With a harsh cry, Bohannon shifted to put his weight on one shoulder, never slowing or ceasing his movements. One hand found the delicate column of her throat, and he held her steady. When she tried to rise, intending to sink her teeth into his shoulder, he tightened his grip on her ever so slightly and snarled at her.

  “Stay down!”

  She bared her teeth at him. Luna had never acted like this in her life. Never wanted to. This was raw. Primitive. Two people both loving each other and establishing dominance. While she didn’t want control of him, she wanted him to know she was staking a claim on him the same as he was her. “You tell your bimbo that, too? Because I’m not a biddable hussy so enamored with your cock I’ll do everything you say.”

  Luna nearly regretted her outburst until an answering fire lit his eyes as he continued to fuck her. “You’ll do what I say, when I say. Right now, you lie still while I fuck you. Don’t you fucking move!”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I’ll flip you over, pin your hands behind your back, and fuck the living hell out of you, woman!”

  Oh, God! That was all Luna could take. Her cunt spasmed as her orgasm exploded inside her. She screamed her completion and wrapped her legs tightly around him, locking them at the ankles.

  “Fucking hell!” Bohannon swore viciously, a string of epithets that would have set her ears burning if she weren’t already on fire. “Making me come! Let go if you don’t want my cum in you!”

  “Not letting go,” she bit out between contractions. “You need to come now? You’ll do it inside me or not at all!”

  “Fuck!” That was it. Luna felt him ejaculate inside her, one hot spurt after another. She came again, this time a rolling tide of sensation that went on and on and on.

  Finally he collapsed on top of her, still thrusting. His body trembled over her with every slide of his cock, with every squeeze of her pussy around him. They stayed locked together for long, long moments. It was a little hard to breathe, but Luna kept her arms and legs tightly around him, not wanting him to separate.

  “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, baby.” His softly spoken words were muffled in her neck where he nuzzled, kissed, and licked. “I never want to hurt you, and I was rough.”

  “You were exactly the way I wanted you,” she said, kissing his neck. “I’ve never had so much pleasure or felt so much love as I did just now.”

  He pulled back to look at her, not even bothering to deny there had been love in his touch. “Then I did my job.”

  She smiled. “You did indeed.”

  “You on the pill? Bit late in the asking, but I want to know.”

  Luna bit her lip, for the first time feeling the twinge of guilt. “I won’t lie to you. I’m not. And if I’m pregnant, I won’t regret it. Even if you didn’t really mean you wanted me for the long term.”

  An impatient look followed her words. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I want you long term. And I want you to have my babies. I only asked so I’d know what to expect. If you’re pregnant, I’ll take care of you and my kid.”

  “I know you will. Just wanted you to know I wasn’t trying to trap you. However, you’ve got other women hanging around. I’m not much of a fighter, so maybe I should stake my claim the only way I can.”

  Bohannon snorted. The smile lit up his face like magic. Gone was the scary warrior she’d met in the woods. In his place was the man she’d worshiped as a child. For the first time, Luna was able to reconcile one with the other. They were both Bohannon. The tender man who would let a child paint his fingernails and toenails pink in order to make sure she was safe was also a bold, fierce warrior. One who would kill anyone trying to harm that child he guarded.

  It was then Luna realized she was truly in love.

  Chapter Eight

  “Cain,” Sword called as he entered the clubhouse common room. “Poacher is on the way up the drive with a full contingent. They look ready for war.”

  Cain chuckled. “Bringing it to our door, are they?”

  “Looks that way.” Sword was the second enforcer of the club. Cain might have been amused, but Sword was not. “You’d think they’d’ve learned a lesson when Kiss of Death tried the same thing. Bringing their muscle right to our door.”

  “By all means, give them a warm greeting.” Cain pulled his wife, Angel, into his arms and kissed her forehead before bending to give her instructions. Angel was the only person Cain ever showed tender emotion for. It was obvious Angel wanted to be at his side, but Cain simply cut off her protest with a hard kiss, swatted her ass, and sent her out of danger. The young woman blushed, looking around her self-consciously, but did as Cain told her, heading to the basement of the clubhouse.

