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“You okay, Red?” he murmurs for only me to hear.
“Peachy,” I respond, cheerfully. His lips twitch as if he’s fighting a smile. His eyes sparkle and it makes my stomach feel as if it has butterflies in it.
“Why is it you make me want to spank your ass just by smiling at me, Red?”
“Because you’re obsessed with sex and don’t really need a reason to spank me?” I ask, blinking like I’m the innocent one in this party.
He lets out a large bark of laughter and before I can even react to it, he captures my mouth and kisses me soundly. I should pull away and try to prepare myself for meeting everyone here at the club. Instead, I lose myself in his kiss, groaning as his tongue thrusts in, searching mine and immediately showing his dominance—and I surrender, loving this side of him in ways I can’t begin to explain.
“Damn, Grunt, let the girl up for air.”
I reluctantly pull back as the woman’s voice interrupts our kiss.
Luke lets out a breath of frustration and it makes me smile, laying my forehead against his chest, because it does sound like a grunt and I’m beginning to understand his road name all too well.
“Gina,” Luke mumbles as his fingers scrunch in my curls. Then, he kisses the top of my head. I pull back to look at him, wondering what in the world I’m going to do with him. Finally, I reluctantly go to Luke’s side where he puts his arm around me and holds me there—like I’d try to escape. I’m not going to do that; if last night taught me anything, it’s that walking away from Luke might be impossible.
“Is this the girl that Sledge says has your dick in knots?”
I blink, more than a little shocked as I look over the woman. She’s got bleach blonde hair that’s a little too fried from the coloring. There’s nothing soft about it. She’s older, I couldn’t really venture a safe guess because she’s spent a lot of time in the tanning bed. Her skin almost glows orange and it has a leathery sheen to it. She’s wearing a cut that proclaims her property of Sledge.
This is the woman that takes care of Luke’s daughter?
Okay, maybe I’m being a judgmental bitch, but in my defense ,if there was anything at all friendly about this woman maybe my reaction would be different. There’s not, though. Hell, she seems more predatory than the club twinkies over at the corner of the bar whispering furiously to each other even now.
I have no doubt that they’re whispering about me either. I also wouldn’t be surprised to find out that they’re led by the fake blonde in front of me.
“I’ve done quite a few things with Luke’s dick, but tying it in knots isn’t one of them. It works too damn good to try and damage,” I respond, my tone even.
“Shit, Red,” Luke mutters. He doesn’t laugh, but I can feel a silent chuckle move through his body.
“I’m Gina. My old man, Sledge, is one of the founding members here,” she replies, and there it is.
She’s drawing lines in the sand. I could care less. I’m not looking to sign up as a permanent fixture with the DC’s. It does make me wonder why she seems to be more than a little intimidated by me. I mean, she doesn’t know me. I’ve never spoken to her. Plus, Luke and I haven’t been together long enough for her to wonder what I am to him.
I don’t get it.
“I’m—”
“This is my old lady, Red,” Luke replies completely interrupting me. My body physically jolts, my back locking into place.
His old lady?
“You gave her your cut?” Gina asks, her eyes going wide. Mine don’t, I’m not about to betray my shock in front of this chick because she’s looking for signs of weakness. I know she is, even if I don’t understand the why.
“I did. Giving it to her tonight at the party.”
Oh fuck. There’s a party tonight?
“That’s a surprise,” Gina says, and her gaze rakes over me as if she finds me lacking.
I mean damn, I don’t look my best, but I look good.
I have my hair pulled back in what looks like a simple pony tail, but in reality, took time to tease and fluff, to make the curls appear as if they’re always manageable. I’m wearing a red turtleneck sweater, which might be a tad warm, but looks damn good on me and shows off my girls to their best advantage. I’m also wearing a black vest, which doesn’t scream biker. It screams fashion runway in Milan, and I had to save up for freaking months and months to buy it. I have on my best pair of faded jeans, they hug my ass and are worn in just the right places. I look hot, damn it, and probably better than trash-can Barbie has in her entire life.
