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“It is, but now we have a problem to take care of, and we can’t do that until the Costas are paid off.”
“We don’t have that kind of liquid cash lying around,” he says. “I’ll ask around, but don’t hold your breath.”
On that note, he hangs up. I’m bummed the club can’t help because I trust them, but I also know that if they find someone, it’ll be a solid contact. The Royal Bastards do business the way we do, carefully.
“Asshole,” I mutter, tucking my phone back into my pocket.
I’m digging through Navy’s toiletries to find some kind of oil or lotion to rub her down with when my phone buzzes with a text. I’m shocked as shit to see it’s from Loki.
Loki: I can get you a sit-down with Manuel. He’s a gun supplier and has the cash if it’s the right investment.
Me: Thanks. Give him my number.
Loki: Already did.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
NAVY
When I get back to the bedroom, Rigger is stripped down to his underwear and tells me to lie face down on the bed with my towel. Once I’m in position, he flips the light off, leaving only the gentle glow from my frog tank.
“Have you ever given a massage before?” I ask.
“No.”
“Has anyone ever given you a massage?” I regret asking immediately because if he tells me some story about one of the club chicks rubbing him down, I will throw up. We’ve never talked about how many or which of them he’s fucked, and I don’t plan to. Things like that are better left unsaid, especially if he expects me to show face at the clubhouse ever again.
“No, but how hard could it be?” I hear the click of a bottle lid open. “I found this lavender shit on your vanity. Will that be okay?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a squirting sound, then him rubbing his hands together. My body hums in anticipation. I want the massage, but more than that, I want Rigger to touch me. I can’t believe I’m in a place where things like sex and intimacy don’t make me want to crawl out of my skin. It’s everything I’ve wanted for myself.
I’m not dumb enough to think I’m cured, but I’m aware and comfortable enough to have those hard conversations with my partner. That’s more than good enough for me.
He straddles my hips, bringing my towel to just above my ass. “Let me know if I’m not doing it right.”
“You think I’ve had a massage before?” I laugh.
“Guess not.” He chuckles deep and throaty. “At least your expectations won’t be high.”
His warm, strong hands begin at my shoulders, kneading away at the knots that have lived there for most of my life. It feels so good I can’t help but moan and close my eyes. He takes his time, working through each knot before moving lower. By the time he reaches my lower back, I’m blissed out and nearly asleep.
“New rule. If you want me to stay in Reno, you have to do this every night,” I slur.
He chuckles. “Oh yeah? What do I get out of it?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Better not make promises you can’t keep, babe.”
My curiosity is sparked, and I ask, “What would you have me do?”
“My mind is full of ideas.”
“Like?”
He scoots down to my upper thighs, his hands massaging my lower back. I swear I almost orgasm at the euphoric feeling. “I liked seeing your ass red with my mark.”