  Bohannon had tried to send Luna to the basement when he realized there’d be trouble. Sword had texted them all about the buildup of Scars and Bars members, and everything in him screamed to force her compliance. He knew she’d be the primary focus of the other club and knew he couldn’t protect both her and Cain. She’d looked terrified, but stubbornly refused to hide while he faced this group partially on her behalf.

  That had been her excuse, but Bohannon knew the real reason was fucking Markus. She’d looked just as scared as she had when he’d first pulled her from that damned truck a couple of nights ago but she hadn’t backed down. Torpedo had been right. Had he continued to scare and shock her, she’d have bolted. Possibly right into the hands of Scars and Bars. Now, he just wanted to kill all these motherfuckers so it would be done. Her brother included. Which was what had led to the fucking problem in the first fucking place. She knew every second he thought about how Markus had put her in so much danger the more murderous he grew.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t kill everyone threatening Luna without bringing law enforcement down on them. Well, he could, but it would require the help of the entire club, and he wouldn’t put his brothers in that position. This would be a tricky situation. No matter what happened, it wouldn’t be over tonight.

  All members of Bones in the clubhouse meandered outside, unhurried and unconcerned. What the Scars and Bars wouldn’t see were the four snipers on the roof sighting them up for when diplomacy fell by the wayside.

  Sixteen Harleys roared up the drive to line up in front of the Bones clubhouse. They revved their engines in a menacing display. What they didn’t understand was the noise would never intimidate Bones. Thunder never hurt anyone. Bones was the lightning.

  Once Scars and Bars finished with all the blustering, Poacher got off his bike and stalked toward Bones. His enforcers flanked him. All but one had their weapons holstered. His lead enforcer had a pistol gripped in a hand at his side. Normally, Bohannon would keep an eye on the guy, putting himself in the best position to protect Cain. This time, however, he drew his gun as well, chambering a round in the SIG Sauer as he walked. Cain gave him a side eye but said nothing, nor did he wave Bohannon off. The president might not like his actions, but he wouldn’t reprimand Bohannon in front of another club.

  “Poacher.” Cain acknowledged the other president. “Normally I’d pretend I was happy to see another club visiting, but, since your muscle is blatantly sporting loaded guns inside our own fucking clubhouse territory, I’ll simply ask what the fuck you’re doing here.”

  “You know why I’m fuckin’ here! You’ve got goods that belong to me, and a fuckin’ whore traitor!” Poacher pointed toward the clubhouse, where Bohannon knew Luna stood with several patched members protecting her. Her being outside at all was a sore spot with him, one they’d argued about, but he understood and respected her need to face her problems. Didn’t mean he had to like it. She also seemed to accept the man he’d become. He still didn’t want her to see him kill. ‘Cause one more word, and this motherfucker was a ghost.

  “Suppose you enlighten me. What are you referring to? And I caution you to watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

  Poacher took two steps toward Cain. When Cain didn’t back down but took a step forward himself, Poacher snarled. “You got my smack, you son of a bitch. And the bitch over there is my mule.”

  Bohannon could almost admire the man for not backing down. Cain, when challenged, was scary as shit. Like right now. The look in Cain’s eyes could make a pussy of the hardest of men. With all his muscle here, however, Poacher couldn’t afford to look like a pussy.

  Cain shrugged casually, as if it was all no big deal. The way his body looked deceptively relaxed said he was anything but casual. “Smack’s gone. The woman belongs with Bones. You want her? You gotta take her.” Bohannon glanced at his president, barely able to contain his protest, and saw a smile that was more a baring of teeth. The smile of a killer looking for a fight. “You gotta take her from all of us.”

  “She ain’t nothin’ to you, Cain,” Poacher spat. “But she’s our mule.”

  “So? Come get her. Give your life for your club to get her back, you son of a bitch.” Cain withdrew his own weapon and cocked it, pointing it directly at Poacher’s face. Bohannon grinned, following suit, his weapon leveled at the president as he pulled a second pistol from the small of his back, cocked it, and aimed at the Scars and Bars enforcer.

