“I don’t even know if I want to go to prom,” I moan as she drags me into a floofy bridal boutique. “Why are we here?”
“You want a nice dress, not some cheap, flimsy thing.”
“Why? I’m only wearing it once.”
She gives me a look like she’s thinking of choking me. “Here,” she says, thrusting a hideous blue and nude lace monstrosity of a dress at me. “This is totally your color.”
“That looks like some sort of pageant dress. No fucking way,” I whisper loud enough that the sales girl glares at me. Oops.
We finally settle on a sleeveless, sky-blue lacy dress. The skirt reaches my knees and is the only dress in the store with a high enough neckline to keep my tits covered.
“So much material for a biker girl,” Athena teases me as I model it for her. “Is Dante taking you?”
I can’t help laughing. “No way. Why would he go to a high school prom?”
“Uh, ‘cause he’s your boyfriend?”
Boyfriend. “There’s nothing ‘boy’ about him.”
She lets out an exasperated snort. “Whatever.” Her eyes sparkle with amusement.
Luck’s dressed in traditional bad guy black and waiting for me outside when I pull up to the clubhouse. We don’t bother wearing our cuts. This matter’s personal.
He drives, while I rifle through my duffel bag of interrogation toys. My fists are lethal enough, but I enjoy the visuals.
Luck’s intel was good. The VP’s car sits in the driveway. No other neighbors in sight. Even so, we park away from the house and stay away from the road.
I don’t bother with pleasantries like knocking. After circling the house, we determine Hackett is alone and in the kitchen. The explosion of glass shattering around the back door gets his attention; but he’s so stunned, so unused to anything interrupting his perfect life, he just stands there gaping at us as we burst in the house.
I didn’t bother covering my face. He’s gonna know in two seconds why I’m here and who I am.
I point to one of the dining room chairs. “Sit.”
“What do you want? I can give you money.”
These fucks always think it’s about money.
“Sit the fuck down.”
He sits. Luck binds him to the chair and I crouch down in his face.
“You and I have some business to discuss, Daniel.”
“Who are you?”
My fist connects with his jaw, snapping his head back. I barely feel it, but he acts like I put a bullet through his knee.
“Shut the fuck up. Who called you about Karina Rivers?”
He spits out blood and shakes his head. “What? This is about a student?”
For a smart guy, this fucker’s pretty dense. Another pop motivates him to stop dicking around.
“I don’t know! It was a man. We didn’t speak long.”
“You get a number from him?”
“No. Like I said, we didn’t speak for very long.”
“Enough that you upset my girl and said some nasty shit to her.”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head.
“Don’t bother fuckin’ lying.”
“I wasn’t aware of what she’s been up to.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“The man said she was whoring herself out to the Iron Bulls. Is that where you’re from?” he asks.
Luck must be feeling left out. He smacks Hackett on the back of the head. “Don’t worry about us.”
At least that poor moral character comment makes more sense. Maybe I won’t kill him after all. “Karina’s no fuckin’ whore. She’s my girl. She ain’t under age, so you threatening her with calling children’s services in was bullshit.”
“The caller said—”
“I don’t want to fuckin’ hear it. You could have easily looked that shit up. Don’t ever threaten her again.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Shut up. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna stay the fuck away from her.” Asshole’s nodding before I even get the first condition out. “You’re calling me immediately if you hear from this prick again. And you’re gonna find out his name and get me a number.”
He shakes his head and I grip his hair in my hand and yank his head up. “Finally, and most importantly, if my girl has the grades she speaks at that graduation. And you’ll write her a glowin’ fuckin’ recommendation to any college she applies to.”
“Yes, of course.” He focuses on his lap, as if he hasn’t been staring at my face for the last half hour. “You’re not going to kill me?”
“Not tonight.”
CHAPTER TEN
“What a fuckin’ pussy.” Luck’s shaking with laughter while we drive away from Hackett’s house. I explained in detail what would happen if he ran his mouth. We left him tied to the chair, but he should be able to work himself free in an hour or two.
