Chapter 14
BOBBY
“If you’re the bad boy of my fantasy, what am I in yours?” Ever sticks her arms in the sleeves and tugs her hair out from inside the jacket.
This woman and her questions continue to surprise me. She’s not asking how much of my money she can spend in a day, or which one-hundred-grand sports car she can buy next. Ever is after what will bring us both pleasure.
I hold on to the helmet and wait for her to twist her hair into a knot on top of her head. When she’s done, I put the helmet on her. “You’re my submissive.” The visor is up. Her eyes widen.
Shock, fear, and curiosity chase across her face. I secure the strap on the helmet. My fingers brush the underside of her chin. She trembles. It’s so slight I would’ve missed her desire had I not been touching her.
“Does that work for you, sweetness?”
“If it doesn’t?”
I bypass her question. “What scares you?”
She avoids looking at me. “You want control in every facet of my life.”
I don’t want to control her life. It’s not about what clothes I want her to wear, what music she should listen to, or who she’s allowed to speak with. I want her to relinquish to me what a man should do for his woman.
Open the car door. Walk on the sidewalk on the street side. Feed her. Do a store run for pads or tampons. Bring her a care package of snacks, a heating pad, and meds for when she’s on her period.
Give her aftercare after doing the dirty deed. Threaten any guy with bodily harm if he disrespects her in any way. Give her a shoulder to cry on. Have her come first and multiple times before I shoot my load. Protect her at all costs. These are the things I want her to give me control over.
Ever is strong, but I want her to know she can lean on me, and I’ll be there to hold her up on those difficult days.
“You didn’t answer my question.” I cross my arms and lean in.
Or else, I’ll kiss her in the parking lot, and I’m not a PDA kind of guy.
I prefer my life to be private. “What scares you, baby?” I drop my voice to a low growl.
“No one gets to hurt you. Not even a spider.” Spiders scare the fuck out of me, but I’ll carry one in my hand and set the little thing outdoors to protect my woman.
I earn a small smile from her before she tips her cute chin at me and glowers. “You didn’t answer mine.”
I grasp the helmet’s lip and tug until she’s forced to look at me and feel the heat from my body as I step into her space. I tower over her, asserting my dominance for giving me attitude. But damn, her attitude gets me rock hard.
“Let me restate my question and you tell me whether you still need me to answer yours.” I put my face near hers so that my eyes are all she’s seeing.
Ever digs my eyes. When she turned and faced me at Crimson, her eyes went to mine, and they widened with surprise, followed by curiosity, then deep interest. Fuck yeah, I’ll use the unique color of my eyes to my advantage.
“What scares you about giving up control to me?” I’ll keep asking until she tells me.
“You’re not speaking about sex anymore.”
Ever is smart. “No, baby.”
She narrows her eyes. “What if I want to take back any control I give you?”
Give and not relinquish. Ever keeps me on my toes, and I like it. A lot.
“You give up something in return. That is my rule, sweetness. You agreed, remember?”
“What did other women ask for? What happened when they said no to being your submissive?”
“What did I say about other women?” I don’t give her a chance to answer. This part is non-negotiable. “You are mine. There is no woman before you. You are and have been the only woman in my life. Do you understand?” I tighten my grip on the lip so that she has no choice but to answer with words.
Ever surprises me again with her attitude. Then again, why am I surprised? Part of her appeal is the side of her that challenges and pushes my limits.
“I’d like to know.” Her hands go to her hips.
I’m not giving in to her. Don’t want that shit taking up her headspace. I understand what it’s like to have that kind of torture living in my head.
Believe me, I’ve pictured Jules pleasuring the guys she cheated on me with.
Thought that in every vehicle I passed that fit the description of what Dom had given me, I’d find Jules and the bastard in it.
That kind of jealousy and possessiveness fucked with my mind, and no way in hell will I let Ever go through what I did.
“Knowing went out the door when you said you’re my girl.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair isn’t me, babe.” Life is unfair. I walked out on my own off C-17s while my fallen comrades were carried out in coffins. Now that’s fucking unfair. They had families who gave a shit. I’m an unwanted bastard. Yeah, life is fucking unfair.
“Would you freely speak about the guys you were with before me?” I challenge.
But my attempt at a tit for tat backfires.
Murderous rage hits me like a blast wave from a C-4.
I rein it in, surprised. Stomped-on pride, disbelief, hurt—those were the emotions that took over my life when I found out from Dom about Jules cheating.
But this rage from left field to demolish a guy’s body with my fists before I point-blank shoot him between the eyes for touching my woman? I’ve never felt anything like it.
Fuck.
Ever shakes her head.
“Why’s that?” I should drop this line of questioning. My anger rises again at having to hear her talk about the guys before me.
“Talking about them would be disrespectful.”
Her ability to defuse my anger with words fucks with my mind more than the jealousy from out of nowhere. In the past, I struggled to control my anger. I punched walls until my knuckles cracked open and my hands swelled. Drove my damn Ducati too fast. Drank my rage into oblivion.
