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Lifting my head, I grin down at him. His thumb traces my lower lip, and I start to lean down for another kiss. But I’m left blinking in shock when he lifts me, depositing me back into my seat. Scrambling for my panties and jeans, I get dressed as Merch zips his cock away, repositioning his seat and pulling back onto the highway, back to San Remo.
He drives back to the same parking spot near the diner in silence. I notice the shiny black motorcycle not far away. Merch smirks across the car at me, leaving the keys in the ignition.
“See you ‘round, kid.”
His hand finds the door handle, and he’s gone, striding away to his bike. I stare after him, a goofy grin creeping over my face. Scrambling over the center console, I adjust my seat, pull into traffic, and drive home. I should definitely come and visit Lisa more often. That was amazing.
Chapter 11
MERCH
Hammering on the door, I can’t hear any sex sounds, so I think they’ve finished up in there. The door opens, and Palmer grins at me, his hair messed up.
“That’s a good shade on you, brother,” I drawl, flicking my finger at my cheekbone. Palmer smirks, rubbing his chin, looking at the pink lipstick that comes away between his fingers.
“Everything is my color. What’s up?”
“I need Lisa’s phone.”
Palmer’s eyebrows shoot up, but he steps back to let me into the office.
“Why the fuck do you need her phone?”
“I need a number out of it.”
We’ve reached Lisa, where she’s sitting at the desk, studiously typing, pretending she isn’t wearing her shirt inside out with just fucked hair. Palmer leans down, sliding his lips over her ear.
“Merch needs a phone number from you, sweetness,” he murmurs. Lisa giggles, turning and arching an eyebrow.
“Whose number do you need?”
“Shelley’s.”
Lisa laughs, tipping her head back to study me. “Why do you want her number?”
“Because she’s a good fuck.”
Why the fuck else would I want the woman’s number? Really, it’s not that hard to figure out. Palmer snorts, straightening so Lisa doesn’t hear him. I flip him off, and Lisa rolls her eyes, digging her phone out of her purse. She pulls up Shelley’s details, reciting the number while I type it into my phone.
“Thanks. You kids get back to your fucking.”
“What? We’re not….” Lisa blusters, but Palmer laughs, waving me off.
“Close the door behind you. I intend to have her moaning before you’re out of the building.”
Chuckling, I close the door firmly behind me, ignoring Lisa’s small, excited squeals. The office beside hers is empty. All Wren’s things are there, but she’s due in less than a month, so Bruiser has her on house arrest.
Thank fuck we made Rattler a member. He’s been running errands for her, so the rest of the enforcers don’t have to. I like Wren, but I’m nobody’s shopping bitch.
Striding out of the clubhouse, I beeline for my rig, ignoring the calls for me to join in a game of pool.
MERCH: Hey kid. You in town?
Fuck. I should probably have said who I was. She might think I’m some random creeper. I’m just about to text that it’s me when a reply pops up.
KID: As in San Remo? No. I’m in Pinedale.
Course she is. I’ve been in her fancy fuck off BMW – hell of a sweet ride – no way she lives around here. I can work with Pinedale.
