Page 48 of Daddy Issues

“Nope.” I jerked him up by the back of his shirt, shoved him forward, and kept him moving all the way to the lot. AP did the same with the chubby guy. Both of their faces were swollen, but they were alive.

Cam turned back to them. “Usually, you’d be two dead mother fuckers right about now.”

He stopped and lit a cigarette as Merc dumped what smelled like kerosene all in the back of the truck and inside it.

“Thing is, you ain’t the ones I really want. You’re just the dipshits dumb enough to wear the cuts.” He took a big drag before tossing the cigarette into the bed of the truck. It erupted into fire that burned hot and fast. He watched it for a minute as one guy fell mewling to the ground and the other one swayed, half-conscious on his feet.

“Tell whoever’s idea it was to come for us…” He grinned, wicked and scary. “To come find me next time.”

***

Kenna and Whitney both hovered outside the front door of Miller's, watching the truck burn. In the distance, fire truck sirens were wailing.

“This,” I gestured between the two of them. “Is a bad idea.”

Whitney smiled, big and bright with a look that gave zero shits. “Oh, but I think it is.”

“I think it looks like the god-damn night of my dreams.” Jester crooned, sidling up to us and winking at the girls.

When Whitney turned to Kenna, she only ducked her head and blushed. Jealousy clawed its way up the back of my throat, hot and angry. I didn’t want JesterorWhitney anywhere near Kenna. Ridiculous, considering I had no right. Hadn’t I just shared her?

But now it was different. She was different.

Why?

I didn’t know, but I still gestured her to the back of my bike. “Come back to the clubhouse.”

She didn’t need to, she’d done what she’d come here to do. This shit was mostly over until we found out who’d orchestrated Chop’s ass kicking. I glanced across the street, where he was relentlessly punching one guy.

“Should you do something about that?” Whitney flinched.

Kenna, however, ignored it. This wasn’t her first time seeing the violent side of the club. Probably wouldn’t be her last.

Not if you make her your ole lady.

I hadn’t even been inside her yet and shit like that was popping into my head. I shut it down, quick.

“Want me to?”

Fuck me. I pulled the shirt she’d returned to me from my saddle bag and held it out. She slipped her arms in and rolled the sleeves up to her wrists as I buttoned it. The tips of my fingers brushed against bare skin at the valley of her throat and my cockhalf sprang to life when gooseflesh rippled across her skin from the touch.

Jesus.

“Hop on.” The words rolled out of my lips before I had time to stop myself. Because I wanted her on the back of my bike in those boots, in that cute little dress. I watched her climb on from my mirror, tucking the tiny dress between her thighs. It made me think of another time she’d had her fingers between her thighs…when I’d had mine there.

Remembering where I was and who was there, I turned back to Whitney. She was glancing at a car pulling in. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m heading out of here. See you this weekend?” She was babysitting Eli for me.

“Yup. Be safe.” I glanced at Jester. “Make sure she gets out of here okay.”

He nodded but was giving me awe’ll talk laterlook. He knew me too well and probably had a good idea what I was feeling for Kenna.

Which meant I was about to have to deal with it, with him. And with Kenna. She deserved at least my honesty on all of it. Even if I had no idea what the fuck that was going to be.

I tore out of the parking lot, caught somewhere between irritation and adrenaline laced exhilaration. Then she scooted closer, without a helmet, pressed her face against my back and clung to me. It felt too good, too right.

I was feeling things I didn’t deserve to feel, things I couldn’t afford, about a woman who deserved so much better than me and my bullshit.

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