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“I can make you sit out in the waiting room if you’d prefer,” D offers, a knowing smirk on his lips.
“No,” I state, sitting back down and folding my arms over my chest.
Stella’s eyes hold mine. I have no idea how she doesn’t just give in to her amusement. It’s written all over her face.
“Some fucking surprise,” I mutter, resting my elbows on my knees as I prepare to watch some other guy with his hands on my girl.
“It’ll be worth it. Promise.” She blows me another kiss, and dammit, it helps.
“Chill the fuck out, man,” Emmie hisses. “You’re starting to lose your bad boy image.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, glaring at her. “Luckily for me, I don’t really give a fuck what you think.”
D clears his throat.
“So how’s Miss Hill?” I ask, looking back over at him. “You had her in that chair yet?”
His eyes darken enough that I don’t really need an answer.
“Oh my God, Dad,” Emmie huffs.
“What? You’ve seen her ink.”
“Yeah, it’s amazing but… ugh. Can we just get on with this? I can’t stand the tension vibrating from this dick.” She shoots me a look.
“Do you need to be here?” I ask her, my brows raised.
“And miss my dad causing you some pain?”
D’s low chuckle of amusement fills the room as he wheels himself into place and tells Stella to move her leg.
“Fuck my life,” I whisper to myself as I realise where this is happening.
D sucks in a breath when he sees the scar I left behind on her inner thigh.
His hard eyes hold mine before they move to his daughter. “Any guy carves you up like this, Em, I’ll fucking kill him. Okay?”
“Yeah, whatever, Dad,” she mutters, not even lifting her eyes from the screen.
He gives me another warning stare that I meet, my gaze never faltering.
He might be an ex-Reaper, but he hasn’t been active for years despite his family connections. Safe to say, I’m far from scared of him.
I shrug, finally resting back on the couch as a familiar buzzing fills the room and he sets to work on my girl.
At least he’s fully aware of who she belongs to now.
