I inform Troian, pacing back and forth in front of the window overlooking Rice University. This late, the University looks more like a park than an institute of higher learning. Aside from a few handfuls of students, the various courtyards are all but empty.
‘You can’t,’ Troian says. ‘I’m not raising his boys alone. They’re too much like him.’
‘He could have warned me that Tate is in a freaking motorcycle gang!’
She laughs quietly. ‘It’s not a gang, Samara.’
I grunt, not so sure I agree with her. Whether they call it a club or a gang or something else, it checks the same boxes. Maybe they aren’t selling drugs or prostituting women, I don’t know. I feel like an idiot for what I said this morning though. He’s been nothing but kind to me, and I insulted him and his friends! He probably thinks I’m a bitch. I’m not entirely convinced he’s wrong. I’m not entirely convinced he’s right either. As soon as he told me the truth, my heart stopped beating.
For the first time since I met him this morning, I felt genuine fear. I know he saw it. I hate that he saw it. I hate that it hurt his feelings, and I know it did. But the emotion was instinctive, there before I could call it back. I’m not afraid of him, not exactly. But I’d be lying if I said I weren’t afraid.
He says his club is different. I want to believe him. I just…. Did Siobhan want to believe the same thing when Danny introduced her to his club? Did she think they were just a bunch of guys who enjoyed riding together? I don’t know. I’m not my sister, and Tate isn’t Danny, but trust has never come easy for me, especially when it comes to men.
I never knew my real dad, and my mom’s boyfriends tended to be alcoholics and addicts with anger problems. She never let them hit me or Siobhan, but they roughed her up plenty. After growing up around them, dating has never high on my list of priorities.
Making up perfect men for the story apps I write is easy. Putting my faith in the real version is terrifying. I want to believe Tate when he says his club is nothing like the men who killed my sister, but what happens if I’m wrong? What happens to Scout if I’m wrong?
‘Tate is a good guy,’ Troian says, sobering. ‘You know I wouldn’t have left you there alone if I didn’t trust him implicitly to take care of you and Scout.’
‘I know,’ I whisper, laying my forehead against the cool glass and exhaling a sigh. It immediately fogs over a patch of glass beneath my nose. Guilt trickles in, adding to the cacophony battling for dominion in my mind. She’s right. ‘I feel like a jerk. He’s been great, and I basically called him a criminal today.’
‘He’ll forgive you. Besides, a little humility will do him good,’ she says with a chuckle. ‘He’s cocky, isn’t he?’
‘He’s bossy.’
‘That too.’ She laughs. ‘Give him a chance, Samara. He’s an incredible surgeon, and a good man. He’ll be good for you and Scout.’
I frown, not sure I like the way she said that. ‘You mean for Scout.’
‘Sure, that,’ she says. ‘How is she today?’
‘Worse,’ I whisper, tears pooling in my eyes. Every day, she’s worse than the day before. I hate leaving because I’m so afraid something will happen while I’m gone. Her heart is struggling. Her lungs are struggling. She’s struggling. They keep telling me that she’s a fighter, but she shouldn’t have to fight at all. No baby should.
‘I’m so sorry, Samara.’
‘Me too.’
‘Do you have a surgery date yet?’
‘Tate’s working on it.’ He left her room to start making calls not long after Daisy, her nurse, arrived. He still hadn’t returned by the time visiting hours ended. I decided to walk back to the penthouse to clear my head. Hopefully he’ll have a date for me soon. ‘I’m not sure how much time he needs.’
‘If anyone can get it worked out for her, he can. She’s in good hands now.’ She pauses. ‘That’s what they call him, you know. Hands.’
‘Really?’
‘Mmhmm.’
An image of him running his hands across my body floats through my mind, his emerald eyes locked on my face. A shiver rolls through me. I bite my lip, fighting a groan.
Stop thinking about his hands, Samara. Stop thinking about him.
Except…I can’t. All day, he’s been stuck in my head. It’s starting to stress me out. The walk here didn’t help. Nothing has. Ever since this morning, I’ve been obsessing about him, and I don’t know why. He’s not the first gorgeous man I’ve met. There are plenty of those in California. But he’s the first one that I’ve ever wanted to know.
‘I should go,’ I say. ‘I need to shower and get some sleep.’
‘Call me if you need anything, Samara. I mean it,’ Troian orders, her voice soft. ‘I’ll be on the first flight out.’
‘Thank you,’ I whisper, fighting tears again. I have no idea how I would have made it through the last few years without her and her family. Troian didn’t just give me a job. When she hired me to work at her family’s company, they adopted me. Her parents, Dom and Summer, treat me like one of their kids. Without them, I’d be entirely on my own.
