Raw and Dirty(15)

“Royal,” Tattoo Girl whines and I want to hit her so hard right then that I have to clench my hands into fists by my sides. “She—”

“It's not my job to police this shit. If you want to cause trouble, go do it elsewhere,” he snaps, what little patience he has falling away like it was never there. Whoa. Scary. With tears sparkling in her eyes, Tattoo Girl turns and runs up the steps and into the clubhouse.





With everything going on in my life, I don't need a distraction, especially not one handpicked and sent to screw me over from the mayor's office. It's like the bloody bastard knew what his daughter would do to me. One day in and my head's already gone to shit.

“Are you okay?” I ask, trying not to grit my teeth. Christ. Mia and I have had some good times, but what the hell got into her? We're not nor have we ever been any sort of serious; she knows that.

Not that Lyric and I are either.

I tell myself that my concern for the girl is purely selfish, looking out for the best interests of the club. What happens if the mayor's daughter goes back to the office and says one of the club's groupies jumped her in broad daylight? Not good publicity for any of us. And now with this whole mess of shit that's going on with our shipment, I can't deal with a cherry on top of my crap sundae.

“Lyric?”

“I'm fine,” she says as she glances over her shoulder and finds a group of soccer moms gawking at her from the auto yard. They're here to get their minivans serviced and flirt with the boys in black. It's a win-win for all of us. “Just fine.” She glances down at her knees, at the torn nude tights I hadn't even realized she was wearing. Blood and grit sticks in her wounds like it's glued there.

“Royal?”

It's Dober, drawing my attention back to him and the, uh, situation that's sprung up suddenly and unexpectedly.

“Have Glacier deal with it,” I snap and then glance over at the clubhouse. “But first, have him take Mia home. And let her know it's okay to take a little holiday from the compound.”

Dober raises his dark bushy brows, but he doesn't say anything. Smart move on his part.

“You don't have to do that,” Lyric says, swiping her hands down her dusty suit. “I'm not pressing charges.”

“Pressing charges?” Mad as I am, even I find that funny. A laugh escapes my throat as I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. Her first thought is cops and court. I guess in a way mine was, too. But in my world, a fistfight generally isn't a big deal. People have problems; people fight them out. But in this, I have to take a stand. Mayor's daughter … Mayor's anything is off-limits right now. Even for me.

“Do you have a bathroom or something where I could clean up?” Lyric asks and I nod, looking down at her, at the slight purple swelling around her eyes. They're as green as the trees soaring above us. And why the fuck did I even notice that?

“I'll show you the way.” I nod my head, running my tongue across my lower lip. I can still taste her on my mouth, like honey and wildflowers. Goddamn it. There I go again with metaphors. Not generally my thing. My boys would whip my ass if they knew the thoughts going through my head right now.

“You sure you don't want me to call the cops?” Lyric's sister asks, but I don't bother to turn around. My boys will make damn sure she doesn't—and they'll do it in the nicest way possible. A little flirtation never hurt anyone, right?

“It's fine, Kailey. I'll be right back. Just … wait for me, okay?”

I move across the deck and hold the door open for Lyric, a small smile teasing my lips as she scoots around me, very careful not to touch.

“I don't bite—hard,” I whisper as I follow in behind her and she jumps. “Not unless you want me to.”

“Just show me where the bathroom is, please.” Lyric shoves her loose hair over her shoulder and then pauses, reaching out a small, delicate hand towards me. My cock hardens in response. Eh, I think it was already halfway there anyway. Even the cold shock of Dober's news couldn't completely douse the fire this girl started in me. “My clip, too, thanks.”

I unhook her hair clip from my pocket and drop it in her outstretched palm, using the movement to wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug her towards me. I'm not even sure why I'm doing it. Lyric Rentz is a pretty girl … no, more than pretty. She's curvy and feminine and soft with big eyes and long lashes, full lips and a whole hell of a lot of spirit.

And she's forbidden fruit.

Makes me want her all that much more.

“Let go of me, you … wanker,” she says and then cringes as I laugh at her, releasing her wrist as I take a step back. Her eyes wander down and then pause on the bulge in my pants. She glances away suddenly, pretending not to notice. But I do. I can see her nipples hardening beneath that hideous blue shirt of hers.