by Bijou Hunter
Even without glancing at JJ, I feel the fucker looking at me. “He’s in for a rude awakening if he thinks he can steal what’s ours.”
“Are you sure because he’s looking like a hardass with his own crew while you’re looking like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum over your new bitch.”
“Don’t call Daisy that or I’ll break your head open next, Dayton.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
“You think taking JJ’s shit would make me look like a better man? Are you fucking dense?”
Dayton backs off and shrugs. “I’m thinking about the big picture rather than this fucking second with these people. I’m thinking about what JJ is doing here now and what he has planned. You need to do the same, or you might not be our next president. Get it, pussy slave?”
“If need be, I’ll finish JJ before he starts trouble for us.”
“He might be thinking that about you.”
Frowning darkly, I want to glance at JJ and size him up. He’s likely still watching me, and I don’t want the jackass knowing he’s the topic of our conversation.
Dayton gives me another indifferent shrug. “I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy watching you brain that fucker, but you gotta know how to pace yourself.”
“I like when you pretend to be the smart brother.”
Dayton shares my smile. “I might not be the serious one, but I have my big brass balls still firmly under my control. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn Daisy’s cats are chasing them around her place.”
“Do you think Daisy would freak out if I punched you in the face?”
“Oh, yeah, and we don’t want her freaking out.”
“No, we probably don’t,” I say, patting him hard on the shoulder.
Dayton smiles and pats me just as roughly on the cheek. We eye one another, and I sense a wrestling match coming. Before I can tackle my brother, Daisy appears at my side.
“I’m not hungry for chili,” she says in an oddly sing-song voice. “Can we pick up something else on the way to my place?”
Dayton grins and steps away from me. “She’s savvy with the hints.”
“We’ll talk later,” I promise him.
“Oh, no doubt about that.”
Once Dayton is out of reach, I look at Daisy. Her hazel eyes watch me as if not truly seeing me. She isn’t dazed, just faking a helluva calm demeanor.
“We’ll leave.”
Though Daisy smiles, there’s nothing warm about her expression. My girl is about to freak the fuck out, and I doubt a night of tasting my tongue will be enough to improve her mood. While I don’t regret beating down the out-of-town fucker, I’ll pay a price for my temper. I sense the one doling out the punishment will be this tiny, pissed woman who owns my heart.
Twenty One - Daisy
All of those stupid dreams in my head come in handy when I watch Camden nearly kill a man. Over the years, I’ve pretended to be so many different people. Now I play the cool chick completely unfazed by psycho violence. I’m chill, baby.
Except I’m not chill. I’m freaking out, and I don’t know how long I can keep up the lie. Around me, the club’s old ladies joke about how their men are so rowdy. They’re pretending too. Better at the lies, they don’t struggle with tears. Their hands don’t shake so badly they need to shove them into their pockets. These women are aces at playing cool, and I do my best to keep up with their bullshit.
“Be cool,” I mentally chant while they talk around me. “Be cool,” I beg myself when I see the men drag the bloody guy outside. “Be cool,” I still say in my head as Camden walks with me to the parking lot nearly a half hour later.
I finally stop playing cool when he cups my face with bloodied hands. Camden smiles as if this is any other day, and we’re just any other people.
“What in the heck was that?” I growl, struggling with my temper and failing the battle. “You… I just don’t even know what that was.”
Camden gives me a frown as if I’m the one with the issues. “I thought it was pretty obvious. He made a move on you, and I made a move on him. That’s how life works, babe.”
“Don’t ‘babe’ me. You nearly killed him.”
“A guy in his line of work needs to learn how to walk off that shit.”
Horrified, I remind him, “You’re in that line of work too. Should I expect someone to pound your face into a bar top like that?”
“They can try,” Camden says with an arrogant smirk.
“Your male bravado doesn’t impress me. I know you think it’s sexy or cool or what the fuck ever, but you sound like a pissy child. You should know I’m not a thing you need to defend.”
Camden glances around before taking me by the arm and maneuvering me away from the bar.
“What do you think happened in there because I don't think you get it?”
Based on his expression, I wonder if I really am the screwed up one. “Tell me.”
“I plan to lead this club. Do you think I can have some fucking loser show up at my family’s bar and make eyes at my girl? What does that say about me if I just shrug it off? I’ll tell you,” he says and then lowers his voice. “It says I’m weak. It says I won’t fight if someone tries to take my shit. This isn’t about you, Daisy. This is about me preventing assholes from starting trouble. I make an example of that one guy and save myself from having to fight a dozen guys. Hell, I might have saved myself from fighting a fucking hundred. That’s how Mojo and Howler gained power. They made a big show and scared off the pretenders. That’s what I need to do now. This isn’t about looking tough for you or showing off or whatever bullshit you have in your beautiful head."
“Oh,” is all I can think to say.
Camden’s angry expression fades. His hands cup my face again, and I still can’t shake off how they turned violent so recently.
“If I take a stand now in a big way, I don’t have to do it every day.”
