Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(56)

Dust didn't get to be Prez thanks to his daddy. He'd gotten the patch because he was as hard, uncompromising, and relentless as he was reasonable.

“Yeah, sure, I'll give you my word. Here, girl, reach out your hand and shake.”

I watched him take her by the wrist. I couldn't breathe 'til I saw the familiar handshake I'd seen him use before when deals went down. Dust grabbed her wrist and pressed his fingers deep, like a Roman soldier feeling for a dagger.

I'd read about that when I was growing up, going through a spell where history's badasses intrigued me. Didn't have a clue where the Prez picked it up – it had to be intuitive, because I'd have bet every dime I had against him ever paying attention in any history class.

“There, babe,” I said softly, running my free hand through Meg's dark brown hair as they broke hands. “Satisfied?”

“No, actually.”

Fuck. My eyes jumped to the Prez. I could see the cold, frustrated, predatory edge creeping into his eyes.

“I don't have time for games, little missy. You'd better name whatever the f*ck you're after or drop it. I've given you my word, and any brother around here will vouch that it's pretty damned valuable. You think I'm a liar?”

Instinct took over. I stepped up, got between them, and looked the Prez dead in the eye.

“You know she isn't, brother. The girl wants to know she's safe, and I don't blame her, but you can't give her the assurance she's looking for. That's my job.” Meg's bright blue eyes flashed wonder and confusion.

I grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her into my chest, wrapping my arms snug around her sweet body, everything I wanted to own for the rest of my days.

“What's going on here, Skin?” Dust growled.

“I'm claiming her as my old lady. Right here, right now. Nobody's gonna stop me. This club won't ever make demands from a woman wearing a brother's brand.”

For a second, the whole world stopped. Meg tensed in my arms, scared and uncertain, but her eyes were wide. Filled with the desire, the need, the admiration I'd come to love.

The Prez just gawked, taking a few seconds to collect his senses. “Bullshit. You don't really mean it...do you?”

“You know me by now, Prez. I don't do idle talk. I don't say shit I don't mean, and I'd never even pretend with something like this. She's mine, dammit, I swear it.” I looked at Meg, ignoring his wild-eyed stare. “She was mine from the minute I saw her in that bastard's whorehouse. Mine from the instant I pulled her here and decided to get her home. Mine when she came back tonight. This is just making things official, putting a pretty formality on what we both knew. Now, I'm gonna make sure everybody in the whole damned world knows it – or at least every man in this club.”

“Jesus, Skin.” She whispered my name softly, her lips trembling.

Fuck it. I wasn't gonna let her break down or spit the confusion written on her face. I grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her to my lips. We kissed pure hellfire there in Dust's office, all while he watched in total amazement.

“I'd say you've lost your damned mind, Skin, but it's clear you've actually put some brains into this. Fuck me.” I forced myself off Meg's lips and looked at the Prez as he circled back behind his desk, shaking his head. “Listen, you two, before you make a big damned mistake...if she wants to get out of all this shit, this ain't the way to go about it. Does this girl even know what becoming an old lady means?”

I looked into Meg's deep blue eyes. No, she didn't, but I'd show her everything she had to know.

I'd lead her by the hand as sure as I'd master her in my bed every night. I already owned her, inside and out, and this was just making things official.

I claimed right here, right now, because I'd decided I couldn't let her slip away again. Not when she got scared of the club, or scared of me.

Not when she feared for her life, or wondered if she really fit in here. Not when she had any damned doubts about what I had for her beating straight through my ribs, the manic beat she put into my heart.

“I'll lead her every step of the way, Prez. That's between her and me. Give us twenty-four hours, and she'll be back here wearing my brand, PROPERTY OF SKIN.”

“Let your old lady answer for a change, if that's what she really wants to be,” Dust snapped. He sat up in his scrappy leather chair and pointed a finger at her.

“You've got my assurances, whether you think I'll honor that handshake or not. You don't need to do anything rash with this poor, desperate bastard if you don't want to. Say no, and I'll make sure he doesn't ride your ass. This is my club, and I've got the final say when it comes to who gets to be part of it. You really want to get yourself in deeper? Because there's no going back once you've got his name inked on your pretty flesh. You're his property then, and one more extension of the club.”

Fuck, the Prez made it sound like lock and key with no rewards. He didn't tell her that becoming mine meant I'd kill for her, keep my loyalty to this woman in blood, surrender the wild I'd known my whole life for her embrace.

I waited for her reaction. The next five seconds were the most tense of my entire f*cking life.

I'd done everything here on a whim, going by nothing more than the love in her eyes. Now, I was about to find out if that pure, sweet energy would be enough, or if the beautiful baby girl in my arms would panic, break, and go running back to the comfort and privilege she'd always known.