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I grunt, mostly because I want to tell her she does look like a little girl, but I still want to fuck her.
Her perfectly formed eyebrow, thick and curved as if kissed by the damn gods, arches up in question, all while the other remains perfectly still on her face. It doesn’t move at all. I don’t know why I notice that, but fuck me, I do. I couldn’t tell you why I like it… but it turns me on.
“Who are you? You don’t look like a member of the Savage crew.”
She reaches out then, her hand moving over my cut, a finger reaching up to move over the rocker panel with my name on it. It’s stupid. There’s no way I can feel the heat of her touch—at least logically, but yet somehow, I do.
“He’s not one of ours,” Nailer answers and he goes to stand between me and the girl.
I don’t let him—which is stupid. Instead, I reach out and grab the girl’s hand, holding it to my chest. Her hand is much smaller than mine. Mine is stark white and inked, but it stands out against her soft, slightly darker one. She feels delicate and gentle, something I’ve never had… not once in my life.
“Chains,” she says, still looking at my name. Slowly her gaze travels up to me.
“That’s my name,” I tell her.
“Are you going to let go of my hand?” she asks.
“Do you want me to?” I respond.
For some reason that makes her smile and as I watch those full lips stretch into a smile, I find I like that even more than the sound of my name on her tongue.
“Kayden, get behind me,” Nailer orders.
“Are you going to let me into my office?” she asks, not turning her gaze away from me.
“No fucking way,” Nailer growls.
“Then, I think I’ll pass,” she shrugs, lifting her shoulders up as if she doesn’t have a care in the world and this time it’s me who smiles.
“You here to join the Savage Brothers, nomad?” she asks, surprising me. Apparently, whoever the girl is, she’s damn familiar with the club life. She looks too soft to be part of my world, of any biker’s world, and for some reason the thought of her losing that bothers me.
“Nope, not me.”
“Too bad. You might pretty the place up.”
“Not much pretty about me, Baby Girl.”
“I think I’m a better judge of that than you,” she says with a grin.
“If you want to stay in town alive, you best let go of Kayden.”
“She yours?” I ask, still not taking my eyes off her—and still not letting her go.
“Ew, no way,” the girl responds, crinkling her face up.
“You don’t need to be making that kind of face damn it. Before I claimed my old lady—”
“Oh, don’t get your balls in a twist. I just meant you diapered me when I was little. The thought of us… No. Just no.”
I laugh. The sound is rusty, because I don’t fucking do it very often, but still, I laugh.
“Kayden, quit causing shit and get home. If you don’t, I’m calling Dragon.”
“Fine,” she mutters, and sadly takes her hand away. “See you around, Chains.”
“Later,” I respond. Then I watch as she walks away, my eyes glued to the way her ass sways in that barely there denim miniskirt. It bounces with each step and I swear a couple of times I could see the swell of her ass cheeks.
“She’s underage,” Nailer warns me.
I turn to look at him then and I can see the dislike on his face.
“How old?” I ask.
“Eighteen.”
“I reckon that’s legal.”
“Not with her father being the President of the Savage Brothers it’s not,” he warns me and his words have the effect of wrapping my balls in cold ice.
Well fuck.3KaydenThe Den is definitely different in the daytime. It’s empty. The seats are up on the tables, the worn, wood floors polished and ready for more traffic tonight. I’ve been here a few times, once or twice while it was open, but only because I was tagging along with my mom and/or my dad. Mom oversees the place. Dad gave it to her to manage years ago, before I was born. It doesn’t seem like a place my mom would shine in, but then again, my mom shines anywhere.
It’s also a place that has a special meaning to them. I don’t know the whole story. But I’ve heard enough to know that this was the place that my dad decided to claim my mom as his old lady. My mom was a waitress here back then. In fact, the table that she waited on my dad and Uncle Crusher doesn’t get used. It’s sectioned off and Dad turned it into a booth. When he shows up that’s where him and Mom stay. It’s sweet. If you look at my dad, you wouldn’t think he was sentimental in the least, but he is. He even bought the gas station where he first saw my mom. He always talks about how she was standing there, pumping gas. He says she was the prettiest damn thing that he had ever seen in his life and much too good for him. When he tells the story he’s always staring straight at Mom. To this day, Mom blushes when she tells it too.
