I'm Only Here for the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #4)(16)

My father pushed through the crowd, a big grin on his face when he saw Naomi at my side.

"Naomi," I took her by the arm and turned her gently around to face my father. "This is Big Papa, the president of the Alabama chapter of the Dixie Wardens MC and my father."



       
         
       
        

Naomi took the man in for a few long moments before she offered her hand to him.

"It's nice to finally meet you." She shook his hand. "Sean has a lot to say about you."

Dad's mouth quirked up at the corner. "I notice that you aren't saying that he has good things to say about me."

Naomi's mouth thinned into a line as she bit her lip. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Dad laughed.

"It's nice to finally meet you as well. Sean really has had nothing but nice things to say about you."

Naomi looked at me with a flare of excitement in her eyes. "Well of course he has! I'm a perfect angel."

That's when the UPS driver pulled up in front of our house.

I turned, wondering what my father had ordered, when I saw a flash of curly, blond hair making a mad dash for the truck.

Then a thought occurred to me.

"That better not be what I think it is!" I bellowed at the woman who was taking the big box from the driver's hands and jiggling it excitedly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Naomi laughed as she dropped the box to the grass just past the road, dug into her pocket to pull out what appeared to be an EMT's pocket knife, complete with tactical shears, and easily cut the box open.

"Don't you dare," I warned her.

Naomi batted her eyes at me innocently.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she repeated.

Then she pulled out the fucking stool thing that she'd told me about a few days before when she read the description aloud to me.

"I thought you said you needed my address," I replied neutrally, hoping like hell that she didn't show off the item to everyone currently watching her like she was an amusement show. Also hoping that she didn't let everyone know about my unusually long bathroom habits.

I was, of course, unhappy to see that she did pull out the item. Then launch into a long, drawn out discussion about my less than ideal shit times.

"So, this all started when I began working with Sean a few weeks ago. He takes forever to … you know." She grinned at Imogen who'd walked up and taken the step like contraption from my woman's hands. "And so I Googled 'things to help you poop,' and came up with this beauty."

"What is that?" my dad asked as he walked over, too.

"It's called the 'Squatty Potty.' It was on Shark Tank, and it is supposed to help make it more comfortable and quicker when you … errrrmmm … poop." 

I was now thoroughly convinced that I needed to spank her.

I wasn't talking about a purely pleasurable little spanking either, although I'm sure that with my hand on her ass, it would definitely turn into that.

I probably needed to do something to shut that mouth of hers up, too. Possibly involving my dick. Or maybe just her face shoved into the pillows while I fucked her hard from behind would work. That way I could keep a good hold on the back of her head to be sure that she couldn't move from where I'd placed her.

This, of course, was my inner caveman talking.

I didn't actually want to do any of that … oh, who am I kidding. All of those things sounded incredibly appealing.

Especially when she handed the Squatty Potty over to my father and ordered him to 'put it where Sean poops.'

I rolled my eyes heavenward, and Truth, my club brother and a really good friend, came up to my side and slapped me on the back. "Women are awesome, aren't they?"

"Very," I drawled sarcastically. "Is there any reason that you can come up with for why I should refrain from spanking her ass? You teach baby cops to become big cops. Any laws that I should be concerned about?"

Truth snorted. "A few, but I'll cover you, and I know a few guys who'll play ignorant."

I grunted in reply and walked over to Naomi, offering her my hand. "I'll be talking to you about this later. In the meantime, we have a deadline to get to the smokehouse, otherwise they'll all turn around, and we'll miss the ride."

Naomi grinned widely at me. "Yes, Sir."

The way she said 'sir' had my cock straining against the seam of my pants again as I pushed down the urge to pull her into my arms and slam my mouth onto hers.

I didn't do either of those things. Instead, I bit my lip and curled my hand around her small bicep, thinking that God clearly was torturing me for some reason.