Chapter 3
Chapter Three
RED
Well, at least now both brothers were unhappy. Tony was ready to explode. Kit was steaming. He could almost see the fury coming out of his ears in waves. Out of ears or eyes? Red couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. Kit was doing it out of every orifice.
The kid had grown up into a gorgeous man. There was no doubt about that. That description of him with the tats and piercings and glitter. Yeah, that had been him at the club. The chaos demon reigned supreme.
This guy in his over-sized hoody looked five years younger, even with the ink creeping up his neck and spilling over his wrists, and the piercings in his eyebrows and nose.
No matter Kit’s bratty energy was rolling off him, Red wanted to enfold the boy in his arms and tell him everything would be all right because he was there to take care of him.
From the way Kit argued furiously with his brother, Red had no doubt that would go down like a lead balloon.
Red stood to one side as the fight went on and on. This wasn’t the first time he’d been the focus of a family dispute. No one wanted to be babysat. Bodyguards were never popular. Most people learned to live with them.
Kit though…he was gonna be a pain in Red’s ass. Red knew that as sure as the sun rose and shone its rays in Red’s face every damned morning because he forgot to pull down the blind.
Tony started to get a hunted look in his eyes as Kit continued yelling. Red knew the brothers well enough to know what was going to happen next. It was time to intervene.
“We’re done,” Red said abruptly when Kit finally drew breath.
Both men turned to him.
“Thank God,” Tony said with feeling.
Kit opened his mouth but Red held up his hand.
“Kit, you don’t get a choice in the matter. You either accept me as your bodyguard, or we put you in the CDR hatch. That’s like being put in lockup.”
“You wouldn’t,” Kit said furiously.
“Try me,” Red snapped. “Tony knows that someone is threatening your life from a rival club over a business deal. You either have me or someone from our brother team.”
Tony turned on him. “I don’t want anyone involved with the mafia in my house.”
It had been a throwaway remark on Red’s part to show the brothers he was taking the threat seriously, but maybe someone from the Darker Daddy Bodyguards—another stupid name—would be a better choice.
They were more used to walking the darker side of security.
He could put in a call to Dominic and get Leon Trasker’s phone number.
He’d met the guy once or twice at events before Trasker had married into the Acierno Mafia family.
Now Trasker moved in different circles from the clients Red had taken care of who’d mainly been C-lister celebrities and junior politicians.
But as Tony had upset a dangerous club, maybe they would be better taking care of Kit. As much as Red didn’t want to admit it, he was a better babysitter than anything else. Red needed to talk about a job with Dominic Cook. But first he needed to secure his client.
“You might not get a choice,” Red admitted. “If you’ve upset dangerous men, Tony, you need equally dangerous men to protect the kid. CDR will only put the right security detail in here.”
Red fixed his gaze on Kit who glared back at him, his storm-gray eyes snapping furiously. “I’m not a kid.”
No, he wasn’t. He was a sexy brat that Red wanted in his arms to protect him forever. Red had the urge to reel Kit into his arms and show him how he should be treated, how a real Daddy Dom would handle his precious bratty boy.
There were a lot of issues with that. Not least of which Tony was his client and would bury him in a grave out the back of the clubhouse for laying a finger on his baby brother.
Tony was the only parent Kit had had for over a decade.
Tony and a club of overprotective bikers.
And every one of them would take Red out back and beat him with a tire iron if he was inappropriate with Kit.
Red was a professional. He could handle this.
He hoped.
“You’re not a kid,” Red agreed, and Kit’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t expected Red to agree. “But you’re our kid, the club’s kid. You see the difference?”
Kit’s expression darkened, but he gave a curt nod.
“I don’t want anyone else except you,” Tony insisted. “I trust you not to lay a hand on my brother. You ain’t interested in anyone.”
“He’s not that old,” Kit said.
Red glowered at him. “Thanks.”
After this recommendation from both the brothers, he felt as if he were ninety, not thirty-six. One thought he was past it, and the other thought he was almost past it. They were probably both right. And wrong.
It was time he took control of the situation.
“Kit, you’re staying here tonight. The club is being guarded by CDR. They’ll assess whether the threats Tony received are real or not.
I’ll be by your side until we set up a detail for you.
Then you can argue about where you want to live.
