Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC) (15 page)

Until Gabriel.

I was terrified of him. Of what he made me feel.

So I needed to run. I needed him to be as far away from me and my fucking truth as possible. Away from my monsters.

Gabriel’s jaw hardened. “Everyone’s afraid of something. It’s not a bad thing. It means you’ve got something to lose.”

I gathered my bag. “Not me. I’ve got nothing to lose,” I lied again.

He eyed me. “You’re clean now. If you’re not gonna admit what’s between us, then admit that. That’s something to lose.”

I bristled. “That’s it?” I hissed. “Why you don’t want me out of your sight? You think I’m just going to run back to being a junkie?”

His eyes blazed. “That’s not what I fuckin’ meant and you know it.”

“Whatever,” I said, using irritation to hide my hurt.

I tried to get out of the truck but a hand at my wrist stopped me. “This isn’t the end, Becky. You don’t get to push me away now that we’re back to reality.”

I raised a brow. “So
now
you’re acknowledging reality? Welcome to the real world, where I can do whatever the fuck I want. And short of handcuffing me to the steering wheel, which you’ve already tried to do, you can’t make me do anything.” I ripped my hand from his grasp and leapt out the door before I could let anything on his face tempt me to apologize and take him up on his offer.

It took every ounce of strength I had to walk down that path and not look back.

But I did it.

Both for me and for him.

“
S
he was
the prettiest Hell I’d ever been in. I didn’t mind burning at all.”

-
Matt Baker

“
W
hat are you doing here
?”

I jumped, not only at the low growl but the familiarity of it. I managed to regain my composure by the time I turned around.

He looked good.

Fuck, did he look good. He was wearing all black, a sinner and a saint all mixed in one. Soulful eyes and covered in tattoos. I didn’t know whether I wanted to try and redeem myself to get the saint part or sell more of myself to the devil to meet the sinner.

Despite, of course, his stupid fucking shirt, which made me want to smile and set my panties on fire. It read ‘
I taught Christian Grey all that shit
.’

Boy, did I know what he taught. The discipline he demanded in the bedroom. What I had fucking craved.

I swallowed. “What are
you
doing here?” I paused, looking around. “No wait, that’s kind of a stupid question. It’s a strip club, plus you’re here to visit Julia. Or perhaps Cadence?” My voice was sickly sweet. “Or it could be Charlotte.” I folded my arms, mostly to help cover my lack of attire. Not that he hadn’t seen it all. And tasted it. “You see, I found out that I’m part of a club. Not like yours. We don’t ride big bikes to compensate for some other shortcomings. But this one is a special, and quite large, sisterhood. All the girls you’ve fucked. Most of who were convinced they had something special and unique. Until they found out about the other three girls, or four, in some cases, you were also dating, who all felt equally unique.” I sucked in a breath. “Who am I
lucky
”—I spat the word—“enough to be sharing a rotation with?”

I had been informed of Gabriel’s dating habits on my first day when I met all the girls at Diamond Lounge.

Outwardly, I’d rolled my eyes and laughed it off. Inwardly, I’d crumbled. I fucking hated that it was that easy to smash the house I was trying to rebuild, but it was. I was barely holding on to my sobriety. Which Gabriel had given me.

I thought, despite my bravado, my denial, that he had given me more.

That we were more.

I had actually hoped for it.

It was my own fault, really. Hope had been snuffed out of my world the moment the door creaked open that night. I’d been a fucking idiot to try and relight that particular flame.

So I’d ignored the various calls and texts from him and hid, actually fucking hid, when he turned up at Rosie’s. Luckily she covered for me with minimal inquisition.

“It’s complicated,” I told her after I’d straightened from my position from behind the sofa.

She nodded, sad understanding flickering in her eyes. “Isn’t it always?”

I had been uncharacteristically going to ask what she meant by that, what hid behind her multiple personas, but she spoke.

“Should we watch zombies rip apart what’s left of the human race and drool at Daryl in all of his unshowered glory to make us feel better?” she asked, flopping down on the sofa.

I grinned. “Yeah.”

So I hadn’t gotten to the deep and meaningful behind Rosie and her serial dating, but I thought it might have something to do with a certain law enforcement officer who’d turned up at our place and she was the one hiding behind the sofa.

“Wow,” I muttered when I opened the door to captain handsome.

“You’re Bex,” he greeted, his voice smooth and deep.

Very pleasing to the ears.

He was very pleasing to the eyes too, all tall and muscly and bone structure. A little too clean-cut for me.

