We can only see the world and the people in it more clearly, when we let our past and prejudices fall away.

MAVERICK

As I near Dozer’s door, I hear something that makes my footsteps falter and a heavy feeling unfurl in my stomach. The door’s slightly ajar. I edge it open as I enter the room, careful not to make a sound.

Doll’s standing against the far wall. Her hand pressed to the windowpane as she peers out. I take silent steps until I have a better view of her profile.

The sunshine coming through the window highlights her sandy freckles, brightens her blue-green eyes, which are wide with excitement and makes her red hair look like a waterfall of fire over her shoulders. Her rosy, pink lips are parted and every so often, the sound that drew me in here escapes from them. It’s a breathy laugh, warm, genuine and it’s accompanied by a small smile.

Witnessing both sends a trickle of warmth through my chest.

She’s as colorful as a rainbow in spring, and seeing her like this makes me feel like I’ve been stuck in a long, cold, hard winter for too long.

A thought strikes me . . . This is what she enjoys? What makes her laugh? Kids playing? So much so, that she’s pressed against the window, wishing she were outside with them. Not the act of a junkie. Or a girl simply here for a good time. Or even someone who’s only looking out for herself.

Guilt funnels through me. At every turn, she’s proven she doesn’t fit the mold I crafted her in and it guts me to know I’ve done nothing but make her days here hell. I’ve accused her of everything under the sun. Insulted her. Degraded her. Treated her like a clubpiece and the club’s personal slave.

My slave.

If that wasn’t enough, I’ve attacked her, drawn her blood, and left my permanent mark on her skin. Something I can’t take back no matter how much I want to.

The ache in my chest burns to an unbearable degree.

Doll rises to her tiptoes and leans forward as if she’s trying to get a better look at something. But a moment later, she lets out a disappointed sigh and drops back to the balls of her feet. She turns. At the sight of me, she gasps and clasps her hand over her heart. “How long have you been standing there?”

Studying her stricken face, I shrug. “A while.”

Her cheeks pinken as she frowns. Her little fist curls against her sternum. “Did you come to make sure Taz followed your orders?”

Thank God I kept my briefs on when I changed, because her feistiness sends all my blood rushing south. I’m going to need all the help I can get keeping my erection in check if this is how she’s going to be.

“I’m guessing he didn’t need to tie you up?”

“No.” She glares at me. “I thought you wanted me to leave?”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

Her gorgeous eyes fire with anger. “You’ve changed your mind? Because you like having a stray cat to kick around or cut up when the mood strikes you?”

Her words hit home as they were intended to. My eyes run over her flushed face, her cheekbones, her pert nose, and chin. Now I see all the differences between her and my ex, not the similarities. Doll is soft, warm, and full of life. Dana was hard and cold—like Griz said—she was fighting to hold off the reaper. One rose was black, wilted, and sick. The other is vibrant, healthy, red, and hasn’t even fully bloomed yet.

“At first I couldn’t help but see Dana every time I looked at you. That’s not a problem anymore.” My gaze continues down her slim neck and I wince when I see the small flesh-colored bandage, the one that tells me Doc’s been here to see her.

She snaps her fingers and draws my attention back to her face. Scowling, she asks, “What’s changed?”

Me . . .

I rub my hand over my mouth and then meet her penetrating stare. “You’re not the only one reeling from last night. Believe it or not, I don’t go around hurting women, Doll.” Especially not the ones I respect and am attracted to.

When she doesn’t say anything, I go on. “I know I’ve been a complete asshole, but that stops today. I’m done lettin’ the past cloud my judgment when it comes to you.”

“What about the next time you hear something or have a few drinks and—”

“Not even then.”

“I don’t believe you, Luce.”

The name hits the air and charges it somehow. Impulse takes over and I take rapid strides to eliminate the distance between us. I can’t stand it, being this far from her when she’s throwing that temper around like it’s a whip.

Doll’s breath catches. She backs away.

I’m all primal need as I stalk her. My attempt to have tact and patience is long forgotten.

She nearly trips over her shoes on the floor, but straightens. After sweeping her hair from her eyes, her gaze locks with mine. Her eyes spark with panic, but there’s heat there too. She wants me. Maybe she doesn’t want to want me, but she does all the same.

The knowledge that this undeniable attraction flows both ways makes the last of my control crumble and fall away. This is how it was meant to be the day we met. The day I pinned her against the wall and felt the proof of her reaction to me between her legs. The day she sunk her claws into me and left an impression on me. An impression I haven’t been able to shake.

I should have kissed her then. God knows I wanted to.

She retreats until her back hits the wall behind her. As I close in, she presses her small hands to my chest.

I smirk because does she honestly think that’s going to stop me? She weighs nothing. I could have her over my shoulder and in my room, thrown on my bed and under me in a matter of seconds. I’d have her in a fog in no time. Be balls deep before she could even utter a word. The visual has my cock throbbing. Being inside her would be the sweetest kind of heaven.

“Mav, what are you doing?”

I flash her my devilish grin, one I haven’t used in years. “If you don’t want me to touch you, tell me to stop.”

Unable to contain my own desperation for her, I grab her hands and pin them to the wall beside her head. I stand so close, our body heat bounces off one another. The space in between hot enough to heat a kiln. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She closes her eyes and turns her head. After raking in a shuddering breath, her voice shakes as she whispers, “Please stop.”

But there’s lust laced through those two words and in the next moment, she licks her lip.

I press my body flush with hers. She bites back a moan. I skim my nose over her ear. “Nah, Doll. Say it like you mean it. If you can honestly tell me you don’t want this, I’ll stop.”

She opens her mouth, but then closes it. Tries again only to swallow thickly. She can’t do it.

Her perfect tits are hitting the top of my abs. My dick is straining against her stomach and her scent surrounds me. She smells like flowers and I need to know if she tastes like them too.

Her breasts are dotted with cinnamon spots. Spots I’m dying to trace and explore with my mouth, but not yet. Instead, I brush my lips over her ear and watch her shiver. Then I trail them softly to her neck and further to her collarbone.

Goosebumps break out all over her skin and she whimpers.

I say gruffly, “Even when looking at you made the pain more real, and had all the memories slammin’ into me, tearin’ me apart, I wanted you. You shifted my world from the moment you walked in to it.”

Her body melts against mine and within seconds she’s putty waiting to be molded any way I need her. I grind my erection into her and she moans. I take her submission as the invitation it is and work my way back up to her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you again, Doll. Hurting you is startin’ to hurt me and I’d rather make you feel good. Make us both feel good. Tell me you want me to.”