Page 10 of Her Daddy Biker (Savage Kings MC #12)

Nine

Tyra

I stand there for a minute after Havoc leaves, still wrapped in his robe, trying to process everything. A day. Maybe more. I should be freaking out about missing classes, about my roommate wondering where I am, about being stuck in an isolated place with a man I barely know.

Instead, all I can think about is the way my heart and body melt around Reed Havoc Lawson.

God, what is happening to me? Three days ago I was crying over Will calling me frigid, and now… But the way Havoc touches me, how he looks at me… it’s like we’re trapped inside something bigger than either of us.

I run my fingers over the sweater he brought me and, holy crap, this thing is soft. Like, impossibly soft. It probably costs more than I make in a month at my campus coffee shop barista job.

I slip out of the robe and put it on, and it feels like being wrapped in a cloud. It’s huge on me, hanging past my thighs, the sleeves covering my hands. I bring the fabric to my nose, closing my eyes as I inhale deeply. It smells like him.

There’s a pair of his sweatpants on the bed too, soft gray ones that I have to roll up several times. I look ridiculous drowning in his clothes, but somehow I feel… protected. Like wearing his things makes me even more… his…

Which is crazy. I’ve known the guy for less than two days.

But when I think about the roads clearing, about going back to my regular life, my chest gets tight. Like the thought of leaving him actually hurts.

I comb my fingers through my hair and head out to find my biker daddy.

Something amazing is cooking. Garlic and herbs, I think. My stomach growls loudly. I follow the scent and find Havoc at the stove, focused on what he’s making.

He’s changed into a dark Henley this time.

The rolled-up sleeves display the tattoos on his corded forearms. His rough, mountain man beauty is almost overwhelming.

All that thick black hair threaded with silver, his gray eyes, that strong nose, his full lips, the manly scruff on his jaw.

His massive height and build. He’s so freaking sexy…

I don’t even know what he sees in plain old me.

What will happen when the storm clears… I shake myself out of my grim thoughts.

Nope, not going there. I’ll soak up every second I can get with this fascinating man, then quietly return to my plain life.

“Smells amazing,” I chirp with forced cheerfulness.

He turns, and his eyes do that slow sweep over me that makes my insides flutter. “You look good in my clothes, angel.”

My face heats. “They’re too big for me.”

“I like it.” His voice drops. “Like seeing you in my things. Having you in my house. My space.”

Havoc turns off the burner, sets down the spatula he was using to stir, and steps in front of me, sliding a large, warm hand around my waist. My pussy spasms, my clit tingles, my nipples are hard points, my heart swells in my chest, and my brain melts.

“W… what are you making?” I ask, staring up into his steely eyes.

“Pasta. Figured you’d be hungry.” He leans, bringing his face to my level, and runs the tip of his nose along the side of my face.

I’m dead. Fucking done for. Put a freaking fork in it.

My heart squeezes: what am I gonna do when I can no longer stand this close to him?

Have his warmth, his scent, his overwhelming handsomeness surrounding me.

He presses a kiss at my temple and returns to the stove.

I lean against the counter, watching him work. Big, beautiful, at ease. A pure badass who can wreck a girl, wash her hair, and feed her. Lord help my poor heart.

I turn my gaze to look around and hopefully stop fanning over Havoc.

Everything in his kitchen is high-end, from the appliances to the knife set that probably costs more than my share of the rent for my shitty apartment.

And don’t even get me started on the marble countertops, beautiful wood cabinets and floors.

“Your place is incredible.”

He turns his head my way, his sexy lips hooking up on one side. “Thank you, baby. I like my comfort. And I can afford it. Lawson Construction is doing well. And I invested smart when I got out of the military.”

“You were in the military?” And I thought he was fascinating before. How many layers does this man have? I stare at his profile, eating up his words, basking in the deep rumble of his voice, craving to know everything about him. Anything he’ll share.

“Yes, angel. For fifteen years. I got out five years ago.” He plates the pasta with practiced ease. “Army paid for business school, and I used my savings to start the company.”

“And the cabin?”

“Built it with my crew.”

