Her Prince (The Wounded Souls Series Book 6)

by Leah Sharelle

  Shiloh’s eyes travelled down my body slowly, her concentration on my hard dick had her pink tongue licking over those pouty lips. Lips that brought me to my knees on a regular basis. Oh, fuck, what that tongue is capable of. I resisted the urge to shift my dick in my pants and, instead, strode over to where Shiloh stood with her brother and Gabe. I might not be able to claim her in front of the club like I wanted too—yet—but Gabe knew. He was one of a few select people who knew that Shiloh was mine, and soldier or not, I would lay the fucker out if he didn’t take his bloody hands off her.

  Shiloh’s eyes widened as I got closer to her, and her hands dropped from Gabe’s bulked body. Good girl. Her cheeks flushed the sexiest pink blush. Yeah, I know what you are thinking, beautiful. So was I. I wanted to sink into her tight heat and not come out for days, to feel those talented hands on my body, her clever mouth on my skin, and her sexy thighs wrapped around me while her husky voice screamed my name over and over.

  I was only a few feet from my woman when I heard Bastian let out a deep chuckle.

  “Oh, shit, I know that look, Squirt.” His head turned in my direction, and his face split into a shit-eating grin. “Yep, here comes your alpha arsehole.” Bastian greeted me in the only way Bastian could.

  I couldn’t help the smirk that played on my lips.

  “G’day, brother. Good to have you home. Gabe, good to see you, too, man. Now get your fucking hands off my fiancée.” I growled the last few words, meaning the vehemence behind them. The logical part of my brain knew Gabe would never go there, the caveman side, the side that was exposed when Shiloh was involved.

  Gabe threw his head back and laughed a deep, rich laugh, one that mirrored his father’s laugh.

  “Jesus Christ, Zander, lighten up, mate. I was just saying hello to the princess.” Poking my inner bear, Gabe gave Shiloh one last kiss to her cheek, then stood back so I could insert myself between him and my beautiful woman.

  “Don’t piss me off, brother,” I warned in a deep, gravelly voice. My constant state of protectiveness over Shiloh might be stupid and totally irrational, but I didn’t give a fuck. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to try, which I didn’t because she was my only obsession.

  Gabe slapped me hard on the shoulder. “Good to see you, mate. I could hear you growling over at the bar. I see you have added more bulk to your already overly muscled frame,” Gabe joked good-naturedly. To him, it was a joke, but to me? It was just another thing that pissed me off about Gabriel Booth. The kids of the Souls had grown up with each other from birth, and we were all best friends. Bastian, Gabe, the twins, Meagan—we were only months apart in age, and all six of us were somewhere between twenty and twenty-one. The twins, Evie and Lacie, were already twenty-one and were the eldest, and I wasn’t far off. Over the next few weeks, there were going to be quite a few birthdays celebrated at the club. That celebration was going to include the club finding out that not only did I love Shiloh, but we were also engaged. My beautiful woman was going to be on board with my plans whether she liked them or not.

  Her reasons for keeping us secret were once valid ones. I would give her a little more time only because I fucking loved her so much, and I had trouble saying no to her cute arse. I wanted our relationship out in the open, and I wanted everyone to know Shiloh Johnston was mine. I wanted to start our life together with our family by our sides.

  “Congratulations on finishing at Duntroon. Your old man has been bragging about you all day,” I told Gabe. I really was happy in his achievement. Gabe and I may go head to head on a regular basis, our childhood was one big brawl, but he was a Wounded Soul and a brother. He didn’t wear an officer’s patch like I did, but he still wore a cut. He was a member as all of us sons were. His decision like Bastian and my younger brother Cole made to follow in our fathers’ footsteps and go into the military was a noble one. For me, I never wanted to take that path. My father was my hero, and I truly idolised the man. His integrity and loyalty to his club and his family was something I had always been in awe of. I especially admired the deep and never-ending love he had for my mum. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

  Her disability, if it had to be called that, never stopped her from being a kick-arse mother to my three brothers, my sister, and me. Blindness certainly hadn’t stopped her from raising five kids, and my dad was always by her side.