  Every member of Bones followed Cain and Bohannon’s example, targeting a member of the rival club. Which prompted the other men to draw their guns. Which prompted one of the snipers from the roof -- probably Deadeye -- to fire a shot at the president’s feet, not two inches in front of the man, with a suppressed rifle. There was only a muffled thump as gravel and dust puffed up from the ground. No one would be able to tell where the shot came from.

  “Fucking bastard!” Poacher was livid, but his muscle seemed to know the trouble they were in and held fire. “I’ll fucking kill every Goddamned one of ya!”

  Bohannon could tell Poacher wasn’t letting this go. No president could. With Bones firing on them, Poacher had to reciprocate. Even if it had happened in Bones territory.

  Sure enough, the Scars and Bars president took aim at Cain. Before he could even pull the hammer back, Bohannon and Cain fired simultaneously, taking Poacher in the head and chest. Both a kill shot. The club president dropped, and all hell broke loose.

  Bohannon’s next shot was at the enforcer while Sword shoved Cain behind him even as the Bones president fired his Glock twice in quick succession. The other Scars and Bars members fired several times, but Sword and Bohannon dropped two more with another shot each.

  For the first time in his military career, Bohannon’s attention was divided. He knew Luna was in the line of fire. If one of those fuckers wanted to kill her badly enough for what they perceived as a betrayal, there wasn’t much Bohannon could do to protect her. He should have fucking tied her up and locked her in the fucking basement!

  Sweat broke out over his skin, and rage threatened to overwhelm him. His heart pounded out a steady rhythm of fear, and the taste was exceedingly bitter. He wanted to find Luna. Make sure she was good. But he didn’t dare take his eyes off the enemy. Any of them could be the one trying to take her out. In that moment he knew, no matter how much trouble it caused his brothers, no matter if it meant he spent the rest of his life in prison, if he had to kill every single one of these motherfuckers to keep Luna safe, it was exactly what he would do.

  With a battle roar, Bohannon fired repeatedly as he moved forward, winging one man and catching another in the leg. His SIG Sauer boomed with each pull of the trigger. He advanced steadily, stopping only when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Still, Bohannon continued to fire.

  “It’s over, brother,” Cain shouted at him even as he shoved one of Bohannon’s arms down, trying to get him to stop firing. He and Sword both pulled Bohannon back, urging him to lower his other weapon. He heard them as if in a long tunnel, calling him to them when all he wanted to do was kill.

  He tracked the remaining men, unable to simply stand down, the bloodlust too close for that. The rest of Scars and Bars had dropped their weapons and taken cover, yelling out their surrender, their hands in the air. The whole thing lasted all of thirty seconds. Sweat stung Bohannon’s eyes, his heart still pounding a furious rhythm.

  “Luna,” he gasped. “Where’s Luna!”

  As if a light shone down from the heavens above, he saw her hurrying to him with the sunlight gleaming off her shining black hair. The enemy was still at their doorstep. Any of them could make a try for her at any moment. Bohannon could no more have sent her away than he could walk on the moon. Instead, he caught her as she flung herself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. He was careful to keep his body between Luna and the Scars and Bars members.

  “Sword.” Bohannon found the other enforcer’s gaze and held it steadily. There was no way he could hide the wildness in his eyes from his brother. Sword would know the desperation he felt to get Luna away from danger and how it warred with the need to clean up the mess on their home turf.

  “I’ve got this. Get her out of here.”

  As the last word passed Sword’s lips, a shot rang out. Luna jerked violently and gave a sharp cry. Warm blood sprayed over Bohannon’s face as Luna’s body went limp in his arms, a hole blossoming in her upper forehead just before the exiting bullet whizzed directly beside Bohannon’s ear.

  Chapter Nine

  Two months later…

  Bohannon woke up screaming and drenched in sweat. His Luna was shot. In the head! She lay dying in his arms, and all he could do was roar his anguish. Until he’d beaten the motherfucker to death with his bare hands. It hadn’t helped. Luna was still gone.

