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“No, I got this. Although, that guy with you is fuckin’ useless,” I grunt as I reach for a stack of five boxes.
I pick them up off the seat, take a couple of steps backward, and look around them as I watch her move across the seat. Once she’s got her feet on the ground, she turns away from me and bends over, grabbing some boxes from somewhere in the truck. I have no clue where she gets them from because my eyes are focused on her sweet ass and nowhere else.
She turns around, two boxes in her hands, and gives me a smile. “Where to?” she asks.
With a grunt, I turn from her and head straight for the clubhouse. The loser with her finally does something productive and opens the door for us. There are a couple of six-foot-long banquet tables set up against a wall where these cupcakes are going to be set up and hopefully consumed.
I set my stack of cupcakes on the end of the table, and she places hers down next to mine then turns to leave. I reach out and wrap my hand around her bicep, feeling her soft and frail arm beneath my grasp. She’s small. I could fucking hurt her. I’m not used to that.
The clubwhores here aren’t frail by any means. They aren’t slight creatures. They are strong, firm everywhere, hard even, and could hold their own if need be. I’ve seen them do it, too. This isn’t the same. She’s soft and fragile.
“Stay here,” I grunt. “I’ll get the rest.”
“But it’s my job,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes wide and fucking shimmering with innocence as she stares up at me. I imagine them looking similarly when she’s sucking my dick.
Goddamn, I want to fuck her.
Searching her gaze with mine, I clear my throat and take a step backward. “I’ll get them. You stay here and get set up.”
She nods her head, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she spins around, and I watch her ass walk away from me. I don’t know who the fuck the guy with her is, but he’s not leaving with her. In fact, she’s not leaving here until I’ve had her in my bed.
My decision has been made.
SHAWN
I’m finding it very hard to concentrate on arranging the table. I find it difficult because King watches me. I can feel his gaze on me. It hasn’t shifted once since I got here. My god, I forgot how hot he is. No, that’s not right. I didn’t forget, but I am far more affected than I thought I would be.
This is my third time seeing him, and I’m more flustered than I was last time. I try to focus on setting up my cupcakes, but I am so unnerved my hands are trembling. Maybe it’s because I’m in his domain, whatever this place is. I’ve been trying not to look around too much. I can feel people’s eyes on me, but none sear my skin the way his do.
The music grows louder as I continue to set things up. The people do, too, or there are just more of them. I’m not sure. I’m trying not to look around, trying not to make eye contact with anyone and just focus on my cupcakes, but as the music shifts, I can’t help but wonder exactly where I am and if maybe I shouldn’t be here.
Straightening my spine, I take in the table one last time before I spin around. When I do, I’m face to face with a gigantic man who is not only tall but packed with muscle. He’s massive. He looks down at me, his face set, and then his lips slowly curve up into a smile.
“I hear your cupcakes are the shit,” he says gruffly.
My lips twitch into a small smile, and I dip my chin. “I like to think they’re good,” I say, my voice barely loud enough to be heard over the music.
He takes a step forward, and my breath hitches, but it’s not because he takes the step forward. It’s because my eyes land on the patch on his chest. I haven’t been paying attention to my surroundings. I haven’t looked at any of the leather jackets around me, but I see it now.
Dark Horse MC
Oh. My. God.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before. I’ve been so mesmerized by King’s extreme hotness I wasn’t sure it was even real. I’ve never even seen these guys around, but I’ve heard rumors, and now I know they’re real.
Holy shit.
I’m not sure what to say, so I don’t say anything. He grabs a cupcake off the table and straightens. When he does, I force my eyes upward to meet his and try not to stare at the patch on his vest or anything else that’s happening around me.
I need to leave.
Then I realize why Stetson had been so damn excited about bringing me here. It wasn’t to help me. It’s because he knew where that address led. He wanted to see what this was about. He wanted a chance to be part of this. He wanted to party.
Jesus.
My fucking brother.
The man in front of me shoves the whole cupcake in his mouth, chewing it three times before he swallows, and I can’t help but laugh. He arches a brow, and I wonder if anyone has ever laughed at him before.
