Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
CHASSIS
My father walks into the bar area, but I don’t pay attention to where exactly he’s coming from. That is, until I see that replacement snake of a clubwhore moving closely behind him, wearing nothing but a small pair of G-string panties and a snarky smile that I want to slap off her face.
I stare at her longer than I should. It’s really hard to act like someone doesn’t affect you if you’re staring daggers at them and wishing they would drop dead where they’re standing.
Tearing my gaze from her, I look over at my father. I’m not sure he even knows she’s behind him. I really don’t know what this woman’s deal is, why she’s so pissed at me, hell, why any of them would be pissed at me, but I am so over them all.
“I’m going to lunch with Dare. You’ll be good here?”
I start to tell him that I’ll be heading home because being here with this half-naked woman all afternoon sounds like a damn nightmare. I don’t get the chance to say that, though, because my father continues.
“I don’t want you to leave the clubhouse without me or Dare.”
As much as I want to ask him if everything is okay, I decide not to. Questioning him here, in an open forum, is a huge no-no, even though my brain screams at me to do just that. Swallowing my question, I dip my chin in a single nod, my gaze never leaving his.
“We’ll get some dinner or something before I leave.”
I don’t bother replying anything. The decision has been made.
I’ll stay here, and he’ll do whatever he’s going to go do.
Then he’ll come back, and we’ll have dinner.
If there’s anything I know about my father, it’s that what he says goes.
Always. Piston might have been the brother who practically raised me, but my father is and will always be the one in control.
My father heads outside. The snake bitch continues to stand there with her tits out, giving me a smug look. I don’t know what she’s even being so uppity about at this point. She had sex with my dad. She’s not the first clubwhore he’s fucked, and she won’t be the last.
Amos interrupts our staring contest when he stands in front of me, and then he lifts his hands, cupping my cheeks. My entire body melts, and I instantly forget all about that bitch. He lowers his head, his lips touching mine.
“We’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”
His lips brush mine with each word he says, and I melt toward him. I wish I could crawl inside him, hold on to him, and be part of him. I’ve never felt like I’ve wanted to be attached to anyone before the way I do him.
Not even with the father of this baby did I want to actually become part of him like this. There is a draw I feel toward Amos. I don’t understand it. I shouldn’t be attracted to him the way I am.
I’m borderline obsessed, and I’m not sure it’s healthy. I keep telling myself it’s because we have great sex and my hormones are all out of whack, that it’ll change once I have the baby. But honestly, I don’t think things will change.
Amos is only a few years younger than my father. Everything about what we have should feel so wrong. Except there is nothing fatherly about him or the way I feel about him. In fact, if I could strip him down right here and now, that’s exactly what I would do. I’m here for it.
His hands fall from my face, and he steps back slightly. His gaze searches mine for a moment, and his lips twitch into a smirk before he lifts his hand again, extending his index finger to touch the tip of my nose.
“Your dad wants you to stay here today, and I agree. At least until we get this meeting over with and have a better idea of what’s going on.”
I start to ask him if he’s meeting with the Russians, but I figure he’d tell me if he wanted me to know. Maybe he’s waiting until it’s all finished before he gives me all the details. I dip my chin in a nod, biting my bottom lip as I look into his eyes.
“I’ll be here,” I whisper.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and every inch of my body trembles with desire.
I watch as he walks toward the door, slipping outside with my father, and then I hear their bikes fire up.
A few moments later, that snaky bitch smiles as her eyes search mine.
Instead of standing around and waiting for her to spew any bullshit my way, I start to walk away from her, but she calls out my name.
“I don’t even fucking know you,” I state. “So I can’t imagine what the fuck you have to say to me right now.”
Her smile doesn’t drop. Hell, it doesn’t even fade, and if I’m not mistaken, it even grows a little. Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it for a moment, then let it out slowly as I wait for her bullshit.
“The men in your life just love me, babe,” she states. “I just thought you should know.”
Instead of responding to her, I begin to walk away again, but she decides to say some more dumb shit. “I wonder if your Russian would like me better than you, too?”
“Are you seriously comparing the men I’ve been with to my father? That’s weird as hell and fucking gross.”
She shrugs a shoulder, her eyes bright, but there’s nothing behind them. She’s vacant and dumb, but I can tell she’s also mean. Whatever her agenda is, she’s not finished with it yet. And she’s trying really hard to get to me, to get me out of here, but I’m not biting.
I don’t bother waiting for her response. I don’t care enough about what she thinks or what she has to say to me. She’s pointless, and so is whatever she has to spew.
Leaving her alone in the bar, I head to the bedroom, Amos’s bedroom. I don’t know what the rest of the day is going to bring, and I shouldn’t hide from her, because then she’ll think she’s won something.
She hasn’t won a damn thing, but at the same time, I don’t want to waste my breath or my time on her or anyone else who thinks it’s cute to try to make a pregnant wife feel less than in any way. But as I sit and think about her words, something about what she said causes me to pause.
My Russian. How did she know?