Chapter 7

7

MAVERICK

I held up my vest for Molly to stick her arms into, and when she did so without hesitation, I brought her close for a deep kiss. When I pulled back, I couldn't help grinning smugly at the dazed expression on her beautiful face. I wanted to take her back to bed and turn the simmer in her green pools into an inferno. To kiss every inch of her skin, lick every adorable freckle, and spend a fuck of a lot more time playing with her sexy as fuck piercings. But I had shit to do before I could take her back to bed.

Taking her hand, I walked with her through the clubhouse and out the front gate onto the street. Iron Inkworks was only two blocks away, so we were there in a few minutes.

I held the door open, and she stepped inside, then stopped and breathed, "Whoa." Her eyes scanned all around, taking everything in, and even though I'd had nothing to do with the business, I couldn't help feeling proud at her awed reaction. Mostly though, I was relieved, because if she'd hated it, it would have made shit much harder.

The style was industrial, with concrete walls and floor, exposed beams, pipes, ductwork, and even metal grates separating the workstations. It would have been very stark and bleak if not for the rich, brown leather furniture, sepia-toned photographs on the walls, and other touches like a vintage jukebox, potted plants, and an old wood-burning stove "fireplace" in the waiting area.

"The vibe here is awesome," Molly murmured.

"Maverick."

I tore my gaze away from Molly to meet Whiskey's light brown eyes as he walked toward us with a scowl on his face—basically his permanent expression. Whiskey was our sergeant at arms, managed Iron Inkworks, and was an unbelievably talented artist. He wore his cut with a white T-shirt underneath that showcased his full sleeves on each arm, going all the way down to his fingers. His neck was also covered in ink, a design very similar to mine. We'd served in the military together, and the tats had meaning only to us.

"Whiskey," I said with a lift of my chin. "This is my woman, Molly."

Whiskey's brows rose, and his eyes dropped to my girl, then back up to me. "Yours?"

"Mine," I confirmed, tucking her into my side. "Know you're always looking for good talent. So I brought her to meet you."

"I am," he drawled, scratching the dark scruff on his chin. "How much experience does she have?"

" She is right here and can speak for herself," Molly snapped.

Whiskey wasn't trying to be an asshole just for the sake of being one. He was taking stock of her strength and thick skin. He wasn't aware of her background and wanted to make sure she could hold her own around a bunch of bikers.

I grinned but didn't say anything because she could run circles around him if she wanted to.

"Well?" he grouched when she didn't continue. "I don't have all fucking day."

Molly blinked and replied in a too sweet voice, "I'm sorry, did you ask me a question?"

One corner of Whiskey's mouth twitched—the most I'd ever seen him smile. "Experience?"

She popped a hip out and put her hand on it, looking up at him with a haughty expression. I wasn't sure what it said about me that I found it so damn hot. Then again, everything Molly did make me want to drag her to the nearest flat surface and fuck her.

"Why don't I just show you my portfolio?" She held out her arm and flipped it up to show off an intricately colored butterfly on her forearm. Then she bent over and shoved up her pant leg to reveal another design that was more incredible than the first. After that, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and started to raise it.

Before she could show more than a glimpse of her skin, I growled and put my arms around her from behind, yanking the sides of my vest closed. "That's enough proof," I muttered. "Molly is incredible, and you'd be lucky as fuck to have her working here."

Whiskey rolled his eyes and motioned for us to follow, then turned and headed back into the shop, stopping when he reached the first empty station. "I agree that you're very talented," he grumbled to Molly as he crossed his large arms over his broad chest.

My lips tipped up again when Molly didn't even glance at him before prowling around the small area and inspecting everything.

He watched her with a critical eye, observing how she handled the equipment and gauging her familiarity with it. "We have a new client in ten minutes. You can do his ink. Show me what you've got."

I frowned at my brother, my eyes arrowed in warning. "No."

Molly whirled around and glared at me. "What do you mean, no? We agreed?—"

"I agreed to let you work here," I stated firmly.

Whiskey grunted. "Relax, Mav. The tat is on his fucking shoulder."

It was on the tip of my tongue to argue, but Molly's stance deflated a little, and I knew I'd have to give in. As much as I hated her being so close to other men—especially when they weren't someone I knew I could trust—I wanted her to be happy. "Fine," I gritted through clenched teeth. Her beaming smile made it worth it, but I still had conditions. "I'm not going to pretend the thought of you being so close to other men doesn't make me want to fucking kill someone, but as long as no clothes need to be removed, I'll keep my finger off my trigger."

Molly cocked her head to the side and studied me for a moment, and then she sighed. "Deal."

I reached out and captured her wrist, tugging her into my body, then put one hand on her hip and the other cradling the back of her head. "If I see one asshole trying to touch what's mine…" I growled.

"I'll break their wrist," she informed me haughtily.

Laughter burst from my chest before I sealed my mouth over hers. Fuck, I loved this woman. Feisty and sweet all rolled into one.

My tongue slipped into her mouth, and the hand on her hip slid down to her ass. Molly moaned and melted into my arms, giving as good as she got. I deepened the kiss, determined to make sure she wouldn't forget who the fuck she belonged to while I was out doing shit.

