"Donkey, get the fuck out. Go tell Khan we found her."

I sat down on the edge near the window and dangled my feet. When I heard the bars open, I glanced down and into Smoke's worried face. Our eyes locked and he sagged against the frame and stared at me. "Swan? What the fuck are you doing up there? How did you even get up there?"

"I climbed." My voice hitched as I muttered, "Leave me alone. I'm fine, just go away."

He squeezed his eyes shut while a few more curious faces looked out the window before Smoke shoved them back. "Baby, please come down."

"No."

Yes, I realized it was a totally petulant answer, and maybe I was being dramatic, but I loved and hated him at this moment.

Closing his eyes, he spoke through clenched teeth. "Please."

"No."

A man said something I couldn't catch, and Smoke disappeared from the window, only to be replaced by Hulk. He looked up at me and grinned, then started laughing. I glared back at him, but that only set him off again. Still chuckling, he shook his head at me. "You are hot as fire, just like your sister. Way too much drama for me. Did you enjoy scaring the hell out of your man? I thought he was gonna stroke out."

I stiffened and glared at him some more. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to wait around like a good girl for a man who yelled at me without giving me a chance to explain? Was I just supposed to hang out and wait for him to come back and shred me in front of everyone again? No fucking thank you."

Sobering, Hulk shifted to a more comfortable position to look up at me. "You know he didn't mean that shit."

"I don't care whether he meant it or not. He hurt me."

I'd almost whispered the last part but it must have been loud enough for Hulk to hear. "Guys say stupid things all the time when they're scared."

"He wasn't scared, he was pissed."

"You make a lot of assumptions, don't you?"

Startled out of my pity party for a moment, I frowned. "What?"

"Just sayin' that it seems like you assume the worst in people. How 'bout you give him the benefit of the doubt and let him explain why he reacted the way he did."

"Thank you very much, Dr. Phil, but I don't want to talk to him."

"Too bad," Smoke said in a silky smooth voice from right behind me, "because we aren't leaving this roof until we get some shit straight."

Chapter Eight.

I froze and listened for the crunch of Smoke's boots walking across the gravel of the flat rooftop. His energy washed over me, and I bit my lower lip. A small part of me wondered if I could make the jump from the roof to the scraggly lawn three stories below. That might sound like a bit of an extreme reaction, but a lifetime spent with a not-so-stable father had left a scar on my psyche that I'd rather not examine too closely.

It was almost as if I could feel Smoke's heat as he stood behind me. He didn't say a word, and I itched to break the uncomfortable silence, to rail at him and curse him out for making me feel so bad. I wanted to sucker punch him for making me cry, but I remained frozen as my words stuck in my throat. When he took a seat next to me on the edge of the building, I stiffened and started to pull away, but he placed a large hand on my thigh, securing me in place like a butterfly with a pin through its poor heart.

"Babe, what are you doing up here?" he asked in that velvety, soothing tone that he only used with me.

The moonlight silvered the tips of the trees surrounding us and I pressed my lips together, refusing to answer him. If he'd yelled at me, I could have rallied my defenses, but when he was gentle with me like this I almost forgot what a prick he'd been. It took a great deal of effort, but I managed to keep my need to please him in check and pressed my lips together hard enough that it hurt.

"Swan," he tried again, "talk to me."

My muscles were tight enough to snap, and the effort to ignore him was getting harder and harder, but I bit my inner cheek sharp enough to taste blood and shifted farther away from him.

"Fuck this shit," he muttered a second before he snatched me up and pulled me onto his lap with my back facing the drop-off at the edge of the building.

I shoved at his arms, but he held me tight just like I knew he would. Pressed to his solid warmth with my legs wrapped around his waist, I refused to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. Rather than bitching at me, Smoke slowly stroked my back. I tried to resist his soothing touch, I really did, but my body relaxed against my will as he continued to stroke me.

He took a deep breath and let it out with a gusty sigh. "I should tan your ass for that stunt you pulled downstairs."

Oh, no, he fucking didn't.

Indignation filled me as I finally met his gaze and even in the silvery moonlight, I could read the stress and the fear on the harsh planes of his face. Before any misplaced empathy could rob me of my senses I snarled out, "I should cut your fucking throat for talking to me like that."

A hint of a smile ghosted across his lips before he sobered again. His eyes had turned to pure darkness in the moonlight, but they weren't empty. Even in those pools of black I could see a dizzying array of emotions swirling through him too fast to identify. His caressing touch stilled, then he slid his hand up so his fingers were stroking the back of my neck before he grabbed a fistful of my hair.

"Do you even have the slightest fucking clue why I'm mad?"

