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Just then, Copper, one of the newer members, sauntered over, his eyes a bit too bright as he took in Eliza’s curves. “Knox, man, who’s this?” he asked, nodding at Eliza with a simper that had me clenching my jaw.
“She’s mine,” I said sharply, the words slicing through the smoke in the air, marking my territory in the only way that felt right in my world. Copper’s grin faded and he bowed, backing off without another word.
Eliza’s eyes snapped to mine, a frown creasing her brow. “Yours?” she echoed, her tone edged with a challenge that had me realizing I’d stepped into murky water.
“It’s just how we talk here. Means off-limits, that’s all. Ain’t nobody gonna disrespect you.”
Her frown deepened, and she pulled me aside, away from the curious glances of my brothers. “I get that it’s different here, Knox, but I’m not property. Women are not property. That’s really demeaning.” She’d seen the women’s vest that said, ‘Property of.’
Feeling the candidness of her words, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I hear ya, Eliza. It ain’t like that between us. I’d never demean you. But here, that’s what you are if you were with me. Property of Knox. Means you’re mine, means you’re safe, is all, and nothin’ else.”
Her expression softened a bit. “Maybe next time we can do something a little more my speed?”
“Anything you want, darlin’,” I promised, grateful for her understanding.
As the night wound down, I walked her to her car. She had driven over after getting Emma to bed. Grandma was staying over. I longed for her to stay, but it was clear she needed time. I pulled her close, my hands finding her waist, and I kissed her goodnight—a deep, longing kiss that had me wishing for more. Her hands clutched at my shirt, tugging me closer for a moment that was heated enough to make me think she might change her mind. But she stepped back, biting her lip.
“Goodnight, Knox,” she murmured, leaving me standing there with blue balls.
Watching her drive off, my heart pounding and my body tight with unsatisfied desire. It took everything in me not to go back inside and bury my cock into the first warm whore I could find. I’d wait as long as it took. There was something about Eliza that called out to me, a feelin’ that it would be worth the wait.
The night Eliza picked out, kicked off just right, with me swingin’ by fetching her on my Harley. She was decked out in some fancy getup that made my heart thump wild against my ribs, looking all kinds of fine.
We decided to try out this swanky new joint downtown everyone’s been jawin’ about. Ain’t my usual scene, but I figured it’d be a nice switch-up. I’d even tried to dress up a bit, putting on my cleanest jeans and wiping the mud off my boots.
We snagged a table under some soft lights that kinda softened everything up, even a tough guy like me. There was a DJ, so it wasn’t half bad. The menu was a damn novel, more words than food, every dish with about fifteen things I couldn’t even say right. I leaned back, trying to look smooth, watching Eliza breeze through the menu like she was right at home.
“So, what’s catching your eye?” I asked, squinting a bit at the menu.
She started rattlin’ off some dish with quinoa and arugula, monkfish—whatever the hell that was—and I nodded like I knew exactly what she was on about. When the waiter swung by, Eliza ordered smooth and polished. My turn, I just jabbed a finger at something, hoping to hell it involved some kind of meat.
As dinner rolled out, I was brought some pasta that seemed alright. We chewed the fat about her day. She lit up talking about this new book her little rugrats at school were into—something about a mouse with wheels, and man, the sparkle in her eyes talking about her kids tearing into books, that was something beautiful. She was gearing up to take her class on a field trip to the city library.
“It’s incredible, Knox, watching them get so fired up about learning. It’s like cracking open a whole new world for them,” she said, pausing with her fork in the air.
I knocked back some of my beer, thankful this place served it. I was feeling kinda out of my league but loving the fire she had. “Yeah, I get you. Books weren’t really my jam. Most of what I know, I picked up the hard way, out on the streets, not in some classroom.”
Eliza set her fork down and looked at me, something like surprise or maybe respect flashing in her eyes. “But that’s a kind of schooling too, Knox. Just a different sort. Managing a club, handling… all the stuff you deal with. I’ve been watching you. I can’t fathom how you do it. It’s beyond me how the whole place hasn’t burned to the ground. If it’s street smarts, I wish I had more.”
I scratched my beard, pondering her words. “Maybe. But that’s my brother Smokey. He makes sure we’re up to code.”
“I don’t mean literally burn down,” she said. “I mean, it’s a contained chaos at the Wild Dog, and I can tell you delegate to your officers, like Smokey. You’re a natural leader.”
Eliza didn’t know half of what the club dealt with. She’d never know about real club business. But damn, I nearly had tears in my eyes. I don’t think anyone had ever said such a kind word about me in my whole life. The fact a woman like Eliza had such a high opinion of my role really meant more than I knew how to express. “Sometimes I think having a few more book smarts wouldn’t hurt, though. It’d make it easier to keep up with a clever woman like you.”
Her smile widened, and she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “Your world is… intriguing. But maybe I’ll teach you a thing or two as well.”
“Doubtful,” I quipped, but inside, my gears were turning. I could stomach a fancy meal out now and again, learn the menus, for her, if this was her thing.
The dinner stretched on, us just shooting the breeze, talking ‘bout everything and nothing. She had me trying food I’d never heard of. And Eliza seemed completely comfortable, in her element, in this refined, trendy joint. The gaps between us were clear as day and night, but somehow, it just didn’t matter. It felt like we were just different sides of the same coin, finding out how we meshed together.
And by the time we stepped out of that restaurant, her hand in mine felt like the most natural thing in the world. Maybe I didn’t need to know all them fancy words on the menu. Maybe all I needed to know was her.
It was early still, and Eliza said she had all night. We pulled up to the Wild Dog as the night was just kickin’ into high gear, the clubhouse buzzin’ like a hive on a hot summer day. Eliza clung a bit tighter to me than usual—clearly still getting her sea legs in this rowdy sea of leather and tattoos. Or maybe it was the five-inch heels she wore. After that fancy dinner downtown, coming here must’ve felt like jumpin’ from a posh cruise to a pirate ship.
We scooted into a corner booth, under lights flickering with the beat of heavy metal. I flagged down one of the sweetbutts, ordered us a couple of cold ones, and she snapped to attention.
Eliza’s laughter cut through the rumble of the club—real, honest laughter, melting away the stiffness from that uppity restaurant. But hell, as she talked, all animated where we should go next, my hand found a mind of its own and started wanderin’ north up her thigh, right under the hem of her dress.
