Page 79 of Their Princess

This close, his tattoos were on full display. My breath hitched in my throat, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Instead, I reached out and touched his arm, tracing my fingers over his tattoos. Graff glanced down, his mouth dangling open. Didhe like me touching him as much I enjoyed my tentative exploration?

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started, but neither of us moved. I wanted to touch him more, or for him to touch me.

“Isn’t this cute?” asked a male voice, lilting with a Latino accent.

Graff jerked his arm back, but I didn’t understand who could make Graff act this way in a random place like this. It certainly wasn’t Sas. I didn’t recognize the voice, so I turned to look. Unfortunately, seeing him didn’t help me place him. Names were like faces in the MC—they all were the same. Well, most of them. I always recognized Sas and Graff. And, of course, I could pick out Rafe any day of the week.

Graff slid me behind him, shielding me with his body, and I peeked over his shoulder, something I could only do thanks to the four plus–inch platforms. Everything in my life now seemed to be MC related or cartel related, or both. This guy had to have it in for the MC based on how stoic Graff had suddenly become.

The man lowered his cell phone after taking a picture of us, and I tried not to flinch. Graff and I hadn’t been doing anything indecent... yet.

“What are you doing here, Rojas?” asked Graff.

“I feel like I should be asking that of you.” The Rojas brother—now I recognized him but couldn’t remember his name—peered at me. “And who is this pretty-in-pink princess?”

The guy moved to the side, apparently trying to get a better view. Graff had me though and rotated us to keep his body between me and the henchman from the cartel. I had had many guys stare at me with lust in their eyes, leering and basically salivating at the mouth. I had even counted on it in the past to achieve what I needed to, but something had changed. The small shift in me was now monumental.

Every muscle in Graff’s body was taut as he stood in front of me. “She’s none of your business.”

The Rojas brother smirked. “Don’t be that way, hombre.” He spread his hands. “Sharing is caring.”

“Not with you,” I said, and Graff shot me a look over his shoulder that said I should be quiet.

“That’s what you think now, but you’re one of the new puta.” He slipped his cell phone into his pocket. “I know how club bunnies all get passed around, like shipments. In warehouses. Money.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

I had heard what the Rojas brothers speaking about with Sas and the MC. I had basically thrown the thought of using my money at the situation. Maybe I should regret that now.

“What do you want, Cazador?” growled Graff.

“I’m taking in the art. Just like you, amigo.” But the Rojas brother’s eyes were only on me as his tongue darted out. “Enjoy the gardens. And her pussy.” Then he strode off, stomping through the rain.

Graff took a step out of our hiding spot, but I pulled him back. A fresh splattering of rain glistened on his skin. He stared at where the Rojas brother had gone, but I didn’t let him go any further.

“We should go back to the clubhouse,” said Graff.

I frowned. “It’s still raining.”

“You’re in an MC, Barbie. You better get used to riding in the rain.”

I groaned. I didn’t want to go, and it had nothing to do with the possibility of getting drenched. I had been having so much fun with this little game of Graff chasing me. I had new desires begging to be sated.

Graff held out his hand for me. “You’re already wet. Let’s go”

He had no flipping clue.

Reluctantly, I slapped my hand in his and followed him back to his bike. There was no sign of Rojas as we walked, which made having to leave so much worse. I climbed on the bike and in only a matter of seconds, Graff had the beast started and we were rolling out. The initial bite of wind made my blood run cold. But by the time we veered onto the highway, the sun parted the clouds and shone down on us. It dried my leathers and stopped my shivers.

Back at the clubhouse, only semi-dry from the rain, Graff left me to my bedroom. He would barely look at me now, even as he asked if he could have something brought to me.

I shook my head and hugged myself around the middle, preparing to be alone. Again.

“Hang up the leathers. I’ll send in some honey.”

“Honey?”

“Leather conditioner. You should’ve done that before you wore it.” He grinned as he looked my fit up and down and stroked his chin.

“What?” I asked.

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