“You gonna tell Karina she doesn’t have to worry?”
“Nope. No reason to bring her into any of this. Less she knows the better.”
He nods, but doesn’t seem to agree with me. Doesn’t matter. “I need another favor, brother.”
“Okay.”
“Gotta do that Santa Fe run Thursday. I’m still not comfortable leaving Karina alone with that fuck still out there.”
He glances at me and in a wary tone asks, “And?”
“Can you stay at the cabin and watch her for me?”
“You want me to babysit your girlfriend? Why not just have her stay at the clubhouse?”
“Seriously? Come on, you’re the only one I trust.”
“Yeah, okay. Isn’t she gonna think it’s weird?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
We part ways at the clubhouse. Do I feel bad asking him to do something I should really ask the prospects to do? Not really. I barely trust them to watch my bike. I sure as fuck ain’t gonna trust them with something as precious as my girl.
The house is dark when I pull up and a lick of concern brushes me. Pulling out my phone, I see Karina’s sent me a few texts. The last one is the best.
On my way home.
She walks in a few minutes after me, with a big garment bag trailing over her arm.
“I’m so sorry, Dante, were you here long? I tried to text you a bunch—”
I gotta cut off her breathless rush. “Calm down, baby girl. It’s fine. You two have fun?”
She relaxes, and it bothers me that she’s—what? Scared I’d be mad at her? Her eyes roll and she sets her bags down on the end of the couch. “No. She made me go dress shopping.”
I can’t help laughing. Thought girls loved that shit. “Got a prom dress?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I see it?”
“You want—?”
“Yeah, I want. Show me.”
The simple rustling of the plastic dress bag gets me hard. “Show me, baby girl,” I say again in a lower voice.
She turns, a question on her lips, but when she takes me in, she gets it.
She moves to go upstairs.
Okay, maybe she didn’t get it.
“No. Clothes off. Right where you are.”
“Oh,” she breathes out, so soft I almost don’t hear it.
Slowly, she works her shirt over her head. She’s too flustered to be sexy about it, and that makes it even hotter.
“Clothes off right where you are.”
When Dante growls out those words, my belly drops. My mouth’s so dry. I can’t force any words out. Good thing my hands are ahead of me. Even as my legs tremble, I’m working my shirt up over my head and sliding my shorts down my legs.
“Nice,” he encourages.
With my eyes still on his, I reach behind me, hook my fingers into the garment bag, and work the dress loose.
“Get shoes too?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Put ‘em on.”
This time I have to turn and I put a lot of effort into bending over the end of the couch and slipping int
o the shoes. Behind me, Dante chuckles softly. “You’re sexy as fuck, babe. No extra wiggling required.”
Biting my lip, I shimmy into the dress and turn. A soft gasp escapes me. Dante’s almost right in my space. He’s so big I don’t expect him to move so silently.
But there he is.
“Fuckin’ beautiful, baby girl.”
Heat stings my cheeks. His hand reaches out and he traces the high neckline with one finger. “Are you excited?”
I don’t think he’s asking about the dance. “Yes.”
“Turn around.” Oh, God, the things his low, rough voice does to me.
My body shakes as I turn and position myself over the end of the couch. Ass up, legs wide. It’s automatic and I’m filled with pride at the way he sucks air in and slowly lets it out behind me. “You know just what I want.”
“I try.”
“Well, you’re damn good at it.”
A light breeze grazes my legs as he flips the dress up. Thick, rough fingers hook into my panties and drag them down my legs, the soft cotton brushing against my already sensitive skin. He leaves them at my knees and grabs my hips, runs his hands over my ass, up and down my back. Patiently, I wait while he decides what he wants to do to me. His hands drift lower, then one thrusts between my legs, rough, yet somehow gentle.
