Chapter 13
Mad Dog
“Holy fuck.” Slips from my lips before I can stop it. “I mean,” I clear my throat and try again, “What I meant to say is you look breathtaking.” I smile for a little too long before thrusting a bouquet of wildflowers at her.
The flowers hang in the air between us and I stand a little straighter when I notice Willa’s gaze. Her eyes darken a little and I feel a little more confident in the tux that Pops chose for me.
“You look,” she swallows, “really handsome.”
“Yeah?” I say feeling ten fucking feet tall. “Pops picked out the tux.”
“Of course he did.”
I huff, “Maybe don’t tell him you like it. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Wanna know a secret?”
“Shoot.” I grin at her.
She leans forward slightly, giving me a clear view of her cleavage, “Pops picked out this dress, too.”
“No shit?” My brows raise and I get to take her in without her thinking I’m perving at her.
Willa’s curves are wrapped in a silk floral dress that nips in at the waist before skimming her hips and thick thighs. She has heels on which makes her only a little shorter than me and if we weren’t friends I’d be able to kiss her without bending or getting a crick in my neck.
“Well,” I say, my voice coming out a little deeper than I was expecting, “I’d say he made a great fucking choice.”
Willa throws her head back and lets out the raspy laugh I love. I’ll let her laugh for as long as she fuckings wants if it means I can bask in her glow.
“So, I guess we better get going, huh?” she says once her giggles settle down.
“Shit, yeah, I guess we should.” I crook my elbow, holding it out to her, “M’lady.”
“Wow, ain't no one ever called me a lady before,” she snorts.
“Well, you ain't been hanging out with the right people, babe.”
“Damn right,” she mutters.
I decide then and there to treat her. The whole fucking hog. Starting with opening the car door for her.
“No bike, huh?”
“Not in that get up, babe.”
“Fair enough.”
She takes the hand I offer her and she slides into the backseat of the car that Roman of all people has provided for the evening.
A fleet of sleek, black bullet proof rides complete with Russian chauffeurs.
I have no idea if they understand English or not, and I guess I don’t care too much.
Not when they put up a privacy wall between themselves and us.
“Whoa, this is pretty damn fancy, Mad Dog,” Willa breathes.
“I know, I kinda feel a little weird about it,” I share with her.
She turns to look at me, her bright green eyes lined in black. “Like you’re a kid pretending to be a fancy grown up?”
I think about her words before grinning. “Yeah, exactly like that,” I chuckle. “Just not right, like when you pet a dog the wrong way.”
It’s her turn to giggle, “Or when you see little kids in leather jackets? It’s not wrong, but there’s no need for it either.”
“Unless they’re MC, right?”
“Of course.” She thinks for a moment. “Although the DRMC kids are scary on their own. They don’t need leather jackets.”
“No they damn well don’t. I’m not sure how I feel about them one day taking over the MC.”
She settles back into the leather seats, her body pressed against mine as she looks up at me. “You think they will?”
I swallow, leaning my head back against the head rest. “I think it’s a given. Can you imagine telling any of them they can’t patch in?”
She snorts, the sound both cute and somehow sexy. And that’s a dangerous thing to think about when we’re just friends. “Nope.”
We sit in silence for a moment. The drive is a long one, almost an hour and we’re alone in the car. I did ask if anyone wanted to carpool, but it turns out that everyone and their Ol Ladies wanted the celebrity treatment.
“OK, I think I know the kids reasonably well,” she says, “let's take bets. Who do you think will take officer positions in the next generation?”
“Ohh,” I blow out a breath, “that’s a damned good question.” All the kids flash through my mind. And there’s a lot of them. “I guess it would be natural to think Niko and maybe Judge’s boy Jax would take Prez and VP.”
“Oohh, I feel a little but coming on,” Willa says, wriggling her little ass in excitement and grinning up at me.
I screw up my face a little. “I kinda think Cove might have one over them.”
Willa whoops, clapping her hands and laughs, “I immediately thought Cove for Prez! She’s organized, reads the room well, and is a little diabolical.”
“Yup, all of the above. If Cove is Prez then obviously Jovie is VP.”
“Obviously,” Willa says, still chuckling. “Although, they might do a Sage. Marry into a badass MC.”
“That could happen, too.” I think for a moment, at what my boys have taken over after me and me and my buddies set the DRMC ball in motion. “I think whatever they all decide to do will be fine with us. They’ll all find their way, and the MC will always be there for them.”
