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This right here is why I want to marry Natasha. Sure, she’s hotter than any woman I’ve ever seen. However, her big, kind heart is what makes her addictive.
When she focuses her affection on me, I feel loved in a way no one else can give me. She managed to make me feel that way during two hookups. I can’t even imagine how good her affections would feel when she actually loved me and we knew each other down to our core.
“I never noticed you when I was growing up around the club,” Natasha says, making me frown. “You were just another large, handsome biker, and I didn’t need your trouble in my life.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
The palm of Natasha’s soft hand presses tenderly against my cheek. The glint in her eyes makes me wonder if she’ll slap me. Instead, she cups my jaw.
“One night, I was with Siobhan and Hunter at your clubhouse. I got so startled when a fight broke out. People were throwing things. I hid under the table. I could hear fists colliding with faces and that crunching sound when bones break. I was terrified. I thought I might pass out from my heart racing so fast. I peeked out and saw you tearing these large men apart. You tossed them aside like ragdolls. When one of them lunged at you, your fist was like a wrecking ball. His face just crashed into itself from the impact. It was horrifying.”
Natasha pauses to glance at the kids. When she looks back, her gaze is soft and needy.
“You were like a beast, grumbling about stupid people and saying you want to burn down the world. I’d never seen anyone so angry. When my father or brothers attack, they seem like robots fulfilling their programming. But you were like a wild animal.”
Before I can defend myself, Natasha continues, “Then, you turned to Golden whose head was bleeding. Your rage shifted into concern. I’d seen you razzing him earlier in the night. Yet, right then, you were so protective of him, checking his wound and getting him ready to ride to the clinic.”
Natasha exhales unsteadily. “That’s the first time I really saw you. After that moment, I never wanted to look away.”
Her words tear my heart out and shove it back in wrong. Because I know what she’ll say next.
“Things are different now. We’ve both changed,” Natasha explains, lowering her gaze as if submissive before inhaling sharply and forcing herself to look at me. “But if you marry me and do right by my babies, I will always be good to you, Bear. I know what kind of man you are, and I won’t expect you to be anyone else.”
No one will ever make me feel as weak as Natasha Kovak does. Not even Aunt Fred fills me with self-doubt and a gnawing need to please like this woman right here.
Fearing what I might say, I kiss her instead of speaking. A soft, pleading kiss for the woman who can destroy me. I’m not powerless here. I can fuck with her and the Kovak Syndicate. I could cause a lot of problems for a lot of people.
Yet, I feel weak now as I imagine a future where this woman loves me.
NATASHA
Bear settles down once I offer him a little tenderness. His earlier brattiness dissolves into an overly protective streak. He starts asking me a million questions about his house.
“You’re moving in here in a month,” he says as his gaze holds mine, almost daring me to contradict him.
Okay, so he hasn’t completely settled down.
“Can I paint and change all the furniture?”
My question steals his confidence. “What’s wrong with my stuff?”
Smirking at the pout on his face, I join the kids on the floor. They’ve gotten Lobster Mac to sniff their fingers. Yet, every time they try petting him, he bolts back under the couch with his brother.
I show the kids how to make kitty noises. They imitate me, and Lobster Mac quickly pops his head out. I show them how to stroke the carpet to lure the cat closer. Soon, Lobster Mac is investigating my lap and purring loud enough to make his brother curious.
As the kids pet the cat, I smile at Bear. “Your house is beautiful. I meant that.”
“But?”
“Where will the kids sleep?”
“There are two bedrooms near mine. You want the kids close, right?”
“Yes, but I think we can stick them in a single room for now. They’re used to sharing.”
“But don’t you want a pink room for Jacinda and a blue one for Hector?” he asks, clearly proud at how he remembers their names.
“A pale blue will be fine for both.”
