Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi by Karen Renee (best life changing books .TXT) 📗

reading in Har’s bed, but I wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do. Like he said, he wasn’t going to analyze it and I figured I’d give him his space.

Within minutes of reading, my eyes grew heavy, and I nearly conked myself in the head with my book. Having done that before, I decided to set it aside and closed my eyes for a bit. The moment Har got home, I figured the sound of him moving around the house would wake me up.

The feeling of moving hit me before I could open my eyes. I turned my head only to bump into something warm and soft.

“About time you woke up, Combes. Christ, you’d sleep through the zombie apocalypse.”

I giggled. “Not true. Zombies are loud and they groan. You must have come through the front door. Thought I’d have heard you.”

He side-stepped through the doorway of the small hallway, and my brain kicked into gear.

“You can put me down now.”

“Don’t feel like it.”

“Is that your answer to everything?”

He looked down at me with hooded eyes. “Trust me, you don’t feel like it either.”

“I don’t?”

He grinned. “You don’t.”

When he put me on his bed, his body followed me, until he pinned me to the mattress. “Now, what in the fuck is the big idea bein’ in that room?”

I blinked as a shiver stole over me since his bed was ice cold. “What do you mean?”

His emerald eyes widened. “I mean, you’re gonna be in a bed around here, you’re in this bed. Especially after what happened last night.”

I gave a small grin. “I appreciate that, but a brick isn’t coming through the window twice in two days.”

He pushed away from me a touch. “Not the only thing that happened last night, woman. Though, you don’t know that someone isn’t willing to bust a new window just to be belligerent. But, maybe you missed what I said late last night. The moment my cock sunk inside of you, you’re mine. If you sleep, you sleep here, even if I’m not.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my breath catch. “I wasn’t sure, you said—”

He kissed me silent, but it was entirely too short. “What I say now matters, so pay attention, Combes. As long as this is good, you do all your shit in here. Reading yourself to sleep, showering, whatever. Not on the other damn side of the house.”

“So noted, but I don’t like it.”

He sat up. “Come again?”

I sat up. “You want me on your side of the house so you can wake me up and do shit with me. What happens when this goes bad?”

“You picking a fight with me?”

I closed my eyes, turned my head to the side and sighed. Looking at him again, I made sure my expression was neutral. “I’ve been burned before, Har. Badly. I can’t afford for something like that to happen again.”

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna fuck you over for money, Stephanie. Hell, I do some shit like that, you have my express permission to cut my balls off. No way I cheat a woman out of money. Seeing what Mom went through after Dad died, I know how hard it is for a woman to earn as much as men, so fuck that. I’d never do that shit.”

“That’s not the only thing that he did, but whatever. I get what you’re saying.”

His eyes narrowed. “What else did he do?”

Shit. I walked into that one.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’ll leave my past-relationship baggage behind me, and spend my evenings in here, all right?”

His lips pressed together for a long moment and I thought he might force the issue with me. Instead, his finger tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Good, baby. Now. I’m hungry as fuck, so I’m gonna bring some of that pizza back here, and—”

I felt my nose scrunch up. “You’re gonna eat in bed?

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Crumbs. Then there’s that cornmeal stuff on the bottom of the pizza,” I grimaced, “Nobody needs that in their bed, Michael.”

He swatted my leg playfully. “Fine, but you come in the kitchen too, woman. I had a prospect do a liquor run for me. There’s more beer and some wine if you’re into that shit.”

I followed him out of the bedroom wondering why I needed to watch him eat, but it wasn’t like that was a hardship. I’d watch him do many things, because he had that much masculine beauty.

As I wandered into the kitchen, he had taken the pizza box out and tore a piece from the pie. Then he proceeded to eat over the island with the box wide open.

My brows furrowed. “Cold pizza? And no plate, no nothing? Really, man?”

His head tilted marginally. “Why not, Stephie?”

A quiet chuckle slipped past my lips. “Why wouldn’t you put it on a paper towel at least so you could nuke it?”

Around a mouthful of pizza, he said, “Cold pizza’s the best.” He turned back to fridge nabbed a beer, popped it open, took a big swig, and after he swallowed, he continued. “You ain’t livin’ right, Steph, you think all pizza’s got to be warm.”

My face fell as I looked down at the island. I looked up at him with big eyes. “You are undoubtedly the first man I’ve ever met who doesn’t warm his pizza when he can.”

A goofy grin split his lips. “Like I always say, if you ain’t first you’re last.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. That’s a poker saying and not the least bit applicable here.”

He took a huge bite of crust and gave me a wink, which made me smile.

Part of me wanted to ask him why he was at the clubhouse so late tonight, but I didn’t want to be That Woman.

“What are you thinking about, Combes?”

I pulled out a stool and sat down before I smiled. “Nothing, Har.”

He tucked the pizza box back into the fridge. Then he looked at me over his shoulder. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not