“No, just on the couch,” Rake quips.
He and Faye give each other a dorky high five.
And I find Blade and get the hell out of here.
* * *
“You did what?” Anna laughs, jaw going slack. “Holy shit. That sounds hot. Glad I didn’t see you naked there though, getting pounded by Tracker.”
She rubs her hand over her mouth. “You kinky little thing, you. Well, makes sense. Tracker was probably fucking Zada Ryan, not Lana Brown.”
I pinch her arm. “Can you lower your voice?”
We both glance around the café. “No one heard me. Besides, only porn readers would recognize the name.”
I scowl. “It’s romance, not porn.”
She shrugs. “Faye thinks it’s porn. She says she and Sin have the best sex afterward because she’s so turned on.”
I sigh, resting my cheek on my palm. “There are no boundaries in that clubhouse, are there?”
Anna shakes her head ruefully. “No. But then again, most families are like that. Maybe not to the point of having sex in front of each other, but otherwise? No boundaries.”
I slap her shoulder, but let the former part of her words sink in.
She’s right. “I should just move in with Tracker, shouldn’t I?”
“If you think he’s the one. It’s up to you. I would though, if I were you,” she admits, then arches her brow. “Plus I like the thought of having you there.”
“I’m hardly ever home,” I say. “I haven’t seen my mom in what feels like days.”
“How is she doing?” Anna asks, sitting back in the booth. “Any more news from your dad?”
“Mom is good. Busy working. Nothing from Quinn, no.”
I didn’t know how to feel about that, so I’m blocking it out.
“How’s it going on the baby-making front?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Been two months and nothing yet, but I read for some people it takes a longer time. Unlike Faye who got knocked up in one night.”
We make a few jokes about Sin’s expert swimmers.
“I better head to class,” I say, standing up. “Are you going to the zoo?”
She nods. “Yeah, then back to school.”
“Students by day, old ladies by night.”
“And porn writers,” she adds cheekily.
“And baby makers.”
We grin.
* * *
I don’t tell Tracker I’ve decided to move in. Instead, I just move in. I bring a suitcase with everything I’ll need for now and unpack my clothes in his drawers. When he walks in and sees me, the biggest smile takes over his face.
“’Bout time.”
“You’ll get sick of me soon enough.”
“Never,” he replies. “You want some help?”
“I’m good. I might need more space though.”
“I’ll make some for you,” he says, removing his T-shirt and throwing it on the floor. His jeans come off next, and then his boxer briefs.
“Want some attention, do you?” I ask, taking him in from head to toe.
My own Adonis.
“Always,” he replies, the gleam in his eyes telling me he wants me. Now.
I slam the closet door shut and stalk toward him.
Priorities.
TWENTY-THREE
TRACKER
MY woman has moved into the clubhouse.
Fuckin’ finally.
Stubborn little thing she is. I smile as I watch her sleep on her stomach, the covers sitting on the curve of her round ass, showing off the cute dimples of her lower back. I want to trace the indentations with my tongue. I make a mental note to do so later.
She really is something. Fascinating. Infectious. Someone I just want to keep behind my body, protected from the realities of the world.
A treasure.
I’ve been with many beautiful women, had more than my share, and I enjoyed them all. I love women. Their smell, their gentleness. Softness. The sighs they make, the smell of their hair.
Every fuckin’ thing.
But Lana, she is my woman, not just one in a crowd.
I’ve never felt so connected to a person before. I’ve never cared what someone thought so much before. I’d never given someone the ability to hurt me, but I’ve shared that with her. As Faye is to Sin, and Anna is to Arrow, Lana is to me. The woman born to be on the back of my bike, holding tight, living life with me to the fullest. I have a voracious appetite for life—I love to eat, fuck, ride, make jokes, and mess around with everyone. Make people around me laugh. I love my brothers, my club—and now that I have Lana to share my life with, I love her more than anything else.
I don’t even know how it happened.
I’ve never been a possessive sort of man, but now I realize that’s only because I’ve never cared so much. I didn’t think I’d find anyone who fit me, which is why I usually just settled. Being with Lana isn’t settling. It isn’t easy, but it is right. I don’t really know how someone who lives the kind of life I live could fit with someone like her. She’s sweet, a little on the geeky side. Tiny little thing. Looks like a strong wind could blow her away. But she’s tough on the inside. She fights with herself daily, I see it, and she fights to be stronger. To say what she feels, to not hold back. To try new things. To break out of her introverted shell. She loves my brothers as much as she loves me.
Love the man, love the club.
I can’t even explain my obsession with her.