  “Bohannon.” A soft, feminine voice beside him called him back to reality.

  Luna?

  But… wasn’t she dead?

  “Baby, it’s OK. I’m OK. Wake up and look at me.”

  The bedside lamp clicked on, a soft glow filling his bedroom. Luna was, indeed, beside him. The bandage wrapped around her head like a turban was long gone, and she didn’t seem to have had any lasting effects. Every day, Bohannon thanked whatever god had smiled down on him she hadn’t been taken from him.

  “Are you back with me? Look at me.” The command was soft but no less compelling. Bohannon rubbed his eyes, blinking back the tears he knew were tracking down his face and…

  She was truly there. Right in front of him.

  “Fuck,” he whispered brokenly before reaching for her, pulling Luna into his arms to wrap her in a cocoon of protection. “I lost you,” he managed, his voice sounding suspiciously like a sob to him. “I fucking lost you!”

  “No, you didn’t. I’m right here. I got lucky.”

  “No. I got lucky. And, Goddamn it, I want to kill that fucking son of a bitch again! I can’t say I’m sorry, either. Luna.” He looked at her, framing her face with his hands.

  Until she reached out with gentle fingers and wiped the moisture continuing to drip beneath his eyes, Bohannon hadn’t realized he was still crying. “I killed your brother with my bare hands. Beat him to death right in front of you.”

  “I was unconscious. And he shot me. I loved him with all my heart, but he shot me.” She continued to caress his face, wiping tears away with tenderness until she finally leaned forward and simply kissed them away. “I’m OK with what you did. I hate that it had to be you, but I’ll never hold it against you. I don’t even mourn him as I probably should. You did nothing wrong, baby. Do you hear me? Nothing!”

  This wasn’t the first time she’d had to do this. To Bohannon’s shame, it was near nightly. The shock of the whole event was still close, though he tried hard to block it out, just like any other unpleasant mission. This time, however, the carnage had hit too Goddamn close to home.

  The doctor had said she was lucky. The bullet had flown straight and true, entering and exiting the upper portion of her brain cleanly. Had it happened anywhere else, she might have never been Luna again. Assuming she’d even lived. As to Markus, Poacher had told him the only way he would live was to kill Luna. Apparently, Poacher had been convinced Luna had been responsible for the whole mess. Black Reign was breathing down his neck and someone had to be punished. It came down to Markus or Luna. Markus might still be of use to them, but Luna…

  Bohannon pulled her into his arms and kissed her like a starving man led to water. When this happened, he needed her. She knew and understood, always welcoming him with her body and her kisses. She never rebuffed him or said or did anything to make him feel like she couldn’t get past the death of her brother, but he thought he might always be afraid she would. Luna had to constantly reassure him she was his.

  Bohannon thought it made him weak, and maybe it did. Didn’t change the fact he still needed it. If she thought him weak, she didn’t seem to mind and never said so or gave indication those were her thoughts. Instead, she just smiled and welcomed him with open arms, loving him in that complete and total way she had. The way he’d come to crave.

  “Not sure I can be gentle tonight,” he said as he slid his hand down the curve of her hip. He took one nipple into his mouth and tugged with his teeth until she gasped and arched, offering himself to her.

  “No one said I wanted or needed gentle. Doc says I’m fine. I swear to you I don’t feel any pain. Anything still lingering is purely cosmetic. And if you can live with that, so can I.”

  “As long as you’re here with me, I could give two fucks what your forehead looks like. You’re here. You’re well. You’re mine.”

  Bohannon maneuvered her to the center of the bed on her back, spreading her legs and pinning them beside her so that she lay open and completely exposed to his hungry gaze and mouth. He wanted to look his fill at the small strip of hair pointing straight to heaven. She kept the rest bare, and he loved the way it felt against his tongue. Moisture glistened between the delicate folds of her lips, signaling her readiness and eagerness for him. She couldn’t feign that. Bohannon always looked, always wanted to be sure she truly accepted him.

 

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