by Lane Hart
“All right. What else?”
“You have to wear what I pick out for you,” he says with a smirk.
I take a deep breath and let it out. How bad could it be? “Agreed.” Before he can make any more odd demands of me, I ask, “How will we split the proceeds?”
“You get them all,” Cannon says.
“What?”
“It’s a fundraiser for your campaign. We’ll make that clear. One hundred percent of the proceeds will go to you.”
“But shouldn’t the Kings recoup some of the money for the food and drinks along with the bike?”
“No, we’ll cover it.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m sure,” Cannon says with a shake of his head. “We’re not as poor as you think we are.”
“I don’t think you’re poor,” I tell him honestly. “I’ve seen your house, remember?”
“You like our house?” he asks with a grin.
“It’s a great house.”
“Great. There’s that word again.”
“It’s a lovely home. You and Conrad should be proud of it,” I assure him.
“I was proud of you earlier,” he says, and I think the comment surprised him as much as it did me, because he sits up straighter and then suddenly gets to his feet.
“Ah, well, thanks,” I reply, not sure how else to respond to something so sweet.
“I’ll go see if the prospects need any help.” He starts to stride out of the room as if he’s embarrassed, muttering something under his breath. Cannon Erikson embarrassed? Now that would have to be a first. And crazy enough, I think it’s so cute that I can’t stop smiling. Also, I find I don’t want him to leave just yet when there’s something that’s been bugging me ever since the press conference.
“Cannon, wait!” I yell to stop him.
“Yeah?” he asks, one hand gripping the doorway, facing away from me.
“Do you think…should I go back to my place tonight?” I ask since I don’t want to bring up the discussion of whether he and the prospects should leave me alone. After what happened, I feel safe with them. Maybe Bailey won’t try anything, or maybe he will. I don’t want to take that chance.
Finally, Cannon looks at me over his shoulder. “I wish you would stay with me until after the election.”
“Okay,” I agree, maybe too easily as I sigh in relief. “Thanks, Cannon.”
He flashes me a quick smile, and then he’s gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Cannon
The next week and a half go by in a blur. I haven’t worked so hard since we opened up the Harley dealership. But in a way, I guess a campaign is sort of like launching a business, except that business is a person – a sexy, stubborn, and incredibly determined person.
Since Conrad handles most of the social media for the dealership, I got him to help get Madison’s set up. She didn’t seem to think it was worth the trouble, but we disagreed. So that was keeping Conrad busy while he and Hannah hid out in one of the Kings’ beach houses.
You would think that without the two of them in the house, it would mean a lot of alone time with Madison, but that didn’t happen. The prospects were always there, one in the house, one outside; and her office was always busy, which meant zero alone time with her like the afternoon after her press conference. The one when she hugged me like she meant it. I haven’t touched her since, which is probably a good thing; because once I start, I may not be able to stop, which would be bad for everyone involved.
The night of the party was on us in the blink of an eye. All of Saturday was spent getting the dealership ready. By the time we were finished with all the purple, green and gold decorations, it looked like a brand-new night club. I just hope Madison approves and people actually show up; because if not, then having the shimmering glitter covering nearly every surface will be all for nothing.
The attached Savage Kings with their significant others were the first guests to arrive. But by then, the, ah, entertainment, as the guys were calling it, were already dressed in our matching black slacks, gold eye masks, and a mountain of beads around our necks, but no shirts. We had all thrown in fifty bucks into the pool to see who can sell the most beads at five dollars each. Sure, the plastic necklaces probably aren’t worth more than ten cents. But it’s not the beads that make it worth the cash, but the fact that the buyer gets to feel us up as they remove them.
When everyone starts heading out of the lounge, I get in front of Jake and Lucas to tell them, “Forget the beads. You two are going to take turns shadowing Madison, close but not too close. I’ll let you figure out the schedule; but if I look at her and don’t see one of you within five feet, I’m going to be pissed. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they both say with a nod, their eyes wide behind their masks.
I gesture for them to go out to the main floor, following behind them. More people have started trickling in, maybe fifty, but I do a quick search for Madison and can’t find her.
“Where is she at?” Jake wonders aloud, voicing the same question I had.
“I don’t see her. Her mask is black with purple feathers on one side, right?” Lucas asks.
“That’s right. I’ll go see if she’s still changing,” I tell them. “But how long does it take to put on a dress?”
The prospects shrug.
“You both stay here in case I’m wrong,” I tell them before I go back through the lounge and to the unisex bathroom. The door’s locked, so I knock on it. “Madison? Are you in there?”
“Yes.”
“Are you planning to come out tonight?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What?” I ask when the door finally unlocks, and she pulls it open just an inch so all I can see is part of her face. She hasn’t put her mask on yet.
“I can’t go out there like this.”
“Why not? Are you sick?”
“No! You need to find me another dress.”
“What’s wrong with the one I gave you? Is it too small? Too big?”
“No, it’s too…revealing.”
“That’s the point!” I explain to her. “Women aren’t going to like you anyway, so you may as well appeal to the men tonight.”