Once we say our goodbyes, I pull my charger out of my bag and plug it in to charge my phone. I don’t have much with me, but Tate helped me carry it up before we went to the hospital earlier. As soon as my phone is charging, I grab clothes and head toward the bathroom for a long, hot shower.
It’s the only room in the apartment not completely made of glass. On a good day, this bathroom is a luxury. After spending the last week showering in the hospital shower, it’s pure bliss. The floors are heated. Hot water pours from three different shower heads. I use more than my fair share of the hot water, letting it beat down on me. For once, my mind is quiet. I think I’m too tired to worry and cry and stress anymore today.
I barely have my t-shirt and panties on when the bathroom door flies open, banging against the wall. I jump a foot into the air, my hand flying to my heart.
‘You left,’ Tate growls, glaring at me like a pissed off lion.
‘You scared the crap out of me!’
‘You left,’ he says again.
‘Visiting hours ended.’ My stomach sinks, anxiety shooting through me. ‘Did something happen? Is Scout okay?’
‘She’s fine, angel.’ He grabs me around the waist, hauling me up against his hard body before I can rush past him. ‘Nothing has changed.’
I sag in his arms, relief loosening my muscles all at once. ‘I thought…’
‘I’m an idiot.’ His palm settles against my abdomen, his nose sliding down the side of my face. ‘I scared you.’
‘Every time I leave, I worry something is going to happen,’ I admit, melting deeper into his embrace. I tell myself it’s just for a minute. That I’ll pull away again when my legs stop trembling. But I think I’m lying to myself. It’s been so damn long since anyone held me. His arms feel like heaven around me.
‘I’m not going to let anything happen to her, baby. I made you a promise. I don’t intend to break it now.’ His lips track down my cheek, his words a soft murmur against my skin.
Even though I shouldn’t, I tilt my head, allowing him access to my throat. His stubble scrapes my skin in the most wicked, delicious way as he attacks my neck with his lips and tongue. His hand tightens on my stomach, pulling me closer. His—oh, lord—his erection digs into the small of my back.
‘Why’d you leave?’ he growls against my skin.
‘V-visiting hours.’
‘Don’t apply to you, Samara. We both know it. Why’d you leave?’
He’s right. They don’t. I can come and go whenever I want. Parents and caregivers have access to the hospital twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It’s the saddest perk of having a child in intensive care, one no one ever wants to have to utilize and yet we find ourselves intensely grateful to have anyway.
‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.
‘You’re afraid.’
I nod miserably.
He stops kissing my neck and turns me to face him. One gentle finger beneath my chin angles my head back until my gaze tangles with his. I get lost in those dark emerald eyes again, in the emotion swirling through their depths. Yes, this man is bossy. Maybe even cocky and arrogant, but there’s so much more to him too.
‘Are you afraid of me, Samara?’
Am I? I give the question the consideration it deserves. He may be in a motorcycle club. That fact may scare the crap out of me. But I’m not afraid of him. Even now, knowing the truth, I feel safer with him than I’ve ever felt with anyone.
‘No,’ I confess on a whisper. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’
His pleased smile is pure sin. It sends a bolt of white-hot desire racing through my veins, liquefying them on contact.
‘Good girl,’ he rumbles, tipping his head down toward mine. ‘I’ll never hurt you, Samara. I’d fucking annihilate anyone who tried.’
‘I…’ I lick my lips, not sure thanks is the proper response to such a statement.
‘You and Scout are mine now, angel. I protect what’s mine.’
‘W-what’s yours? We’re not property, Tate.’
‘Never said you were. You don’t worship property,’ he murmurs, brushing his nose against mine. ‘You don’t adore and covet and spoil it. I plan to do all those things for you and Scout. And when she’s tucked away in her bed at night, sleeping peacefully, I intend to do it all over again just for you.’
Oh, lord.
‘I’m going to worship you on my knees with my tongue tucked between your thighs, Samara,’ he growls. ‘I’m going to spoil you with these hands, this mouth, and this dick.’
‘Tate,’ I groan, my head spinning. Is it normal for doctors to talk this way? Surely it isn’t. Gage doesn’t say these things, not around me anyway. And yet…and yet they sound perfectly right coming from Tate’s wicked lips. There isn’t another doctor like him in the world, I’m sure of it.
‘I’m going to give you the world, angel. As soon as you let me in.’
