Chapter 5 #2
But she won't meet my eyes. It's the first time I wonder if she knows who I am. I can't imagine she'd ever suspect what my real purpose is, but if she had any idea who I am… I’m not exactly sure how we’ll navigate this.
“Ride with me, then we’ll come back later to pick up your car. Deal?”
She nods. “Deal.”
I brought my McLaren, my fucking pride and joy, and parked it on the street outside the pub. I like a large car to support my large frame, but this beauty’s fast and it will make it easier to lose her bodyguard.
She whistles. “This is yours?”
“Aye,” I say with pride. “You like it?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
I smile bashfully. “Thank you.” I open the passenger door for her and she climbs into the passenger seat. I trot around to my side.
“Wow, this is bloody brilliant,” she says.
I snort. “I feel like the king of the fucking road.”
“Where are we going to eat?”
“Soirée.”
She gasps. “No. Seriously? It takes ages to get a reservation there.”
I shrug. “I pulled a few strings.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “That isn’t code for breaking a few legs, is it?”
I laugh out loud, and it startles her. She jumps at the sound.
“No,” I assure her, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
Not that I wouldn’t. Not if I had to, for a good reason.
She breathes more easily. “Okay, good. I can abide many things, but violence…” She winces.
She’s a tree-hugging vegetarian, daughter of the most brutal mobster in Scotland. Of course she doesn’t like violence. I’ll have to remember that.
“So tell me, Mac. How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“Two brothers.” It gets easier to say that over time. There was a time when I’d have answered three. “And two sisters.”
“My God, what a big family.”
“Aye. My mum’s got her work cut out for her. How about you?”
“Two older sisters and one younger brother.”
“So we’re both smack in the bullshit middle.”
She laughs. “Aye. Sentenced to hand-me-downs and oppressive parenting because they fear they’ll fuck us up like they did our older siblings.”
Jesus, there’s some truth to that.
“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “Agreed.”
“What’s your dad like?” She asks the question so unexpectedly, it takes me by surprise. Nobody ever wants me to talk about my dad, especially not someone who’s a rival. But right now, we're just two people on a date. At least if anything I've done has prepared us, that's all that we are.
“My dad was older when he had us, so he’s getting up there. Gray hair, difficulty hearing, and he’s got a terminal illness.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says.
I shrug. Sadly, my father’s done little to ever earn sympathy. “Don’t be. He does fine.”
“What’s he have?”
“Hodgkins. It worsens as he ages. He’s currently in remission, but not well.”
She frowns and nods. “But what’s his personality like?”
I shrug. “Domineering. Overbearing. He was a strict disciplinarian with me and my brothers. My sisters, not as much.”
She sighs. “Isn’t that funny. I think my own father was the opposite.”
Yes, Bryn. Our fathers are opposites in many ways.
“How so?”
She rolls her eyes. “He was ten times stricter with his daughters than his sons.”
Fucking bastard.
I reach for her hand and give her a squeeze. I try to make light of it.
“Don’t blame him,” I mutter. “If I had a daughter like you, I’d lock you up and never let you out of the house.”
She smiles. “That’s sweet.” She shakes her head. “But that isn’t the kind of strict he was.”
I wince. I shouldn’t feel sympathy for her, but goddamn, being the daughter of Banner Aitkens…
“Ah, he’s one of those.”
She sighs. “Yeah, one of those.”
“Do you get along?”
A shadow crosses her features for a moment. She shrugs. “Not really. But I don’t much care, either.”
“Guess we both have daddy issues.”
She snickers. “Aye.”
She’s indifferent to him, then. Does he care if something happens to her? He’d better. The whole crux of my plan is based on that. It isn't revenge at all if he doesn't care about her.
And maybe it's weak to admit, but a little part of me hopes that he doesn't care about her. Then I’d have an excuse to ditch my plan.
The way she fiddles with the hem of her dress makes me wonder if she’s scared of him. Of course she is. Anyone who knows Aitkens would be.
Jesus.
We’re only ten minutes away from the restaurant. She sits so close to me, her knee is just inches away from my hand. I let my hand fall to the side, closer to her leg, and gently brush one finger along her knee.
“You’re so soft,” I whisper. She shivers, and sidles a bit closer to me. Her legs part. Jesus.
“Thank you,” she says. “Though sadly, I train hard at the gym to avoid being soft, and it sounds like I’ve fucked that up.”
I chuckle and trace the outline of her knee with my finger while I take the road to the restaurant.
“I mean your skin,” I say softly. “Feels like silk.”
“Oh, does it?” she whispers back. “I think it’s especially soft by my…” she’s breathing rapidly, “inner thighs.”