“I look ridiculous,” she says, leaning away as if she’s glancing at herself in the mirror.
“Are you dressed?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then let me in,” I tell her, pushing on the door so that I can squeeze through. Madison takes two steps back to let me inside, and then the door closes on its own behind me. At least I think it closes. I’m not sure of anything at the moment because everything in the world disappears except for Madison.
“Wow.”
The word comes out of my mouth as I stare at Madison in the mini dress I bought her. There are stripes of various colored sequins – of course there’s green, purple and gold in it, but also black and a lighter blue. The front crosses in a deep V-neck at the top, making it obvious that she’s not wearing a bra underneath, and it’s held on her shoulders by tiny straps. I’m not sure which part is my favorite, her gorgeous heavy tits that are as naturally tanned as the rest of her or how short the dress is on her, several inches above her knees, making her lean legs look like they go on for miles.
Eventually, when she doesn’t say anything, my eyes finally make it up to her face. Her makeup is as perfect as always, those full pouty lips painted a dark pink; and her hair is pulled back in the tight bun. And while I expected her eyes to be narrowed in anger because I was checking her out, she’s actually staring at my shirtless chest and abs or she’s captivated by the cheap, plastic beads.
“I, ah, I don’t understand the problem,” I tell her honestly while trying to keep my lower body from showing her just how much it’s enjoying the view and her captivated interest in me. I remove my mask from my face and shove it in my back pocket because it feels ridiculous to have it on while talking to her.
Closing her eyes for a second, sh
e turns around to look in the mirror over the sink. “There’s too much skin showing.”
My first response would be to say, “No, there’s not enough skin showing for me,” but instead I tell her, “I think you look sexy as hell.” I can’t help but tilt my head to get a nice look at her ass now that it’s facing me, looking so thick and juicy. How come I hadn’t noticed her ass was amazing before now?
“If I lean forward even an inch, you can see my butt cheeks!” As if she thought I needed a demonstration, Madison plants her palms on the sides of the sink counter next to her feathered mask and bends forward just enough that I can see the bottom of her bare cheeks that are the same golden brown as the rest of her skin. Which means she’s either wearing no panties at all or a thong. Knowing her, there’s definitely a thong underneath. She’s a good girl that wouldn’t go without them.
“Maybe I could put a pair of leggings on under them,” she says while tugging the sequin hem down in the back.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I tell her. “Plenty of women wear less than this to the club, and a lot of them are right outside this door in similar dresses despite the cool weather.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Madison whispers, hanging her head, and letting her shoulders drop. I’m pretty sure she’s referring to more than the dress.
“Do what?” I ask for clarification to try and get her to tell me the problem. “You can’t wear the dress? You already are, baby, and it would be a waste not to let anyone see it.”
“No,” she replies softly. “I mean meeting all of those people. I’m not great at chitchat or being fake nice. They’re going to hate me.”
“No one is going to hate you,” I tell her. “Well, except all of the women.”
“Thanks, Cannon,” she says, her eyes glaring at me in the mirror.
Dammit, I hate seeing her like this – so unsure of herself. I miss the confident kick-ass woman that I know she is inside. I’m not psychic, but I think everyone else will too if she doesn’t get all high and mighty on them. Since I can’t say that to her without pissing her off, I move up behind her and tell her, “You’re thinking too hard about this. You just need to relax and stop being so uptight all the time.”
“I don’t know how! I’m freaking out. I’m better behind the scenes, not in the spotlight!”
“Yeah, I know,” I agree since there are plenty of people who don’t like socializing with strangers. It takes guts. Guts that I know Madison has if she wasn’t panicking about it. “And I know something that may help you unwind just a little.”
I reach up to her bun and start undoing it before she can stop me. There’s something about the conservative style that doesn’t match her dress.
“Don’t! Ugh, it’s going to take forever to fix again,” Madison complains as I unroll the ponytail from the tight spiral and pull the clear elastic band free. Her midnight hair is even longer than I realized, falling to the middle of her back. And the more undone it comes, the thicker it seems to grow, sort of like one of my body parts at the moment. As I run my fingers through the long strands to separate it, Madison’s head falls back, and then she’s combing her own fingers through the front, parting it to the right so that most of her hair falls over her right shoulder like waves of black silk.
“You’re gorgeous, especially with your hair down like this,” I tell her. And then, I’m unable to keep my hands from molding against the sides of her narrow waist where her hair ends, sliding them lower, over her much wider hips. She’s got the perfect hourglass figure, and I have no clue why she doesn’t ever flaunt it.
With the front of her body blocking the view in the mirror, I take a step closer to her to look over her left shoulder as my palms curve around her hips. Only my thumbs touch the curve of her ass before they slide to the short hem of her dress. There I’m touching her smooth skin instead of the jagged sequins.
I thought for sure Madison would’ve swatted my hands away before she let them go so far, but her fingers are still tightly gripping the sides of the sink counter and her face doesn’t look the least bit angry. No, with her hair trailing down her shoulder, over one of her breasts, her eyes have darkened, and she looks…hungry. I want to give her exactly what she’s craving, but not until she tells me to. The last thing I want is to make any assumptions, especially when it’s only been a week and a half since she was attacked in her house by two strange men.
