He didn’t give a fuck. He just held her to him and drew patterns on the upper swells of her ass.

He gave her time to get sorted before he announced, “That’s a fuckuva lot better than an alarm clock.”

She giggled.

While he savored a sound that he liked a fuckuva lot, they heard a soft thump at the side of the bed.

High tensed but Millie stretched away, reaching out to turn on the light. Then, bottom half still mostly on him, she collapsed her top half so some of it was on the bed, the rest of it was hanging over the side.

“Hey, babies. Hey, cuties. You trying to get up on the bed with me and Snook’ums?” she cooed.

High rolled, curving into her as well as looming over her.

Poem was sitting by the wall close to the door to the bedroom, staring at them.

Chief was close to the bed, backing away from Millie.

The night before, neither kitten had done much but hide and sleep. Millie got them to the litter box she’d set up in the small laundry room off the kitchen. She’d showed them their food and water. She’d wiggled some toys around them. But they were tuckered out from the drive and wary of their new surroundings, so mostly they hid under furniture and snoozed.

She’d wanted to collect the kittens and take them to bed with them.

High told her they’d survive the wilds of her fancy-ass house on their own.

She’d given in.

Now they were exploring.

She reached out a hand to Chief as the kitten blinked his big, baby blue eyes at her, then looked up and blinked at High.

“It’s okay, Chief. It’s good, sweetie pie. You’re welcome up here,” she promised.

Chief backed up, shifted to the side, looked to Millie and High, then backed up more, only to take his shot, run his hilarious kitty run, take a flying leap all too soon and not near high enough. He hit the side of the bed and hung there by his claws before he gave it up and fell to the floor.

He scampered out of the room.

Poem scampered out after him.

“I don’t know if that’s cute or sad,” Millie said, and High looked down at her to see her gazing after the cats.

“Babe, they’re eight weeks old. They’ll get big and strong enough to make it to the bed.”

She twisted her neck to look up at him. “I should get up. Make sure everything’s okay. Make sure they have food. Fresh water.”

“You should. But before you do that, you should kiss your man.” He landed a hand on the small of her back. “ ’Preciate the wakeup blowjob, baby. Feel free to do that any time the spirit moves you. But you leave this bed to start your day, you do it after I get your mouth another way.”

She grinned and turned her body under his, pushing up.

Her lips hit his as he wrapped both his arms around her and fell back, she fell on him and she gave him what he wanted.

And as was the only way...

High gave it back.

*  *  *

“We appreciate you workin’ with us on this, Millie,” High listened to Mitch Lawson, Denver detective, say to his girl.

They were at the Chaos cabin in the foothills.

There were men installing an alarm system in Millie’s office, so it was a good time for her to get away. Pete had picked her up to bring her to the meet, trailed by Hound and Boz.

High, Hop, and Tack had met them there.

Millie had told her story and it had been recorded. But while she told it, Mitch and his partner, Brock “Slim” Lucas not only listened, but took notes.

“That’s not a problem,” Millie replied.

“I know Chaos has you covered,” Slim said, and Millie and High looked to him. “You may not have noticed this but we’ve got cruisers patrolling your area, as well as the homes of other Chaos members who have women and/or kids. Police presence isn’t oppressive in order not to alarm neighbors. But if Valenzuela has his eye on anyone, they no doubt will note that presence and back off.”

High looked from Slim to Millie to see her nodding.

It was done.

Time to do something else.

“Millie’s been outta town and she runs her own business,” High said, and looked to Mitch and Slim. “She needs to get back. You get what you need?”

“Got it, High,” Mitch muttered. Then to Millie, “Again, thanks.”

She pushed back from the table and stood and the men stood with her. These being Slim and Mitch. Tack, High, Boz, Hound, and Pete were where they’d be with any old lady in this situation.

At her back.

She shook hands with both detectives, mumbled, “Nice to meet you,” then High moved in and claimed her.

He led her firmly to the door while she called her farewells to the brothers.

He stopped her at the passenger door to Pete’s truck.

“I’ll ride down, meet you at your house,” he stated, and she looked up at him.

Then she looked closely at him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” he answered.

His answer was true but his tone was rough and he knew it. So he also knew it didn’t sound like everything was okay.

In other words, it wasn’t a surprise when she continued to question him.

“You sure, Snooks?”

Fuck, it was messed up, but he’d missed Snooks.

He bent to her, lifting a hand to wrap it around the side of her head, and he took her mouth in a brief but hard kiss.

He lifted away and murmured, “See you at home.”

He saw her eyes widen slightly at that and he didn’t know if it was her concern at his tone or a reaction to him calling her place home.

He didn’t stick around to find out.

He let her go, turned away, walked to his bike, swung a leg over, and fired it up.

He gave her a brief wave before he rode off, seeing Pete heading to his truck as he did.

He was at her house fifteen minutes before Pete dropped her off. Long enough to make certain the cats hadn’t destroyed anything. Long enough to witness that they were settling in mostly because they were snoozing and barely blinked their eyes when he found them snuggled in a basket that held extra afghans.

She came in the back door, her eyes to him standing in the space between living room and kitchen with his hands on his hips.

“I think it’s safe to say I’m a little freaked out, Low,” she told him before she closed the door. “You’re acting funny.”

He didn’t say a word.

He turned around and walked through the living room and down the hall.

“Low,” she called.

He knew she followed him because he heard her cooing to the cats and then he heard her boots strike on the wood floors.

He’d stopped inside her room and positioned so he saw her when she entered, rounding into the room, eyes to him, concern now blatant.

“Okay, it’s official,” she said softly, moving to him. “You’re totally freaking me out, Logan.”

She got within arm’s reach.

Which meant a beat later she found herself pressed face-first to the wall with him using his body to keep her there.

“Low,” she whispered, hands to the wall, pushing.

He ground his crotch into her ass.

“Wore my dress,” he growled in her ear.

And she did. The sweater dress that clung to every beautiful inch of her body and there were a lot of them.

He heard her breath catch and the way she was pushing back into him changed.

He yanked up her skirt.

“Oh God,” she breathed, now grinding into him with her ass.

She wanted what he was going to give and she wanted it bad.

This was not about her not getting any for decades.

This had always been Millie. She’d always been up for it anywhere, any way he wanted to give it to her.

The thought and that proof grinding into him made his dick get even harder.

He looked down, gliding a hand over her hip and thigh. He saw his girl in the dress that had been fucking with him since she walked into the cabin wearing it.

No, since they’d had words when he’d delivered the champagne weeks ago.