Let him in? I’m pretty sure he knows more about me in one day than Troian learned the whole first year we knew each other. Opening up doesn’t come naturally to me. My life has never been easy. It’s never been pretty. If I don’t count on anyone or get close to anyone, it hurts less when they inevitably disappear from my life.
‘Kiss me,’ he orders, rubbing his nose against mine. ‘I need one little taste to hold me over.’
I should tell him no, but I don’t. He’s in my personal space, working sex magic on my senses. I close the sliver of space between us, eagerly pressing my lips to his. For a protracted second, time seems to stand still. Neither of us move as electricity courses through me in a powerful deluge.
And then he grunts and I’m in his arms, my legs around his waist. His tongue thrusts into my mouth as his hands slip into the back of my panties, grabbing two handfuls of my ass. He grinds me against his erection, snarling like a starving lion.
I make the same desperate, needy sound, yanking on his hair, trying to get closer to him. Reality spirals away, leaving nothing but want and need and take. It’s primal, elemental, and somehow sexy as hell too. There’s something so raw about it, so unrefined. This isn’t some carefully planned seduction. This is desire in its purest form. It’s us, sparking like kindling and going up in flames.
‘Fuck yeah,’ he groans, biting my lip. ‘Rub that pretty cunt all over me, angel.’
I do. God help me, I do. I can’t stop myself.
We stumble out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, locked together like two connected puzzle pieces. Halfway to the bed, I realize the ringing in my ears isn’t blood pumping through my system. It’s his phone.
‘Tate,’ I gasp.
‘Say my name again,’ he growls. ‘Louder.’
‘Tate, wait. Your phone.’
For a minute, I think he’s going to ignore me, but he growls a curse and reluctantly fishes it out of his pocket.
‘What?’ he snaps, his eyes blazing with deadly heat as they track across my face. Oh my. He does not like being interrupted.
I can’t hear whoever he’s talking to, but whatever they say instantly snaps him into focus. The haze clears between one heartbeat and the next as he carefully tucks the wild man away and slips into surgeon mode.
‘When?’ he asks and then listens for a minute. ‘Call Dr. Davidson in from pulmonary and prep the OR. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’
For the second time in twenty minutes, my heart stops beating for a second before leaping ahead with a jarring thud. Tate notices. As soon as he disconnects, he tosses the phone onto the bed, wrapping both arms around me.
‘It’s not Scout,’ he says. ‘Breathe, baby.’
I suck in a deep breath, letting it out on a shaky exhale. ‘I thought…’
‘I know.’ He rubs my back. ‘It’s not her. It’s not going to be her.’ He carries me to the bed and sits down with me in his lap. ‘Look at me.’
I tilt my head back, meeting his gaze.
‘We’re performing her surgery first thing on Thursday morning,’ he says, his voice soft. ‘She’ll be in the OR before the sun rises.’
‘Thursday?’ I whisper, stunned. That’s only three days from now. I don’t know why, but I thought it would take longer. I guess I assumed it would take weeks to iron out the details, not days. She was in such bad shape when she got here, I think most of the other doctors never expected her to make it to surgery. They certainly haven’t been in a rush to get her into the OR, which is exactly why Gage called Tate. Honestly, I think they’re afraid to operate on her. They gave up on her before they even gave her a chance. Not Tate.
‘Thursday.’ Tate cups my cheek in his palm. ‘It can’t wait, angel. She’s getting weaker by the day. The longer we wait, the riskier it gets. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take with her or you. We’ve got to get in there now.’
I bob my head in understanding, tears of gratitude welling in my eyes. No, I’m not afraid of this man. How can I be? He’s fought harder for my niece in one day than anyone else has all week. I barely know him, but in this moment, a little piece of my heart falls into his hands.
I lean forward and press my lips to his before quickly pulling back.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper, roughly clearing my throat. ‘For fighting for her.’
He thumbs my tears away, bumping his forehead against mine. ‘You should know, I’m not just fighting for Scout. I’m fighting for you too. As soon as she’s out of the woods, I’m going to make you fall in love with me, Samara Lansing.’
I don’t tell him that I think I might already be falling.
‘You can’t boss me into falling for you, Tate,’ I say instead, rolling my eyes.
‘I’m not going to boss you.’ He picks me up again, smirking. ‘I’m going to spoil you with this dick until you forget other men exist. But keep rolling those eyes at me and I’ll be spanking that pretty ass as soon as I finish this surgery.’
‘I will smother you with a pillow.’
‘No, you won’t.’ He carries me to the head of the bed and pulls the covers back before depositing me beneath them. ‘Then you won’t have anyone to cuddle with tonight.’ He drops a kiss on my forehead before pulling the covers up over me. ‘Rest, Sleeping Beauty. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
‘You’re sleeping on the couch,’ I mumble, burrowing into the blankets.
