Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
We passed several homes on the drive out to my place, which was around halfway between the compound and downtown Riverstone. The properties were all at least an acre apart, and most belonged to my club brothers, their family members, or close friends. It was intentional, given our preference to keep outsiders at a safe distance from the compound. The clubhouse wasn’t some isolated safe house, but it wasn’t exactly easy to find either. And that was exactly how we liked it.
My house came into view as we drove down the tree-lined drive, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The sleek, modern Craftsman was illuminated softly by warm outdoor lights. It was a careful blend of traditional and contemporary architecture—clean, strong lines softened by dark stone accents and earth tones. A meticulously landscaped yard, simple greenery, attractive but with no unnecessary clutter. My home was two stories and had a three-car garage where I could keep my motorcycles and SUV, with enough room to work on them if I didn’t feel like using one of the Hounds’ garages.
I’d chosen to move into it after only a couple of years living in the dorm-style rooms at the clubhouse. I had needed somewhere organized and uncluttered. Not that my office on the compound was a mess, I’d never get anything done. But this was a place of calm amid the constant chaos of my work with the Hounds.
I stole a glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing quick, but she looked steady. Anticipation coiled tight in my gut as I pulled the SUV into my garage and turned off the ignition, leaving us wrapped in the charged silence for a heartbeat.
Tonight, she’d understand exactly what being mine meant.
My hand rested lightly on the small of her back as I led her up the short flight of steps to the door that opened into a mud room on the side of the house. I pushed open the front door, stepping aside to let her enter first. It led into the front area of the house, and as we walked into the space, Poppy glanced around, her eyes wide, drinking in every detail. The open and expansive interior had high ceilings and dark wood floors, creating a sense of luxurious simplicity that somehow matched my personality perfectly. Warm earth tones accented the neutral walls, adding to the welcoming atmosphere, while subtle pops of color in the decor prevented it from feeling stark or impersonal.
It was home. But to my shock, I suddenly realized the place had been missing something all this time. I hadn’t known it wasn’t complete until now. As Poppy stood beside me, it filled with warmth and beauty.
She followed me into the spacious living room, and her lips parted as her eyes darted appreciatively over the comfortable yet refined furnishings, from the leather couches to the meticulously arranged shelves displaying carefully selected art pieces and photographs.
“Wow.” She turned to face me with a shy smile. “This is beautiful.”
“Thanks. I’m really glad you like it.” I guided her toward the small bar in the corner, reaching for a glass and pouring her some wine. The crimson liquid swirled gently as I handed it to her, watching as her delicate fingers wrapped around the stem. She took a small sip, her eyes never leaving mine, anticipation and curiosity mingling in their depths.
“Let me give you a quick tour.”
The air between us grew charged again with something heavy and unspoken.
I walked her through the living area, dining room, and sleek, modern kitchen, then up the stairs to the second floor. All immaculate, and though much of it was expensive, it was subtle.
The hallway was dimly lit, and I kept my hand on her low back as we walked to my bedroom at the end. Her breathing quickened slightly as we stepped inside, her eyes widening once again at the massive bed that dominated the space. The dark wooden frame and plush bedding were inviting and distinctly masculine.
Beside the bed, a doorway led into the en suite bathroom. Beyond that was a custom walk-in closet that had been carefully arranged. One side held tailored suits that I only wore when necessary, and the other had casual attire meticulously organized along the wall.
Poppy stepped toward the bathroom, her eyes lighting up as they fell on the enormous bathtub that occupied one corner of the large room.
“Oh my gosh, Colter,” she breathed, stepping closer to admire the deep porcelain basin. Her excitement radiated from her, vibrant and irresistible. “This is amazing! I love baths. If I had something like this, I’d probably use it every single day. Bubble baths, candles, the whole thing.”
She continued to ramble enthusiastically, describing bath bombs and bath salts, seemingly unaware that I had moved closer until my arm slid around her waist from behind, pulling her gently but firmly back against my hard, muscular chest. She froze, a tiny gasp escaping her lips as my mouth lowered to her ear.