Risky and Wild(71)

“That's not at all how it was,” I snarl, but she's not done and she's sure as shit not afraid of me. I love it; it turns me on.

“Did you vote on it, too?” she snaps, running her fingers through her short hair and ripping open the package of cream cheese.

“No, because if we had, you would've lost. Sorry, Pint-Size, but you're a liability to them, not an asset.”

“Exactly,” she says, throwing her hands up and spinning to face me. “I'm a liability. An extra. Some inferior creature whose place is in the kitchen, on the back of a bike, a supporting role. I'll never be anything more than your wife.”

“And that would be a fate worse than death, would it?” I growl, my temper getting hot, shooting thrills of excitement into my cock. My heart and my head might be frustrated with the situation, but my dick … eh, he kind of likes it. “Love is precious, Pint-Size. It's rare. It's fucking fleeting. When you find it, you embrace it.”

“If you'd waited until tomorrow to ask me, put all that pressure on me in front of your friends, you know what I would've said?”

“Enlighten me, sweetheart,” I say, and I know I sound condescending, but I can't help it. We're both angry right now. I take a step towards Lyric, my boots squeaking against the floor, my eyes tracing the pale lines of her shoulders, that deep V neckline, the soft curves of her breasts.

“I would've said no,” she snaps, getting up close to me, a full fourteen inches shorter but wildly fierce. I feel my pulse start to race and my body respond to her nearness. Jesus Christ. I never thought I'd get so turned on at being turned down.

“And I told you,” I snap back at her, my fingers gliding up the outside of her arms. My touch leaves a trail of goose bumps, and I grin. “That I don't ever take no for an answer.”

I slip my hand into the pocket of my cut and draw out an intricate gold ring. It's got no box, and it's old as fuck, but it belonged to the sister I never talk about. Just putting my fingers around the metal makes my teeth clench tight against the memories. I figure if I repurpose them, if I slip this ring on Lyric's finger, all of that bad shit will fade behind the glare of happy memories.

Or maybe I'm just full of crap.

I snatch Lyric's hand in mine and she gasps, letting me pull our bodies together with those green eyes shining, those full lips parted in anticipation of pleasure. She might not like what I have to say, or what being together might mean, but she sure as hell seems to like this.

Without a word, I slip the gold ring down the finger on her left hand. It's a little big, so it'll have to be resized, but it's close enough. My sister was little; Pint-Size is even smaller.

That sharp gaze of hers drifts to the ring, to her left hand cradled in mine, wrapped in fingers covered with roses and vines, dotted with thorns. Lyric's fingertips are so soft, pressed tight against my calloused ones. I think I can even feel her heartbeat through them where they meet up with mine.

“Royal,” she says, her voice a warning, the cloud of sex and want and need in her eyes dimming a little. “I can't do this. It's too much. It's too fast.” When Lyric tries to pull away, I let go of her hand and grab her hips, spinning us both around until it's her back pressed tight to the cabinets.

“Maybe I made a mistake mentioning it to the boys, but what's done is done. If you tell me no now, this,” I gesture between us with my ringed hand, “this is over, Pint-Size. And I really, really don't want it to end. I'm sorry it has to be this way, sorry that I am who I am. Never in my life have I regretted my involvement with the club.” I let go of a sad smile. “Not until I met you. But if we don't make this official, you're nothing but a loose end to them.”

Lyric's full chest rises with a gaping breath as she lifts the ring to her face and examines it. It's some relic from the 1890's that my sister inherited from my mum who got it from her mum, and so and so forth. If she hadn't died, she'd probably still be wearing it to this day. I watch carefully, quietly as Lyric examines the yellow gold band, the opal-shaped ruby in the center, the ten seed pearls that surround it. The damn thing was never supposed to be mine, but here it is.

“It was my sister's,” I admit, and I realize this is the first time I've spoken about her in ten fucking years. When I joined the club, I joined a new family and left the pain of my old one behind. My poor dead Gram, my mum, my sister. All gone. And now Landon along with them.

I exhale sharply and close my eyes, realizing that I've been holding a lot of rubbish in for a long fucking time. I think it's finally starting to get to me. And that's just one of the reasons that I know I'm ready for this. Holding all of this in is killing me, and I have nobody to talk to. I want that. And I want that person to be the bloody mayor's daughter.