“Come here.” I hook my fingers under the space in her collar and give her a little tug. Her pupils blow, and I have to remind myself how much the club means to me. It’s the only thing that stops me from taking her right here. Tearing my gaze from her, I yank on the brass handle and usher her inside, keeping my chest pressed to her like an overprotective guard dog. Placing my palms on either side of her waist, I guide her up to the bar, sensing the eyes of one too many slobbering bikers trained on my precious flower.
Now if I speak-
