Oh, how men just love to appear so damn tough and nonchalant.

Reading past it was easier than a 2nd grade math test, front and back… It was just so fucking clear to see when a man was trying his damnest not to appear interested, even if they were deeply in love with you.

You were nothing but a Crow Eater, but damn you were one fine piece. The way you swayed your hips when you walked in the SAMCRO clubhouse, the way you drank, the way you smiled.

Jesus the list was fuckin endless. Utterly god damn endless.

You were the perfect woman to the biker gang members, and the other Crow Eaters were envious of the attention you got. You had a boyfriend, but these guys are better.

Tonight was the night you were gonna meet Jax in person, he was the president of the gang and one tough mofo.

Everyone was terrified of him, and who can blame them? He was textbook definition of a biker gang member. The scruffy look, the loud bike, the wholeeeee shebang.

From the moment he even fucking laid his eyes on you, he knew he wanted you and everything you came with. Of course, he could see that you could handle him just from the first introduction.

You were like the fucking black plague, infecting his mind—and heart even though he had just met you. You were absolutely mesmerizing.

He was seated beside Opie in the clubhouse, his attention split between his red solo cup and you standing across the room.

“Fuckin’ son of a bitch—“ Jax huffs, standing up before setting his cup on the little table. He makes his way over to you and setting his hand on the nape of your neck.

All he did was whisper in your ear, “Cmon…” before walking off, just expecting you to follow.

I guess he couldn’t act so nonchalant anymore, after all.