Free Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) by Nicole Snow Page A

before they hit the floor. “What...what is this?”
    He snorted. “What the fuck does it look like, babe? This is your new place. Assuming you wanna cool your heels somewhere else that isn't my bed at night, anyway.”
    His cocky smile said anything involving me and his bed would've been just fine. Holy crap, that reminded me...
    I quickly walked through the apartment, a nice single bedroom unit. Kitchen couldn't have been more than ten years out of date, and it seemed fully furnished – everything except a TV.
    In the bedroom, there was a dresser next to a brand new bed, a big furry blanket with an outline of a black bear thrown over it.
    “The blanket's a loaner,” he said, walking up behind me. “That shit's been in my family for years, but it'll do 'til we can figure something else out. Can't guarantee how long you'll be here, or how long you'll want to be. If trouble comes to town looking for you, then the Prez'll want us to move, and I can't do shit about it.”
    We locked eyes. I nodded, understanding the strict terms attached. Hell, for a place this nice – my place – I'd have put my lips all over him.
    I let out a sigh, desperate not to let him see it. Jesus. The hot spot forming between my legs told me that wasn't just a torturous hypothetical.
    “You follow me, right, darlin'?” The intense look on his face that said he could've eaten me alive didn't help cool the heat one bit.
    I nodded, tilting my face toward the shadowy bedroom, hoping it would hide the flush blossoming on my cheeks. “Yeah. Everything's real tentative, I get it. Any other rules I should know about?”
    “You check in with me twice a day. I'll still be driving you to the Heel and back to make sure nothing crazy happens. You got any other big plans to go out, I'm the first one you tell. Remember, same shit the Prez told you holds true 'til this shit blows over – no contact with anybody you knew before the club. Can't have your friends asking any weird questions or dragging you out for drinks when the mean motherfuckers we're worried about could show up any time.”
    “Do I ever get to find out who I should be looking for behind my back?”
    He hesitated. “Only when it's over, or when the Prez says so. For now, you see anything that says Torches, you run. Move your ass, and then pick up the phone, stat. Same goes for any guys sniffing around you, acting all suspicious.”
    “Got it.”
    “I meant what I said back there,” he growled, grabbing me and pulling me close to his chest. “You're a smart girl, Cora. You play by the rules we've set, and everything'll be just fine. We'll get through this. You'll never have to be up close and personal with yours truly ever again.”
    Oh, God. Why did that sound so horrible?
    The ache between my legs doubled. I gave him a quick squeeze and then tore myself away, before he could find out how badly I wanted to find out where those dark stripes going up his arms went.
    “I won't forget this, Firefly. You're...you're a good guy. I think.” It sounded so stupid, but there wasn't any other way to say it.
    He smiled, ran his fingers through my hair, and then pulled away from me, heading for the door. “You've got drinks, plus a few more wraps and salads in the fridge. Get yourself a fucking pizza or something. I'd have torn my balls off by now if I had your diet, eating the same fat free bullshit all the time.”
    I was still laughing as the door opened. He disappeared, leaving me alone.
    Really, truly alone, for the first time since the awful evening when I'd come home to daddy's suicide.
    I closed my eyes, savoring the silence. At the clubhouse, there'd always been someone knocking around, laughing, swearing, or else smashing their empty bottle into a bin full of them. I couldn't count the times glass falling against glass had woken me up all those miserable hours.
    I didn't miss it. Nothing about the clubhouse appealed to me except the giant dog. Nothing.
    Except that wasn't strictly