“And mine.” I turn and give him a sexy grin.
“Keep looking at me like that and I won’t be able to drive us back to NOLA.”
“Why not?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“My kickstand will be too hard.”
“Oh, my God.” I burst out laughing.
“All right you two, save it for home,” Hunter says, teasing us.
Our boat slows down and docks smoothly at the marina. Hunter hops out first to secure the vessel. Vapor follows suit, turning to help me off the boat with a steady hand.
“Thanks for the ride, Hunter,” I say as my feet find solid ground. Vapor keeps a reassuring grip on me as we move away from the boat.
“Anytime,” the captain replies with a genuine smile.“You take care now.”
“You too.”
Vapor,” Hunter adds, his gaze stern yet caring,“you’ve got yourself a special woman here. Don’t fuck this up.”
“I don’t plan to.” Vapor chuckles, meeting his friend’s seriousness with an uncharacteristically vulnerable expression.
“Good,” the captain nods, satisfied.“Now go on, get outta here. I’ll take care of everything else.”
We head off the dock, and as we walk away, I see the prospect who was supposed to pick up our gear waiting nearby. He’s anxious but eager, a combination that Vapor seems to appreciate.
“Great job being on time,” he tells the young man, clapping him on the back.“I’ll see you back at the clubhouse.”
“Thank you, Pres!” The prospect beams.
As we get ready to leave the marina behind, I can’t help but feel the weight of the world we’re reentering settling onto my shoulders. I wish we could get back on the boat and sail away forever, but that’s impossible. Vapor’s life is with his club. I could never ask him to leave it.
My heart races as we approach Vapor’s motorcycle, not only from the thrill of riding with him but also from the gnawing uncertainty about my father’s relentless search for me.
“Ready?” Vapor asks, his voice steady and strong as he throws a leg over his bike.
“Always,” I reply, trying to match his confidence. I climb onto the back and grip him tightly around his waist.
As we ride back from Mississippi to New Orleans, the balmy air is a bittersweet symphony of freedom and apprehension. With every passing mile, my anxiety grows. Has my father given up on finding me? I hope so, but deep down, I know he won’t stop until he drags me back into the life I’m desperately trying to leave behind.
“Everything okay?” Vapor shouts over the roar of the engine, sensing my unease.
“Fine,” I lie, burying my face in his back and inhaling the comforting scent of leather mixed with his unique musk. Being this close to him calms me down a little. I know he’s got my back, so that lets me relax enough to enjoy the ride.
When we finally arrive at the clubhouse, the sound of laughter, music, and revving engines greets us like a thunderclap. A huge party is in full swing, and women in skimpy outfits lounge everywhere, draped over bikes and club members alike. My stomach twists with jealousy, but I remind myself that Vapor chose me, not them.
“Let’s go inside,” he suggests, taking my hand as we walk toward the chaos.
As we enter the living room, a few of the club girls glare at me, their eyes filled with envy and disdain. But instead of cowering, I smirk back at them, realizing that I hold the one thing they all want—Vapor. He’s mine now, and I need to show them that.
“Hey,” I say softly, pulling him close. He looks down at me, his blue eyes curious and questioning.
“Hey,” he replies, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Watch this,” I whisper before pressing my lips to his.
Our tongues dance passionately and the room around us fades away as we share this intimate moment, claiming each other in front of everyone.