I tried to jerk out of his hold, to look away from his intense gaze, but he held me in place and I couldn't exactly fight free with my ass almost hanging off the edge of the building. "Because I'm stupid?"

"What?"

"You called me stupid."

He flinched as if I'd slapped him. "I'm sorry 'bout that. I lost my temper. Fear was runnin' my mouth."

Those words rang hollow to me, and I considered various painful ways to get off his lap. "Fuck off and let me go. I don't want to be around you. I mean it, Smoke. Red!"

The fact that I used my safeword seemed to upset him, and he leaned back enough for me to scoot off of him.

When I was a couple of feet away, I spun around to face him, my fists clenched so hard my nails were stabbing into my skin, probably leaving bruises...again. Yeah, I was fucked in the head, but pain gave me strength, a strength I desperately needed while squaring off with Smoke. I didn't want to argue with him-I loved him deeply-but we needed to get some shit straight.

Submissive in the bedroom?

Yes, it's the bee's knees.

Submissive out in the real world?

Um, no.

"You totally disrespected me in front of not just your buddies, but also the cunt who was insulting me and trying to get me out of the way so she could share your dick with those skanks. And then to call me stupid on top of that? Buddy you're lucky I'm still in the same country as you."

For a moment he looked genuinely puzzled. "What did I say?"

My skin tightened as I tried to spit out the words. "You don't even remember what you said?"

The lines around his mouth deepened. "Not really. I was pissed at you and worried."

Praying for patience wasn't working. "You know what? I'm done with this conversation."

"Wait!" I swear a look of panic came over him before he schooled his features into his usual cold mask. "I told you, now that I've had you I'm never lettin' you go, ever, and I mean it. You're stuck with me, Swan, and even though I'm a major fuckin' asshole, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"You didn't hurt my feelings," I mumbled and hugged myself.

"Don't lie to me. I could see your pain the minute I lost my shit, and I am sorry about that."

"But it didn't stop you from running your mouth, did it?"

"Look, baby, I say shit I don't mean when I'm pissed."

"Don't you 'baby' me, Smoke. I'm a grown woman and I will not put up with you disrespecting me in front of people. You're supposed to build me up, not tear me down." I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pained confusion twisting his handsome face. My impulse control had slipped its leash and a torrent of words spilled from me. "And don't tell me about being angry and saying shit you regret. That is a choice you make to lose control, 'cause let me tell you, if I wasn't keeping a tight grip on my temper you'd be dead right now. You think you have anger management problems? You have no idea what a terrible, horrifying thing true anger problems are. Before my dad got into therapy, he'd scare me so much I couldn't breathe. You think that being pissed gives you the right to be a dick? Well it doesn't, and I won't let you treat me like one of your whores."

"Swan," his voice broke and a look of understanding filled his eyes. "Fuck, I'm a dick. I get so wrapped up in my own bullshit I forget to think about what I'm saying. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I swear you won't have to deal with that again."

"No, fuck that." I crossed my arms, more to hold myself together than to keep warm. "You are a dick, and just because you say you're sorry doesn't mean it's okay."

"I know, I know." He went to reach out for me, then let his hand fall between us. A surge of disappointment filled me when I realized he wasn't going to touch me. The need for the calming effects his embrace was such a part of my world now that I craved it even though I was mad enough to bite him if he touched me. "Swan, I promise I'm gonna do better, and I'm a man of my word. Give me some time to adjust to having you in my life, yeah? Not makin' excuses, but I've been alone for a long time, and I'm used to having control over everything."

My lower lip trembled, and he sighed then closed his eyes. A moment later, he looked up and a bolt of warmth raced through me like the hot wind from a forest fire. In his shadowed gaze, I saw a deep, abiding love that was for me and only me. Crap, how was I supposed to resist him when he was being all nice and calm? This gentle side of his nature killed me, and I struggled to resist the lure of his embrace.

As if he sensed my weakening resolve, he smiled slowly and held out his hand. "Come here, baby girl. Let me take care of you. Give you what you need."

Double crap, I really liked it when he went all gentle, yet dominant on me.

My wet panties confirmed this fact.

I stared at him, taking in the entirety of his perfect masculine form, then stepped into his arms. He held me tight, pressing my face into the warmth and delectable smell of his strong chest. My lower belly fluttered even as I half-heartedly tried to push away.

"I'm still irritated with you."

"I know. I didn't handle shit right. Won't happen again."

"Fine." Okay, I sounded petulant even to myself, but I come from a family of grudge holders.

He ran his fingers through my hair and my muscles weakened. "Can you please tell me what the hell happened back there? I thought I was walking in on a scene where she'd tried to kill you. That was part of what made me overreact even though it was Cyclone."

