Reaper's Legacy (Reapers MC, #2)(110)

“First, some of them probably were that stupid,” he admitted. “But those are your fingerprints, babe.”

I looked at him blankly.

“You probably wouldn’t remember, but that night you had Noah?” he said. “You hunkered down on the side of the road and held my shoulders while you pushed him out.”

I realized what Ruger was saying, and I reached up, laying my fingers on the tattoos again. They fit perfectly.

“I don’t even know how to explain that night to you,” he said. “It was so intense, Soph. I had no idea what we were doing. I’ve never watched anything like it, never felt anything even close. You worked so hard to bring him to life. All I could do was hold you, hoping I didn’t f*ck something up. You squeezed my shoulders so hard they hurt for days. You dug in your nails, you left bruises, the works. Christ, you were strong.”

I thought back to that night, remembering how I’d crouched on the side of the road. The pain. The fear.

The joy of holding Noah for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He snorted at me and grinned.

“You didn’t hurt me, babe,” he said. “You marked me. Big difference. That night was the most important thing that’s ever happened in my life. Holding you, catching Noah—it changed me forever. I didn’t want to forget. So when the bruises started to fade, I went and got them inked, so I couldn’t.”

“Damn,” I said, touching the spots lightly with my fingertips. “I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I felt him harden under me, and he smirked.

“Sweet enough to get me laid again?” he asked. “Because I’ve told the story to women before, and it works every f*ckin’ time. Can’t get their pants off fast enough after that. Hate to think you’re the one girl who can hold out, considering it’s about you.”

I started laughing, and then he rolled me over, pinning my hands over my head. My laughter faded as his cock found my opening.

“Love you, babe,” he said, sliding slowly into me. “Promise. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know,” I whispered back to him. “You always have been. I love you, too, Ruger. And I swear, you tell that story to any more girls, I’ll cut that ink right off you.”

“Noted,” he said with a grin.

I reached up and kissed him as he hit bottom, slowly working in and out of me, grazing my clit with every stroke. I lifted my legs to wrap them around his waist, closing my eyes against the sun and letting the sensation of his thick cock spreading me soak through my entire being.

I loved this man.

I loved how he held me, loved how he cared for my son, and loved how he always fixed whatever f*cked up, horrible things went wrong in my life.

As he rocked into me gently, I could hear the guests partying down in the courtyard, music drifting upward as people shouted and cheered and made the most of what had to be one of the last warm days of the year. Maggs was down there, and Em and Picnic and Dancer and Bam Bam … It wasn’t just Ruger, I realized. All of them had helped me, even when I’d judged them for being Reapers.

But the Reapers were part of Ruger, and Ruger was part of me.

He hit particularly deep, and I started laughing.

“What the f*ck?” he grunted without pausing.

“You’re a part of me,” I said, giggling.

He paused, raising a brow. Then he rotated his hips slowly and deliberately, making me gasp.

“Damned straight,” he said, smirking. I grabbed his butt, urging him to start moving again, and he didn’t complain. Within seconds I’d forgotten about the party below and focused on the sensations building inside. He moved faster, plunging into me, scooting my butt across the blanket with the force of his thrusts.

“Shit, I’m close,” I muttered.

Ruger grunted, then pulled out of me abruptly, rolling to his back and gasping for air.

“What the f*ck?” I demanded.

“Want to give you something,” he said, his voice tight. I sat up and glared at him.

“No. You have the world’s shittiest timing.”

He laughed, although there was definitely a note of strain in the sound. He shook his head, sitting up and leaning over to dig through the backpack he’d brought up with us. Then he pulled it out. A black leather vest.

A vest that said “Property of Ruger.”

My mouth dropped open, and I took a deep breath.

“Ruger—”

“Listen to me first,” he said, eyes intent on my face. “You’re not from my world, so you don’t know exactly what wearing a vest like this means.”

“Okay …” I said slowly, although I couldn’t imagine anything he’d say that would make me comfortable with it.

“You look at this and see the word ‘property,’” he said. “But what it really means is you’re my woman, and I want everyone to know it. I live in a harsh world, babe. A world where bad shit happens, you’ve seen that for yourself. But no matter what goes down, my brothers have my back. This vest means you’re one of us. Those aren’t just words, Sophie. We’re a tribe, and every Reaper in the club—men you don’t even know—would die to protect a woman wearing this vest. They’d do it because they’re my brothers, and because it means more than any ring ever could in our world.”