Outside the Lines (Sons of Templar MC #2.5)(30)

I stilled. Everything he said was something I could have wished for.

“So you don’t hate me?” I asked in a small voice.

“Jesus, babe, I could never hate you. Not when I love you more than anything in this world. Not when you own my heart,” he said firmly.

I sagged. Then I pounced. I pushed at his chest and managed to roll him, so I was straddling him. I didn’t waste any time, I attached my mouth to his, kissing him with a brutality I didn’t even know I was capable of.

All I knew was I needed him, and I had to have him inside me in that moment. It had to be rough and hard and all consuming.

The way his hands yanked off the tee I was wearing while he rolled me back onto my back and cocked my leg roughly to circle his hip, I knew he needed it too. His other hand tightly encircled my neck, not to the point of pain, but enough to make me feel, make my only thoughts be of him and his body.

“Need you inside me, now,” I demanded hoarsely, my mouth inches from his.

“Gonna eat your * first,” he growled, kissing me firmly before working his way down.

I cried out as his mouth fastened on my clit after paying close attention to my nipples. I was already ready to climax as he devoured me like a starving man. It was relentless, nowhere near the gentle, teasing way his mouth normally worked me. So, when I exploded it was a reflection of the brutal way he brought me to climax. I couldn’t even hold in my scream, especially not when his body settled over mine and plunged into me, hard, rough, and beautiful. His thrusts pounded against my tender flesh, causing the tension to build right as it had just settled. I could barely breathe as his mouth took control of mine, plundering it while he pounded into me, the taste if my arousal on his lips.

“You’ll always be mine,” he promised against my mouth. “Always, no matter what.”

His words were enough to send me over the edge once more, enough to take me past the brink of coherent thought. My mind only on the pleasure.

Hansen’s whole body turned taut and he buried his face in my neck, latching his teeth and marking me as he came.

When we were done, we were both sticky with sweat from our frenzied lovemaking, both breathing hard. Hansen hovered above me, watching me. He kissed my nose gently.

“I’ll always love you, babe, no matter what,” he said quietly.

Maybe it was the post orgasm glow or the resolution in those words, but something made me believe him. Made me think that despite the mess I was in, everything was going to be okay.





“Something Grim said before, got me thinking,” I murmured, tucked up against Hansen’s chest.

It was late. After we’d made love, Hansen had left to get us some food, which we ate in bed. He then made love to me again, this time slower, gentler, but no less mind-blowing. We had lain in silence a long while, until now.

“Yeah, babe, what’s that?” he asked.

“You were already planning on killing him?” I didn’t say his name. I never would. I’d heard somewhere that someone died two deaths. Their actual physical death, when they took their last breath, and another kind of death, when everyone in the world stopped saying their name. I had taken care of the first death, I was hell bent on taking care of the second as well.

I felt the chest below me tighten. “Yeah, we were,” he admitted.

I moved my head up to meet his eyes. “Why?” I whispered.

Hansen’s face turned hard. “Arianne called me not long after I left you yesterday,” he started.

I flinched thinking of the way that day had started. What he’d told me about his mother. I could only focus on one thing at a time, though. So I listened.

“She was worried you might have succumbed to alcohol poisoning, her words not mine.” He grinned slightly. “So she told me why you decided to disappear into a vodka bottle,” his voice lost all amusement. “Soon as I found out, I knew I’d be making sure that f*cker didn’t breathe free for long, not after what he did. Told the boys, they were happy to assist.” He searched my face. “Fate has a f*ckin’ warped sense of humor, babe.”

I furrowed my brows, not understanding.

“Stephen Ross was a patched member of the Sons of Templar, New Mexico charter, just over fourteen years ago,” he told me.

My entire body froze. “No,” I whispered.

“Yeah babe, he was a member. That was until he tried to get himself rich while he double crossed the club. Betrayed his brothers.” H is voice was sharp. “I wasn’t a member then, babe, but Grim and Levi were. So they remember the blow that was. Blow they couldn’t return when he found himself incarcerated for murdering a couple in their own home.” He watched my face as the blood drained from it. “Grim’s been waiting for the f*cker to get out of prison, to exact revenge with his own two hands,” he carried on. “When he got word the f*cker got paroled, he reached out, pretended that the past was buried. Of course, just before Ross rolled into the club, we learned his connection to you. What he did. That knowledge had Ross’s fate become infinitely darker. A lot more bloody.”

I gaped at him. “This is too freaky to believe,” I said finally.

Hansen’s arms tightened. “Yeah babe, the universe works in f*cked up ways sometimes. In the end, Ross got what he deserved. Club got the revenge it craved, even if it was at the hands of a pixie-haired half pint who radiated light and goodness,” he said softly.