Feeling weak in this world of warrior-types, I just want to go home to my little trailer, cats, and life.
“I thought you were pissed because he was talking to me. I didn’t want you freaking out on my account, but I never thought about it like you mean. People respond to fear and authority. I get it.”
Camden’s dark eyes study my face. “Do you really or are you just saying that because I got angry with you?”
“Both.”
“What happened in there was fucked up and I didn’t want shit to go down like that. I figured you’d meet my friends, and they’d see how great you are, and you’d see how the club life wasn’t so scary. That all went the fuck out of the window, and I’m worried you’re going to bolt.”
Sighing unsteadily, I try to calm my nerves. “I’m sorry I thought you were freaking out over me. You’ve been weird about guys and interfering with my other dates and I guess I assumed you were playing the possessive dick. The club stuff makes sense. It’s smart for the long term, and I want you to be smart because I want you to be safe.”
Camden nods but says nothing. I study him for a long time while people walk past us. Something about Camden’s behavior feels off, and I narrow my eyes.
“Did you attack him because you were feeling possessive? No bullshit.”
“I answered that.”
“Answer it again and look me in the eyes when you say the words.” I widen my eyes and stare hardcore at him. “Say the words and don’t lie.”
Camden leans down and stares into my eyes. “You are mine. The club is mine. That guy isn’t mine. I did what I had to.”
“You’re not going to freak out if some guy at the movie theater or the grocery story says hello to me, right?”
“Of course, I won’t freak out,” Camden says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Will I tell this hypothetical piece of shit to mind his fucking business and stay away from my woman? Fucking A, I will, but there will be no freaking out.”
“Later when I’m home alone, I’m planning to cry into my pillow about how scared I was in t
here. Until then, I’m keeping my shit undercover. Did I do good?”
“So good,” he says, softly kissing me.
“I wanted to run when you grabbed him.”
“I know, but you didn’t.”
“You were calm, and then you were…”
Camden waits for me to finish, but I can’t. I don’t know what word fits what I saw in him when he attacked the guy. Ferocious. Unhinged. Terrifying. None of those words feel accurate when thinking about a man I know is capable of such tenderness and humor. Camden isn’t a monster or a thug. He’s more, better, perfect, but he also trashed another human being in less than a minute.
“I want to go home,” I say, feeling exhausted. “Is that okay?”
“Are you running away?”
“If I were, I’d knock you down, steal your keys, drive Shasta to my place, and lock the door on you. Instead, I’m kindly asking for you to take me home.”
Camden leans down and kisses my cheek. “I’d like to see you knock me down. I bet you’re sneaky in a fight.”
“No, I’m very fair and high-minded. I’d never scratch your eyes out or bite.”
Camden smiles, but I see him intensely studying me. He wants reassurance. I want it too. Neither of us will get any tonight. Camden drives me home where he parks and follows me to the trailer.
“Bye,” I say, stretching up to kiss him.
Camden gives me his “man knows best” expression. “No, ‘bye.’ I’m staying the night.”
“Why?”
“I’m too emotional to drive home. Wouldn’t be safe.”
I place my hands on his hard chest and push. “I think I’m starting my period. You should go.”
“I’ll rub your tummy.”
“I have gas.”
Camden only smiles. “After chili, gas is gonna happen. Let’s go inside and watch TV and fart.”
“I want to be alone,” I mutter, exasperated by how he always gets his way.
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m your man, and I don’t want to be alone tonight. You have to baby me.”
“Is that right?” I ask, grinning despite my irritation. “What if I say no?”
“I’ll sit out here and howl at the moon.”
“There are a few howling cats that’ll keep you company.”
“Should I beg?” he asks, pressing a hand against my door so I can’t open it.
“Don’t.”
“Why are you acting icy with me?”
Unable to believe this is a question, I only say, “I’m in a bad mood.”
“So?”
“So I want to be alone.”
“And I don’t want to be alone. Why should you win?”
“Why should you win?”
“Because I’d let you win if you were sad and needed to cuddle.”
“This is bullshit,” I complain. “How can I say no when you act pathetic?”
“You can’t,” Camden says, kissing the top of my head while taking my keys to unlock the trailer’s front door. “I promise not to gloat.”
Camden walks into my place, and I can only follow him. He kicks off his boots and walks to my bathroom. I hear him washing up and figure he’s getting rid of the guy’s blood from his hands.
Remaining in the kitchen, I think of how quickly Camden went from easy-going to ruthless. I know I should fear him, but I’m mostly afraid for him. His life is frigging scary.
“You’re tense,” Camden says, stretching out on my too small couch. “Let me massage your shoulders and breasts. I bet your inner thighs need attention too.”
“No.”
Camden turns on the TV, flips around, and stops on a King of the Hill rerun. “Want to laugh at Texan cartoon people?”
“No.”
“Want me to go down on you?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Maybe,” I mumble, unsure if there’s ever a reason to turn down something that feels so good.
Camden grins and pats the couch. “Come here.”
“No.”
“You like that word.”
