My second thought was, I’d forgotten how fabulous it was to wake up next to a warm body cuddling me.

My third, far saner thought was how the hell I was going to get out of there.

This thought flew from my head when he shifted again, and I felt his lips at my shoulder where he kissed me then I felt his body slide gently away.

Gently and carefully, going slow, his hand copped a feel of the skin on my hip, exposed by his tee, which had ridden up. Other than that, it was clear he thought I was asleep and he was doing everything he could not to wake me.

This was, unfortunately, what I was coming to realize was Hop. He tucked me in bed. He kissed my hair, forehead, temple, or shoulder soft and sweet whenever he left me. And he moved carefully in order not to wake me.

Making matters worse, he obviously thought I was asleep.

Still, before he left me, he kissed me.

The gesture didn’t even count for brownie points since he thought I was asleep and he still did it.

I didn’t want more confirmation of knowledge I was trying not to process and I wished I didn’t have it.

So I shoved it into the back of my head.

Then, as I lay there alone in his bed feigning sleep, the events of the evening before crashed over me. This forced me to exert not a small amount of sleepy effort in order not to process the fact that the evening before, I found out a badass biker cared about me and thus kept an eye on me, saved me from being raped, gave me honesty I refused to acknowledge, and then gave me four orgasms before he let me fall asleep in his tee.

This took a lot of effort, which was near on impossible without coffee. Therefore I heard the toilet flush before I realized that I should have taken the opportunity while Hop was in the bathroom to get dressed and get the heck out of there.

This was a moot point because I felt his presence in the room right before I heard a knock on the door.

I tensed.

I didn’t want anyone to know I was there.

I loved Ty-Ty. She’d been my family for a long time—true family, real family, the kind you choose, not the kind fate chooses for you. Tack and the boys had all welcomed me when they welcomed Tyra. They’d gone all out to protect Elliott and me, Tack especially. When I returned to Denver, they folded me in Chaos arms. Growing up close to a country club with a banker father and a wealthy, Southern farmer princess mother, I would not have expected I would feel comfortable in the bosom of that particular family. But if Chaos adopted you, the way they did it, it was impossible not to feel comfortable.

So I didn’t want whatever might come of someone finding out Hop and I hooked up. Even if it was over (something I would share with him again when we talked), it was not anyone’s business. I had an agency to run. I had employees and clients who depended on me. I had something happening to me that I didn’t quite get and didn’t have the energy to find a way to understand. I didn’t need to deal with whatever reaction anyone would have, most especially Tyra and Tack, if they found out about me and Hop.

No, I couldn’t deal.

So I didn’t want to be in the position of having to.

“Brother,” I heard Hop greet whoever it was quietly. “Not a good time. We’ll talk later.”

A knowing smile in his voice, I heard the reply, “Got gash in there?”

This voice I knew. High, one of the brothers. I liked High even if he was less approachable and good-humored than some of the other guys. He’d always been nice to me.

But at his words, my body tensed. “Gash” was one of the not-so-nice words the guys used to refer to women, not so nice in a way that I hated it, as any woman would.

“You like your nose like it is?” Hop growled and my eyes opened so they could blink.

He had been talking quietly, thinking I was sleeping.

Now he was unmistakably ticked in a way it was clear he didn’t care if he woke me.

“Come again?” High asked. His tone no longer smiling. He sounded surprised.

No, shocked.

“You like your nose like it is, brother, you shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Hop warned.

This was met with silence.

Hop broke the silence. “You not leavin’ tells me you got somethin’ to say. Say it. Got shit to do.”

“Tug and Roscoe were on patrol last night,” High declared.

Patrol?

“And?” Hop prompted.

“Three of them on the corner of Broadway and Mississippi.”

I stared at the pillow uneasily and with some confusion, since I didn’t know what these words meant, but I could feel a hostile wave rolling through the room.

“Benito put three bitches on a four-lane road that leads into the heart of the city?” Hop asked, his voice dripping with disbelief that was less incredulity and more hope that High would tell him he was joking.

“Dick has balls,” High answered, which I took as affirmative.

“Christ,” Hop muttered.

“Tug says they ousted them but those bitches know we got no beef with them so they got no danger from us. This means they ain’t scared of us. They’re scared of Benito. And you know that means, Benito sends them to a corner on Chaos, they’ll go back,” High stated. “Tack’s up the mountain, comin’ down. Roscoe reported in to him, Tack called me. You and me are up for patrol tonight. We find gash, he needs us to make a stronger statement than Tug and Roscoe can make.”

