“Thank ya, sweetheart, I’m honored, of course,” I say gravely. “But I’m very fond of my bride.”
Glancing up, I see Luna staring at me with a little frown, as if trying to understand what angle I’m playing here.
“Ya know, in some ways, your upbringing was similar to mine,” I say, taking her hand and heading for the Range Rover.
“Really…” So much disbelief and defensiveness in a single word.
“Aye. Ya learned that the world is not what you were taught it was. Ya know how to look past people’s words to find their real intent. Survival skills? You’ve been taking care of yourself since ya were twelve. Ya armor up every day like you’re going to war.”
“And these are all crucial life skills embraced by the mafia?”
Luna lets me lift her onto her seat. I keep a hand by her hip, leaning my arm against the car roof, blocking her in. Her mouth is set in a firm line, like she’s not lettin’ any unseemly vulnerability leak out.
“You’d be surprised,” I admit.
“Boss? Did ya want to drive?” Ian’s standing behind us looking politely confused, and I realize I put Luna in the front seat.
“Aye. Ride in the chase car with the other men.”
Ian nods, waiting for me to get in the Range Rover too, before heading back to the other SUV.
“What? Kai MacTavish, driving his own car? Like acommoner?”Luna thinks she’s hilarious.
“I do drive on occasion, ya Bessie. If Ian’s in the car, I canna do this…” She’s helpfully wearing a sundress and I put my hand on her thigh, pushing the fabric up as I move closer to her pussy. My bride isn't stopping me, though she does look a little shocked.
“What do you think you’re doing?” It’s less aggressive and more anticipatory, but I dinna know if she notices that.
“I have my hand on your thigh, baby. I’m going to yank your knickers to the side and shove two or three of my fingers in you because you are fecking tempting, and I’m having trouble concentrating on anything else.”
My fingers reach the wet fabric of the last thing between me and my bride’s pussy. She glances anxiously out the window and in the back seat like she’s expecting a photographer to be hiding there.
“This is too public,” she gulps, “someone could be right next to us at a traffic light and they’d see your fingers and my face and probably hear me.”
I focus on the road as I slide my finger slowly up the silky path between her lips, which are already getting wet for me, circling her clit without touching it.
Luna’s eyes flutter shut as her hips come up, trying to push my finger where she wants it. I pull it out and slap her on the pussy, three times, hard enough to sting. Her knickers are silk, thin, and wet, so I dinna think they provided any protection. Her knees slam shut as she yelps.
“Wh- what the hell was that?” The pupils in her pretty blue eyes are expanding, and I doubt she’s aware of the pink flush rising on her pale skin. “You slapped me!”
“No, I spanked your pussy,” I correct her. “When I’m playing, ya must be a good lass and hold still for me. Do ya wanna try this again?”
Oh, the dilemma. She’s irritably chewing her lips because she dinna want to say the words; it would mean giving in.
Not that it wouldn’t be a good thing every now and then. Not everything has to be a fight, but I suspect my bride hasn’t learned that yet.
She sounds like she’s gargling with gravel. “Yes. Please.”
My hand’s sliding back up her thigh when there’s a tremendous crash behind us, metal crumpling, glass shattering, and the surprised screams of bystanders. A huge truck slammed into the SUV carrying my guards, the front is nearly buried under the truck’s bumper.
“Oh my god,” Luna gasps. “Stop! We have to go back! Was that idiot trucker trying to kill them? Who drives like-”
The guards are already piling out of the crumpled mass of metal. Freddie the driver is getting dragged behind another car, and everyone else looks a little bloody but okay. Ian waves at me, pulls out his gun, and fires into the truck. Slamming on the gas, I barely miss another truck barreling toward us as I race down the street.
“What are you doing?” Luna says, twisting in her seat to keep watching out the back window. “Why are you leaving them? Ian waved for you to stop!”
“No lass, he was telling me to go. The guards canna protect you.”
“From wh-”
