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Wolf listened to Jazz’s moan as he sank deep into her body. She was pressed up to the shower wall in the Airbnb, her arms over his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist. Hot water sprayed over them as they moved.

He’d soaped her up and washed her hair, taking care not to cause her any pain from the bruising or the cut on her lip.

When he looked at her injuries, he wished he would have taken the time to beat the shit out of Ramrod and Mr. Happy, the moniker he gave to the assassin since he never told anyone his real name.

“I’m done,” she announced on a heated breath. “I’m not going to go after any more scammers after all. I won’t take another chance on someone I love getting hurt or dying.”

He thrust in slowly, savoring every stroke as her channel caressed him. “I didn’t plan on ever picking up a gun again, but as far as I’m concerned, this is my last time, too, sweetheart. I just want a clean, easy life with you and the club.”

Jazz barked out a laugh and realized she was crying at the same time. “You think the Knights will be at peace?”

“I can dream, right?”

His movements became firmer, and her gasps of pleasure grew more pronounced.

His balls tightened, and he was on the verge of coming.

“I fucking love you, Jazz. Don’t ever change your hair or your words or anything about you.

This is real, baby. As real as it gets. You worked your way in with cute and coffee. Now you have to stay with me.”

She cried out as she found her release. He joined her half a second later, letting his roar of satisfaction reverberate in the tiled room.

“We didn’t use a condom again.”

“No, we didn’t, and I don’t want to. I like feeling you come while I’m inside you.” He kissed her lightly as he withdrew and let her legs down to hold her own weight. “If you want birth control for a while, we’d better get on that soon or else I’ll have to move up my plans.”

“What plans?”

He grinned as he plucked two towels from the nearby rod and handed her one.

“I fully intend to put a patch on your back sometime this fall and a ring on your finger by Christmas. You get pregnant before then, I’ll move my plans up a few months.

” He rubbed the white cotton cloth over his head and wrapped it around his waist. “The insurance from the fire is a good start to rebuild the house, and I have some money set aside. I’ve already told you about a potential design I have in mind.

We can go over that sometime this weekend if you’re up for it. ”

He paused as he picked up a comb and turned her around to face away from him. The teeth glided through her wet hair as he smoothed out the blue strands. “How’s your head?”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“No, baby. I mean, how’s your head ?”

She stayed silent for a moment. The last few days and even months had been a series of trials.

A lot of shit happened between the first scam-shielder dying and the kidnapping from the bridge.

It wouldn’t shock him to find her dealing with some mental acrobatics and justifications.

He was prepared to be her counselor or find her one if she needed it.

Instead, she leaned back against him, and his arms folded up around her towel-clad torso.

“I’m good. It bothers me that people are dead, but I don’t believe that’s my fault.

If it could have been avoided, that would be better, but if I have to make a choice between Ramrod or my brother, it’s going to be my brother.

The same with you and Mr. Happy. I’m sorry he’s dead, but I’m happier you and I are still alive. ”

He kissed her temple. “If you ever get weird thoughts or feelings, you’ll talk to me, yeah?”

“Absolutely. Will you do the same?”

He paused with his lips against her skin. “That’s a big ask from someone like me, baby, but I promise I’ll do my best.”

“Okay. Hey, don’t you have to go to work tonight?”

“Nah. Cam’s covering for me at Attic.” He leaned back and continued to comb through her hair.

“Oh.”

“That ‘oh’ sounds confused. What’s on your mind?”

She tilted her head back. “It’s nothing really.”

“What’s nothing?”

“Just an odd thought. Why do you call the bar Attic? It’s on the ground floor of a business row.”

Her innocent question had him smiling from ear to ear. “From what I understand, Melter came up with the name. Attic is actually an acronym.”

“An acronym? For what?”

He let out a chuckle. “Wanna know the joke? Look at your chest and spell the word.”

“Huh?”

He coughed to keep from laughing out loud. “Look at your chest. Now spell attic .”

Her head bent forward. “A-T-T-I-C.” She put her face in her hands and let her wet hair slide against her cheeks. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

He scooped the strands back with the comb. “Nope. Those jagoffs decided Attic was a good name for a titty bar, and that’s why.”

He let go of his laughter at her groan and kissed her again. “You hungry?”

“Not really. You?”

He pulled the towel from around her breasts and dropped it to the floor. “I’m starving.”