Oh dear.

What did that mean?

“Talk to Dog or Brick. Got somethin’ on tonight,” Hop told him and I closed my eyes.

“Tack wants you. You got a way with gash,” High replied, and I didn’t like the sound of that at all so I closed my eyes tighter.

“Talk to Dog or Brick, High. I got somethin’ on tonight,” Hop repeated, his voice low and impatient.

This was met with another long silence. Then, “I’ll talk with Dog or Brick.”

“Obliged,” Hop muttered and I heard the door click.

Moments later, the bed moved as Hop got back in it.

His body shifted right to mine, curving in, his hand finding the bunched up end of his tee and moving in, up my skin, toward my breast.

My body tensed.

His fingers curved around my breast, warm, claiming.

Sweet.

I pressed my lips together.

I felt him shift again before I felt his ’tache at my ear.

“Babe, know you’re not sleeping,”

I said nothing and continued to feign sleep.

Hop pressed closer. “Lady, you sleep loose and you’re wound up tight. I know you aren’t sleeping.”

I kept my eyes closed but asked, “Who’s Benito?”

His fingers around my breast curled tighter before they relaxed and his hand moved up to my chest. His body moved away from mine and I found myself on my back because his hand on my chest pressed me there.

Then his hand moved out of his tee as he rolled over me. I opened my eyes just as his fingers slid into the side of my hair and his thumb stroked light at my temple.

He looked good in the morning, his stubble around his mustache thick and dark, his eyes still holding a hint of sleep.

Not to mention, the thumb at my temple thing felt nice.

Gah!

“First,” he began softly, “good morning.”

“Good morning,” I replied, then asked again, “Who’s Benito?”

He grinned before his head dipped closer and his lips brushed mine.

That felt nice, too.

Then again, it always did.

He lifted his head and caught my eyes as he muttered, “She starts right up, not even waitin’ for coffee.”

“Who’s Benito?” I repeated.

He studied me.

Then he said, “You want it, baby, you got it.”

His hand moved to cup my jaw and I waited but not long.

“Depending on the brother, old ladies can be in the know or not. If they are, they don’t talk. Not to other brothers, not to each other. As for you, what you heard was unfortunate. I opened the door to get rid of who was behind it and I did it buck naked so I couldn’t move into the hall. That shit won’t happen again. Beyond what you heard, you aren’t gonna know.”

There were not many sentences there but, regardless, there was a good deal to go over.

“I’m not your old lady,” I declared.

He grinned and asked, “You aren’t?”

“No,” I stated firmly.

“In my tee, in my bed, after a night where my condom stash got lighter by three, lady. Beg to differ,” he replied.

“So that’s what it takes? A tee and sex?” I queried, my brows going up.

“No,” he answered, his voice going deeper, his thumb stroking sweet along my jaw. “Now, honey, since it’s time you got to know me, you’re gonna get to know me.”

Oh dear.

Before I could protest, he kept going.

“Got rules for the women I take to my bed. No sleep. Don’t ever wake up to a woman. It sends the wrong message. Really no fuckin’ tee. Bitches claim tees. I don’t need to be clothing half of Denver.”

“Is that how many,” I hesitated before saying with emphasis, “bitches you’ve had? Half of Denver?”

“Do you care?” he fired back instantly.

“No,” I lied.

“Liar.” He called me on it.

I shut my mouth.

He grinned but opened his. “You, babe, can have my tee.”

I rolled my eyes.

When I rolled them back he wasn’t grinning. He was smiling.

“You, it’s about bedroom eyes. Fuckin’ great hair. Long legs. A tight, sweet pussy that gets so fuckin’ wet, swear to Christ, every time I have it, don’t know whether to bury my face or my dick in it. Your perfume on my sheets. The way you look at me when I tuck you in bed, like I gave you diamonds, something precious, something you wanna keep safe, something you want forever. Woman like you could get diamonds just crookin’ her finger, so a woman like you shouldn’t find a man tuckin’ you in bed precious. But you do. It’s also about you tellin’ me you won’t take it there with me but, I kiss you, you ignite. Some men like a game. Others like a challenge.” His smile got wider. “You found a man who likes a challenge.”