It’s not a bad thing your job is finished. It’s one less thing to worry about.”
Kit folded his arms over his chest. Red’s eyes were drawn to the intricate sleeves on both arms. One day, he’d study them in greater detail.
If he got the chance. This whole thing could be over by the morning, at least for him.
He didn’t know much about CDR, but they’d taken on enough high-profile cases to make headlines.
If they thought Kit needed the Darker Daddy Bodyguards, then it was serious.
“One night,” Kit said.
Red raised an eyebrow. “Then?”
“I’ll stay here for one night. Then I’m looking for another job and back to my life.”
“You’ll do as you’re told,” Tony snapped.
Not again. Why couldn’t Tony keep his mouth shut? Red watched Kit’s eyes narrow to slits. He stepped in before Kit could start another fight, otherwise they’d be yelling at each other all night, and the boy looked as if he could fall asleep where he stood.
“Tony, shut up.” Red waved his hand as Tony turned on him, his expression furious. “Yeah, yeah, you’re the client, but I’m your friend and I’ve never been a yes man. You know that.” Then he turned to Kit. “Is this your bedroom?”
Kit’s furious expression changed to something different, almost needy, as he turned his attention on Red, one immaculate eyebrow raised. “Why, Daddy?” He almost purred. “You gonna put me to bed like a good boy?”
10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
Red breathed in and let it out slowly. He was ready to spank the boy and put him in the corner. If they wanted a Daddy, they’d get a Daddy.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, boy,” he snapped.
Both brothers stared at him, mouths open.
Who knew going full Daddy Dom was a way to shut them both up?
Tony shifted from one foot to another, looking uncomfortable. “Red, I…uh…expect you to be professional.”
Then Kit leaned forward and licked his lips. “Oh, Daddy, you can be very professional with me.”
For heaven’s sake. Red threw his hands up.
“One more word out of either of you and I’m outta here.
Got it?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he stabbed a finger at Tony.
“My job is to protect Kit from your clusterfuck. What did you think you were doing bringing Biker Daddy Bodyguards on board? Sorry to disillusion you but your brother ain’t no blushing virgin.
And you…” He swung around to Kit who’d just snorted at his last comment.
“I ain’t your Daddy. I’m not here to lay you or spank you or anything else you’ve got in your head. I’m here to keep you alive. Got it?”
Kit scowled at him, just as Tony was. Now he had two sulking brothers. He didn’t care.
“Tony, get out of here. I need to talk to Kit.”
Tony hesitated, then stalked out of the room. Red waited until he heard him stomping down the stairs before he expelled a deep breath.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes when I realized the guy laying on top of me was you,” Kit cooed, then he batted his eyelashes.
Let battle commence. Kit wasn’t going to give him an inch.
“I knew who you were the second I saw you dancing on the floor,” Red countered.
Kit’s eyes widened. “You watched me?”
“It’s my job,” Red growled.
There was no way he was going to admit he’d been transfixed by the boy. In a sea of glitter demons on the dance floor, Kit stood out, just as he always had. Red only wanted to look at him. He outshone them all.
Then the world had erupted around them, and his sole thought had been keeping Kit safe. Taking care of Ti hadn’t been planned, but the boy would have gotten himself killed if he hadn’t. It was a good thing he took orders so well.
Unlike Kit.
Except the boy had obeyed. Maybe they could work with that.
“No.” Kit glared at him across the unmade bed. “I’m not gonna be put to bed, just because you tell me to go. Which part of ‘I am not a kid’ did you miss, old man?”
Of all the things to annoy him, the unmade bed bothered Red most of all. He always made his bed every day. The ‘old man’ crack was annoying, but he could live with that. Kit wasn’t the first bratty boy he’d had to handle.
“You could have died tonight,” Red said. “You’re tired, you lost your job, you’re frustrated by me, and ready to collapse on your feet. Your adrenaline has crashed and the best thing you can do is sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
If Kit hadn’t followed that up with a jaw-cracking yawn, maybe Red might have believed him.
“Kid, sleep,” Red said, trying to make his tone coaxing. See, this was why he was just a grunt, not a leader. Others could do the diplomatic orders. Red was ready to spank Kit. Trouble is that the boy would like it far too much. “I need to talk to CDR. You need to sleep.”
“And Tony?”