I place my palm on her thigh and let my thumb casually slide to the warmth of her inner thigh.
“Christ,” I mutter. God, what I would do to her. I glance in my rearview mirror, and notice two bright headlights following behind me.
“Is he following us?” she whispers.
I nod. “Aye.”
“He’s an arsehole,” she whispers again. “Likes to boss me around like it’s the fucking Dark Ages.” She leans in closer to me, her hand on my thigh now, and mine on hers.
“Does he?” I shake my head. “Bloody eejit. Ought to be beaten for that.”
“Mmm,” she whispers, her legs parting. “I don’t know why it turns me on, the idea of you going all caveman Alpha for me like that… I just said I don’t like violence, too.”
Maybe because she’s never had anyone to look out for her. To protect her.
“Something tells me, Bryn, that you are fully capable of watching out for yourself.”
She nods, and swallows, as I switch lanes. I’m going to lose her bodyguard, and soon.
“I am,” she whispers, as I run my thumb along her inner thigh again.
“But tell me this, love,” I say softly. “Do you like the idea of someone taking care of you? You can have both, you know. You can be fully independent, take full care of yourself, and still enjoy it when someone else looks out for you.”
Her father treats her like a commodity. He protects her the way he protects a rare gem. Sets guards up around it and will kill anyone who comes near.
She shrugs. “I don’t know, Mac. I’d have to think on it. But if that person was you?” She smiles. “I may need less time to think.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that. Fucking adorable.
“So let’s ditch that bodyguard.”
She grins. “Let’s so ditch him.”
She's buckled in, and I trust myself to drive carefully, to not hurt her. I've been in a chase more than once when we needed to make a quick getaway. I'm always the one that drives. Adrenaline courses through me at the knowledge that we're about to take a joyride.
I look again through my rearview mirror. He's new, I remember being told. He doesn't know the city the way I do.
We’re coming up to a hairpin turn, and anyone who takes it too fast, or doesn't prepare for the sudden change, can easily lose control of the vehicle. Following this turn is a second one. I could have the guy go right off the cliff if I wanted to. I don't, I just need to lose him.
I turn the wheel so fast, for a split second we’re only on two wheels. Bryn gasps but doesn’t scream, and her hand on my leg tightens.
I can see her bodyguard gesturing at us, as his car can’t keep up with the swift and sudden change. Next, I drive up a small slope, then down again. I can see him behind us, but he’s now a fair distance away. If I plan this right, I’ll lose him at the next turn.
I take a sudden, short turn, tires squealing on pavement, when another car comes round the bend on its way toward us, just as we hit the main intersection.
I jet in front of him, thankful for the quick and easy pick-up.
Horns blare as we hear the screech of the car behind us stopping short, a natural barrier between us and her bodyguard.
There’s a blast of a horn behind us, her bodyguard likely pissed.
I look again through my rearview mirror. "We lost him."
“Oh my fucking God,” she says.
Did I scare her?
But the next moment, she’s pumping her fists in the air. “That was bloody brilliant! Woot! Oh my God, pull this car over, and I will literally fuck you on the spot, that was so damn sexy.”
She’s dancing in her seat like we just won the lottery, panting heavily, clearly excited.
“Jesus, woman,” I growl, my dick lengthening and tenting my pants.
Her eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed.
“We literally just lost him,” I say, shaking my head at her as I drive toward the road that takes us to the restaurant. “If I pull over to do bloody anything, we risk him finding us.”
“But that’s part of the appeal,” she says, shaking her head from side to side. “The danger of being found out. The threat of being discovered.”
I don’t fall for the temptation, but look in the rearview mirror.
She likes the excitement, the thrill. It turns her on.
I won’t forget that.
I wonder what she’ll think about her wrists being tied, a gag in her mouth, a blindfold across her eyes depriving her of sight. If she’s ready to fuck after a little car chase, how would she feel if I heightened her senses with deliberate, measured pain, and extended pleasure?
Fuck, she’s turned me on.
“You’re a naughty thing, aren’t you?” I mutter, shaking my head. “You like breaking the rules, do you?”
She places her hand on my thigh again. “Fucking love it.” She sighs.
“Good. I’ll remember that later when I’ve got you alone.”
“Remember what?”
I give her a quick, sidelong glance, then look back at the road. “Remember that you like breaking rules.” I reach my hand to the back of her neck and give her a little squeeze. “Do you also like to be punished for breaking the rules?”
I don’t miss her sharp intake of breath. “That depends.”
I nod slowly. “We’ll have to find that out, too. First, dinner.”
I decided after all I needed a place in town for tonight. William’s secured me a safe flat in town, a little rental.