I gasp and push back against him. Two fingers thrust up, tight and hard. A soft cry of shock and need leaves me.
“Drenched. You want to come on my fingers, baby girl?”
“If you want me to.”
I get a soft pop on my ass. “I asked what you want.”
A strangled cry tears out of my throat. “That is what I want.” He keeps working his fingers faster, harder until I’m whimpering. “Make me come, daddy.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Stay still.”
His hands leave me for a second, and I keep myself still. His hands grip my hips again, and he drives into me, savage and hard. My body burns in all the places where our skin touches.
“Don’t come yet, baby girl,” he warns.
Okay. His hands slide up, yanking the zipper down. He pulls me up long enough to work the dress off and toss it on the couch, then he’s back to thrusting and teasing me.
“Tell me when you’re close.”
Close. I’m dancing right on the edge. “I’m close,” I whimper.
He slows and rubs his hand in big circles over my back. “My girl’s bein’ so good.”
Even though he’s moving at a lazy pace, I’m still close. “Daddy.” This time I whisper it as a warning. His hands slide under me, tugging and pinching my nipples. “Please,” I beg as he keeps grinding into me.
“Fuck, I can’t say no to my baby girl,” he whispers against my neck.
Still, I wait. He didn’t exactly say yes.
His hands tighten around my waist, and he pounds into me recklessly. “Okay, baby. Give it to me.”
Two more strokes and I come. Then I lose track of how many times as each ripple of pleasure rises to a wave crashing into me, knocking the breath out of my lungs.
With one final, violent thrust, he comes. Hands still holding me, his thrusts slow to lazy sliding. Then he’s covering me with his body, pressing me into the couch. His lips trail over my shoulder, burning a path to my neck and finally my cheek. My eyes drift open. One of Dante’s hands rests next to me on the cushion. I let out a soft cry when I spot the torn skin on his knuckles. “Dante, are you okay?”
He shifts, taking his weight off me. “Yeah. Am I crushing you?”
“No.” I run my fingers lightly over his hand. “You’re hurt.”
Behind me he stands, and pulls me up. “It’s nothin’. But it’s sweet the way you’re worried about a few scrapes.”
I’m not sure why, but I’m overcome with a cloud of anxiety and…something else. Turning, I throw my arms around his neck, clinging to him. “I couldn’t stand it, if something happened to you,” I whisper.
He hesitates, and then hugs me just as tight. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby girl.”
We leave everything downstairs. After cleaning me up, he tucks us into bed. My head’s resting on his chest when I ask, “Did you have a good night?”
He seems surprised. “Yeah, baby girl. Much better once you got home.”
That makes me happy.
“Athena was surprised you’re not taking me to prom,” I blurt out. Why did I say that?
He’s silent. “That wouldn’t be a good idea,” he finally says.
No, it probably wouldn’t.
His arm squeezes me tighter to him. “I gotta go out of town Thursday. I might be back real late or not ‘til Friday night. Not sure yet.”
“Okay.”
“Luck’s gonna stay here and make sure you’re protected.”
I’m not sure how I feel about that. “Dante, I’m a little old for a baby sitter.”
He chuckles softly. “Yeah. I know. Don’t want you alone with Hemi still out there on the loose.”
Huh. Well, at least now I know the club hasn’t found and killed Logan.
“Okay.”
His lips press against my forehead. “Good girl.”
“Prom’s Friday night. We get out at noon. I was going to get ready over at Athena’s.”
“Hmm…Wanted to see you before you left.”
“You just saw me in my dress,” I tease.
“And out of it.”
We cuddle and joke around like that for a few minutes. Then Dante’s hand smacks my ass. “Get some sleep. Got school tomorrow.”
And I do as I’m told.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
There’s a strange energy at school the next day. At first, I chalk it up to prom fever. Everyone’s nervous and excited about the big night. A strange indifference surrounds me, but I’m not bothered by it. I’ve felt out of place among my classmates my entire life. Why should prom be any different? This disconnect between my classmates’ concerns and mine has only grown over the years. Their fears and worries seem more childish than ever.
