Blood & Bones: Ozzy (Blood Fury MC 9)

He shut up when his attention got caught on her tongue licking along her bottom lip. She wasn’t doing it to be sexy, she was doing it because she was nervous about something.

That wasn’t a good sign.

“My decision has nothing to do with the club or the Fury blood running through my veins, Ozzy.”

“Don’t blame you for not feelin’ any kinda loyalty to the club, sweetheart. I struggle with it every fuckin’ day myself.”

“Even if I stayed, my loyalty would never be to the club.”

Even if I stayed…

Fuck.

As he opened his mouth and sucked in air so he could respond, to prepare himself to try to convince her otherwise, she lifted a hand to stop him.

During the last month he spent a lot less time talking and a lot more time listening. It had to be the hardest fucking thing he ever did, right after swallowing his fucking pride and dropping to his knees for Shay in Boston.

But now was one of those moments where he needed to keep his fucking trap shut.

Even so, he braced.

“It would be to you.”

His knees wobbled as he stared at her. He locked them so he’d stay upright. “What?” he forced up and out of his throat.

“My loyalty—and my love—belongs to you, Oz. And only you.”

He blinked. Should he ask her to repeat it again? Because that was what he wanted her to do. It needed to be on a continuous fucking loop so he could hear it over and over for the rest of his fucking life.

“Why ain’t you upstairs?”

A frown creased her brow. “Because I came down to talk to you.”

“Need you naked.”

She glanced around, that frown deepening. “Right now?”

“Fuck yeah, right fuckin’ now.”

“I—”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Upstairs. Now. Naked. Don’t make me fuckin’ throw you over my shoulder and carry you upstairs. Might scare the fuckin’ guests. Worse, might fuckin’ pull somethin’, then I won’t be able to give you what I wanna give you…”

Her lips rolled inward, but he could see the corners of her eyes crinkle.

“Don’t act like you don’t want it,” he warned. “Can’t hide that shit from me.”

She finally allowed the smile she was fighting to cross her face. “Should we race upstairs?”

“Not unless you want me to die before I get to fuck you breathless.”

Her dark eyebrows lifted. “Breathless, huh?”

“Damn right. Hope you don’t got anythin’ on your fuckin’ schedule… ‘Cause shit ain’t gettin’ done for the rest of the day.”

“It’s only ten a.m.,” she had the balls to inform him like he would give a fuck.

“And?”

“And…” She bit her bottom lip and turned, heading toward the rear door of the office. “And nothing. Do you need assistance getting up the steps, old man?” she threw over her shoulder as she reached for the door handle.

“You said ol’ man wrong,” he warned her.

“No, I didn’t. I meant what I said.”

He growled and rushed her, snaking an arm around her belly and spinning her around, making her squeal. He bent his knees and managed to throw her over his shoulder. He did his best to stifle his groan. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, if I need medical attention after this, it’s your fault.”

“I’m willing to be your nurse,” she said on a breathless laugh. “I’m sure I could find a cute little outfit to wear.”

“Fuck yeah, woman. Might be worth a sprain or two.”

“Depends on what you sprain.”

Somehow he got her balanced on his shoulder without dropping her, yanked open the door and ignored the shocked look on Marilyn’s face as he hoofed it up the stairs to his apartment with his woman over his shoulder.

Not his apartment. Their apartment.

With each step he took, she let out a squeak. At least that covered up his groans.

He managed to get her into their bedroom and tossed on the bed without breaking anything on her or him.

Thank fuck he had a jar of IcyHot because he sure as fuck needed it after that. But every damn ache and pain would be worth it.

Shay would now be permanently in his bed and in his life. Even better, she loved him. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

Okay, maybe he could.

He hoped she’d be willing to continue to expand her sexual horizons.

But only if she wanted that. And if not, he was okay with that, too.

Either way, he was sure of one thing. Shay was the only woman who’d ever be in his heart. She’d be the only woman who’d wake up every morning next to him.

She’d also be the only woman who’d ever wear his cut.

Outside of that, anything else she consented to would be a perk. But as long as he had her, he was happy.

Most importantly, he’d spend the rest of his fucking life making sure she was, too.

“When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways - either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits, or by using the challenge to find our inner strength.” ~ Dalai Lama