Hank stopped and faced her, holding both her hands in his. She cringed. “You should be used to it where you come from, Sable. By the way, you should consider changing your name. It sounds like a stripper’s name.”
She held her breath and bit her tongue.
“It’s hard enough being a cop with an ex-biker for a girlfriend. If you’re ever going to be my wife, a lot of things will need to change. It’s not me, of course, but people do judge.”
“Of course,” she managed to squeak out.
He exhaled, satisfied with himself.
“Let’s get something to eat.” He led them to the big pool house. She could smell meat being barbequed.
As they neared the building, she heard the familiar roar of motorcycles. The sound made her entire body tingle as it reminded her of Dog coming home after a run. She always looked forward to seeing him.
Hank heard it too and let go of her hand, rushing to the building where Grass and his higherups were. She walked closer to the road in an attempt to see the bikes. Was it the Hell’s Slaves or another rival club?
“Nice party.”
The voice from behind was so close to her ear she swore she could feel his lips.
She attempted to turn her body but he wrapped his arms around her waist first, keeping her in place.
“What are you doing here?”
“I can’t check up on my girl?”
“They’ll see you, Dog. You have no idea how many big names are at this party.”
“Oh, I have an idea or two.”
This time, she twirled her body around in the confines of his strong arms. “Did you kill anyone?”
He smirked.
God, he looked so damn sexy. There wasn’t anything he could do that would push her away. He smelled of leather and his rich cologne. She wanted to close her eyes and drown in him, allow him to fend off the world.
“Seriously, what’s going on?”
He stared down at her, not concerned in the least. Was he even listening to what she was saying?
“This dress, you pick it?”
She shook her head.
“It’s too fucking tight. And what is all this shit on your face?” He ran his thumb along her lower lip, then waited for her to take him in her mouth. Her pussy flooded with wetness. He pulled his thumb free, combing his hand into her hair.
“I’m playing a role.”
“A little too well,” said Dog. He wasn’t worried about the dozens and dozens of people around them. He didn’t blend at all. His entire focus was riveted on her alone. “You haven’t been to your house. I don’t like you being out of my reach. You’re getting way too cozy with the enemy, no?”
“I don’t like this any more than you, Dog.”
“Well, tonight, you’ll be in my bed.”
She gasped as his lips came down on hers. She melted against him—his strength, his confidence, his ability to get his way.
His tongue dominated, one hand roughly in her hair, the other squeezing her ass. When he pulled away, his eyes were intense. Everything about Dog was raw masculinity. “You gonna be able to straddle my bike with this dress?”
Was he actually planning on whisking her away, ending this fucked-up charade once and for all?