Big Daddy Page 7

  “I got places to be,” she says matter-of-factly. “Kidnapping or no, I’m getting down there.”

  She promptly wraps her arms around my torso just like they’d been before, and I raise an eyebrow at her in my mirror before giving a slow nod.

  “Alright, trooper,” I grunt. “If you insist.”

  We head off again, and this time, I don’t even bother putting her hands in mine. I trust her not to jump off the bike, and she at least proved that she wants to prove that she can handle my trust, that much is clear. She knows she can get what she wants from me as long as she plays ball. If that means she’s cooperating instead of fighting me every step, I won’t complain.

  When we finally reach the address, I have to say, it looks cuter in person than I expected. It’s a simple but tidy, boxy house in a quaint suburb where I doubt they get so much as a noise complaint here.

  As expected, Tank is waiting for us at the window when we pull up, and he has the door open for us as I lead Juliette to it, not letting her off my hand. I’m not trusting her that much.

  “Hey hey, good or bad timing, depending,” Tank says as he steps into the doorway, pointedly standing in front of it before Juliette can try to rush past him. “Pam’s asleep. She felt cozy after the brunch I fixed up, so she’s snoozing in the armchair.”

  “Oh thank god,” Juliette breaths, but she doesn’t look relieved yet. “Can I see her?”

  Tank looks to me, and I nod, so he steps aside and lets me lead her in. She makes her way to the entry of the living room and sticks her head in, with me right behind her.

  Juliette’s mom is sleeping soundly on the sofa, the remnants of brunch, and a half-empty glass of water on the table beside her. There’s a peaceful and satisfied look on her face as her chest rises and falls, and Juliette watches her closely for a few moments, her eyes attentive.

  Finally, I see her take a deep breath after Pam stirs in her sleep, and Juliette closes her eyes for a moment, tension washing away briefly before she looks back up at me and nods, swallowing. The three of us step back outside, and Tank leans on the doorframe after closing the door behind us.

  “Wait,” she says, eyes suddenly going wide. “I know why that was too quiet. Where’s the dog?”

  Tank quietly points up to one of the windows, where a little dog is standing up on its hind legs, staring intently at the lot of us downstairs.

  “In time out on Pam’s orders, but I told her to go easy. We may or may not get along alright. I’m a dog person, what can I say?” Tank says with a shrug of his shoulders.

  Juliette takes a deep breath, then looks up to me, not with a smile, but with a hard, searching gaze. “Thank you,” she says at last, letting her face soften. “I don’t know what I was expecting from all this, but you’re...doing a hell of a lot more than I’d expect any ordinary kidnapper to do, I have to admit,” she says, cracking a smile.

  “And I wouldn’t be doing any of it if I didn’t think there was a real chance you could get hurt,” I say, nodding slowly. “And we’re not out of the woods yet, so get back on the bike.”

  “Drive safe, you two,” Tank says sarcastically, waggling his fingers after us.

  “And thank you too,” she says as she follows me to the bike, but her tone is more warning than anything. “But you take good care of her, you hear me? If my mom complains once, I’ll hear about it, and I’m coming for you.”

  “Jesus, Big Daddy, sure she’s the one who got kidnapped?” Tank says, grinning at Juliette as she gets on the bike behind me.

  “Oh she’s mine alright,” I growl, oddly proud of her. “If you can’t handle her, that’s your problem.”

  My engine roars, and we speed off down the road with Juliette’s arms wrapped tight around me. To my surprise, I feel her closer than before--her whole body hugs me as I steer us toward the highway, and my heart starts to race as my cock starts to swell between my legs. She’s not just hanging on, she’s holding, and the difference feels like night and day.

  Juliette sticks up for the people she cares about with a sharp tongue, and I’ve gotta say, it’s kind of hot to see her use it. She didn’t take shit from Diesel the day we met, and she’s only gotten better at it over the years, by the sounds of it.

  There are so many ways I want to get to know her, and none of the opportunity. But maybe we did have some kind of opportunity ahead of us, now that I thought about it.