“You do know that those kids are badass, right?”
“A little too badass at times,” I mutter.
“Have you seen their booby traps at my house?” Willa side-eyes me.
“Nope. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have an inkling that they’ve done something.”
Willa looks out the window, a smile playing on her plump lips. “Let's just say if Diesel tries something, he won't be trying for long.”
I can't help the way my grin stretches across my face. I’d love to see whatever it is the kids have come up with, even if it does mean that fucker Diesel has to turn up to Willa’s and scare her.
The thought of her scared in her home makes my gut drop.
I just have to keep reminding myself that Willa isn’t a damsel in distress.
“When did you realize you were tougher than Diesel?”
Willa looks taken aback. “What do you mean?”
The creak of the leather seats sounds loud in the silence of the car as I adjust my bulk to look at Willa.
“You don’t need to tell me what living with Diesel was like.
It’s written all over you.” She lets out a sigh.
“It’s just at some point, old Willa decided she’d had enough.
You decided that you were tougher than the shit he threw at you. ”
She’s quiet, gazing out the window, the street lights illuminating Rose Grove. “I didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“I didn’t think I was tough. Or strong enough to leave. I just kept surviving shit that I was sure would destroy me.”
I nod in the dim lighting of the car. “And eventually you realized you were stronger than he’ll ever be?”
Her plump lips tip up and she glances up at me with a sparkle in her eye. “No. Eventually I realized I’m pretty damn hard to kill. And that if it was a fight between me and Diesel? I was going to win every fucking time.”
My grin matches hers as we sit in the backseat of Roman’s fancy car heading to a fundraising gala attended by a bad motherfucker, and there is nowhere else I would rather be.
“Mad Dog?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I wouldn’t be mad if you kissed me tonight.”
I try to think of something smooth to say, but little Mad Dog has joined the conversation. “Fuckin’ A?”
Willa rasps out a laugh before resting her head on my shoulder. “Fuckin’ A.”
Willa
“Ready, babe?”
Mad Dog holds his hand out, ready to accompany me out of the car door he opened for me. Am I ready? Not really. Not when I’ve had so much fun just chewing the fat with him in the backseat of a chauffeured car.
“As I’ll ever be,” I mutter, grasping his rough, tattooed hand.
I hunch down, making sure I don’t accidentally step on my dress as I get out. I stand, smoothing down the silky fabric that cost me way too much. I mean, I could have said no to Pops, but I did fall in love with this dress and I was hoping Mad Dog would too.
Mad Dog lets out a deep breath as he looks around. There’s a red carpet where fancy folk are having their photos taken and I know exactly what he’s going to do when he turns to grin at me.
“Mad Dog!” I hiss as he tugs me in the direction of the photographer. “Aren’t we meant to be laying low?”
He gives me a look. “Willa. I’m old, rough and tattooed with a fucking gorgeous woman on my arm. There ain’t no laying low tonight.” He throws me a wink and ignores my eye roll.
You know what? Screw it. We both look good, like really good so we may as well ham it up for the cameras.
He pulls me close, his arm wrapping around my back, bicep hard as he presses me into his side. My palm rests flat against his hard stomach and I can’t help the heat pooling between my thighs.
“Look at me like you wanna eat me,” I murmur, wanting to tease Mad Dog a little.
“Jesus hell, babe, you made me forget to smile.” Mad Dog grumbles before pulling me tighter into him. So tight I can feel the hard length in his trousers. “Stand there so no one gets an eyeful.”
I press myself even tighter to him, his little hiss of breath ghosting across the back of my neck, sending shivers up my spine.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he mutters. And don’t I fucking know it.
I know I was the one who asked to be friends.
Who demanded there be nothing more. But the more time we’ve spent together lately, the more I’ve come to enjoy Mad Dog.
Which is kinda inconvenient. When we were just having sex I could tell myself that it was his body I liked.
The way he moved, his mouth on me, him inside me.
But being friends with Mad Dog screwed that all up because it turns out I also kinda like him without all the sex stuff and I’m not brave enough to jump in with both feet.
So, tonight I’m going to follow Pops’ instructions and just dip a toe.
That way if I need to pull back or hide I can do that. I think. Shit, I hope.
“Babe?”
“Yeah?” I turn my face to look up at Mad Dog not expecting him to cup my cheek gently, or press his lips to mine.