Page 51 of Make or Break

I chuckled. “The security company sent him footage of us kissing. We dodged a bullet with that one. Volt gets those emails sometimes, and we’d really be in the hot seat.”

“Ulk, no,” she said flopping away from me with a groan.

I rolled and hovered over her in plank position. “It’s fine, babe. You know out of all the brothers, he has no right to judge.”

“Yeah,” she said, a grimace still resting on her face.

“What are you weirded out about?”

She closed her eyes for a beat, then looked up at me. “I’m probably sharing too much, but I’m nothing like the twenty-somethings Lark goes for because I’m not throwing myself at you for one night. Or at least, not any more. I want this, what we have, and all that comes with being with you.”

Something that felt incredibly light hit my chest. “Wild child, are you asking to be my old lady?”

Her head tilted on the pillow. “Like it works that way.”

I lowered myself closer. “That doesn’t answer my question, sweetheart.”

After a long blink and an exhale, she said, “Yeah. If my family wouldn’t disown me, I’d love it if you’d make me your old lady.”

“You better mean that, Mickayla,” I said, lowering all of my weight onto her.

She widened her legs and my hips dropped. This put my erection in line with her wet pussy.

“Why?” she asked, her voice husky.

“Because there’s no divorce or annulments on being a biker’s old lady.”

“Right,” she whispered.

I drove my hips forward, my cock sliding halfway inside. “You want me to be your old man. Not just a fuckfest.”

“Honey,” she said, her voice pleading.

I pushed in to the hilt. “Say it, baby.”

“I want you to be my old man.”

To the day I died, I’d never forget her saying those seven words to me because that was the moment I fell in love with my wild child.

It was too soon to tell her I loved her. Instead, I lowered my lips to hers and kissed her while I let my actions speak louder than words.

I hadn’t made love with a woman in a long damn time. The way Mickayla stared up at me, I think she got me. But without the words, I was only making assumptions.

Soon, though. She would know. Hell, my brothers would know. And I’d take any punishment they doled out because the idea of being without this woman would be far worse than stripping my tat, my skin, or any physical blow they landed on me.

Chapter 13

A Way of Acting Out

Mickayla

“I want to meet him,” London said.

“Are you kidding?” I laughed.

“Not at all. You’ve spent the last two weeks — closer to three if we include your Christmas shenanigans with him. I don’t see you quitting, so I should meet him. And, unlike other people in your life, I don’t judge.”

“Yeah,” I hesitated.