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Being VP of a motorcycle club—not exactly all about female empowerment—I almost expect Rooster to laugh. But he tilts his head, studying me for a few seconds. “You said it yourself. Never even met her. You don’t owe her shit. Besides, this is business. Nothing personal.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “You already have a man,” he says against my ear. “You don’t need hers.”
Warmth sweeps over my skin, chasing away the unsettling sensation lingering in my belly from the talk with Dawson. “I sure do.”
And I can’t stop falling head over boots for him either.Chapter Forty-OneRooster
Watching Shelby and Dawson belt out ‘Friends in Low Places’ is a thousand times better than the ‘let’s fuck all night’ song they’ve been performing.
So fucking proud of the way she handled it too. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I drew blood trying not to laugh when she asked him about his ex.
The arena’s so damn big, it’s hard to find a good spot to take my video of their duet. Lynn’s gonna be getting a side-stage view. It’s the best I can manage.
The song winds down and Dawson wraps an arm around Shelby’s shoulders. “Shelby Morgan, everyone. I’ll see y’all later.”
The building shakes from the screams of the fans as he walks offstage. Fucking brilliant move, honestly. I bet all the seats will be filled for Shelby’s show tomorrow.
Kinda pissed I’ll miss it.
Shelby says a few more words, then the lights blink out and a curtain drops.
“What’d you think?” Dawson asks me.
Not sure why he gives a shit about my opinion. I hit stop on my phone, shut off the screen and jam it in my pocket. “Sounded good. Recorded it to send to her mom.”
“Ah.” He slaps my shoulder. “You two have fun. Take her someplace nice.”
“Thanks.”
Shelby runs straight for me, bright-eyed and breathless. “What’d you think?”
“You were amazing.” I pick her up for a quick kiss but she loops her arms over my head and her legs around my waist, hanging on tight. “Easy,” I groan into her mouth. “People around.”
“I don’t care,” she whispers against my lips.
Next to us, someone clears their throat.
I growl at the intrusion. Shelby unwinds her body from me and I set her down.
Greg’s exasperated scowl pulls a laugh from me.
“I suppose you’re taking off?” he says to Shelby.
“If that’s all right, yeah.” She slips her hand into mine. “I’m done, right?”
“Yeah, go on.”
“I need to change first and load up my stuff.” She tugs me forward.
Greg stops me with a hand against my chest.
Slowly, I drop my gaze. “Careful, Greg. Last man who did that is walking around with a bloody stump.”
He snatches his hand away. “We’re at the inn behind the arena. She needs to be there by ten a.m.”
Fuck, that’s earlier than I’d planned. “Yeah, okay. We’ll be at the Crown on Water Street.”
He raises an eyebrow. Where’d he expect me to take her? Some fleabag motel that rents rooms by the hour?
His attitude evaporates and he squeezes Shelby’s shoulder. “Good show tonight. I think it was your best one yet.”
“You liked ‘Friends in Low Places?’” She grins.
“Yes, that was a great ender. But I’m talking about your performance. Good job.”
“Thanks.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Trent’s waiting in her dressing room. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to put in the van?” He gestures to her trunk and the different bags scattered around.
“Shoot.” Shelby bites her lip. “The trunk definitely. I have my backpack ready for tonight, so I’ll keep that and my purse.” She glances down. “But I need to pack up my dress.”
“I’ll bring the trunk with us, Trent,” I offer. “You’re not leaving right now, are you?”
“Nah, we’ll be here for a bit.” He gathers up some of her other things. “Guitar’s already up there. You don’t need it, right?”
“Nope. All set.” She walks him to the door and locks it after he leaves.
“What do you need me to do, Shelby?” I ask, sorting through the stuff spilling out of her trunk. “You got a hanger or something you want the dress on?”
“Take out your cock.”
“What now?” I turn my attention from the trunk to her.
She kicks her shoes in the direction of the trunk, hitting the side with two solid thumps. “You heard me.” Her hips sway as she closes the short distance between us. She presses her hands against my chest and pushes.
I smile down at her. “You’re gonna have to be stronger than that to take me down.”
“That right?” She slides her hands lower, cupping me through my jeans.
“Fuck.” My eyes close. She gives me another shove and this time I topple onto the couch.
“That’s better.” She gathers her skirt and slips her hands underneath it. A few seconds later, her little shorts and her underwear sail toward the trunk.
My heart hammers. “What are you doing?”
