Chapter 1 #2
“Or your boy was attempting to protect his Daddy and got burned in the process,” Danger pointed out.
“He’d burn the world to the ground for you and Kat, whether you want him to or not.
It might be out of turn to say it, but if things had turned out differently, you’d all be praising him, not treating him like a pariah. ”
“Kong said something along the same lines not too long ago.”
“Might be time you listened, then, since I’m not the only one who sees it.”
“If you see so much, then why are you refusing to see what Roan needs?” Mark asked, flipping the script on Danger and taking them right back to the conversation they’d been having when Teddy had rushed in. “Or maybe you’re still hung up on what you need and won’t ask for.”
“When you already know what the answer is, what’s the point in…” Danger began only to be cut off.
“You think you know, but you won’t talk to him, and he only talks to you when he has to,” Mark pointed out.
“Which tells me neither of you have put it behind you. Now, since you saw fit to give me your unsolicited advice, here’s a bit from me to you.
Patch things up with Pope and get him onboard with helping you train Roan, since he’s already offered to step in. ”
“Wait…when the fuck did that happen?”
“After Roan planted himself in Kong’s lap and asked if he’d like to turn his four-way into five,” Mark replied. “He got shoved to the floor for his troubles, in case you were wondering. Not by Kong, but by Scout, who took offense at having another boy in his Daddy’s lap.”
“Like you said, he’s a scrapper; if he gets into it with someone, it’s for him to work out,” Danger grumbled.
Mark banged his fist on the table, jarring Danger out of some of his surliness.
“He wouldn’t be getting into it with anyone if he didn’t feel like you only offered to train him so you’d have a glorified gopher to race around town, picking up all the paperwork so you could spend more time in the office sorting it out.
We both know it’s so you don’t feel the need to skip out on a ride to play catchup, which I can appreciate, but he needs to be getting something out of it all too.
If you can’t give him that, find someone who will. Consider that last part an order.”
“Yes, sir,” Danger replied, much the way Teddy had earlier.
Nothing more needed to be said when the Prez was issuing instructions.
“Alright, leave these here with me, and I’ll catch you up when I hear from Teddy,” Mark said, gesturing to the paperwork spread out over his desk.
“And be ready to ride in the morning, regardless of what’s finished or not.
Make sure Roan is with you when it’s time for kickstands up and keep him next to you tomorrow so he doesn’t go startin’ shit with anyone.
I see so much as a batted eyelash out of him, and it’s going to be your ass I come looking for, got it? ”
“Yeah, Prez, I read you loud and clear,” Danger said as he stood. “I’ll make sure he’s on his best behavior.”
“See that you do,” Mark replied before Danger hurried out the door.
If he was going to have any hope of making sure Roan didn’t get into anything before morning, he’d have to find something to keep him busy with, and right now, having him in the office would just be a distraction.
It was too tempting to offer him a lap to sit on and sort through the remainder of the papers cluttering up his desk while carding his fingers through mud-brown strands worn long and ragged, pulled back in a ponytail down the center of his back.
For someone whose first language seemed to be snark and sinful suggestions, he had a soft mouth on him that begged to be kissed again.
The way those lips had parted, pressed against his, had left Danger hard and aching.
Until he’d recalled how many others in the clubhouse Roan had tried that seductive shit on.
Danger had pulled away and ordered Roan to head out to factory row and pick up the receipts from the new shops the club had set up there.
Unfortunately, there was nothing that needed retrieving today.
When he returned to his office, Roan was seated on the pillow beside his chair where Danger had left him, entering the contents of an old school Rolodex into a computer spreadsheet. Judging from the look of the cracked plastic container, he’d almost completed his task.
“As soon as you’re done with that, I need you to head outside and get our bikes ready for the ride tomorrow,” Danger declared, “and I’d better be able to see my face in the chrome when you’re through.”
“They’ll be gleaming by the time I’m done,” Roan promised. “No other bike is gonna outshine them.”
Groaning, Danger dropped into his chair and yanked a bottle of vodka out of the mini fridge. He didn’t bother with a glass, just took a few swigs straight from the bottle to keep from snapping at him.
Had he asked for the bikes to shimmer brighter than any of the others?
No, but Roan was already turning it into a competition, which nine times out of ten, led to him getting into some bullshit or shooting off that cocky mouth of his.
“Do me a favor while you’re out there and stay focused on the job I gave you,” Danger told him.
“Mark said you’re riding with us tomorrow; that doesn’t mean you won’t be doing it with a sore ass if you piss me off.
If I hear one complaint about you from anybody, you will scrub the bathrooms until the tile is clean enough to eat off. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Roan replied, meeting his gaze over the index card he held in his hand. “Is there gonna be a bonfire afterward?”
“Unless Mother Nature deems otherwise.”
“Can I sit with you?”
“You will be glued to my side,” Danger declared. “I don’t want you more than two steps away from me even if you’ve gotta take a piss.”
Danger didn’t expect to see Roan’s eyes light up the way they did or the brief smile that made it seem like he was entirely too pleased with himself about something.
Had that little shit seriously been running around making mischief so he’d wind up leashed to Danger?
If so, then Roan was about to cost him a hundred bucks when the Prez proved to be right about the reason he was constantly stirring up shit.
“I can do that,” Roan replied.
Danger appraised him thoroughly, from the too-tight t-shirt to the rhythmic way he finished entering the information into the spreadsheet and immediately fed the index card through the shredder positioned beside him.
When he’d offered Roan use of the table in the far corner of the room, the younger man had insisted that he’d be just fine on the cushion he’d placed beside Danger’s chair, a fact that had instantly irked him.
Was it where he’d have put his boy when they were working together so he could touch him as often as he’d like and order him under the desk for a bit of therapeutic cock warming while he worked?
Hell yeah it was.
But Roan wasn’t his boy. Roan offered himself to every Dom and Daddy in the club, whether they already had submissives or not. It was like he wanted to be passed around. Used. Which wasn’t something Danger had any desire to witness.
In the end, it was Roan’s body; he could offer it to whoever he wanted to.
Hell, it wasn’t as if Danger had never shared before.
Once, he’d been the one sprawled out across the Rollin’ Jokers emblem on the Chapel table, a feast adorning his body as he’d lain there like a slab of wood through a long, somewhat boring meeting.
Pope had praised him for how well he’d maintained his position, never twitching, never reacting to the caresses, pinches, or other attention he received from the club members as they retrieved their food, a few choosing to use their teeth to pluck it from his skin and their tongues to clean up the crumbs.
Yet the only touch he’d craved had been Pope’s.
The last thing Danger wanted was to tie Roan to him that way, not if it meant leaving him with the same emptiness, the same longing, and the same regrets as Danger carried with him more than a decade after the fact.
Because it sucked, goddamnit. It fucking sucked.
And he hated every day he had to live with what he’d done.