  Gabe grinned the famous Booth grin. “Thanks, brother. I hear you are making a name for yourself here. Dad tells me you are now the club’s new road captain. Congratulations. I never thought Creed would step down.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, neither did I, to be honest, but Dad wants to slow down a bit, spend more time in the bike shop—or shops as we have five now. Mum is thrilled and is now trying to convince him to take a cruise.” I stopped when Shiloh sidled up closer to me, her shoulder resting against my arm. Her scent invaded my nostrils, causing my concentration to the conversation with Gabe to waver. Fuck, I wanted to hold her in my arms, feel her body mould to mine. Instead, I leaned my body more into hers. Taking what I could get… for now.

  “Things are changing around here,” Gabe said with a pointed look at the closeness of Shiloh and me. “Maybe some more changes need to be put out there.” His knowing grey eyes narrowed at Shiloh.

  I couldn’t help my smirk. Gabe could piss me off, but he understood me more than he did Shiloh, and to be honest, right now, I didn’t understand my woman dragging her feet.

  “Gabe, please don’t,” Shiloh begged in a hushed voice.

  “No, Squirt. There aren’t any rules set down by the club about no relationships between members. That cut you wear means you don’t have to hide this,” Gabe said with a wave of his hands at our touching arms. “Unless you are embarrassed to tell everyone about you and Zander.”

  Even over the music, I heard the soft shocked gasp that came from Shiloh.

  “Please, Gabe, stop it,” Shiloh begged again. Her voice, low and pained, ripped at my heart and brought my inner caveman back up to play.

  “Too far, Gabriel. Shiloh has her reasons and being ashamed of our love is not one of them. She wears my ring, brother. Remember that,” I said, the warning in my words and tone clear.

  “Does she really? Funny, all I see is a bare finger, Zander.”

  “What the fuck is your problem? If you have something on your mind, please spit it out.” My blood was really starting to boil. Gabe had a reputation for being a bit of a mouth, but he usually kept things more on the humorous side. Tonight, he was steadily treading over the line.

  “Hon, it’s okay. Please, let it go,” Shiloh said to me in a soft voice, the voice she used just for me. Her eyes, those big, sapphire blue orbs that could bring me to my knees, beseeched me to understand.

  A silent message passed from me to my woman. I got your back, Spunky. I always would, but my woman was no damsel in distress.

  She then turned those eyes on Gabe and, inwardly, I hoped she was going to kick his arse. My woman in full bad-arse biker chick mode was a sight to behold. Growing up in an MC, girl or boy, we were taught how to fight and defend ourselves. Most of the kids knew the basics, but a few of us, Shiloh included, went a few steps more.

  “Gabe, I get that you don’t understand what is going on here, and, to be honest, I don’t give two shits. You aren’t here every day, and you aren’t an officer of the club, so you couldn’t possibly know what it means to wear one. Zander does, and so do I.” Shiloh paused and looked down at the VP patch on her cut.

  The pride shining in her eyes and on her face made me want to pick her up and kiss the shit out of her. Shiloh fought all the usual stereotypical comments not only about her lifelong desire to be a patched member of the Wounded Souls but also her determination to become an officer, and she reached that dream when Steel announced he was retiring his VP position. No one was shocked that Steel stepped down since my dad retired last year, and I stepped up into the role of road captain. Steel didn’t h
ave any sons to hand his position down to—to his joy and Aunt Mia’s shock, they had four daughters, and each and every one of them was a complete and total girly girl. Meagan and her younger sisters—Anne, Mylee, and Christy—were all princesses to the hilt, and Steel loved it. Being surrounded by all that estrogen didn’t bother the big guy—not one bit. In fact, he loved it. To his children and wife’s chagrin, now that he was retired, he had more time to devote to making their lives unbearable with his over-protective and alpha caveman ways.

