Truth is, I’ve been comparing them. Both men are beyond hot, tall, amazing bodies and damn, even more amazing cocks. I’m not ashamed to think that. I’ve been with a lot of men in my life, but it’s really fucking hard to choose who was better. They’re different, it’s like their personalities bleed through into how they fuck.
Although there is a dark side to Eli, he’s the mild-mannered southern guy who is loyal, quiet and gets the job done. He has a dominant streak I never would have expected from him. As much as he took control, he made sure I was never uncomfortable with what he was doing. Eli took care of me. While well and truly railing me, giving me one hell of a good time.
Mace on the other hand is passionate and single-minded. I could have been mad about how he picked me up and without a single thought about making sure I was ready, getting straight to it.
I was ready, there was no doubt about it. Like a fucking wanton woman, needing him inside me. He owned me, pushing me to a point where it would be a struggle to get free, but I never felt the need.
Mace doesn’t scare me. Neither does Eli. What does scare me, is knowing I’d do it again, with both of them. Jesus fuck, don’t even go there.
The whir of the gates rolling back breaks me out of my filthy thoughts. I’ve gone so far as imaging them both touching me, to thepoint where my god damn panties are damp. My face flushes, how the fuck I’m fantasizing about these two men with my brother in the car?
Once Ransom has driven me up to the clubhouse, he begs off and says he has somewhere to be. Before I can protest he’s heading back to the gate. Fucking ass.
“Cassie.”
Shit. I turn to see my father coming out of the clubhouse. I think I’d prefer the wrath of mom than the stoic, scary man in front of me.
“Where’s mom?”
Dad stares at me and despite learning to stand up to that look over the years, I submit and follow him inside after the silent invitation and warning to not disobey. I don’t answer to these guys, he isn’t one of them right now. He’s my dad.
He leads me to the back of the clubhouse, and King’s office. This isn’t normal. Jesus, the last thing I need is to be explaining this shit to King.
There is no one in the office when we go in, he nods his head at the couch beneath the window. He doesn’t sit in King’s chair, he might be using his office but it’s disrespectful to take his chair. Instead he sits in the chair facing King’s. God forbid he sit next to me.
It’s hard for me to answer the questions to myself that dad is going to ask. Why couldn’t I get myself out of that situation? Why did I feel the need to pull the trigger on an app I’d resented having on my phone in the first place?
“What happened?” Dad gets straight to the point.
He doesn’t need to ask if I’m alright, he can see I am and I’m sure Ransom told him what I said and where I was when he called to say he was handling me. That makes me bristle.
It seems silly to say it now but as I explain, briefly because it’s still attorney client privilege, dad doesn’t move, nor does his facial expression change.
That is probably worse than him flipping out.
“If you called because you were worried about what happened when you left the restaurant with him, then you need to think about where this goes,” he eventually says.
He’s giving me the option to make up my own mind. I know what he wants me to do. And I know what he will do if anything happens to me. Mom will lose it and demand I stop representing Vance and stay the hellaway from him, but this is my job. Dad understands that and whether he’s communicative about it or not, he knows I need that side of my life to keep sane.
No one can say I take after Rosa Beillo. I’m more like dad than I’d care to admit. I speak my mind, sure and I don’t have that darkness that dad needs to be what he is for the club, but I’ve inherited his stoicism and rational thinking.
“It has crossed my mind.”
Dad folds his arms and leans back in his chair.
“My work means a lot.”
He nods.
I know what he’s doing. And I’m letting him. “This isn’t like anything I’ve dealt with before. It’s the first time they’ve made me feel objectified and belittled. As one of the best lawyers at that firm it’s pissing me off. All because of what is between my legs.”
One of his eyes twitches and I try to hide the smile at getting a rise out of him. He lifts a brow at me. It’s amazing how much Ballistic can communicate without ever opening his mouth. The rest of the council understand every nuance of his facial expressions too. Besides me and Ransom, the only other person who gets him is Hudson.
Maybe I should speak to Waverley after this. She’s smart and she will understand this better than anyone. I dismiss it immediately. Waverley has a past that involves something similar to what I suspect Vance of. Bringing this to her door would be cruel. She’d help in a heartbeat, but this is my problem. My decision to make.
“As King sees it, there is more than enough to keep you busy here. And the offer is always there. I do understand why you haven’t agreed to that.”
“I need my own identity dad.”