‘Uh, fuck no,’ he growls. ‘I’m sleeping with one hand on my pussy, and the other over one of those sexy tits. You can be mad about it tomorrow.’
His pussy? Oh, lord. Why is that so sexy?
‘Dream of me, Sleeping Beauty,’ he orders on his way out the door.
‘Good luck, Tate,’ I whisper.
‘Keep wiggling like that and you’ll be finishing what you started last night, angel,’ Tate drawls from behind me, his voice gritty from sleep.
I freeze mid-wiggle, my stomach clenching.
His soft chuckle sends pieces of hair dancing along my neck. My skin turns to gooseflesh, my core igniting. God, he sounds even better when he first wakes up than he does the rest of the time, which is saying something because the man sounds like he could run his own phone-sex line.
His hand around my waist tightens, dragging me back toward him.
‘You snore,’ he murmurs, nuzzling his face into the back of my neck.
‘I do not,’ I gasp.
‘You do. It’s the cutest sound I’ve ever heard.’
‘I do not snore.’
‘You talk too.’
‘Do not,’ I whisper, praying I didn’t say anything horribly embarrassing.
‘What, exactly, is sex on legs?’ he asks, sending that hope up in a puff of smoke.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I sniff, deciding to play ignorant instead of answering that question. Maybe if I don’t encourage him, he won’t tell me what I said and I can live in blissful ignorance for the rest of my life. It’s better than squirming in shame for the rest of eternity. ‘I don’t talk in my sleep, and I’ve never heard that saying before in my life.’
‘Liar,’ he says, his deep chuckle vibrating against my back. ‘I bet next you’re going to tell me you weren’t moaning my name and begging me to kiss you.’
I gasp and flip over to face him. ‘I was not!’
His cocky smirk says it all. I was moaning his name in my sleep. And begging him to kiss me. Oh my gosh. I should have slept on the couch! But as soon as he turned out the light, I was asleep. I never even heard him come in last night.
‘You’re evil and I don’t like you,’ I mutter, glaring at him.
‘You seemed to like me just fine when you were—’
I slap my hand over his mouth, silencing him.
He laughs quietly, his sleepy eyes tracking across my face. How it’s possible for him to be even more attractive in the morning, I don’t know, but he is. There’s just something…delicious about seeing him all rumpled and messy. This is a side of him not many get to see, I think. The real him, not the one hidden behind his lab coat and confident smiles.
‘How did your surgery go?’ I ask, tracing the shadows beneath his eyes with my fingertips.
‘Good,’ he says. ‘My patient is going to be fine.’
‘That’s good,’ I whisper, relieved. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Sure.’
‘Why pediatrics?’
‘I played football as a kid,’ he says, watching me intently. ‘My best friend was on my team. He collapsed during a game one day. He had a heart condition no one knew about.’ A shadow passes through his eyes. ‘He was nine years old and went into cardiac arrest.’
‘Oh, Tate,’ I whisper. ‘Did he–?’
‘They were able to save him,’ he says. ‘But he had to give up sports, live life on the sidelines for most of his childhood. I decided then that I wanted to be the guy who kept other kids from going through that, so that’s what I did.’
‘That’s really sweet,’ I murmur. ‘Are you still friends?’
‘We are.’ He smiles at me. ‘Kaiden works in the film industry. Believe it or not, he’s a former stuntman.’
‘Seriously?’ I gape at him. ‘He was a stuntman with a heart condition?’
‘He was,’ he confirms, amusement lighting his eyes. ‘He retired after he was injured during a stunt. Now, he does a lot of stunt coordinating and training.’ He runs his hand up my thigh, sending a shiver through me. ‘What do you do, angel? You work for Troian?’
‘I write choose your own adventure romance games for the app-development side of her family’s tech company,’ I murmur, watching him through my lashes as he plays with the hem of my t-shirt. ‘I’ve been with them since they bought my first game.’ She didn’t even bat a lash at the fact that I was still in college. As soon as she played through the game, she and her dad hired me on the spot.
‘Choose your own adventure romance?’ He quirks a brow at me. ‘What the fuck is that?’
‘It’s exactly what it sounds like. I write a bunch of different storylines and outcomes, and then users decide what happens at various stages of the game. Do they go home with the hot firefighter or go home alone? Do they flirt with the single dad next door or slam the door in his face?’ I explain, smiling. ‘They’re a lot of fun to write.’
‘Are they dirty?’