Red shrugged. “Tony ain’t my problem. You and only you are my concern.”
“Tony’s the club president.”
“He is, but I’m not here to follow his orders. I work for CDR. I focus on the person I have to protect. That’s you.”
“Don’t call me kid.”
Red inclined his head. “Kit.”
“You called me boy before.”
“Slip of the tongue. I’m not your Daddy.”
He’d shout that out to the world, if only someone would listen.
Kit’s eyes narrowed. “Are you someone else’s Daddy?”
“No.”
“Then why can’t you be my Daddy? You work for the Biker Daddy Bodyguards. I know who they are.”
Touche, kid.
“Strictly I don’t work for anyone yet,” Red admitted. “I was going to fill in the forms tomorrow. Tonight was me checking you out.”
Kit blinked, then his expression morphed into something amused and infinitely dangerous. Dammit, Red had just slipped up.
“Like what you see?” He fluttered his eyelashes.
Red rolled his eyes. Could the kid be more obvious. “Bed.”
Kit pouted, then held out his arms. “Are you going to undress me?”
“No.”
“But you’re supposed to take care of me.”
“I can protect your ass just fine from here,” Red said flatly, folding his arms across his chest. Kit wasn’t the first highly-strung client he’d handled. He wouldn’t be the last.
The brat tugged the hoodie over his head.
As he did, his white undershirt rucked up, exposing his tanned flat belly covered with ink that dipped beneath his waistband.
Red wanted to touch the snake, follow it, feel the warm skin that acted as a beautiful canvas, lick down the tail to find out where the tail finished.
He knew. Of, course he knew. Red wanted to see it for himself.
The brat didn’t stop there.
Of course he didn’t.
Kit had never known when to quit pushing.
Red kept his shoulders loose, expression bored, like this was nothing. Like Kit wasn’t standing three feet away turning the whole damn room into a live porno show just for him.
“Oh no,” Red muttered under his breath. “Don’t you dare.”
But Kit did.
Slowly. Deliberately.
The undershirt came first.
He didn’t just pull it off — he peeled it up, inch by inch, stretching like a cat in the sun, all lean muscle and smooth skin. The overhead light slid across him, catching on the silver rings in his nipples, little flashes of metal that made Red’s throat go dry.
A blatant challenge. Every movement said look at me. Look at me now.
Oh yeah, the glitter chaos demon was out to play.
And Red was his audience.
But not this time. Red was too experienced to fall for temptation. He crossed his arms. Didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He refused to look. Not really.
Red tracked everything in his peripheral vision like it was a threat assessment. Like Kit was just another variable to manage. Just another risk to calculate. Instead of the prettiest damn thing he’d seen in years.
Then the jeans went.
Kit shoved them down his hips with zero shame, taking his briefs with them, like he had something to prove. Like he wanted Red to react.
Red discovered where else he was pierced.
Hell.
Heat punched low in his gut, sharp and instant.
His brain supplied images he absolutely did not need — what those rings would feel like under his fingers, against his tongue, the weight of Kit gasping under his hands.
Red locked his jaw so hard it hurt.
He was a professional.
Kit was a client. Off-limits.
He’d demand the contract tomorrow. The one that told him never to touch a client.
Red turned slightly, like he was checking the window instead, scanning the tree line, the perimeter, anything but the naked menace standing five feet away trying to crawl under his skin.
Because that’s what this was.
A game. Power. Kit pushing and testing. Seeing how far he could go before Red snapped.
Red had seen it before. Boys who mistook control for safety, who flirted with danger because they didn’t know how to ask for comfort any other way. Davie had been one. Red was used to it. Still didn’t make it easier.
“You know where the bathroom is,” Red said evenly, like his pulse wasn’t thundering. “Don’t leave your crap on the floor.”
Kit huffed a laugh. “You’re no fun.”
Red didn’t rise to it.
Been there. Done that.
Who exactly he was refusing, he wasn’t even sure anymore. CDR. The club. Tony. Fate. Kit himself.
Maybe all of them.
They demanded something from him. A line crossed. They wanted the Daddy stepping in and claiming what was being served up on a glittery plate. Maybe not Tony, but the rest of them.
But he wasn’t going to play their game.
They needed a Daddy.
And he wasn’t the one.
Even if every damn instinct in his body screamed otherwise.