face and wait for her to continue.
“We never really…but, uh, have you…you know…?”
By the little crinkles on her forehead and anxiety in her voice, I don’t need her to finish the question.
Part of me wants to lie because she won’t believe me anyway.
“Have I what?” I force some lightness into my tone. “Given anyone else a ride on my beard?”
She doesn’t laugh.
I shift my weight forward so I’m staring straight into her eyes when I give her the truth. “No.”
Relief flickers over her face, followed by, just as I’d guessed, disbelief.
Can’t blame her. If someone had told me five years—hell one year ago—I’d be turning down free pussy because I was inside-out over a chick who lived two thousand miles away, I would’ve laughed my ass off. Loyalty and brotherhood are the main reasons I joined the MC, but I’d be a fuckin’ liar if I said tapping as much club ass if possible wasn’t also on my list back then.
“Really?” Her brow wrinkles again. “I saw the party downstairs. It must be like that all the time.”
Worse, actually. Upstate’s tame compared to downstate. Although, Z has cleaned up our downstate clubhouse a lot since he took over. Still, some nights you could film a movie on the decline of the Roman Empire in our clubhouse.
“I’ve been busy.” I lean down and kiss the tip of her nose. “Besides, every time I close my eyes, I only see one girl.”
“Who?”
She really needs to ask? “You.”
You’d think she’d look happier after that declaration.
Shit, maybe there’s a reason she’s not turning cartwheels. “I don’t expect you to say the same thing.” I barely force the lie past my lips. I’m ready to hunt down any motherfucker who’s touched Shelby and—
“I haven’t either.”
“Why?”
“Well…” She reaches up and strokes my beard. “I’ve been pretty busy myself.”
“I saw the line of fans dying to meet you tonight. Saw the guys with their marriage proposals. Never figured there were male groupies.”
“Oh, yeah,” she drawls. “Some of ’em are super sweet. Bring all sorts of presents with ’em. Then they’re too scared to talk to me.”
I growl. Why didn’t it occur to me to bring her anything tonight except my hard cock and a handful of ‘wanna ride my beard’ jokes?
“Others offer to take me to hotels, or ask me to invite them onto the bus, or into my dressing room.”
Another low growl I can’t control rumbles out of me. “And?”
“I haven’t met anyone else with such a kick-ass beard.” Her big eyes and tilted lips are at odds with her teasing words.
“That a requirement for you?”
“It is now.”
“So, you’ve got guys handing out marriage proposals every night, Ms. Morgan?”
“It’s Miss Morgan.” She wiggles her brows at me. “Ms. Morgan if you’re nasty.”
I snort with laughter. “Please, you weren’t even born when that song came out.”
“Neither were you!” She taps the side of her head. “A good musician knows music from every genre and decade.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Maybe I’m biased but watching her performance and then Dawson Roads’ show were two different experiences. Everything about Shelby’s music is genuine and from her heart. She’s so fucking talented, I’m not sure the world deserves her. Then again, neither do I.
Keep giving her the truth. “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
“How is that possible?” She runs her fingers down my chest.
I hold one hand up in front her face, wiggling my fingers. “I re-named this one Shelby and the other Morgan. They work fine.”
She snort-giggles, rolling toward me until her head’s resting on my chin.
I draw back, staring down at her. “What do we do about this situation, Shelby?” Jesus Christ, am I really the one initiating this conversation? Right now? Tonight? My dick’s ready to go feral if I don’t get it inside her soon. That stellar blow job wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy me.
Her body stiffens. “What do you mean?”
My inner commitment-phobe recognizes where her fear’s coming from. “I’m not asking you to leave your tour or stop what you’re doing. I’m not even asking you to move up here after your tour’s over.” Not yet anyway.
Underneath all her sassy, southern charm, I’ve always sensed Shelby’s skittish when it comes to…whatever the hell I’m proposing here. I haven’t been interested in being in a relationship since high school myself, so I don’t hold it against her.
She blows out a long breath. “Thank you.”
I twist my index finger around a wet, blond wave. “I want to see you more often, though.”
“You do?”
“Hell yeah.” Honesty. Just be