I was seconds away from dragging her to the nearest room with a door when the clearing of a throat broke through our passionate haze.

"Take it back to your room, Mav," Whiskey grunted. "Actually, let her breathe and move your ass because her client will be here any minute."

Reluctantly, I eased off the kiss, giving Molly a cocky smile when she clung to me as if she needed help staying upright. I fucking loved that she was so responsive and as affected by me as I was by her.

After a minute, she inhaled deeply and took a step back. Looking up at me, she shook her head. "Stop looking so smug."

Before I could reply, the door opened, and Fox stomped in, calling my name. He jerked his head toward the office, and I nodded. "Hold tight, princess," I told Molly with a quick, hard kiss to her lips. Then I followed Fox into the other room, shutting the door behind me.

"Shit went sideways at the port," Fox muttered without any preamble. "The shipping containers were mislabeled, and it's gonna take a day for our contacts to sort it. Since he's not on this run, I sent Storm to handle shit there."

Storm was our road captain and coordinated all of our runs, but he also led most of them because it satisfied his wanderlust. He was also an expert negotiator.

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the wall. "He'll get it done. I'll get on the phone with Cordell and let him know that it will be a partial delivery. Stone can take the rest up when?—"

Fox held up his hand, cutting me off. "Cordell already called me, pissed as fuck. He's paranoid and demanded I be the one to escort the final shipment."

"Then I can go to the port, and Storm can go on this run."

Prez shook his head and sighed, sitting on the desk behind him. "You know what I'm going to say, Mav."

"No." I wasn't going to let that bastard drag me away from my woman the day after I brought her home. While shit was still unsettled with Mac.

"You know we'll protect her."

I trusted my brothers with my life, but things with Molly weren't that simple. I'd never be able to be truly secure in her safety unless I was the one there to watch over her. "And if her dad figures out what happened and loses his shit?"

He ran his hands through his short hair and exhaled harshly. "I'll deal with Mac. Just get on the road and get back fast."

"Cordell and I are gonna have words about this bullshit, Fox. I'm tired of his bullshit. You know he only demands to work with you or me because it makes him look as though he's in control of the situation?"

"Showing off for the rest of the family by only dealing with the top of the food chain. I'm aware," Fox said dryly. He sat for a few beats, clearly thinking through something, then he stood and nodded. "Fine. Try not to lose him as a client but make it clear that he doesn't call the shots anymore. He doesn't agree, we'll cut him loose."

"Done." I pushed away from the wall and yanked open the door. Once I stepped over the threshold, my eyes immediately sought out my gorgeous redhead. A man around my age was sitting in her chair, and they were talking quietly. He was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, a leather vest, and leather cuffs on both wrists.

I rolled my eyes because there wasn't a wrinkle, stain, or any sign of wear on anything. The poser was trying to look badass since he was in a shop run by an MC. But his three-hundred-dollar haircut and manicured hands more than gave him away.

Molly was sketching and hadn't looked up at him once, which made me feel a little less homicidal when I noticed him checking her out. I stalked over and pulled her to her feet, then grasped her ass and hoisted her up so she had no choice but to circle my hips with her legs.

"What…?" she asked…clearly confused at what was happening.

"Kiss me," I demanded in a low growl.

"Maverick, I have a client," she hissed. "I'm working."

"Kiss. Me." My tone brooked no argument, and having grown up in my world, she knew that if she didn't do as she'd been told, I'd lose credibility.

She glared at me for half a second, then wound her arms around my neck and brushed her mouth lightly over mine.

"That is not how you kiss your man, baby." I didn't just kiss her, I possessed her mouth, claimed it, forced her to submit, acknowledging that she was mine. My cock was rock hard, and I couldn't help rubbing her against it as I devoured her. She moaned and tightened her arms around me.

Being with Molly was intoxicating, and I almost forgot where the fuck we were, and that we weren't alone. But as much as I'd needed this to tide me over while I was gone, I'd also needed to stake my claim.

"What was that about?" she asked breathlessly when I finally let her up for air.

"Who do you belong to, Molly?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she pressed her lips together, clearly irritated as she realized what I'd been doing.

"Molly," I snarled. "Who do you belong to?"

After a few breaths, she huffed and admitted, "You."

"Damn fucking right. I gotta go on a run, baby. Should be back in a few days," I told her. The spark of disappointment in her green pools soothed some of my raging possessiveness. "Fox was supposed to be the one going, but something came up that takes priority. The people involved will only deal with him or me, so I can't send anyone else instead. Fucking hate leaving you."

Molly sighed. "I know. I'll just keep myself busy until you get back."

I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger. "Wear my cut anytime you aren't in our room, do you understand?"

"Okay," she agreed. I slowly exhaled in relief that she didn't put up an argument.

"Be good." I kissed her again before setting her on her feet, then turned to go find Whiskey.

He was in the office Fox and I had just vacated, so I stepped inside and rapped my knuckles on the desk, drawing his attention from his computer.

"Shit with Cordell. Fox needs me to take over this run."

Whiskey's eyes darted behind me before meeting mine again, then he gave me a chin lift. It was his way of telling me he'd watch out for my girl, keep her safe.

Grunting my thanks, I stalked out of the office, snatched one more kiss from my woman, then left to get this shit over with.