‘Sometimes.’
He grins at me, waggling his brows suggestively.
‘How dirty?’
He would want to know that.
‘Well,’ I say, pretending to think about my answer. ‘I used to be involved in this secret club in San Diego. It was by invitation only. Some filthy things happened there. Like this one time, four different men took–’
I squeal when I land on my back with him on top of me.
‘If that sentence ends with them doing anything to you, don’t even think about finishing it,’ he growls, his eyes flashing holy fire at me. ‘And I need to know the name of this fucking club so I can burn it to the ground.’
‘I was just kidding, Tate,’ I say, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze. I didn’t intend to make him jealous, only to tease him back a little. ‘There was no club or four men. There were no men, for that matter. I’m, um…’ I squirm.
‘Say it,’ he growls.
‘I’m a virgin,’ I whisper.
‘Not for long,’ he says, slipping a hand between us to cup my sex. He grips it in his palm, his touch possessive. ‘This part of you is mine, Samara. No one sees it. No one touches it. No one eats it or fucks it but me.’
‘Tate,’ I moan, my body going limp beneath him.
He grinds his thumb against my clit, finding it with startling accuracy. ‘No one touches me either, Samara. Once I’m in you, it’s permanent. There will be no one else for either of us. God, I can feel how wet you are for me.’ He grinds his thumb against my clit again. Even through my panties, I hear the wet sounds of my sex. I know he can too.
‘Tate, I…I…’
‘You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?’
I nod, trying to fight it off, but I can’t. It’s too big, too powerful.
‘Do it, angel. Let me watch it take you,’ he breathes, eyes locked on my face as he slips my panties to the side and parts my slit with his bare thumb.
As soon as I feel his skin against mine, it’s over for me. A detonation sparks in my lower belly, setting off a chain reaction. Pow. Pow. Pow pow pow. I cry out his name, my back arching off the bed as waves of bliss crest and then crash down over me. They fling me this way and that, leaving me wrung out and trembling.
‘Beautiful,’ Tate whispers, capturing my lips with his. He kisses me hard and deep, his hand still between my legs. I cling to him, shaking as aftershocks work their way through me. He strokes me through them, gently bringing me back down.
I land in his arms, feeling better than I have since the police showed up to inform me about Siobhan. No, that’s not right. I feel better than I have in…ever.
He kisses me until I stop shaking and then gently slips his hand from between my legs.
I hide my face in the pillow when he pops his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean. He chuckles, pulling me into his arms.
‘I love how shy you are,’ he murmurs, running a soothing hand down my back.
‘I’m not shy.’
‘You are.’
‘Am not. You’re just cocky.’
He smirks at me.
I ignore him.
‘I have to head back to Silver Spoon Falls today, angel.’
‘Oh,’ I whisper, swallowing hard. Not sure what to say. Thanks for the orgasm, see you later? I’m not sure what to do here, but I suddenly feel awkward and out of my depth. ‘Um…’
‘I can hear you thinking all the way over here,’ he drawls.
‘Are you…glad?’
‘Am I glad that I’m leaving you here alone? Fuck no,’ he says, narrowing his eyes at me. ‘I’d rather spend the day at Scout’s bedside with you, bring you back here tonight, and fuck you to sleep. I know it’s the only way you’ll actually sleep. But I have patients scheduled this afternoon and then an MC thing this evening.’
‘Oh.’ I exhale a breath, relieved he’s not leaving because he doesn’t want to be here with me. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper. ‘Um…people in my life tend not to stick around for long.’
‘Then they aren’t worthy of being in your life,’ he says, tipping my head back to press his lips to mine. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Samara.’ He grimaces. ‘I’m going to Silver Spoon Falls today, but I mean, long term, I’m here. We’re doing this. I know you don’t know me well enough yet to trust me, but give me time. That’s all I’m asking for right now.’
‘Okay,’ I whisper, willing to give him that.
‘Actually, I lied.’ He grimaces again. ‘I’m asking for something else too.’
‘What?’ I ask, suspicious.
‘I want you to give my brothers a chance,’ he says, his voice soft. ‘I want you to meet them, see for yourself that they aren’t like the men who killed your sister.’
I exhale a deep breath, reaching deep for a little courage. If he’s asking for this, I think I owe it to him to try. Even if we end in disaster, I still owe him this much. These guys are important to him and right now, he thinks I hate them.
‘Okay,’ I agree, clinging to courage with both hands. ‘I’ll meet them.’
‘Yeah?’ he asks.
‘Yeah.’
His blinding smile makes me feel like a lion.
