Page 9 of Vicious Punks
“How are your knees, little bitch? Still sore? I bet that garage floor was cold,” Dalton drawls out in that deep voice of his in a rumble as I turn towards him.
He pushes off the wall from his lounging position, coming towards me on the silent feet of a predator. Why are they so freaking quiet when they move around? Graceful almost, but deadly. I hate the way their shoulders shift and muscles ripple under their clothes each time they move, just to prove how strong they are, and stupid me can’t stop staring. I hate the natural way they swagger with confidence because it’s kind of sexy and I don’t want to be attracted to that. Makes me want to grab the nearest object and beat them with it until they are limping instead.
“You know, when someone feels really cold, it means they are just at the brink of death. Just before your soul leaves your body, that's when you finally become warm. Should we test that on you?” I feel a small ounce of victory when Dalton stumbles over his own feet and nearly trips over Tey who is cracking up on the floor.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you. Whenever you're ready to start popping out my kids, sweetheart, just give me the go ahead.” Tey winks at me, chuckling as he stands and stretches like a cat from a long nap.
“Unbelievable,” I whisper under my breath and glance back at Nicky, ready to ask him the one question I’m dreading.
It makes it hard to swallow because it feels like a golf ball is stuck in my throat.
“Rig. You found nothing on him in the last two years? No trace of his whereabouts?” I stare up at Nicky with a hopeful expression, maybe give me answers I’ve been longing for and to give me a reason to dream again.
“Why would I tell you anything? Maybe if you start telling the truth of why you're here, I might just give you that information. Seems like he’s someone important to you. Are you his old lady?” Nicky tilts his head to the side and strokes his chin just before his facial expression evens out into a blank mask. “Thank you for giving me that. Another piece to dangle over your head if you step out of line,” he whispers, his voice menacing and gravelly.
My heart drops down to my feet in devastation. I shouldn’t have expected anything less of him. I shove myself away from him only to collide with Dalton who wraps his arms around me from behind, tightly, like you would with a teddy bear.
“She’s no one's old lady!” Dalton growls at Nicky and bends his head down to place his cheek against mine, his whispered words vibrating along my skin. “Little bitch, you can ride me- I mean on the back of my bike on the way to school.” Dalton's raspy chuckle against my skin feels oddly good, sending pleasurable shivers down my spine.
“I’m good. I don’t think you know how to handle thatbikeof yours,” I sass back, unable to help myself, the need to cause trouble pulsing through me.
A taste of freedom can do that, makes you rebel and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. A man can place me on my knees but he can’t keep me there. They want to play a game… I can play too.
“Enough. Who’s on babysitting duty after school? Tey and I will be at the warehouse doing business.” Logan’s eyes cut to me real quick before glancing between Dalton and Nicky with a raised brown eyebrow.
“I can’t. I have church tonight. A small supply shipment went missing last night,” Dalton grumbles as he tips his head back to glare at the ceiling, his fists clenching at his sides in clear frustration.
I would feel bad for him if I didn’t know what he meant. I wonder what kind of dealings his club is involved in. It’s always drugs. At least, that was what Payne had the club running, and human trafficking he dipped his hands in from time to time. God knows what else.
“Guess that leaves you, Nicky,” Logan announces with an evil smirk, twirling his keys around his finger before tossing them in the air and catching them again.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tey questions, his brow furrowed as he stares at Nicky as if he can read his mind.
That makes me wonder if I should be worried if Tey is concerned.
“It’s fine.” Nicky’s deep voice dips lower just as he glances down at me. “You can follow orders like a good girl, right?” He doesn’t wait for me to reply, clearly thinking I’ll follow whatever commands he barks at me just before he storms out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.
“Good girl, my ass,” I mutter to myself in a quiet tone, glaring at the front door as if I can see through it, and hoping he can feel my annoyance.
My breath catches in the back of my throat when I’m suddenly spun around and tossed over a firm, strong shoulder upside down with my sundress over my hips. I brace my palm against Dalton’s lower muscular back, clenching his cut in my fists as I feel the blood rush to my head.
“You’ll be a good girl or that little video of you stealing the Ferrari might just go viral all over the internet. The Chief of Police can lock you up until your club comes to collect you,” Dalton threatens, the smirk can be heard in his voice.
He smacks my ass unexpectedly, hard enough with the flat of his palm to make me gasp at the sting, his warning clear. My skin pulses on the surface where he slapped and oddly enough, I like the way it makes me squirm at the thought of him doing it again.
They don’t bluff.
With a throbbing, sore buttcheek, and my plan to turn them against each other flushing down the toilet, he strides out of the room with his hand on my thigh to hold me in place. He walks out the front door with a whistle towards his bike, my ass exposed to the early morning sky.
“Keep an eye on her, Dalton. Don’t know what kind of trouble she can get into before school even starts.” Logan skims his fingers down the back of my thigh as he walks towards his car.
“Please get into trouble. I can’t wait to punish you again. Be a bad girl, sweetcheeks.” Tey crosses his fingers and grabs my thong between my ass cheeks until it’s tight enough, before letting it snap back into place.
I’m going to murder him and bathe in his blood. My buttcrack hurts now.
Dalton lets go of me without warning, making me squeal as I slide down his body and land my already sore ass on the concrete driveway with a thud. I blow my hair out of my face and glare up at him from my sitting position. He just crosses his arms with a smirk, making his biceps bulge and strain against his white tee under his cut.
“Getting comfortable down there, aren’t you?” he says with that annoying smirk that brings out a dimple.He turns around towards his Harley as he chuckles, swinging his long legs over the seat with ease.
