Page 35 of Devil to Pay: Cutter

“It’s a lot of bands, actually. And there’ll be booths for artisans.”

“Booths for artisans? Like a festival?”

“Yes. Exactly like a festival.”

“Where is it?”

“Close. Outside of Lexington.”

“No.”

“What?” I ask. “Why?”

“That’s like two hours away. It’s not safe.”

“What’s not safe? I’ll be with Dusty.” And speak of the devil. She’s right on top, no–probably more like on the bottom of things. Cutter’s phone lights up with a text from Reaper. I see the name and inwardly squee.

“What’s he got to say?” I ask innocently.

“He says that Dusty wants to go to the festival and she wants you with her.”

“And?”

“And he’s going. He thinks I should go along with him. We can keep you both safe and hang out, listen to some music, and that you’ll probably let me fuck your ass if I let you go.”

My mouth falls open and I sputter, “W-What?”

“He knows Dusty’s tricks. When she wants something she lets him take her ass. She only gives it up for holidays or when she wants something she doesn’t know if he’ll agree to. She thinks she’s being so sneaky.” He chuckles under his breath, like he’s thinking of some inside joke.

“What’s funny?”

“Reap’s so into her, he’d sayyeswithout taking her ass, but she’s offering, so he’s not turning it down.”

“That’s awful,” I reply and yes, I do it laughing, too. I’m unsure if I should say something to her or wait and see how long it takes for her to figure out on her own. There’s a girl code, but I’m not totally sure of all the rules.

My mind continues to wander, contemplating all the ways my life has changed for the better in such a short time. Well, until he asks, “So what about you, baby?” He squeezes my ass cheek. “Gonna let me hit that?”

Cue the need to vomit as I swallow hard, dropping my gaze to his huge shaft that looks to be hardening again from all this talk of ass play. “Yes?”

“My dick really terrifies you, doesn’t it?”

Absolutely. “Yes.”

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea, but I’ll have Reaper there with me and he’s a tough bastard. A good brother to call on in a pinch.”

“Does this mean we’re going?” I ask with so much hope in my voice.

“Why not—oh, and no rush with the ass play. I won’t lie, I want to hit that something fierce, but I want you to be ready.”

He wants me to be ready? I don’t know what to do with a man who respects me like that and I feel foolish when the tears roll down my cheeks.

“Whoa,” he says. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“No. You dideverything.” Then, because I can’t hold back a second longer, I launch myself at him, peppering his face with kisses.

“Baby,” is how he replies and that says it all.

There really are therightbikers.

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