“We keep our eyes open. We don’t leave our women alone, and if the fucker comes at us again, we do somethin’ about it. We don’t go lookin’ for trouble, Sy. We wait. If the fucker is dumb enough to make a play again, we’ll be ready and will take him down,” he says and I don’t miss his hidden promise. If Chad fucking Morre comes at us again, it doesn’t matter how above the law he is, we will take the fucker down.

“Holly and Kadence both have their restraining orders out on him. As far as I’m concerned, he fucks with us one more time, we take him. Until then, don’t get fucked up over the fucker. He will get his time,” he finishes as I start to calm down.

I don’t like it. I’d much rather head over to him and fuck him up, but that won’t get us anywhere. We need to play this out safe and make sure that if he does come for us again, we’re prepared.

“Fine, but if the time comes where this goes to the next step, it’s me who takes him. I don’t give a fuck what’s happening, I end it. You feel me?” I ask, looking at both Beau and Nix.

“We feel ya,” Nix nods.

“Good, now get the fuck out. I gotta go see my woman,” I tell them, looking at the clock on the wall.

“Fuck, always thinking with your cock,” Beau laughs, shaking his head. “Careful, you’re beginning to sound like Jesse.”

“How is he anyway?” I ask, my rage calming.

“He’s doing okay. Still refusing surgery,” Nix answers.

“Why?”

“Fucked if I know. He says he ain’t goin’ through it again. Some fucked up bullshit. But we’ll see how he goes. Can’t even ride at the moment and his parents are on his ass, naggin’ him. Anyone would think he was a teenager again.”

“You know anything about that?” I ask, remembering how his parents were riding his ass the night of his birthday.

“Won’t talk about it. Some bullshit about family loyalty; they don’t like the club life and have no problem tellin’ him.”

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, the fucker is a hero. They need to back the fuck up,” Beau says, flicking through one of the Ink Me tattoo books.

“You tell that to his dad,” Nix says, shaking his head, knowing more than I do.

“I’ll have a word with Jesse, get him to think straight. Besides he can’t ride; the fucker will be going mad,” I say, but knowing Jesse, he’d probably still try to fucking ride.

“We have a family dinner Kadence is putting on next week. We want you there,” Nix says, pushing off the counter.

“I’ll talk with Holly,” I tell him, walking around flicking off the lights.

“Wasn’t a suggestion. You be there. Kadence is worried about her and you keeping her locked up isn’t makin’ her feel better.”

“Like I said, I’ll talk to her. My main concern is Holly, not your woman,” I warn back.

“Look at you two, so fucking pussy whipped it makes me sick,” Beau accuses, coming up behind us.

“Fuck off, Beau,” we both warn while still holding each other’s gaze.

“You talk to your woman and I’ll talk to mine,” Nix compromises and I agree.

“Glad we sorted that out. Now can we quit fucking acting like pussies,” Beau adds, slapping us on the back.

“Yeah, yeah, asshole, it’ll be you one day,” Nix accuses as we follow him out.

“Never. The day you see me handing my balls to a woman is the day hell freezes over.”

“Never say never, fucker,” I tell him as I lock up the shop, realizing just how far my life has changed in the last year. Never in my wildest dreams would I see myself settling down with a woman again, my child growing in her belly. Fuck me, I didn’t even think I would let anyone in. Holly changed all that for me, changed the direction of my course, and if that had to happen with an exchange of my balls, I don’t even give a fuck. I couldn’t be happier.

“I’ll remember this day, Beau,” Nix warns, mounting his bike. “And when you start walkin’ around ball-less, we’ll all remind you how fuckin’ pussy whipped you really are,” he laughs and I join him. The fucker has no idea, and the day it comes, I can’t wait to give him shit over it.

***

“So, Mom and Dad are having a family dinner next weekend,” Holly says, resting against the counter watching me make pancakes the next morning. It’s been ten days since her concussion and finding out about the baby.

“What sort of dinner?” I turn to look over at her. I love waking up in her place, walking around her kitchen, making her pancakes while she sits on the counter chatting.

“I was hoping it could be a ‘we’re getting married, Mom and Dad, oh and you’re going to be grandparents too’ dinner. Do you think you would like to come?” she asks, looking nervous. We've held off telling her parents for the last week, with Holly wanting to wait until she was twelve weeks along. ‘The safe period,' she tells me.

“Are you asking me on a date?” I smirk, walking up and standing between her legs.

“Ha-ha, smartass,” she says, squeezing my nipple. I repay the action by pinching hers back.

“You want to come out to your mom and dad at a family dinner?” I question, starting to freak out a little. Fuck, I didn’t think this through.

“Yeah, I need them to know about my baby daddy.” She smiles big at me.

“You want to feed me to your parents,” I tease her softly.

“And my brother,” she adds.

“Oh, shit. That bullhead brother of yours?”

“Oh, he thinks that about you, too,” she smiles with a guilty smirk on her face.

“Fucking great,” I sigh, not looking forward to that meeting.

“Don’t worry. He’s found himself a new girl. He’s totally pussy whipped,” she laughs, hooking my neck in her grasp as she pulls me toward her. “Kind of like you,” she murmurs against my lips. I don’t respond to her little bite, just take the kiss deeper and pull her closer to me. She wraps her legs around my waist, her hot pussy rubbing against me.

“You think I’m pussy whipped?” I finally ask. Her eyes are glazed over, and her lips are red from our rough kiss. It’s the second time I’ve been accused in the last twenty-four hours.

“Not at all,” she sweetly replies.

“Holly, I’m not whipped,” I tell her, stepping back out of her grasp to finish breakfast.

“No, I believe you,” she says, sliding off the counter.

“What are you doing?” I ask, watching her lift her dress. She hooks her thumbs into the sides of her panties and seductively drags them down her thighs.

“Oh, nothing much, I just want to see how not pussy whipped you are.” She kicks her panties up at me and jumps back up on the kitchen counter.

“Removing your panties isn’t going to make me cave,” I tell her, catching them and bringing them to my nose to breathe in her scent.

“Did you just sniff my panties?” she laughs, watching me pocket them in the back of my pants. I shrug, going back to watching her.

“Of course you didn’t, ‘cause you’re not pussy whipped, baby,” she purrs. Her voice sexy as fuck, while her fingers trail up her pale soft thigh. Jesus.

Her legs spread giving me the perfect view of her bare pussy. She’s a temptation; I’ll give her that.

“You don’t play fair,” I admit, forcing myself not to give in. I’ve got this. She won't win.

“You know, baby. If you were pussy whipped, you wouldn’t be able to handle this right now.” She continues to tease me as her fingers dance over her lips, spreading them to show me just how wet she is. Fuck me.

A growl erupts from my throat at seeing her spread out for me.

“Are you hungry, baby?” Her raspy voice all but breaks me.

“So fucking hungry,” I reply, watching her fingers slide into where I desperately ache to sink myself.

“Then come and get something to eat, Sy,” she all but begs. She doesn’t have to ask twice. I step forward, drop to my knees, and bury my face in her sweet cunt.

Her scent invades me, intoxicating me. Her moans fill her kitchen, the cries of passion only spurring me forward. Her hands come to my head, her short nails rake along my scalp.