Repeat Offender (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 1)

“What are you doing today?” I asked. “Any more meetings? Or, um, Zoom things to do?”

He chuckled as he leaned his head backward into the spray. The water sluiced downward, starting at his perfect jaw, and continuing on to his strong neck, perfectly defined shoulders, and then further to his torso where he had a wicked set of six-pack abs. Hells bells, now that I was staring at him and watching the water move through the indentations those abs made, I saw that his V that I couldn’t get enough of was actually sort of shaped like a heart.

A. Heart.

It was literally a perfectly formed heart.

How did that happen?

Did he know he had a heart on his lower belly, the end resulting in an arrow darting straight to the promise land?

There was no way he would know.

The bad thing was, I wanted to point it out to him, but I didn’t want to offend him.

I bit my lip and turned my back on him to reach for the shampoo that was on his shower caddy thing that was built into the wall.

Shampoo that looked a whole lot like my shampoo—only the better version of it that only salons carried.

I looked at him over my shoulder, but he was busy lathering up his hair with what looked like 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner.

“Did you know that I use this same type of stuff at home?” I asked the man at my back.

Once I had a generous amount of shampoo in my hand, I slowly lathered my thick hair up until it was foaming and full. Then, I shoved my head underneath the water while I waited for his reply.

“I had a guy run by your place and do a little recon on what you would need for this morning after he dropped your car off at your place,” he admitted. “He used your key to get inside. I didn’t want to take your stuff, so I had him get replicas of everything. He packed a bag for you as well off of the clothes you had piled on the bed. I can’t promise that they’re going to be good seeing as they were picked out by a man who likely has no clue about matching, but you’ll have clothes.” He paused. “I didn’t have him get your underthings.”

I grinned at him.

“Why not?” I asked, acting like it didn’t bother me in the least.

He didn’t answer for so long that I opened my eyes, only to find him standing almost directly in front of me with his face inches away from mine.

“Because, last night, whether you know it or not, you became mine,” he said. He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t deepen it. Didn’t change anything in the way he spoke. Just a matter-of-fact tone that made my insides shiver in pleasure. “No arguments. No takebacks. No ‘I didn’t know what I was doing.’ You’re mine. End of story.”

I licked my lips.

I really should object to his high-handed words, but all I wanted to do was melt into a puddle at his feet.

I wanted to belong to someone.

It’d been so freakin’ long. I always felt like the world was against me, and for the first time, with Lynn’s eyes on mine, I felt like I now had a man stronger than the world at my back.

It was… exhilarating. Exciting. A breath of fresh air.

“What’s that look that keeps flitting through your eyes?” he asked, running his finger down the length of my jaw.

I licked my lips.

“I was thinking how it’s kind of nice to belong to someone,” I admitted. What was the point in lying about this?

I’d never had my heart broken. I’d never had a boyfriend. How could I have my heart broken?

I didn’t know that I needed to protect myself.

I probably should have, because a man like Lynn was supernatural, and I was just… me.

A weird goth-like girl that sometimes crawled out from behind her computer long enough to walk through nature.

His hand smoothed up the length of my jaw, coming to a stop as he cupped my cheek.

“That look on your face? I really don’t like it,” he grumbled.

I snorted. “That’s just my face.”

“It’s not,” he disagreed. “It’s doubt. Whatever you’re doubting, don’t.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I was thinking that you’re probably going to dump me later on, and I should be a little wary. But I can’t make myself do that because I feel like you’re trustworthy. And even when you do let me go, it’ll be gently.”

His eyes flared at that comment.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you go?” he asked curiously.

I laughed then, pushing him lightly with my hand.

“You’re the mayor of a city. I’m a YouTube and Instagram personality. We don’t match.” I paused. “But I’m going into this with that understanding.”

His eyes studied my face.