Cowboy Bikers MC #3 - Esther E. Schmidt Page 0,2

snap and take the guitar case he was shoving at me.

I take the duffle bag from Muriel’s shoulder and spin on my heels. I have to ignore her for now and get my raging body under control before I say or do something stupid. Like speak a claim or push her against the fence, ripping down her tight jeans to bury myself deep and make both of us come with a mind-blowing orgasm.

I give a sharp whistle and Hammer is running ahead of me before I can so much as blink. The large building up ahead is a massive space we basically use as our clubhouse. It has a main room we can relax and eat in along with a big kitchen and rooms for most of the bikers this MC has. I have a room in there too, but I’ve also been building a cabin next to Roper and Weston.

They each have their own space and an old lady. Me? I need the time and space for myself and Hammer. The last few months I’ve been taking care of a lot of things here at the ranch and the junkyard we own.

Working nonstop allows me the privilege of my own space. A lot of my brothers don’t need it and are happy with a room at the main house, but they are still young where I’m getting older and crave some quiet time and solitude every now and then.

“Make yourself at home,” I tell her as I stalk inside the cabin.

Hammer jumps on the couch and starts his staring match while Muriel is uncomfortably standing in the middle of the room.

“Seeing this situation might be awkward for the both of us, let me make some things clear so we know what to expect. It might make things easier to deal with.”

Her throat bobs and a silky, rugged voice enters my ears when she says, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Smooth as silk and yet the rough punch of decades old whiskey: the burn making you feel it—appreciate it—longer than the taste that lingers. Yeah, no wonder this woman is a damn good singer.

“I’m in charge at all times. Trust me to have the better judgement in any situation, your life might depend on it. You and I will be attached by the hip for this reason. You’re not to leave my sight unless I place you in the safety of two of my brothers, but that won’t happen. Your safety is my priority, and mine alone. One bedroom, we’ll share. Bathroom is through there, kitchen there, we’re standing in the living room. Hammer is my dog. Leave him be and he’ll tolerate you in return. Clear?”

Stormy gray eyes narrow as she says, “You introduced the dog but not yourself. And the sharing a bedroom part? I don’t think—”

“It’s nonnegotiable,” I snap, cutting her off. “My eyes will be on you twenty-four-seven.”

“For the first two days, maybe. Then you’ll crash and will have to shut your eyes. And we won’t be sharing a bed,” she snaps and places her hands on her hips.

Hammer growls low in his throat and her eyes slide to him as she lowers her arms and panic visibly starts to fill her gaze.

“Relax. He won’t attack and neither will I. When I mentioned we will share the bedroom, I meant I will be sleeping in the chair I have in the corner next to the bed. It’s not my first security detail and for sure not the first stalker case I’ve worked on. And Hammer here only attacks if people are fighting or if I give him the command. You’re completely safe and carefree when you’re around me.”

“Can I get that in black and white because safe and carefree is something I didn’t exactly understand or realize until I wasn’t any longer.” The sigh ripping from her body while her shoulders sag makes me want to close the distance and pull her into my arms.

But that would be unprofessional.

Screw unprofessional. She might be a job, and the government is handing me a fat paycheck for the favor I’m doing them, but at the end of the day? No one controls me. And I’ve always been the kind of person who follows his gut instincts because I’m never wrong.

In three steps I’ve closed the distance and roughly plaster her against me. Maybe a little too rough because she grunts and grabs my leather cut to balance herself. She doesn’t complain about the roughness, nor the fact she’s being