I raised a brow, surprised he knew who I was. I’d kept a pretty low profile since I’d moved in with Rosie, but it was a small town. “You’re a cop, seriously? Or are you looking for a bachelorette party? Because you’ve got the wrong house. Have a nice night, though. Ginuwine’s ‘Pony’ is always a good opening.” I winked at him and tried to close the door.

His police issue boot stopped the motion. His eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Again, I was surprised. I didn’t expect Captain America to have a sense of humor.

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future, in case this line of work doesn’t go to plan. For now, I’ll stick to my current profession, enforcing the law.”

The way he said that rubbed me the wrong way and had all warm fuzzy feelings for Officer Hottie dissipating. I frowned up at him. “Well, enforce away. I think you have to seek crime in order to do that,” I replied.

He regarded me. “I’m looking for Rosie.”

I leaned against the doorframe to communicate how unwelcome he was inside it. “As far as I know, she hasn’t committed a crime. But she starts cooking meth in the kitchen you’ll be the first person I call.”

He frowned at me. “It’s not exactly preferable to joke about the cooking of drugs in front of the police.”

I put my hand on my chest. “Why, I’m ever so sorry, Officer,” I declared, with only a hint of sarcasm. “Drugs are bad and wrong. I know that. I did D.A.R.E in high school.”

He stared at me.

I stared back.

“Shouldn’t you be, you know, fighting crime, sending out bat signals?” I probed.

He folded his arms. “I’m lookin’ for Rosie.”

I nodded. “You mentioned.”

He sighed, obviously losing patience. I was surprised it took that long. If I were him, I would’ve gotten my gun out and winged me right here right now. “She here?”

“You got a warrant?”

His eyes widened. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re serious.”

I nodded. “As plaid on a golf course.”

Cue another stare off.

I totally won.

He yanked his very attractive cop aviators down onto his face. “You’ll let her know I came by?”

“It’ll be the first thing I do,” I told him with a smile.

He shook his head, then turned on his heel.

He might not be my flavor, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy watching him walk away.

So we were both hiding from men.

It just sucked mine had actually found me.

It sucked even more that I was glad he’d done so.

Gabriel’s brows knitted together. He stepped forward, intoxicating me with his presence. “It wasn’t any of them I spent the last two weeks with. Shared my fuckin’ deepest darkest secrets with. Who I’ve had to damn near stalk just to see her beautiful face,” he murmured, his face close to mine. “Who I haven’t been able to get out of my fuckin’ mind.” His eyes turned hard. “Now I see you here, not exactly the best place for you, given all the shit you’ve just come out the other side of. So I’ll repeat my earlier question. Why are you here?”

“Deep breaths,” I muttered, looking from his intense stare to my boots.

His brows furrowed. “What?”

I snapped my gaze up. “I’m not talking to you,” I barked. “I’m talking myself out of making a scene or committing murder.” I glanced around and noticed Gage leaning against the bar, chugging a beer but watching our exchange with his calculating gaze. “Though, given the ownership of such an establishment, I doubt I’d be the first to spill blood here.” I pulled myself away from him. “But I’m starting fresh. Trying my best not to do things like murder. Or drugs,” I added harshly. “And to address you’re earlier statement, I’m here to
work.
And I’m sure you’ll have some kind of caveman opinion on the woman you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you own taking her clothes off for money.” I paused, raising my brow. “But I’m going to tell you now, that opinion isn’t going to change a damn thing. So how about we skip all the chest pounding and arguing and go straight to you storming out of here once you’ve realized you can’t change who I am, or what I do for a living?”

He stared at me. And stared. It started to get unnerving, but hell if I was going to be the one to speak first.

He finally stepped forward and grasped my hips tightly before I could scuttle away. I may have been gaining weight and muscle thanks to movie nights with Rosie and my last few practices with the pole, but I was no match for him.

“You think I want to change you?” he murmured. He brought his hand up to brush my newly dip-died purple ends. “You can’t change a wild thing. You try, you get yourself damned for trying to alter something so chaotically beautiful it hurts to look at. So you may drive me to fuckin’ drink, baby, but I’m not looking for eternal damnation. I’ve done plenty of things that might damn my soul, but this won’t be one of them.”

I lost my breath, my argument, my fricking sense at his words. He took advantage and closed the distance between us to savagely claim my mouth.

I was afraid he had already claimed everything else.

He pulled back when I was seriously about to climb him like a tree, right there in the middle of the club.

