I said. “You’re mine. End of story. Any of them has an issue with it, I’ll be glad to show them the door right after I beat the hell out of them.”
“So bloodthirsty.” She smiled. “I think I like it.”
“You’re not going to try and run? Or refuse to stay with me?” I asked, thinking of Charlotte’s response when I’d said I wanted to make her mine.
She tipped her head to the side and studied me. “Why would I? Am I supposed to be scared of being yours? Do you want me to fight back and say it’s not what I want? I’d be lying, but…”
I didn’t know what to make of her. She’d made herself at home in my bed, let me fuck her hard and without protection, and didn’t balk at me laying claim to her. Yeah, she played by the same rules I did, but still… I’d expected more resistance.
“Are you lulling me into a false sense of security?” I asked.
She snorted and started laughing. “Why the hell would I do that? What’s so confusing about all this? You said I was yours, I agreed, and… what? I don’t get it. Should I throw a tantrum or something?”
I rubbed my hand across the whiskers on my jaw and tried to think of the best way to put it, without pissing her off. Last thing I needed was her getting jealous when there was no reason to be. “I wanted to claim a woman a few years ago. This life wasn’t right for her, and she left. Saw how Lilian ran from Dragon, and I know of others who didn’t agree so easy when their man decided they were getting promoted to old lady status. You’re not what I’m used to.”
She’d grown still at the mention of another woman, but I didn’t see any hurt in her eyes. If anything, she seemed to be attempting to puzzle things out. I could almost hear the gears whirring inside her brain as she pieced things together.
“My mom was given to my dad when she was seventeen. He didn’t claim her in more than name back, then and let her go live her life with the understanding she’d return when she was eighteen. Except she didn’t. She ran. When she was ready, she showed up at the clubhouse and that was it. He made her his that very night, and she’s never once regretted it.
“So maybe my view of things is a little different. It never crossed my mind I’d end up with anyone other than a biker. My daddy is the President of the Dixie Reapers. My grandfather is the notorious assassin Casper VanHorne. I was born for this way of life, Eric. So if you want me to be all girly, throw a fit, and squeal about how unfair it is, you’ll be waiting a long time. It’s never going to happen.”
Damn. She really was the perfect old lady. And I knew I was lucky to call her mine. “And the age difference? It doesn’t bother you?”
“Have you ever met my parents? My dad is about thirty years older than my mom. So no, I don’t have a problem with it, and neither can they unless they want to be hypocrites.”
I couldn’t contain my smile. “Remind me to have a front row seat if you ever decide to tell your dad he’s a hypocrite. Torch isn’t someone to mess with. Even if I don’t personally know him all that well, most clubs within several hundred miles know of him, and not to piss the man off.”
She sighed and cuddled closer. “Honestly, I’m waiting on the day he decides to step down. He’s in his late sixties, and while I’d like to think he’s invincible, I think he’s close to wanting to retire. Or whatever the hell an MC President does when he hands the reins over to someone else. He’s always muttering I’m too old for this shit and his bones are creaking more with each passing year. But if you tell him I said any of that, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”
“You think he might hand it all over to someone else?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I think Mom would prefer for him to. I can tell she likes having him home. The days he doesn’t do any work for the club, she smiles more. He always made time for us, but Portia, Hadrian, and Ivy are still young enough they need him more than I do.