Outside the Lines (Sons of Templar MC #2.5)(12)

He made a sound signifying his own release, his mouth inches from mine.

We stayed frozen, breathing heavily. I searched his face, letting the beauty of the moment sink into my soul. His hand traced my lips lightly.

“That…” he began roughly, “…was the beginning of me being the only man to possess that sweet *. The only man who sinks into that tight velvet,” he declared firmly. “That…” he continued, “…was me finally claiming what’s mine.”

I blinked at his words, my heart soaring, but being unable to fathom it. “It’s always been yours,” I whispered, sounding like a lovestruck idiot, but not giving a shit.

He blinked, then moved to claim my mouth.

We didn’t speak for a long while after that.





“Take these,” Hansen commanded, dropping two pills into my hands.

We were standing in his small, but impressive kitchen. Me with wet hair, both sipping coffee. I was wearing one of his tees, which reached almost my knees. He was wearing jeans, the top two buttons undone.

I struggled to move my eyes away from his defined ‘v’ and dark hair peeking out from below.

“Usually, I only take E at raves and dubstep concerts, but okay dude,” I told him seriously, shrugging my shoulders.

He smirked slightly.

I took the pills, washing them down with my coffee.

His hands stroked my spiky hair gently. “You in much pain, baby?” he asked gently.

I still wasn’t used to his gentle words and the fact he was touching me with such tenderness, so it took me a moment to register his question. “Nah, nothing I can’t handle,” I replied honestly.

He gave me a look, then jerked his head to the breakfast bar. “Sit, I’ll make you breakfast.”

He kissed me firmly before patting my behind slightly and turning to his fridge.

I padded wordlessly around the kitchen island and moved to perch on one of his stools. I swiveled to admire the view his sliding doors had of the dry and rolling landscape. Not another house was in sight and it seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere, the only two people left on the planet. I swiveled the chair back to an arguably better view. Hansen’s back, which was not only corded and muscly, but covered in the club’s insignia. I struggled not to drool into my coffee.

We didn’t speak for a few minutes, the sizzling of the pan and clanging of pots and bowls serving as the only noise. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but I wasn’t one to do well with not speaking for long periods of time. I also, it seemed, wasn’t one to revel in a moment I had been dreaming of for a year.

“What gives?” I asked suddenly.

Hansen turned his head around, raising his brow in silent question.

“Well…” I continued, “…you don’t seem to show any interest in anyone. Then you corner me in the kitchen last week and kiss the shit out of me. Then inform me you don’t want me. Then this…” I waved my hands between us. After my mind caught up with my mouth, I mentally chastised myself. Could I not just revel in the moment of relative domestic bliss with the man I’d been pining over? No. Me and my stupid mouth had to question the why of it, potentially setting flames to it all.

Hansen’s face hardened and he turned his attention back to the stove, moving the pans from the heat. Then he rounded the counter and moved my stool so he was standing in front of me. His hands framed my face.

“Just ‘cause I didn’t show any interest in you doesn’t mean I wasn’t interested, Macy,” he said softly. “I was. Fascinated in fact, by this girl who seemed to radiate happiness and goodness. This girl didn’t belong in the life she’d chosen, she deserved something more, something better.” He searched my face. “So I waited for her to realize that. For her to see her kind heart and gentle soul would get trampled if she stayed. But I lost my restraint, my willpower, that night I saw you dancing like you didn’t have a care in the world, like your life was sunshine and rainbows.” His hand played with my short, cropped hair. “Been punishing myself for doing that, babe. For getting a taste of something, I shouldn’t have let myself have. Last night, watching you get thrown across the room like a f*ckin’ rag doll,” his jaw hardened, “I decided I wasn’t waiting anymore. You gonna stick with this life, you’re going to do it belonging to me. I’ll make sure nothing tramples over you, ruins the goodness that’s endured,” he informed me firmly.

I blinked at him. This was all moving at the speed of light. I felt like I’d just won the emotional lottery. How could getting knocked out at a biker bar equate to getting everything you’d always wanted?

I swallowed. “It doesn’t bother you…” I started carefully, “…that I’ve been with...” I started to voice my hidden fear, needing to know now if the position I’d chosen in the club was going to make him think of me in that way forever.

He silenced me by pressing his hand to my lips, his eyes hardening. “Yeah, it bothers me,” he clipped tightly.

My heart fell.

“That I was pursuing some f*cked up reasoning, and by doing that, all my brothers in the club got a taste of what I’ve always considered mine,” he continued. “Lost sleep over that f*ckin’ shit. Almost lost my mind….” He paused, his hand moving from my lip to my jaw. “Do I think of you any differently? No babe. That shit was on me. You’ll always be the girl that radiates happiness and goodness, the one with no f*ckin’ filter, and a brain that comes out with craziest of shit.” The hands at my jaw tightened. “My girl,” he finished.