“Nothing we do is wrong,” he told me. “If it feels good, is consensual, and mostly legal in all fifty states, then I don’t see anything wrong with it.”
I snickered at his words.
That snicker turned into a slight moan when he pulled out of me.
The rush of wetness let me know rather quickly that I’d fucked up.
That we’d fucked up.
“Ummm,” I hesitated. “We, uh, did this without, um, protection.”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
Chuckled.
He laughed!
What the hell?
I pressed my elbow into his chest and leaned up. His cock moved against my leg, and I knew that we were likely making a mess.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked him.
He smoothed his hand up my side, his fingers tickling the flesh over my tank top that was still, surprisingly, on.
“I’m clean,” he said. “It’s been a… while.”
My brows rose.
“You didn’t know that it’d been a while for me,” I countered.
His eyes moved until they were locked with mine. “I know.”
“How?” I asked.
“I deal in information,” he said. “I know things about you that you probably don’t even know.”
I scoffed at his words. “You do not.”
“I do,” he disagreed. “I know a lot about everyone. It’s how I make a living. However, saying that, there is one thing I’d like to know.”
I pursed my lips, not sure that I wanted him to know everything about me.
But… I found myself reluctant to not give him what he wanted.
Was that absolutely stupid? Because I was thinking it was.
“What?” I asked hesitantly.
“Why do you go?” he asked, pulling me in tight to his chest again.
My head was now resting against his upper pectoral, and I was so freakin’ comfortable I never wanted to leave.
He trailed his finger down the length of my cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair around my ear.
“My dad is…” I paused. “Suicidal. If I don’t go, he starts acting like I’ve committed the ultimate act of treason. It’s easier for him to see me in group settings, rather than go to his house.” I paused. “I’m terrified that if I go home, he’s going to be strung from the banister in his foyer. That’s… I don’t go home anymore, Lynn.”
His arms tightened on me.
“That’s what I was afraid you’d say,” he admitted. “I’ve done a lot of digging, and Ivan being in and out of a certain medical office led me to believe. But I always hoped that maybe it was because he had some dirt on the doctor.”
I snorted at his words. “The doctor definitely has dirt on him. But… my dad’s not a happy person. More often than not, he complains about everything. He’s bi-polar, and he has to be on meds or he gets really bad. I use the events he asks me to attend to take his measure, I guess. If he’s mad like he was today, I know that he’s on them. Because when he’s off them, he acts like I’ve murdered his dog, and doesn’t want me there at all.”
“That’s a lot to put on you, Six.” Lynn went back to petting my hair.
My eyes closed as pleasure started to unfold in my chest.
“He doesn’t have anyone else but me,” I said. “I think the reason he sent me away when I was young was to protect me from himself. He may not be a very nice person, but he’s my dad. Blood is blood.”
The man underneath me made a humming noise that vibrated his chest. “Just don’t let him take too much, Six. Because he will. One day, he will, and you’re going to have to put your foot down.”
I wasn’t sure that I liked that.
Not at all.
Because I had a feeling Lynn was right.
CHAPTER 13
I’m kind of chill and loveable. But mostly go fuck yourself.
-T-shirt
LYNN
“I have to drive home,” she murmured.
“I’ll drive you home,” I said, holding the sleepy woman to me tight.
“I don’t want to leave my car here,” she countered.
“I have someone that’ll take it,” I assured her.
She looked at me with a frown. “Who?”
“There were a couple of my men at the party. They were doing some reconnaissance. I’ll have one of them drive your vehicle to your place,” I promised.
In fact, as I said this, I pulled out my phone and texted Kage. Kage texted back immediately saying they would take it now.
“I don’t know…”
Her car started up, and seconds later it was pulling out of the parking lot.
She sat up at the familiar sound of her car and watched as it drove away.
“What…” She paused. “Were they there the whole time?”
I felt my stomach drop.
“If I say yes, will you be pissed as hell?” I asked.
Because they were.
I highly doubted they watched or anything, but there was no doubt in my mind they knew exactly what we’d been doing in here for the last hour.
“I’ll be mildly annoyed,” she said, squirming in my lap. “I would’ve liked to change into my dress, though. Now I’ll have to go into Buc-ees like this.”
I looked down at her naked bottom half.
“You won’t be going in there like that,” I declared.
“No,” she agreed. “I’ll be wearing that suit jacket of yours and my shorts.”
I looked at my suit jacket that was still on my body, as well as my pants for that matter.
The only thing out was my cock, and even that was getting hard again thanks to her wiggling in my lap.
“If you don’t stop moving, we’re going to be using the car again,” I told her bluntly.
She froze. “We really need to get inside and go home.”
I let her go, and she moved so that she was sitting on the seat next to me.
“Do you have any towels or wet wipes in here?” she asked.
I knew she fully expected me to say no. Because why would I?
