The girl dropped off without a blanket. I'd tucked her in like a little girl, threw my arm around her, covering her with my heat.
So much for a thanks. I shot her the dirtiest look as I put my hands back where they belonged, wrapped around her waist, and pulled her tight. She stiffened up like a goddamned cat about to be thrown in water.
“I'm keeping you warm like a good husband should,” I growled. “What time is it?”
“Huh?” She reached for her phone on the nightstand. “Ugh. Seven o'clock. Too early to wake up like this.”
“Then shut it and go back to sleep, Elle Jo. You're gonna need your beauty rest. We've got a long ride ahead.”
“Ride?” She turned toward me, the anger lining her face smoothing to that sweet innocence my cock ached to corrupt like nobody's business. “We're supposed to stay here for two more days. I don't know what you're –“
I reached up and pushed my hand across her mouth. She struggled, only relaxing when I held her down and whispered in her ear.
“Things change. You're pissed off and unhappy with the whole situation, I get it. I'm not fucking stupid. Only thing you'll hate more than having me by your side is all the other brothers here in Redding, keeping you under lock and key. So, I'm taking your ass back home, where we can calm the hell down and play house.”
Her eyes widened. I stared into those baby blues and twisted away from her, all I could do to stop my dick from pressing into her thigh.
“I know you're a smart girl, Ell-Bell. We're both perfectly able to stuff the rage for a few shitty weeks and play pretend. That's what I'm offering. I'm about to give you the whole damned world, babe, and I just need you to close your pretty lips, roll the fuck over, and get some shut eye.” I pressed my face to hers, so close she could feel the stubble on my cheek against it.
“That's all this is. Theater. Pretend. I'm gonna act like the best old man a lady ever hoped for. I'll help you on my bike, pull out chairs for you, and share a bed without ripping off everything clinging to your body and claiming that hot little puss like I should. Hell, I'll even pretend I like your old man instead of wanting to drive smoking lead in his brain. It's not hard. It's pretty fucking simple. And we can get right to it as soon as we're rested for the road and ready to make this shit work. Okay?”
There wasn't much response for ten long seconds. She just stared at me, her eyes two vast oceans, studying mine to figure out what kinda game I'd decided to play now.
Finally, she nodded. Perfect.
Loosening my grip, I let her breathe freely again and rolled away, giving her an inch of sorely needed space. I never took my arm off her waist, just held in place without moving between her legs or across her ass, fighting the wild urge.
Elle turned away from me, without making any effort to throw me off. For now, she'd been tamed. Pacified. And maybe, just fucking maybe, she'd started to trust me.
We slept like two kids who'd fallen down after screaming and chasing each other all day.
V: Baby Steps (Elle Jo)
Drifting in and out of sleep shouldn't have been so easy. I shouldn't have let him take over, shouldn't have let him keep my hips against his, shouldn't have surrendered to the powerful arms with the black, murderous ink wrapped so possessively around me.
But I did, and I slept better than I had all week, ever since I'd found out I needed to play bride to keep daddy's schemes from falling apart and putting us all in danger.
The danger wasn't even close to gone. I'd found a second of peace with my fake husband, sure, but soon we'd both be caught between two Grizzlies charters at each other's throats. Plus I'd be carted off to play interpreter whenever daddy decided to meet the Chinese, a negotiation promising tension.
I reached for my phone and checked it, careful not to disturb the biker holding me. Eleven o'clock now. Four hours slipped by in a haze, dreams and manly heat that temporarily carried me away from the hellish joke called my life.
Holding my breath, I rolled to face him. I watched Asphalt as he slept, feeling his big chest rising and falling against me.
I wondered why I'd lost the desire to pull his switchblade out of his belt and cut his throat in his sleep. No, of course I'd never do it – I wasn't a violent girl. My father's obsession with shielding me from MC blood had paid off over the years, except I'd grown up scared of having to fight for my life.
But in this case, I should've wanted to. I thought I'd be ready to do anything to have him off me and be free from this mess, this outlaw freak who'd had his name tattooed into my flesh.
That wasn't how I felt just now. God, no.
My heart beat a little faster as my eyes traced his strong jaw, stopping at his lips. I remembered their heat against mine, the fire in his kiss. The way he kissed me during the wedding brought me to my knees, awed that he'd lost none of the shock and awe from that first night four years ago, before either of us dreamed about being prisoners to each other.