Page 26 of Riding Bare

Hookers and drugs really aren’t our thing. All of us love the fires. It’s an art form, really, being able to incinerate an entire mansion without burning the entire block down. And we’ve perfected it. As long as we can keep a steady stream, the income can’t be beat for the effort we put in, or lack thereof.

It’s mostly paperwork, but as we know, if that’s fucked up, it can fuck up a hell of a lot. We owe the Russians for the fuckup. They also didn’t come for us, didn’t blame us, when they very well could have.

As much as I want to pretend that I can tell them to fuck off and it’ll be that easy, I can’t. We need to work together, or there’s going to be an all-out war on our hands, something that I’ve been trying for months to keep from happening.

But as each day passes, as new information comes to light, I have a feeling there will at least be some kind of scuffle, if not a whole-ass war. Stepping to the side, I jerk my chin toward the door that leads to the room where we hold church.

I watch as the men begin to make their way there, but Cake doesn’t move immediately. Instead, he flicks his gaze over to meet Chassis’s before he speaks. He extends his palm, and Chassis lifts hers to slip it into his. He flexes his fingers around her hand before he speaks.

“Don’t go anywhere. I want to see my daughter and spend some time with her before I head back to Arizona.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Her words come out in a whisper, and I can’t help but smile, even if it’s a bit sadly. Cake dips his chin in a single nod, then walks away and heads to the room. Everyone is in there, likely waiting for me, but they have to wait because church doesn’t start without the president.

I turn to my woman, giving her all my attention. Lifting my hands, I cup her cheeks, my thumb sliding across her bottom lip as I focus on her. My gaze connects to hers, unmoving because there is nobody else in the fucking world as important as her right now.

“You good, sweetheart?” I ask.

Her pretty blue eyes look into mine. My cock twitches beneath my zipper, pressing hard and without a doubt leaving an imprint. I can’t help but wonder if we have a few minutes to slip into my bedroom.

And also, I’m highly impressed with myself, because the fact that I feel like I could go again is downright fucking amazing considering we only left our bed a few hours ago. It makes me want to see how long I can go for a round two within a few hours.

“I’m good, Amos,” she exhales.

Yeah. I could go again.

“Stay out here. Get whatever you want out of the fridge. We’ll start cooking once the meeting is over. Elodie, Alex, and Juliette should be here soon with the food.”

She dips her chin once, her gaze searching mine. “I don’t have anywhere to go, Amos. I’ll be right here.”

I shift my face closer to hers, and my lips touch hers in a brief kiss before I speak against them. “Good girl.”

I lift my head, my hand falls from her face, and I smirk at the sight of the goose bumps that appear on her skin.

Fuck yeah, good girl.

My good girl.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

CHASSIS

Once Amos is gone, the door is closed, and the clubhouse is quiet, I look around the bar. This is only the second time I’ve been here, and I know I should feel comfortable considering I’m the president’s wife, but I don’t.

This isn’t the Prescott Club. This isn’t where I grew up. And also, these are not the clubwhores who respect me. The one from the other day made that shit crystal clear. I don’t even remember her name. I haven’t seen her since, but she still gets under my skin.

I narrow my eyes, watching as one of them makes her way toward me, slithering out of the hallway. All the men are gone, and she thinks she’s going to come over and fuck with me, like her bitch friend did the first time I came in here.

She can kick rocks. Her eyes find mine, and she smirks. I’m not sure what she thinks is funny, and I also do not care. But clearly, she’s got things to say because she continues to make her way toward me, stopping when she’s a few feet away.

“I just wanted to let you know, head bitch to head bitch, that Rocky is gone. I’m the one in charge of the clubwhores, and if you have any problems, it’s me you come to.”

Instead of giving her much of anything, I decide to ask a simple question. Just one. It’s the only one I need to ask.

“Not Dare?”