But I was sometimes in need of things to clean my hands off. When you were who I was, you sometimes needed to clean blood and dirt off when you least expected it. That was why I pulled a set of baby wipes out from behind my seat.
“What are you doing with those?” she asked as she took them warily.
“Sometimes…” I paused. “Do you really want to know why I have them?”
“Yes… unless it’s because you regularly fuck women in your car and tie them down with your seatbelts and your handy dandy handcuffs.”
My lips twitched at her words.
“I can assure you that I’ve never fucked anyone in this car, or any other car that I own,” I told her with total assurance.
She looked at me cagily as she opened the wipes and took three out.
She handed me one, and I used it to clean my cock off while simultaneously watching her as she wiped herself clean.
When she was done, she used the last to clean off the leather seat that she’d been sitting on.
“You’re probably gonna have to dry-clean that suit,” she said. “I’ll bet there are more stains than you’re seeing.”
I shrugged and got out of the car, causing her to squeak.
“Lynn!” she hissed. “Close the damn door! I’m half naked here.”
I was blocking the entire doorway with my body.
“No one can see you, Six,” I told her. “My body is blocking the door. Hurry up.”
She dove for her underwear and shorts that were on the floor, and once again I was struck by just how indecent they were.
“If you wear that underneath my suit jacket, it’s going to look like you’re not wearing any pants,” I told her.
She shrugged and pulled her tank top down over the top of the shorts.
“I’m wearing clothes.” She paused. “I don’t have any shoes.”
Her face all but fell. “You’re g
oing to have to go in there and get me some shoes.”
I grinned at her swiftly. “This place will have shoes?”
Her eyes lit up. “This place will have everything you could only ever dream of it having.”
Five minutes later, I found out that she was right.
They did, indeed, have shoes.
They also had sweatpants that said ‘Buc-ee Me’ on the ass.
I got those for her, too.
When she was dressed in the sweats and slippers I’d found, we walked in together.
She reached for my hand when she caught her toe on the curb and never dropped it again.
Together—reluctantly on my end—we perused the shelves of Buc-ees.
“What do you think of this?” she asked as she showed me a Velcro patch that said, ‘Buck this.’
“Do you have anything that you could put that on?” I asked. “Because if you don’t, it’d be a useless buy.”
She squinted her eyes. “Haven’t you ever bought anything that you didn’t need?”
“Sure,” I said. “But not at a gas station.”
“You’ve never bought road trip snacks?” she asked.
As I looked at her, she was currently adding roasted pecans to her cart.
Yes, you heard that correctly. Cart. In a gas station.
“Yes,” I said. “But I’ve also only ever bought what I needed. Like a bottle of water. Something to eat. Never junk.”
I looked at the cart with a raised brow so she would get my meaning.
She flipped me off, then paused next to a rack of spices.
Spices.
At a fuckin’ gas station.
“What do you think the ‘everything’ tastes like?” she wondered.
I waited for her to add it to the cart. She did moments later.
“It probably tastes like salt and pepper combined that you could buy for about ten dollars cheaper at a grocery store,” I told her. “Are you going to get anything else?”
She looked to the other half of the store that we hadn’t even gotten to yet.
“Probably,” she admitted.
She was right.
Not only did she get more junk, but she also loaded up on food that she probably didn’t need this late at night.
“So why are you going to a prison tomorrow?” she asked, likely thinking I wouldn’t answer her.
So she’d overheard my conversation earlier. Interesting.
In that moment, though, I knew that I had a choice. I could either continue to keep her out of my life, and keep her safe but on the outside looking in. Or, I could let her in, show her my world, and hope that she stayed.
I wasn’t sure that the first option would ever work with her, to be honest.
Firstly, she wasn’t the type to ever allow me to just go to a prison and not ask questions. She would want to know why I was there, and what I was doing while I was. Not many people went to prisons just for the hell of it.
Secondly, I wanted her to know what I was doing. I wanted her to know who I was.
“Can I tell you when we’re in the SUV?” I asked.
She looked at me skeptically. “You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” she asked as she blindly reached for a package of chocolate chip cookies.
She missed and hit a second into her cart.
I watched her eyes. “One of what people?”
“Those people that call a car a car. And a truck a truck. An SUV an SUV.” She shuddered.
My lips twitched hard.
“Ummm,” I hesitated. “Yeah.”
That was what they were…
“Gross,” she mumbled as she pushed the cart forward. “I was actually in here before I drove all the way to Dallas. I don’t need to go on the other side of the store. I’m more looking forward to what you have to say about this prison scheme.”
She said that so loud that the woman that was putting her stuff on the counter in front of us turned to look.
I looked at her blankly, and she shivered, turning away just as quickly.
When Six suddenly stopped talking, I looked down at her.
“What?” I rumbled quietly.
“You just stared that woman down,” she whispered, again so loud that the woman heard.
“She needed to mind her own damn business,” I grumbled darkly.
