Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC 5)

Which is why I needed distance. A lot of it. Despite the fact my skin itched at the thought of it, my heart hurt at the prospect.

My fucking heart.

What was he turning me into?

He leaned forward to capture my neck in his hands. My stomach dipped at the contact.

Yes, I so needed to get away from him.

“I want you to come home with me,” he mumbled. “I want you in my bed.”

I scowled at him. “Yeah, like I said, the world doesn’t spin the way you want it. Nor do I do what you want.”

He regarded me. “You want it too.”

“No, I don’t,” I lied.

He yanked me closer so our mouths almost touched. “You’re a liar. You want it. You’re just too fuckin’ scared to admit how much.”

I pulled back, which was a herculean task considering how addicting those lips were. What came out of them? Not so much.

“I’m not scared,” I argued. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

Lie.

That was a great big lie. I didn’t used to be afraid of anything. When you’ve been in a foster home where a kid held a knife to your throat for taking their seat in front of the TV, you learned that fear helped no one. Especially not the little girl who met monsters in the dark, the real kind. I wasn’t afraid of monsters, or anything for that matter.

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.

Chapter Eleven

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

-Matt Baker

“What 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.