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My mom had been one, so whether she knew it or not, she was walking on thin ice.
Her brow furrowed. “InSons of Anarchy—” Of course, she’d watched that. “—they always try to be with bikers though. As if that’s the gateway to them.” Her shoulders wriggled. “To each their own. I just…”
“You just what?”
“I don’t think I’d want that for my daughter if I had one.”
Well, she had me there.
For a second, the only thing I could see was a mini MaryCat, all red hair and big green eyes, growing up and pulling moves clubwhores did…
I couldn’t argue with her.
“Would you want your daughter to be forced into the same situation as you? Clubwhore or daughter of a Five Pointer, doesn’t it all boil down to what’s between your legs?”
Her eyes rounded, and while I expected her temper, I didn’t get it. She nodded. “You’re right. It’s very, very wrong.”
“Agreed.”
“Was your mom a…” MaryCat winced. “I don’t want to call her that.”
“She was. She was desperate after she had me.”
“That’s even sadder,” she said miserably.“Especially with her… you know, that she was raped? It must have been difficult for her to be… intimate.”
I swallowed.
Why had I never put that particular two and two together?
My poor mom. Fuck, she’d had it rough.
Closing my eyes a second, I forced myself to stop thinking about this because if I didn’t, Bill Murphy would be wearing a body bag next.
Mom wouldn’t want me to spend another thirty years in prison because of that asshole.
God, the temptation, though.
Especially now.
Shit, maybe Nyx and I were more alike than I realized.
“I guess.” Because I could see her misery was real and because I felt it too and was glad for her empathy, I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Turn on the faucet.” I was kind as I maneuvered us so that my back would be blasted with the cold water. She reached around me and did as I asked. I tensed when the water hit but changed the subject: “It might be too late for the UTI. But we can go to a clinic if that’s the case.”
“This isn’t a very romantic conversation,” she complained with a pout that I wanted to kiss.
So I did.
Because I could.
“Sometimes, sex isn’t.”
“That sucks,” she said breathily, flushed now and not because of the hot water.
“I’ll teach you how to do that later.”
Her eyes widened. “You will?”
Well, damn. I’d been teasing, but I saw her curiosity was clear.
