My phone starts ringing again. And as much as I don’t want to leave her, I have to. I’ve got asswipes to track down and teach a valuable lesson.
“No one hurts you and gets away with it,” I say, making a point of pressing my hand to her bruised body before my eyes zero in on the black eye that still needs resolving.
The both of us wait to speak until my phone stops ringing.
“I’m going to leave with you,” she says, dipping in quickly for another kiss and going to pull away.
But I’m quicker and I roll, pinning her to the bed, kissing her deep until she’s squirming under me. “You got someone else you have to rush back to?”
“No,” she smirks before the play falls away and a whole lot of sass fills her eyes. “You? Any skanky biker bitches I have to sort out?”
“Killer, I promise you from this point on you’re the only skanky bitch I’ll be riding.”
“You calling me skanky?” She glowers all fake and pretty, pretending she is getting ready to fight.
“And nasty. Fucking filthy too.” I dip down and bite the side of her throat again. “Exactly what I want.”
She doesn’t fight or argue, instead she wraps those long legs around me again and we spend a remarkable amount of time making out before the inevitable happens and I slide back inside her body, knotting her until she’s deafening me with her pleasure.
Carrying her bags to the rental I picked up for her, sunrise is still hours away, but she looks like she’s ready to walk down the runway. It’s weird finding out Tristan is a model, even after all the photographer shit. Not sure how I feel about other people looking at her body, or face for that matter.
My phone rings again and she shakes her head. The fucking thing has been ringing non-stop, but I take Joker’s call as I guide Tristan into the lift. Her attack made me rethink a couple of things, including these two meeting. It has to be, because if something happens to me, he’s going to be the one I task with her welfare.
My call with Joker is over before the lift arrives only because he’s meeting us downstairs. Sliding my phone to my back pocket to free up a hand, I guide her inside then crowd against her, getting my last fill of her taste until fuck knows when. A quick chat upstairs and she’s already got me hooked up to her schedule and I’m in her phone under some other name, like she’s in mine. Except I’ll switch it out from King’s Skanky Queen to something less conspicuous, unless of course I don’t.
The lift shudders to a stop and without telling her she stays hidden in the corner of the lift as I scope out the mostly deserted underground garage. Joker’s big ass shadow is down where her car is parked but he’s the only person around.
I grab her hand, and she walks with me, her head held high, and no one would know she’s my secret lover or she’s just been attacked by some assholes that are about to be tracked down and beaten until they stop fucking breathing, because she owns the moment.
She beeps her car unlocked when we get close enough and Joker opens the cargo hold so I can put her bags in the back before we do anything else. I watch him though, making sure his eyes do not drift from Tristan’s face. And definitely not on her long as fuck legs in a pair of shorts that I nearly deemed too fucking short. The saucy wink I got when she pulled them up her hips was pretty telling of the mouthful I’d get if I told her to go change.
But we can have that conversation later on.
Joker is strangely quiet; his eyes stay on me and he’s careful to keep the look in his eyes devoid of anything that could be interpreted as a challenge. I gave him the heads up that I’d met someone when I spoke to him after I got the photo, but I guess there’s no mistaking the way I am standing just in front of Tristan and the plumes of threat rolling off my skin.
Tristan waits without saying a thing next to me, a small squeeze of her hand against mine. I speak eventually. “Joker, this is who I wanted you to meet.”
His impasse remains as he nods at her like he’s never met her before in his life, which is definitely not the case. Like me, he was introduced to Tristan last night at drinks and dinner with Raney and Koz and the rest of the Scorned Girls.
“Tristan,” she says confidently, reaching past me but not letting go of my hand to shake his. And as she moves, she stirs up the air, making it near impossible to deny my scent is all over her body.
And my come is still in her pussy though that fact is only for me and her.
“Looks like I’m your contact if you can’t get King,” he says carefully, still being mindful of his eyeline.
“Looks like,” she laughs loudly before she spins around and kisses the fuck out of me, leaving me growling against her lips. She pulls away to stare into my eyes for a second before she climbs in her car and drives off.
“Fuck, King… really?” Joker says eventually.
“What?” I snap, my fist clenching.
“Never thought I’d see the day is all. I mean if your ass can get owned by some tiny Omega I’m going to live in fucking hope too.” Joker bellows out a laugh and slaps my back, although his laughter is cut short. “We’ll find the pricks who touched her, and they’ll pay. And I’ll watch her if you can’t. But shit man, give me the heads up when you spill to Raney. She’s going to go ape shit when she finds out.”
“Fuck off,” I throw back at him but there’s nothing but relief in my words. Relief because having Joker’s word makes his promise gospel. “Now come on, I’ve got a job for the prospects involving some cunt’s photo studio and a firebomb. It will be good practice for ’em.”
Chapter
Ten