  “I’m taking a detour,” I shout back at as I take a different exit to head northward. “We’re stopping by the clubhouse on the way back.”

  “The what?” she asks.

  “It’s our base of operations,” I say. “More importantly, it’s got a bar. I’m buying you a drink.”

  She doesn’t reply with words, but after a few seconds of contemplative silence, I feel her get more comfortable back there, and the rest of the road to Pine Haven feels so much more relaxed than the drive down that I can almost forget we aren’t out on a date.

  When I step through the bar to the downstairs clubhouse, I’m grateful to see that none of the senior members of the club are around right now. The clubhouse has the kind of biker look and smell that anyone could recognize from a mile away, but the downstairs has a special sort of speakeasy vibe that I’d never admit I’ve always wanted to show off to someone special. The clubhouse was a special place for me, and I couldn’t think of a better way to be seen with her for the first time.

  There were plenty of prospects around, after all, and gossip spread fast.

  “Are you...someone important in this club?” she asks with growing surprise as she looks around us.

  “Hn?” I grunt, following her gaze, and then I notice what she’s seeing. There are pictures of the core four of us--Breaker, Bones, Ironside, and me--all over the damn place. And then there’s my name, listed under the officers, and the word ENFORCER is emblazoned next to it.

  “Oh,” I say. “Nah. I just do my job.”

  “And what’s an enforcer’s job?” she asks, looking up at me with the kind of curiosity that tells me she knows it probably isn’t pretty.

  “I enforce,” I decide to say simply as we reach the bar, and the bartender is already making his way over to us. I look to Juliette, then crack a smile. “Remember what you got last time you were here?” I ask.

  “Gin and tonic,” she says, rolling her eyes with a smile. “It was nasty, I don’t know why I thought I’d like it. But the second drink was a rum and cola, and I liked that.”

  “Thought you might,” I say, and the bartender is already making it before I have to nod to him.

  Juliette notices the fact that the prospects around the clubhouse tend to give us some privacy, or as some might have called it, a wide berth.

  “Are people like me usually not down here or something?” she whispers to me as the bartender sets her drink in front of her and my usual straight bourbon in front of me.

  “You mean women or civilians?” I grunt. “Because we got plenty of both. We’re not what you’d call traditional. Breaker’s girl is who designed this whole place down here.”

  “You’re kidding,” she says, genuinely in disbelief.

  “What, did you think I was making up everything I told you about what kind of bikers we are?” I ask.

  “Yeah-huh,” she says bluntly.

  We stare at each other for a few silent moments, then I can’t hold the smile off my face any longer, and we let ourselves laugh quietly and turn to our drinks while she tries to keep me from noticing the blush in her cheeks.

  “Thanks for the drink,” she says, more sincerely. “Again.”

  “Hope it’s a better experience than last time,” I say, raising my glass to hers.

  “I’ll drink to that with my own kidnapper, sure,” she says matter of factly, and she clinks her glass to mine.

  After we take a long drink, she sets hers back down and looks to me earnestly. “So...you’ve got me behind enemy lines, a drink in my hand, and as far as I know, nobody knows I’m really gone
yet,” she says, swirling her drink around and looking up at me with remarkably calm defiance, despite how powerless she surely knows she is here. “Isn’t this the part where you bring up the wedding again?”

  “Looks like all I had to do was wait for you,” I point out coolly.

  “You know who my brother is, you don’t think I’m used to bikers dishing out orders at me?” she says, smirking with bravado that I can’t help but admire. “I just want to know what to expect.”

  “Those are the words of someone who’s used to handling some real shit,” I observe.

  She waves it off as if I hadn’t said a thing. “The whole reason I’m down here is to handle some real shit. And apparently, I just can’t seem to do that, either,” she goes on with a self-deprecating laugh that makes me frown. “That was the most peaceful that house has been since I pulled up. Figures, maybe me getting kidnapped was better for Mom after all.”

  “You didn’t know you were stepping into a warzone,” I say firmly. “You can’t blame yourself for wanting to help your mom.”