“It makes me feel powerful.”
“When you suck on my tongue, you’re a dominant warrior princess. Now come over here and embrace your power.”
I walk to the couch and straddle him, but my lips don’t find his. I rest my head against his shoulder and grip his shirt.
“Don’t talk.”
Camden wraps his arms around me and we remain that way through the rest of the episode and into a new one. I finally kiss him and embrace my warrior princess power. He rewards me with a little downtown action.
We don’t talk about our time at Salty Peanuts except later when he rips one loud enough to startle the cats out of the bedroom. Laughing, I pretend like the old ladies pretend when reality becomes too ugly to face.
Twenty Two - Camden
For the first time since I set my sights on Daisy, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. I’m taken aback by her terrified expression in the parking lot. Daisy looks at me as if I’m a psycho, and she needs to make a run for safety.
Hours after I beat down what’s his face, she remains tense and even wants me to sleep at my place for the night. I refuse, of course. Daisy is mine, and I won’t let a little thing like her fear get in our way.
We climb into bed around eleven, and Daisy pretends to sleep. I rest next to her, listening to the trailer park noises. My condo is so quiet, and I can’t relax with the racket here. At least, not without a good vigorous fuck first.
“I’m lonely,” I murmur, tugging at her nightgown.
“Is that code for horny?”
“It’s code for I want you naked riding my cock.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“I could help you get in the mood.”
“Nope. I’m happy the way I am.”
I rethink going down on her without moving things into the fucking realm. Now she’s satisfied while I’m stuck with a raging hard-on.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask, poking her with my erection.
“You have two hands. Have at it.”
Grinning in the dark, I lean back on the bed and squirm out of my boxers. This proves to be a tricky feat considering how small everything is in the trailer. I nearly kick a cat at one point, and I’m fairly sure I bump Daisy with my ass during another moment. She says nothing, and I realize she isn’t playing the silent treatment. She’s fully entrenched in it.
I spit in my palm and fist my disappointed cock. Stroking it, I watch Daisy and imagine her hand stroking me.
Slowly massaging my cock, I murmur, “So beautiful. Yes, Daisy, don’t stop.”
Really?” she grumbles, turning over to frown at me. “I said no.”
“Shh, I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Stop talking while you do that.”
“Hush, or I’ll give you the play-by-play in my head of you sucking me off.”
Daisy glares at me. While I can’t see her full fury in the dark room, I sure the fuck can feel it.
“You’re an asshole,” she says, sitting up and pulling off your nightgown.
“What are you doing? I don’t need any pity fucks,” I ask, fighting laughter.
“Shut up,” she says in a weird voice, and I realize she’s trying not to laugh too. “First, you turn me on. Now you want to play hard to get? No way, buddy.”
“Well okay,” I say, resting my arms behind my head and watching her climb over me. “I don’t want to be a tease.”
“Asshole.”
“What? I can’t hear you over my cock’s applause.”
Daisy leans forward and kisses me. I sense none of her irritation. Once her fingers wrap around my cock and slide it along the folds of her pussy, I don’t sense a fucking thing outside of pleasure.
My fingers travel up the soft skin on her arms before dipping down to where her breasts crave my touch. Pinching the nipples between my knuckles, I cup her mounds of flesh.
“Daisy,
don’t be angry,” I whisper as she strokes my cock with her pussy. “A man needs to protect what’s his or else people will take it away. I can’t lose you again.”
Even in the dark, I see the change in Daisy’s expression. She needs to be angry because the violence scared her. I know how much rage can soothe less helpful feelings like fear and loss. My words touch her, and I know she understands me a little bit better tonight than she did the day before.
A smile crosses her face, and she presses the head of my cock inside her. Despite the thorough fucking I gave Daisy the night before, she still needs to wiggle and work to take my size. I watch her but don’t help. Her confidence in bed can’t come from me controlling her like a master and his doll. She needs to know what she wants and learn to take it.
The next morning, I wake up with a cat sleeping between my legs and one perched on Daisy’s head. I frown at the latter cat staring at me with the indifferent gaze of an alpha. I admire his arrogance but still swat him off her.
Daisy opens her eyes and stares at me. She’s clearly been awake for a while, meaning the cat on her head was a conscious choice.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“I’ve decided to pretend I find your brutality last night as a turn on.”
“Smart cookie.”
“Is there anything you’ll ever change for me?”
“I’ve already changed plenty. Like the cats climbing on me all night would have been a no-go for any other chick. I also slept over, and I don’t like sleeping at other people’s places.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope. Wait, I’m chasing you, and I’d never do that for another woman.”
Daisy studies me before nodding and sitting up in bed. “I’m choosing to believe we’re on equal footing.”
When she gets up, I follow after her, but she hides in the bathroom before I get a kiss. “Equal footing is overrated,” I say through the door.
“Probably. I’m rarely in charge, but I still don’t like feeling as if I don’t have a choice.”
The toilet flushes, and I hear the water running. She brushes her teeth and washes face before opening the door and smiling at me.
