Claiming His Forever (Battle Born MC #8) - Scarlett Black
PART 1
Three years ago…
Chapter 1
Spider
The cool afternoon breeze flows in, calmly running over my skin. Sitting at the bar, I wait for one of the brothers to stomp down the hall. But the sounds never come and what I don’t expect to walk in is a petite brunette. Burning fire and sass light up her deep brown eyes. She spikes my interest, churning my gut in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Brightly, she looks around the room, seeking what she is craving. At this point, it’s not clear to me. Even though her intentions appear to be confident and relaxed, something is missing. Every move I catalog, her shoulders are drawn downward slightly as if the weight of the world hangs there. Smooth and steady is her go-to mask, when I would bet she wants to rip apart her reality. But that would show too much, reveal the passion that lies beneath the surface. This woman, although strong, doesn’t notice the baggage anymore. She hides behind her own self-imposed rules to protect herself. From what though? Probably a man, or men.
I drop my gaze to my bourbon before she catches me observing her. Introductions are made around the room until they reach me. She holds her hand out for me to shake. “Jazz. Nice to meet you.”
Slowly, and with the least amount of effort on my part, I slowly looked up. Instead of shaking her outreached hand, she dropped it with a huff. “Is that your real name?” Sarcasm drips from my words and mocks her bold, playful demeanor. I stand to my full height to tower over the tiny woman and take a swig of my bourbon before I react to her dilating pupils. Her eyes draw me in, and I cage her body with mine against the bar. The raw intensity and fire from her anger is beautiful. Her body coils and is ready to strike back, but she won’t, not in the way she really wants or needs. That would show the world what she holds close. Curiosity has my own interest captured. I need to poke at the woman until all her secrets are mine. The heat from our bodies mixes in with the tension of the standoff, electrifying the air. All the frustration of the world that I feel, I cast her way, a challenge I can’t help but be drawn into, to touch something I could ultimately destroy. Can she handle a man like me? Or will she run from a man who is closed off to the world, play it safe and find a partner who won’t challenge her? She likes to be in control, which will make it that much sweeter to make her unravel it all.
Jazz’s face scrunches and her hand presses against my chest, firmly halts my movement. “It’s Jazmin.” She practically growls the name at me. Behind her, Axl throws his arms up, knowing I’m hopeless. And I want it that way. He’s practically sawing off his neck at me in an attempt to get me to fall in line and be polite.
“How fucking cute,” I smirk at her. “Like the Disney princess, Jasmine.” I scrunch my nose back at her before my face falls, then take a step back. Her hand falls to her side before she makes a fist. Casually, I take another sip of my drink. Fucking women. I’m in a foul mood and I need a quick, hard fuck, something intense where I can work out the stress and settle my racing mind. This small woman would likely run off crying at the first crack of my hand across her ass and I can’t have that nonsense. I crave a strong woman who can keep up with me not only physically but also mentally. Can she play in the shadows of my mind and find her way out?
“Not a fucking princess, asshole, it’s Jaz-meen. Hispanic, dickhead.” She gives me her best sneer. “Let me guess,” she pauses and taps her chin. “That big, ugly bug on your neck would make you Spider. Original. Shitty ink. I could do better.” She spits her distaste for me and my tattoo while she turns on her heel and stomps off in the opposite direction.
Well, well, well, that was most definitely unexpected. I know who she is. Since Vegas and her crew of bitches popped up in our lives, I’ve done some investigating. I haven’t dug deep enough to know much about Jazz, just the family