“Are you ready to go out now?” I ask her.
She shakes her head before I hear the word from her lips. “No.”
“You need more convincing?”
“Yes.” That one word is so soft I barely hear it, but I saw her lips moving.
Bending my head, I watch her watching me in the mirror and let my lips graze lightly over her bare skin next to the thin strap of her dress. Instead of breaking the spell, Madison’s body melts a little before her bottom presses back against the front of my hips as if encouraging me to keep going.
I let one of the fingers on each hand tease underneath the short hem of her dress, making it inch up as I press my lips more firmly to her shoulder, this time, on the other side of the strap closer to her neck. “Are you wearing any panties under here?” I ask when I slide my right hand down her bare thigh and then slide it up under her dress.
“Yes.” This time her voice is a little louder, clearer but still breathless.
“What color?” My lips kiss her shoulder again, moving closer and closer to her neck.
“I-I can’t remember,” Madison replies as she tips her head to the side as if she wants my mouth to keep going.
“You don’t remember.” My lips smile as they make their first contact with her neck, causing her to gasp and her eyes to nearly close. She shakes her head right before my fingertips move higher up her right thigh, so that if I stretched my finger up, I could probably touch the panties in question.
Madison’s chest is moving up and down, faster and faster, drawing my attention to her sexy cleavage. And while I would love to get my mouth on her tits, that probably wouldn’t do her much good, and I’m trying not to get distracted from my purpose here.
“Can I see them?” I ask before I press my lips right below her ear.
“What?” she asks. Her eyes are fully closed, and her brow is furrowed. Now she can’t remember what we were talking about just seconds ago because she’s so turned on. I know I have skills, but most women take a little more than my mouth on their neck and a hand on their thigh before they get so easily distracted. I thought Madison would still be uptight and in control, giving orders even when a man was inside of her. Looks like I was wrong.
“Can I see your panties, Madison?”
Her response isn’t the one I was expecting when she says, “Please.” That one word makes my cock go rock hard, because I’m pretty sure she’s begging me to do more than lift her skirt and see what’s underneath.
My fingers are nearly frantic when they grab the sequins on either side and yank her dress up over her hips and further, until I see her belly button and the white lace thong with blue flowers underneath.
Fuck.
Even her panties are classy and sexy as hell. They probably cost a fortune and were probably meant for the eyes of some lawyer or doctor who wants to put a ring on her finger, not an unemployed, playboy biker.
I hate that goddamn thought.
The two of us couldn’t be more different. And there are a million reasons why I should back off and leave her right now. But she’s desperate and aching for someone to touch her, so by God, it’s going to be me this one time.
I grab her so roughly, so possessively through those delicate panties, that Madison gasps and her eyes fly open to watch in the mirror. No woman has ever felt this wet, this hot before I even get her panties off. The lace is soaked.
Some of that dazed look washes away and is replaced with a glowing redness across her cheeks. She’s embarrassed. Not because I’ve got her dress hiked up around her waist and am touching her, but becaus
e she didn’t want me to feel how affected she is by my touch.
I realize I’ve been holding my hips back for the exact same reason. I didn’t want her to know my dick is so hard for her it hurts and I’m not even sure why. Maybe because I wasn’t sure she felt the same. Now I know I was wrong.
When I close the distance between us, I press against her ass so hard that her pelvis rams it and my hand into the counter. We both moan long and loud at the contact; and if there’s pain, I didn’t feel it. My fingers could be broken and bloody, and it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would matter except for the woman in front of me.
Before I can recover from the ecstasy of my shaft nestled between the perfect globes of her ass with nothing but her tiny thong and my pants between us, Madison says my name both as a question and a demand. She reaches back and cups the side of my head, bringing my mouth back down to her throat. From there, it’s all just a blur of her taste on my lips and my right hand plunging into the front of her panties to touch her flesh.
“Oh my god!” she cries out when I rub the pads of my fingers over her clit and then lower to plunge the middle one into her slick pussy.
“Fuck,” I groan into her neck when I nearly come right then and there in my pants. I bite down hard enough on my bottom lip to try and keep myself in check but miss her skin too much to resist licking and sucking at her neck.
Madison moans what sounds like a sobbing slur of my name before she fists a handful of my hair and arches her back. If we were naked, it would be the perfect position for me to slide right into her from behind. But we’re not, so the next best thing is to fuck her like this, through our clothes, with only my fingers.
“More. Please,” Madison says when her other hand covers mine that’s in her panties, wanting my fingers to move deeper while the heel of my hand presses harder against her clit. “Yes!” she exclaims when she’s getting what she needs from me. Her body begins to sag and then she’s trembling all over, nearly pulling my hair out as she comes. As the tremors begin to ease up, she opens her eyes, and they lock with mine in the mirror filled with warmth and gratitude and an urgent longing for more. The more is made even more obvious when she leans forward, pressing her chest to the sink counter.