  “I just picked a bad time to start,” she says, raising her eyebrows. “I can only worry so much on each relative, you know.”

  There it is, I think to myself as the bartender brings our second round. That’s why the idea of the wedding isn’t a total brick wall for her. She’s seen the club, she knows we may well be the people we say we are--and I’m at the very least legitimate.

  She’s starting to come around to the fact that a wedding might really be a solid option to stop the war.

  “Well, since you mentioned it,” I say with a teasing smile. “What would your ideal wedding look like?”

  She blinks, then nearly spits her drink out laughing. “Tied up on the back of a motorcycle getting taken to Nowhere, Wyoming, and having a honeymoon in a creepy cabin in the woods, obviously.”

  “Careful joking like that,” I growl through a smile. “We can make that happen all too easy.”

  She looks like she wants to throw a comeback at me, but something makes her regard me thoughtfully before tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear and tilting her head to the side.

  “So you really are serious? You think this could keep my brother out of trouble?” she asks, hiding how she feels about that thought very well in the tone of her voice.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “All I can do is hope. He’s your brother, and if there’s one thing bikers respect, it’s bonds. We’re tight like this because we’re families, us MCs. Breaker, Tank, they’re people I’ve learned to look at like my own brothers. I grew up in an orphanage, so family’s one thing I’ll always make, and I look out for family.”

  I say it all without much ceremony, because they’re all simple facts. But Juliette watches me the entire time with a thoughtful, almost puzzled look on her face.

  “You’re doing better than me, so I can admire that,” she says with a smile, and I return it.

  “There’s another reason Breaker might be interested in this wedding, too,” I say. “I won’t lie to you. A while ago one of our guys, Bones, fought this asshole named Brandon who tried to put something in a girl’s drink. That girl’s name is Lauren, and they’re together now, but that’s another story. Brandon’s a veteran with a senator dad, and they’re giving the town hell for it--and that hurts us.”

  “And a wedding would help your image,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

  “Bingo.”

  She doesn’t look at me the same way she did when we left this morning. She’s looking at me like someone who has something to bring to the table for her in the same way she can solve a lot of problems for our club. And that’s the kind of person who will bargain.

  “Think it over on the ride home,” I say, tossing back the rest of my drink. “That’s all I’ll say for now.”

  As I lead her up and out of the bar, there are eyes on us, and they’re both amused and interested. I have a reputation as someone who says little and does my talking with my hands. I’m not the type to open up like I did back there. Shit, I don’t even know what got into me. I can’t shake the feeling like I’ve been waiting longer than it feels like to talk to her, and I’ve never felt that before.

  “Hey,” she says, stopping me as we reach the porch and start to head to the parking lot. “By the way...thanks for not throwing me under the bus with your friend Tank earlier. I wasn’t expecting backup, I was just giving him a hard time.”

  I smile, and maybe it’s the buzz I’m still feeling from the conversation more than any booze, which hasn’t touched me in the slightest, but the desire I’ve been feeling for Juliette building up in our time together reaches a peak as I see her under the pale sunset light.

  “As long as you’re with me,” I say, “you can mouth off to anyone you goddamn like, girl.”

  “Even you?” she asks with a challenging smile, and I meet it, taking a step forward that almost takes her by surprise--almost.

  “You want to find out?” I growl, reaching around to run my fingers into her hair. She doesn’t stop me as I wrap it around my fingers and curl it into a fist. Her cheeks blush a bright red as I tilt her head back, and I press a kiss to her lips.

  My heart thuds heavily as I push her back into the lamppost and hold her against me while her hands grasp my kutte. She doesn’t just return my kiss, she leans into it with a fiery energy that feels every bit as pissed off as it is turned on. I can’t help but smile into the kiss, and that just pisses her off more.

  Fuck, she must have been more wound up than I thought. Not like she did a good job of hiding it. I gripped her ass and pulled it toward me, grinding our hips together, and I felt the warmth of her body against my own hardness. She moved as if she was electrified, desperate to feel me as my tongue brushed against hers, and we melted into making out shamelessly under the setting sun.