  I chuckled silently. All my uncles were crazy when it came to the women in their lives, and I was no different with mine. Watching Shiloh in her current mode turned me on, no doubt about it. I loved how strong and independent she was and that she could handle herself when a drunken fool came onto her. In bed, though, she put all that aside and let me take the lead. Fuck! Now was not the time for my dick to rear his head, literally. I discreetly adjusted the growing bulge in my jeans and concentrated back on the conversation.

  “I am just saying—” Gabe tried to finish his sentence, but Shiloh wasn’t having any of it.

  “What you are saying doesn’t matter, cuz. Zander understands, and that’s all that matters. I may not have my ring on right now but taking it off doesn’t mean I don’t love him. I am trying to do something important here, and when the time is right, Zander and I will stand in front of the club and our parents and announce our engagement. Enough said.” Her tone didn’t allow for more shit from Gabe or anyone else. When Shiloh said enough, it was enough. Except in bed when she screamed enough but held my face tighter against her wet pussy—it meant more. Again, my dick made his presence known. I needed to get my woman back to our place and fucking soon.

  I looked again at the spitfire who held my heart. She was right about one thing. She loved me, and I felt it every time she touched me. The one thing she didn’t understand and probably never would was how much I loved her. There was nothing without Shiloh. My heart would stop beating if she left my life. That wasn’t going to fucking happen. Not ever.

  Club or no club, Shiloh was mine.

  Chapter 3

  Shiloh

  You know Gabe was just trying to push your buttons, Squirt. He didn’t mean any harm or mean to be nasty.

  I nodded my head in response to what Darth was saying to me. That didn’t mean I wasn’t still pissed off about the confrontation between Gabriel, Zander, and myself.

  Gabe was a great guy, who grew up loving the club life just as I had. His dad was still the president of the club he started with my dad over twenty-five years ago. The only difference was Gabe didn’t want to follow in all his dad’s footsteps. Instead, he followed Booth by going into the army, and my brother did the same. The story of brotherhood and the comradery our fathers found in the army were the steps they wanted to take.

  I remembered as a kid I wanted to be a ninja and a soldier, silly little girl dreams. Well, not all of them because I followed my dream and became a mechanic and spray painter. I earned an apprenticeship, and under the tutelage of Creed, not only had I achieved those goals but I just finished my panel beater certificate, too. Those dreams didn’t come easy in a world mainly dominated by males. I copped a lot of flak from my fellow trade schoolmates, and being the only girl in all my classes, I found I had to continually prove myself. No one ever gave me special treatment. Not at school or when I was working in the bike shop. Creed worked me hard and made sure I excelled in every trade. He mentored me in every way, but most of all, he believed in me. He never made fun or made me feel like I was wasting his time because he knew my dreams were serious—real. The fact I was the princess of the Wounded Souls didn’t mean diddly squat to him, and if I couldn’t get a bolt undone, he stood back and waited until I did. There had been no preferential treatment. Just a shitload of hard work and learning and a ton of support. Always support.

  “I know, Darth, but what he said was right. I am hiding my true relationship with Zander from the club and asking Zander to lie to not only his president but also his parents.”

  You know my opinion on that issue, kiddo. You are the VP of the Wounded Souls, honey. That in itself is quite an accomplishment—a female patched officer, second-in-command. Don’t you think you need to come clean and tell Booth and your dad about you and Zander? Hiding shit from the club ain’t the way we do things here.

  I huffed out a breath. “Thank you, Darth. More guilt please because that is exactly what I need right now.” I felt a tug at my hair, which made me smile. Darth didn’t touch me often—he said it was against the rules or something.

  I missed the feel of his big arms wrapped around me. When I was a little girl, Darth was one of seven men who were the centre of my universe. If I fell, there was always someone to pick me up. If I was sick, someone held me until I felt better again. Many of those times, it was Darth who had been my bodyguard, my sitter, and my best friend.

  Don’t sass me, Squirt. You have too many balls in play. Something has to give— Gotta go, Darth said abruptly, then I felt a whoosh, and Darth’s presence was gone.

  “Shiloh.” I heard my name growled from the end of the long corridor that led to the room I used when I stayed at the compound.

