Chapter 23

23

B eing with Elijah apparently meant I got special privileges – like being in the chapel. Normally, the chapel was forbidden. If any of us women got to clean in the chapel, it was with at least two members inside the room, watching our every move.

I understood it. All of us understood it. These men couldn’t take any chances that we would put something in the room that could incriminate them.

But today, Elijah had allowed me in the chapel by myself to clean it.

I had honestly stared at him for a good minute, trying to figure out if he was playing some sick prank on me. But when he just pressed a kiss to my forehead and strode off outside, the rest of the men following him, I knew he wasn’t.

He actually trusted me that much, and that shit warmed my soul.

He and Whitney had been separated for a good few months now. She hadn’t been around, though Elijah had to go to a shit ton of divorce hearings. Apparently, Whitney was trying to claim infidelity, but with no proof, she was shit out of luck.

But a couple of days ago, the divorce had been finalized, and Elijah walked away with everything, just as he’d wanted. And he was already in the process of selling their house and her car. I’d asked him why, but he simply said he wanted to start off fresh with me – didn’t want me in anything they used to share.

Hell, he had even had all the furniture in his apartment upstairs thrown out and had replaced it with all new shit.

And in the process, without my permission, he’d moved all my shit into his room.

That had been a pretty ugly fight, but he’d won and fucked me into submission. Hell, he had fucked me so good that he could have put me in a tent outside, and I probably wouldn’t have cared.

The man was a fucking sex god.

And I’d somehow ended up doing old lady shit without having the title of an old lady, but damn, the man pleased me so well that I didn’t even give a shit.

How sad was that?

I was wiping down the table when Elijah made an appearance. He stepped into the room, shutting the doors behind him. My nipples hardened on reflex when he flipped the lock into place, making sure we wouldn’t be disturbed.

A lock only meant one thing. This man wanted time alone with me, between my legs, and he didn’t want to be disturbed.

I coyly smiled at him as I set my cloth aside. “Where do you want me?”

He grinned. “Fucking love how well you know me, baby girl, but I’ve got a question for you first.”

I frowned, suddenly on guard. “Okay, shoot.”

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, blowing out a soft breath. He almost seemed . . . nervous. But that couldn’t be right. Elijah wasn’t the kind of man to get nervous.

“I want to claim you – officially,” he told me. “No more club girl status. You’re mine – one hundred percent. I take care of you – of every need you have.” My heart skipped a beat in my chest. This almost seemed too good to be true. “You’ll wear my name on your skin where every other bastard can see it, and you answer to me – only to me.”

I rubbed my palms on my shorts. “You mean that?” I asked him. This seemed almost too good to be true.

He nodded. “With every fiber of my being, doll. I want you to be completely mine.”

I moved around the table to stand in front of him, putting only about a foot of distance between us. “No cheating?”

He shook his head. “I’ll write a goddamn statement promising you fidelity and sign it if you want me to. I don’t want anyone else but you, doll. You’re more than enough for me,” he promised.

I hopped onto the table, beckoning him towards me with a finger. “Then I suggest you get busy claiming your old lady.”