“I can’t believe you moved in with some biker thug,” Athena squawks at me. This is probably the hundredth time this week she’s expressed her disbelief. We’restanding in the parking lot after school and I cast a glance around to make sure we’re not being overheard.
“He’s not a thug.”
She slants an are-you-kidding-face at me.
“Well, he’s not tome.”
She thrusts her chin up at my car. “Yeah, I guess so.” She reaches out and hugs me. “I’m glad you’re over Logan for good.”
“Me too.” I realize I mean it, too. Dante has obliterated everything and everyone else from my mind. And probably my heart.
“Okay, go have fun getting fucked fifty ways sideways,” she chirps with a wave.
“What the hell does that even mean?” I grumble to myself as I get into my car.
Flipping down my visor, I brush my hair free of tangles and weave it into two thick braids. Dante didn’t specify anything other than the skirt, but I have a feeling he’ll appreciate my attention to detail.
Next to me, my phone peeps and I scoop it off the seat.
Dante:Where’s my baby girl?
Good Lord, this man makes me wet with a fuckingtext.
Me:School parking lot. Leaving now.
I wait to see if he responds. When he doesn’t, I put the car in gear and head to the clubhouse.
The parking lot is full of big, black, shiny motorcycles, huge pickup trucks, and a few cars. It’s only three in theafternoon, but that doesn’t seem to matter. This MC apparently likes to get the party started early. Afraid of going in alone with so many people around, I send Dante a text saying I’m outside before I get out of my car.
Apprehension swirls in my belly as my heels click over the pavement. Dante said he didn’t want to share me. But during the week, I’d picked up a bit of gossip about the sort of things that went on behind the big black doors of the Iron Bulls MC.
A kid I recognize from my high school rushes over. He’s wearing a plain leather cut. His lone patch reads “Prospect”. My face heats up under the scrutiny of his blatant stare. The sweater I’m wearing is tight, and the V shows a hint of my boobs, but my belly is covered. My skirt is an actual skirt. It’s short, but my ass isn’t peeking out or anything. There’s definitely a few inches of bare leg between my knee socks and the hem of my skirt, though.
“Who’re you here for, sexy thing?” he asks while still running his horny gaze over me.
“She’s mine,” Dante growls from the doorway.
The prospect’s face twists into anI just shit myselfexpression and I have to slap my hand over my mouth so I don’t laugh.
“Hey, baby girl,” Dante calls to me, his warm rough voice slides over my skin, leaving goosebumps.
“Hi,” I answer shyly. I’m not sure why. He’s been away for the last two days, so I guess I’m unsure if we go right back to the way things were before he left.
Instead of calling me over to him, he steps outside. “Get lost,” he barks at the prospect, who takes offaround the corner.
As he stalks toward me, he lifts his chin. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
When he reaches me, he settles his hands on my hips and looks me over. He hums an appreciative noise. One hand reaches up to toy with my braids. “You went all out for me, didn’t you?”
Overwhelmed by the butterflies he stirs up inside me, I can only whisper, “Yes, daddy.”
“Fuck, baby girl. I fuckin’ missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
“You ain’t actin’ like it.”