  Now understanding the big guy’s sudden departure, I quickened my steps to a jog. A giggle left my lips when another growl followed closely behind me. My heart pounded in my chest but not from exertion. Oh no, it raced because, any minute, my fiancé was going to chase me into my room, pull me into his arms, and take the kiss we have both been starving for since we said goodbye at the house this morning.

  As I stifled the laugh that threatened, I put my hand on the doorknob and pushed into the room, my core clenching with need and the anticipation of what was going to happen once Zander caught up with me and the door closed behind us.

  “Spunky, are you running from me?” The deep voice of my man was low and held a promise that if I played just a little more… Zander was going to rock my body and world.

  I raced to the other end of the room where the queen bed was. I didn’t bother with lights since the large skylight above the bed cast enough light around the room. Enough to see the handsome, chiselled face I was blessed to wake up to every morning for the rest of my life. A face that was now looking at me with hooded eyes, desire for me filling them.

  Zander prowled towards me, his mouth set in a thin line. He stopped and stood on the other side of the bed, his breath coming out in pants. My mouth went dry as my eyes took in the huge muscles on his arms and his chest, the T-shirt doing nothing to conceal the sheer mass of his chest.

  No one seeing Zander now would know he was four years younger than me. From the age of twelve, it became apparent to everyone at the club that Zander Stephens was going to be a beast. He surpassed his dad’s size in height and muscle at the age of seventeen, his voice was ridiculously deep, and his eyes were blacker than the night sky. I loved Zander’s eyes. The saying a person’s eyes were a window to their soul was true, but they were also a window to his heart. When Zander looked at me, I felt it all the way to my toes, and my heart flipped in my chest whenever those onyx orbs centred on me. Like now.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  The low spoken command drenched me between my thighs. Four words and I was putty in his hands. Reaching up, my fingers worked the buttons on my tight work shirt. I had discarded my cut earlier after my conversation with Gabe.

  “Don’t take your eyes off me, Shiloh,” Zander commanded when my gaze dropped to my chest.

  I whimpered but did exactly as I was told such was the power Zander had over me.

  “Good girl,” Zander praised while he removed his tee. As his large hands dragged the thin black garment over his head, revealing his hard, muscled torso, his hooded gaze was on the black lace bralette I wore.

  My breath caught in my throat at the sight of his naked chest, void of tattoos, so I could admire the perfection. No matter how many times I saw him shirtless, my reaction was always the same. There was no
one built like my prince.

  A small smirk graced Zander’s lips. “Concentrate, Spunky. Now take off your leather pants—slowly. Do not take your panties off with them.”

  Wetness flooded me, but my hands automatically went to the zip and button on my pants. I pushed the black leather down over my hips, careful not to take the pink lace barely-there panties in the process. Why? Because I loved the way Zander liked to remove my panties, fucking loved it.

  “Wait!” Zander growled. “Where is your ring?”

  Gasping, I pulled my pants back up and dug into the pocket for my engagement ring. Quickly finding it and slipping the two-carat diamond platinum band back onto my finger. I took the chance and removed my gaze from where Zander wanted it and looked at my beautiful ring. My job wasn’t really favourable for a large solitaire ring or one that had claws, and I wasn’t really that type of girly girl, and Zander knew this. He knew everything about me, more than I knew about myself. So instead of a round or a square diamond ring, he bought me a thick band inset with small princess cut diamonds. They sat flush with the height of the band so there was no danger of anything catching, which meant I would still be able to put on my mechanic gloves and still be able to work on an engine or handle a paint gun without harm coming to the ring. I could also get away with someone seeing it and asking about it. It wasn’t traditional, but neither was our relationship. I was the princess of the Wounded Souls—the VP with aspirations to go higher. Zander was the son of Creed and had taken on his father’s old position, and he was four years my junior. There was nothing normal about Zander and me, but we fit, and we made it work. The age gap never bothered us, but there was some part of me that worried once everyone finally found out about us, it would bother them, and then, somehow, their opinion would put a wedge between Zander and me.