  People saw. We were conspicuous. It was perfect. And we didn’t have to do a scrap of acting to make it happen. If this was how her body was reacting, then I was going to strike while the iron was hot.

  “Let’s get you home,” I growl. “I’m starting to think you like getting yanked around like this.”

  “Fuck you,” she hisses, and I take her back to the bike.

  The ride home under the moonlight is a dream, and she doesn’t even object when I have to slip the blindfold back over her eyes.

  After getting home, my heart is still pounding as I lead her inside and let her get ready for bed. As she climbs into the sheets and sees that I’m holding the handcuffs again, ready to restrain her to the bed to make sure she doesn’t pull another stunt like the motorcycle incident, she bites her lip.

  “It’s got to happen, girl,” I growl, even though I’ve got a smile on my face.

  “I...I know,” she says. “But aren’t you cold at night?”

  “Huh?” I grunt.

  “I’m freezing under these sheets,” she says, bunching them up as she curls her legs under them. “And I hate that you just have to deal with the couch.”

  I want to tease her, but what I hear under her words is unmistakable, and it touches my heart in a way I am not expecting. I run a hand over my head as I stand up and slip my kutte off as she looks up at me with glimmering dark eyes.

  Wordlessly, I kneel down in the bed beside her, and although I’m ready to lay on my back away from her, she immediately curls into me, pushing her butt against my thigh and shivering. I can’t bring myself to do anything but wrap my arms around her, and I reach up to the bedpost and click the handcuffs onto her.

  She swallows, looking up at it and then back down to me. I realize that I can feel her heart pounding under my hands, and I realize just how aware she is of the fact that I’ve got her more than helpless here. She’s not a girl who’s used to not having control in a situation, or at least being able to strive for it. I can feel so much goddamn tension in her back that it makes me ache. I’d almost dare say she likes the feeling of me holding her so vulnerably like this.

  I’m a quiet man, b
ut I’m not stupid. I’ve gotten to know Juliette enough to see why the thought of giving up a little control might be...appealing, in a special way. If that’s how she feels, then it’s only my duty to oblige.

  “Do you know what you’re asking for, girl?” I growl, slowly sliding my hands up her side, slow enough for her to stop me if she truly wants.

  “Yes,” she whispers, a syllable that makes my cock twitch and swell.

  “Do you want it?” I say in a rumbling, low voice. “Do you want me to help you relax, Juliette? I can feel what’s good for you. I’ve been feeling it all damn day.”

  “Show me, Daddy,” she says in a soft, almost begging voice, ashamed of herself for uttering it.

  I’m going to reward her for it.

  I slide my hand down between her legs and under the fabric of her underwear while my other goes up her shirt. She doesn’t stop me.

  “Safe word,” I growl.

  “Burger,” she whispers.

  “Hungry?” I grunt curiously as my hand cups her breast.

  “Fuck you,” she hisses, and I grin as I touch her clit. “Oh!”

  The gasp is music to my ears as I slowly start to circle two fingers around what I find to be a wet pussy. I slide the tips of my fingers further into her, then draw them back out and bring them to my lips before I press a kiss to her neck. I can hear her panting breathing quick and hot, and her nipple is stiff under my thumb.

  My cock is hard as a rock, too, and the blood pounding through my massive frame wants nothing more than to claim the girl who’s been haunting my dreams for years. But tonight, she just needs help sleeping, and I want to make her feel the kind of relaxation I’ve wanted to bring her for so long.

  I concentrate on swirling my fingers around on the swollen button of her clit, and I feel her writhe against me with a mouth hanging open. Her breathing becomes a heavy panting, and she bites her lip and whimpers, a sound that wrenches my heart and makes it even harder not to tear the sheets off and let her feel what she’s doing to me.

  Instead, I channel that hunger into tormenting that poor clit.

  As I feel her getting closer to her orgasm, I slow down, change the rhythm, and get her to start over again. She can feel me doing it, and I love those frustrated little groans when she realizes that I’m tormenting her.