His eyes were liquid gold. “I don’t accept this.” His gaze flickered around the actually well-decorated and classy strip club. “This is not where you belong.” His eyes moved down my body, taking in my barely clad body. “And no one’s eyes but fuckin’ mine belong on that body. It makes my blood boil thinking of that.” He yanked me to him. “But as long as I’m the only one fuckin’ you till you can’t see or remember your own name, I’ll deal.”

Fury mingled with melancholy at his words. And temptation. Something I craved but couldn’t have. He needed to know that. So I didn’t struggle, glancing up to meet his eyes. “I can’t reconcile what I am with what you want me to be. I want to be her, the woman you think I am, but I’m not. The sooner you realize that, the sooner we can both exit this delusion and get on with our lives.”

I let myself have one more moment in his arms before stepping back.

He glared at me. “I don’t want you to be anyone but who you are.”

“Really?” I scoffed. “Look around.” I held my hands out to the stage, the pole. “Look at me.” I gestured down to my bra and panties set. “Is this what you want from your ‘old lady’?” I asked honestly.

His gaze set me on fire. “Yes. It’s exactly what I fuckin’ want.”

Then he pressed his mouth to mine once more before letting me go, turning on his heel and leaving me standing there, all hot and bothered and wondering what the fuck just happened.

What had happened on that Monday afternoon two months back was Gabriel claiming me. Or trying to.

What happened over the next two months was me fighting tooth and nail against that claiming.

I was barely my own, still finding out who sober Bex was, what she wanted from life.

I think that’s why he didn’t go full alpha. Why he only
looked
like he would kill every man in the audience every time I worked. And he was there almost every time. I tried my best to ignore him, to act like I wasn’t dancing for him, but he was like a magnet.

Nothing could change that.

Since I couldn’t change the laws of attraction, I controlled what I could. I made sure we didn’t do any couple shit like eat meals other than breakfast and midnight snacks together. Not that breakfast was a meal we normally had together, despite how good his pancakes were and how much Rosie loved them.

No, I set the parameters, which he begrudgingly accepted. Another surprise, which I called him on one night while mellow and sated.

I was tracing the rider on his back as he lay on his stomach. It was a tattoo all the men in the club had, spanning from shoulder to hip. The club insignia, a grim reaper riding a bike on a road of skulls. But his was different, the insignia was shrouded in angel wings that came from the top of his neck, almost protecting the rider. On closer inspection, I saw three names etched into the wings.

Sofia. Camila. Alexis.

“I’m surprised,” I said, trailing my nails down the inked feathers, swallowing my tears at the names on his back.

“That I’m mortal, despite what I can do in the bedroom?” he answered, his voice muffled by the pillow.

I grinned because he couldn’t see my face. “That you’re not fighting for control.”

He rolled around so he pressed me to the mattress in one swift move. My breathing quickened, despite the fact he’d only just finished rocking my world. “In case you didn’t notice, I’ve got control,” he rasped, focusing on the headboard he’d only just uncuffed me from.

Yes,
uncuffed me
. I’d gone willingly into captivity. Anyone would if they experienced the nirvana of Gabriel’s body ravaging theirs.

“In here,” I agreed, my voice less than a whisper. “But not out there.” I nodded to the door.

His eyes didn’t leave my face. “No one has control out there. I control the things I can, and the things I can’t, I protect.”

I swallowed at his words and managed to find my own. “So you don’t itch to give me a property patch, and it doesn’t piss you off that you can’t make me your little old lady?”

His face hardened, just a smidgeon. “We don’t have property patches, firefly. If we did, you reckon anything would get Gwen to wear one? That bitch takes what she puts on her back seriously. I don’t even think my prez could get a patch on her. Not that he would,” he said, a teasing glint to his eyes. “I also take what I put on my back fuckin’ seriously. Before I put on this leather, my life was fucked. Spiraling, full of demons. So I know the value of the club, what it means to me. What it gave me.” His hand circled my neck. “Since I know the value of where I belong, I know how fuckin’ hard it is to belong to someone. Something. You’re just figuring out how to belong to yourself. I’m willin’ to wait however long it takes for you to figure out you belong to me too. I’m willin’ to accept whatever you can give me, and this.” His hand snaked down my torso, stopping for delightful torture on my nipple and then moving lower. Way lower.

My eyes rolled back, my sensitive flesh exploding from his touch.

“This is a fuck of a lot more. It’s enough.” He kissed me, then hovered above me. “For now,” he warned.

I didn’t get the chance to argue the ‘me belonging to him’ statement because he made sure my mouth stayed busy.