Six widened her eyes at me, gesturing with her head toward the woman that was now standing so far away that the cashier had to reach over everything to get her card and put it into the credit card machine for her.
“It needs your signature,” the cashier informed the woman.
“Oh.” She hastily moved forward and signed her name, but not before looking at me like I was about to jump her.
I rolled my eyes.
The woman grabbed her purchases and took off as if I was going to assault her at any second, and Six was still glaring at me.
“What?” I asked. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You could control your face.” She gestured to her face with a sweep of her hand. “You look all serial killer there. Your face is blank, and your eyes are all squinty.”
I had no clue what she was talking about and wasn’t sure that I wanted to have a clue.
“Did y’all find everything you needed?” The cashier smiled.
“You mean, did we find everything that she didn’t need?” I shot back.
The cashier grinned at me, batting her eyes.
Six growled. “Yes, we did, thank you.”
Then she moved so that her body was pressed to mine.
I smoothed my hand up her hip and then around her belly, pulling her in closer.
“Your jealous is showing,” I said as I bent down and whispered into her ear.
She looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Shut up.”
She didn’t deny it, though. She knew exactly what I meant.
Her nails dug into my forearm, but she didn’t pull away from my embrace.
“That’ll be…” the cashier started once everything was added up.
She didn’t even try to reach for her wallet.
“Not even gonna try?” I teased as I pulled out my wallet from my front pocket.
“A, no. You kidnapped me again. B, I would pay for it, you know, if I had a wallet. You let them take my car again, though, meaning that they took my wallet with them,” she pointed out.
My lips twitched. “You knew that I was going to have to pay for all of this, and you still got this much?”
My amusement of her actions knew no bounds.
“That’s why I continued to add crap to the cart that I didn’t need,” she pointed out as I swiped my card.
The cashier handed me the receipt, and it was the longest one I’d ever been given.
“You might want to keep that,” she said. “You can add it on to my tab.”
“You’re going to pay me back for this shit?” I knew she wouldn’t but asking her wouldn’t hurt.
Not that I expected to be reimbursed. If there was one thing that I could say, I was financially stable. Well, very stable. Way more stable than anyone else in the surrounding area.
Spending a couple hundred bucks on random shit she found at a gas station was pocket change to me.
Now, if we were getting in the tens of thousands, that might be a different story.
She opened the bag of cookies before we’d even made it to the car and was sliding on a sheen of the bacon lip gloss before shoving half a cookie into her mouth.
“Does it really taste like bacon?” I asked curiously.
She puckered up her lips, which happened to have cookie crumbs stuck to the sticky lip gloss.
I didn’t even hesitate.
She wasn’t expecting the move, so when I pressed my lips down to hers, she gasped in surprise.
The Chapstick did, indeed, taste like bacon.
• • •
When we arrived at my home in Souls Chapel, it was much different than when she’d left it the last time.
Too bad Six didn’t notice because she was fast asleep.
Bruno opened the door for me and frowned. “What’s she doing here?”
He’d obviously seen us coming on the monitors with how fast he’d gotten the door.
“She’s staying the night,” I said. “And I’m having her car brought here.”
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked as he watched me walk toward the stairs.
“She likes candy, cookies and Coke. Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if she was in a diabetic coma at this point due to how much she ate,” I explained.
Bruno’s laugh followed us up the stairs, but instead of taking her to the bedroom she’d used last time, I led her to my bedroom and laid her down on the cool sheets.
She didn’t so much as stir.
Heading to the bathroom to take care of some pressing needs and clean myself off from our earlier love making—sometimes a baby wipe just didn’t cut it—I took my time.
When I came back out, I fully expected her to be up and waiting to head in there. Only she was still fast asleep and hadn’t moved a single inch from where she’d been earlier.
Shedding what was left of the clothes I’d left on after the party, I easily put away the shirt, jacket and pants before tossing the dirty shit into the basket meant for the washer.
I knew that it’d need more than I was giving it, but at least for tonight, I wouldn’t be worrying about whether stains—from nefarious things in the back of a car—would come out of my five-thousand-dollar suit pants.
After using the app on my phone to make sure the house was locked down tight—and knowing that Bruno would do the actual checking of the locks and windows—I crawled into bed beside the slumbering woman.
Just as I gathered her into my arms, my chin going to the top of her head as I thought how fuckin’ nice it was to hold someone, she stirred.
“I need to go home,” she mumbled, pressing even closer so that her lips were touching my chest.
“You need to stay right where you are,” I disagreed, moving my leg up and over to pin her to the bed.
“I need to go home,” she repeated. “You probably have things to do tomorrow.”
I did, actually.
“I have to meet with a few men tomorrow at the prison,” I told her. “But other than about an hour out of the day, I’m free and completely clear. That means that there’s no reason I can’t get this done in the morning, and you can just wait for me.”
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