It used to be I couldn’t wait to get out of this small town I’ve hated my entire life as soon as I graduated. I wanted to disappear in the middle of the night. See how long it took before my father or anyone else even knew I was missing. Now I’m torn. I don’t know if I can be away from Dante for so long.
I also want to have a way to support myself. I love how he takes care of me, but it’s frightening to think of being completely dependent on him. I’ve thought a lot about how he said time moves fast. And he’s right. It seems like yesterday Athena and I came into this building as timid freshman.
Now we’re bored seniors who can’t wait to get the fuck out.
“Are you listening to me?” Athena asks, poking me with her plastic spork.
I brush whatever the hell she was eating off my shirt. “Ew, don’t touch me with that thing.”
“You want me to pick you up Friday morning, so we’re not driving two cars?”
“Uh, sure. You don’t mind driving all the way up there in the morning?”
“Nope.”
I wonder what she’ll think, if Luck’s still at the house. I’ll worry about it later.
“Okay. Then I can leave my dress in your car.”
As we’re leaving the cafeteria, the chatter around us increases in volume. “What’s going on?” I yell into Athena’s ear.
She shrugs. We duck around a group of jocks taking up way too much space and I almost smack right into Mr. Hackett. The gasp that shoots out of me draws his attention. We just stare at each other for a few seconds before he turns away.
“Wow,” Athena whispers in my ear. “I heard someone say he got mugged or something last night.”
Or something.
Something like Dante’s fists.
Holy shit.
Did he really go beat Mr. Hackett up for what he said to me? The thought’s terrifying. What if it makes Hackett come after me worse? What if Dante gets arrested and taken away from me?
<
br /> I can barely concentrate on my schoolwork the rest of the day. As soon as classes are over, I ask Athena to drop me off at the clubhouse.
“I thought we were going shopping?” she whines.
“Please, it’s important.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
She doesn’t drive away when I get out, but I’m so focused on getting past one of the prospects, I can’t worry about it.
“I’m Dante’s girl,” I tell him again.
“Don’t matter. I’m not supposed to let anyone in.”
“I don’t think it applies to me.”
I don’t recognize this one. He runs his gaze over my body in a creepy way and shrugs. “Club girls are allowed in after three.”
“I’m not a club girl,” I spit out through gritted teeth. “Dante’s your SAA, he’s gonna be pissed if you don’t let me in.”
“Who the fuck you think told me not to let anyone in, bitch?”
That’s it. Is Dante with another girl? Is that what this kid’s trying to keep me from? Or is he really just that dumb? Either way, I whip out my phone and send Dante a text. Couple seconds later, Dante storms out and throws the kid against the wall.
“My woman tells you to let her in, you Let. Her. In.”
Shit, I didn’t even tell Dante the kid called me a bitch.
“Fuck, I didn’t know! You said no one gets in—”
Dante cuts him off—by cutting off his air supply. His fingers wrap tighter around the kid’s throat. “Now you know.”
He lets the kid go and holds his hand out to me. “What’re you doing here, baby girl?”
I glance over at the prospect who’s doubled over gasping for breath. I feel a little bad about it, but not much. I tried to warn him.
Taking my hand, Dante leads me inside. “I needed to talk to you.”
One corner of his mouth twists up. “Yeah, you needed to see me that bad?”
My cheeks heat up at the way he’s staring at me. But I can’t let myself get distracted by his sexy smile, rough voice, or lust-crazed eyes. There’re people in the room, but they’ve all got Iron Bulls MC cuts on. Still, I lower my voice. “Did you beat up Mr. Hackett?”
Poof. Lust-crazed eyes and sexy smile disappear. “He bother you?” Dante’s tugging me through the clubhouse so fast I can’t answer.
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