To hear words that bring me down from my rage in seconds to this eerie calm . . . I let go of the helmet’s lip and palm the sides. “Thank you, sweetness.”
“For what?”
“For considering my feelings and respecting what we have. It means a lot to me.” Respect and consideration were what I lacked from Jules.
Ever glances up at me. I stare back. It’s after four.
The parking lot isn’t busy. Foot traffic in the strip mall containing the bakery is light.
The noise from the traffic behind us is the only thing that cuts through the silence, except for our breathing and the steady thump, thump, thump of my heartbeats in my ears.
“Ask your question, Ever.” I see it on her face.
She blows out a breath. “Would you change your flight to Monday and spend tomorrow with me? I don’t work, and my unofficial bodyguard is helping his grandmother in Montgomery.”
“What would you give up?” I drop a kiss on the bridge of her nose.
She scrunches her face, looking adorable as fuck. “Like something I own?”
“I’m after possession and not possessions. Are we clear?”
She nods.
“What are you willing to give up that you’ve never given to anyone else?”
Seconds go by before she answers. When she does, she surprises me again.
“I’ll give up my happiness if you delay your flight until Monday.”
No one has ever given up their happiness for me. Not my mother or my father, and definitely not my half-brothers. They’re happy I’m not welcomed by their mother and wouldn’t give up an ounce of the emotion to help me understand what kind of woman stays with a cheater.
I wasn’t surprised when I was put through the same predicament. Stay with a cheater or leave and cut all ties. Leaving wasn’t as easy as I thought it’d be. I hung on and rationalized to myself that Jules’s cheating was a one-time thing. She’d hurt me and destroyed my trust in her.
Jules begged me to take her back, and I did, believing her guilt would stop her from making the same mistake. It didn’t. When I stopped hurting and felt nothing was the day I walked away and cut all ties.
But my father’s wife, Genevieve Bliss, hadn’t walked away. Was it because Branson learned from his mistake and regained her trust? Is that the reason she stayed with my father after she realized she and my mother were pregnant with Branson’s kids? Forgive and move on?
Except I can’t shake the feeling there’s another kid out there. I shelf the suspicion to consider later and return my attention to the beautiful woman in front of me. “You sure? Giving up your happiness for time with me doesn’t seem like an equal exchange.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “I’m sure.”
“Done, sweetness.” I kiss her between the eyes. “I’ll change my flight to Monday.” Her eyes cross and sparkle.
“Thank you.” A shy smile from her, and my heartbeat accelerates.
I want to cup her face, but I’d put the helmet on her. I make a mental note to do so only after I’m done touching and kissing her.
“Adjusting my flight isn’t earthshattering, beautiful.”
“It is to me.”
“How so?” There’s sadness in her voice. Fuck it. I remove her helmet.
Needing skin on skin, I remove my glove, cradle her face, and skate my thumb over the arch of her cheek.
Her cheeks are flushed, her skin is smooth, and there’s a constellation of freckles on the bridge of her nose that trail off to the corners of her eyes.
It’s a piece of her I can stare at until her beautiful face turns a shade of pink. Freckles on a woman are my weakness.
“My best friend’s the only one who’s ever adjusted his life for me.”
That doesn’t sit well with me. “Your brother? Your shadow? Friends from school?”
“My friends don’t count. They have busy lives, and we promised not to make one another feel bad when we can’t be there.”
“And your brother? This shadow of yours?”
A brother should be there for his little sister. The shadow . . . He’s there because Ty can’t be there. Then why isn’t the bastard dropping everything when Ever needs him?
“That’s different. I don’t like asking them. My bodyguard is moody, and my brother is . . .” She shrugs. “We’re close, but not that close that we adjust our lives around one another.”
Her answer makes me question whether the car guy was more than a best friend. Not that I would take back my word. Ever can talk about her mom and her best friend until her voice is hoarse. I’d never stop her from living out her memories of them by speaking about them.
I pat the seat that sits higher above mine. “Ever ridden on a motorcycle?”
“Yes. My best friend had a Harley.”
“Your car guy best friend?”
“The same one.”
I take her hands in mine and slip on riding gloves. “Share your memories of him and your mom whenever you like. I’m here for you, sweetness.” I smooth my mouth over her gloved knuckles before helping her with her helmet. She trembles beneath my caress.
“Hang on to my shoulder when you get on.”
Grasping my shoulder, she uses the foot peg and swings her leg over the motorcycle. Her small arms wrap around my chest, and she leans her whole weight on me.
Liking too much the feel of her soft curves full on my shoulders and back, I cup and caress her knee. The small gesture earns me a soft sigh of contentment that fills my helmet. Warmth spreads across my chest.
Happy. I am fucking happy.
I start the engine. I won’t ever tire of how her body reacts to mine, to my touch and my mouth on hers. Ever’s body is so responsive. Will she be just as responsive when she submits to my dominance? Or will I scare her with how intense I am in the bedroom?
Ever is young, and in the bedroom, our age could be the deal-breaker.