. Eve is upstairs waiting for me, yet we’re still going over the same shit. My skin is crawling, and I’m not sure if it’s impatience or adrenaline.

“Drex?” Pop prompts, drawing me out of my own head.

I look up to see all eyes are on me, and I have no clue what answer they’re waiting on. Pop frowns and bristles, acting irritated with me.

“Your head injury messing with your attention span?” he asks.

Rush, for once, doesn’t give me a smug look of superiority. His scowl is focused on Pop. Then again, most of the club is pissed at him for holding out on us.

“Nah, Pop. Just sick of repeating the same shit.”

He looks taken aback by my fuck-you attitude. It’s sure as hell a new form of disrespect from me. But he shouldn’t have pissed me off.

Truth? I suddenly don’t give a damn about any of this. No one here is concerned with the fact that any one of us could have been killed. I just happened to be the target. The only thing anyone is worried about is how or if to retaliate and if they’ll strike again.

Talks of war aren’t exactly easy. No one wants it. War means casualties and a lot of heat from the feds. Wars get noticed and get people like us killed or tossed in prison. Wars are stupid for business. That’s what everyone is focused on.

More truth? I would be doing the same thing.

I wouldn’t even think to give a damn if someone nearly died. I’d be worried more about the club. It’s how we operate. Yet I was worried about Eve. Just like she was worried about me, even though she has every right to want me dead.

“I want Eve to get out more. Obviously Benny has plans for her, but if he tried killing Drake for what he knows or might have told you, that means Eve probably doesn’t know a damn thing. But if she gets out, Benny might approach her. It’s becoming more apparent that we’re not using her to her full potential, and according to the others, she’s grown attached to you. So I doubt she’ll turn on us. Use her.”