"Did you fuck them? Those topless sluts showed up at the door to our room ready to shove their way past me to get into your bed. Impressive that you can handle three women at once, good for you."

His nostrils flared, but he didn't take the bait and nodded instead. "Yeah, I've probably fucked 'em. But I had nothing to do with them showing up. Cyclone said a brother she wasn't familiar with called her up at work to let her know I was coming into town and that I'd asked to see her and her...girls."

A shudder of revulsion went through me at the thought of what he'd probably done with those women, and I suddenly felt suffocated by his hold. "How many-"

Before I could finish my question he placed his hand over my mouth and shook his head. "I'm not gonna let you torture yourself with my past, it ain't gonna happen. We've had this discussion before, Swan. When are you going to believe that I'm not gonna fuck around on you?"

I hated the tears that burned my eyes, but he wouldn't let me go.

God help me, he was strong, and his determination radiated from him. "But that's not why I was mad at you. Do you know how easily Cyclone and her bitches could have been someone that wanted to hurt you? Do you have any idea how easy it would have been for one of them to be carrying a knife or a gun?"

I rolled my eyes and pried his hand off my mouth. "They were half-naked, Smoke. Unless they had a gun shoved up their skank hole I would have seen it."

"What if they were just there to lure you out of the room?" A hard tremble went through him. "You could have been taken from me. I could have lost you."

I softened slightly at the thinly veiled distress in his words and cupped his cheek, rubbing my thumb against the bristles along his jaw. "Smoke, you can't watch me 24/7. You have to trust that I can take care of myself and make my own judgment calls. I'm not stupid." The word sat on my tongue in a sour curl. "And I don't like it when you just flip out without listening to me."

He held my hand against his face and nuzzled his lips against my palm before speaking. "I know you're not stupid, and you will never be a burden. Trust me, Swan, I think you're one of the smartest people I've ever met. Your brilliance stuns me, but you don't have the experience with people that I do. Not just 'cause you were sheltered, but because you haven't been around people who want to use you, to do you harm. I have. I know how easily you could be snatched up and the terrible things they would do to you."

His voice dropped to a low growl at the end, and I wrapped myself around him, squeezing him with my arms and legs until there wasn't an inch of room between us. I was all too familiar with overprotective men, and as much as I loved Smoke, he had to know he couldn't obsess about my safety. It would drive us both crazy.

"I'm sorry I scared you," I whispered against his chest. "When they knocked on the door I thought it was you or Hulk."

"Where the fuck was Hulk?" Smoke growled. "He was supposed to be watching you."

"Maybe he thought one of those women was one of the sweet butts sabotaging the club."

Smoke stilled, the muscle of his jaw twitching against my palm. "He told you about that?"

"Yeah, and I'm glad he did. I want this to end. I want to find Sarah. I want to find my Mom. If finding out who the traitors are helps, then I'm all for doing what I can."

He rubbed his face against the side of my head, tension tightening his body beneath mine as he whispered, "I want to lock you away from the world so you'll never have you know a moment of sorrow. But I can't do that, and it fucking kills me. Protecting my people is what I do, what I've always done, but the one person who means more than anyone ever has is the one person I can't keep safe."

Now I was the one rubbing his back, soothing the unspoken fear that was at the heart of his words. "You're not God. You can't predict the future, and you can't be everywhere at once."

"We'll see about that," he muttered. "Just promise me, baby girl, that you'll take a moment to think before you act, that you won't put yourself in danger."

"I won't purposely put myself in danger, but I will deal with whatever comes my way. I love you, Miguel, with all of my heart, and I will fight to protect you, always."

He gently cupped my chin and lifted my face to his. The look in his eyes wasn't one of anger and fear anymore, but lust and determination. "Do you have any idea what you do to me? Any idea what you mean to me?"

"Of course I do." I placed a gentle kiss on his full lips. "Because you mean the same to me. But you're still an asshole, and if you keep this up, I'm going to punch you right in your baby maker."

His laughter ghosted over me and he shook his head, rubbing our noses together. "But then I wouldn't be able to fuck you."

I grunted. "Good point, you owe me an apology."

Light reflected in his eyes from the moon as he titled his head and gave me a slow smile. "I do, don't I."

His voice held a carnal edge that sent a shiver up my spine. "May I suggest something?"

I ran my hand over the firm expanse of his chest, trailing my fingers over the patches on his vest. "What would that be?"

He whispered the words against my sensitive lips, making me tingle from head to toe. "Sometime in the future I want you to torture me with orgasm denial."

"What...how?"