Wow, this isn’t just some rich guy’s toy - it’s a home he created with his own hands.

“Come on,” he says, handing me a plate. “Let’s eat.”

We settle at the kitchen island. The pasta is incredible. Fresh herbs, real Parmesan, delicious sauce.

“This is amazing,” I tell him between bites, trying not to moan around my food.

“Good. You need to keep your strength up.”

He smiles. Soft, warm, reassuring. Giving me the strength to ask. “Havoc…”

“Yes, angel?”

“What happens when the storm clears?”

He sets his fork down, giving me his full attention. “What do you want to happen?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I have school, my life in Glenwood…”

“That’s not what I asked, angel.” His gray eyes hold mine. “What do you want, Tyra?”

The direct question catches me off guard. What do I want? No one’s ever really asked me that before.

“I don’t want this to end,” I admit quietly. “But I don’t know how it could work. You live in Jackson Ridge, I live there, we barely know each other…”

“We know what matters.” He reaches across to engulf my hand in his giant one. A wave of warmth and safety wraps itself around me. “And Jackson Ridge is only an hour away from Glenwood Springs. Not exactly the other side of the world.”

“You’d want to keep seeing me? After?”

Something flashes in his silver eyes. “Angel, look at me.” I meet his gaze. “This isn’t just some storm fling. When I said you’re mine, I meant it.”

My breath catches. “Havoc…”

“I know it’s fast. I know it doesn’t make any logical sense.” His thumb strokes over my knuckles. “But I haven’t felt like this… fuck, ever. And I don’t think you have either.”

He’s right. Nothing ever even came close to the intensity of our connection. How natural it feels. Like an evidence.

“No,” I whisper. “I haven’t.”

“So we figure it out. You finish school, I run my business. We stick together.” His grip tightens. “We make it work because the alternative - not having you close - isn’t an option for me.”

I feel a lump in my throat, my eyes welling, my heart feeling so full, it hurts. “You really mean that?”

“Every word, sweetheart.”

Then he stands, pulling me up with him, and leads me to the living room, settling on the couch and pulling into his lap. The fire crackles, snow still falling heavy outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. It feels like we’re in our own private world.

“Tell me more about foster care,” Havoc says quietly.

I tense. “Not much to tell.”

“Tyra.”

I sigh, curling into his arms, seeking strength in his. “My mom died when I was twelve. In a car accident. I never knew my dad. No other family, so…” I shrug. “The system.”

Havoc’s arms tighten around me. “How many homes?”

I swallow back tears, fighting to push back the memories and stay here, with him, in this moment. Us. “Six. Some were okay; a few weren’t. I learned to keep my head down, not cause trouble, not get attached.”

We sit quietly for a moment, with just the sound of the fire and the storm outside. His strength, his warmth, his scent, his presence surrounding me.

“Is that why you wanna work with kids?” he asks in a low, soft rumble. One hand cupping the side of my face, the other curled around my hip.

“Yes,” I reply simply. That single word holding all my hopes and dreams.

“You’re going to be an amazing teacher.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you care. Because you understand what it’s like to need someone good on your side.” His words, spoken so close I feel them in my soul, are everything. “Those kids will be lucky to have you.”

I turn to look at him, wiping at my eyes. “You know, for a badass biker who lives alone on a mountain, you’re pretty good at saying nice things.”

Havoc chuckles, the sound vibrating through my chest. “Only with you, angel.”

He presses another kiss on the crown of my hair, and I bask in this perfect, warm, soft moment. But then his phone buzzes on the coffee table. He glances at it and frowns.

“Everything okay?”

“Text from my men. They’re making sure I’m good up here, wanna know if I need them to come clear the road with the plow when things slow down.”

He types a quick response. “Told them I’m fine and to stay put.”

“Y… you don’t want them to?”

He sets his phone down and pulls me closer, his big hands cupping my ass and squeezing, making me feel all kinds of tingly and giddy all at once. “Not yet, angel. I’m not ready to share you with the world.”

The possessive note in his voice makes me shiver. “Reed?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m not ready either.”

Then, he kisses me deep, wet, slow, and I completely melt into his big, warm body.