Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC #5)(12)



His eyes flickered down my bare legs. I was wearing a long tee and no pants, lying on top of my comforter. I was lucky that it was meant for men and the sleeves fell just past my elbows. It’s the only kind of tee I wore, since it hid the red dots in the crook of my elbows when they weren’t covered in makeup like they were for work.

Despite the fact it was more clothes than I wore on stage and he’d seen it all, I felt exposed. Maybe it was because my face was bare of makeup, the only decoration being the spattering of bruises. There was no hiding it with a curtain of my midnight-black hair, as it was piled messily atop my head. And due to the fact I was a pale as a ghost, the bruising stood out so much it was comical. It wasn’t attractive, but I’d take it. Plus, when I was on stage, slathered in a mask—and, more often than not, high as a kite—I was somewhere else. I journeyed beyond a dimly lit room and leering gazes, kind of had to to survive.

But this was my little sanctuary. Sure, it was messy, with clothes strewn on the floor and makeup littering my dresser, but it was mine. The one place in the world the mask could come off. Well, not completely off; I still had to cling to a shred of it in order to face myself in the mirror. That had a little to do with the junk hidden in a lipstick canister and a lot to do with the little girl who still haunted me with her lost innocence.

“A fetish insinuates a habit,” Lucky said, eyes moving down to my toes. Then they moved back up to my face and hardened. “I don’t have any obsessions with other feet. Or other women.” He paused. “Well, not for long, anyway. It’s one in particular who fascinates me.” He let that hang between us before his eyes went to my bedside table, where various bottles were littered. “Now, what color are we thinking?” He picked up a forest green, squinting and putting it back down. “I think purple would be best. Plus, it goes with this.” He leaned forward to touch a tendril of my dip-dyed hair, which had escaped from my bun. My heart thundered at him touching my hair. My freakin’ hair. I flinched back and his body stiffened.

“Not gonna hurt you, Becky,” he murmured. “I’d never do that. Despite how f*ckin’ pissed I am that you’re too f*ckin’ stubborn to accept help and come to the clubhouse with me. If I wasn’t worried about how those nails will embed themselves in my cheek, I’d be putting you over my shoulder and dragging you there myself… but I like my beautiful face untainted.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah, well it will stay that way if you don’t try and forcibly take me to your compound. I don’t do well in captivity.”

Something moved behind his eyes. “Yeah. You’re wild, baby. In a good way. No way in hell I’d try to rein in the spirit dancing behind those eyes. It’s what drew me in, part of why I like you so f*ckin’ much. Caging that, it’d be a crime to humanity.”

I swallowed at his words. At the fact I felt like a f*cking teenager and wanted to dance around the room at hearing he liked me. Me.

He doesn’t know you, not really, the voice inside my head told me. If he did, no way in hell he’d call you beautiful. Not when he knew the real you. The drug addict f*ckup. The tarnished little girl.

The thought was like ice water on my psyche. I sat up and moved to stand on the other side of the bed, putting furniture between us. “You don’t like me,” I hissed. “You’re just not used to someone not liking you. You think I’m something to be conquered and cast aside once you’ve satisfied your ego that you can claim any girl you like.”

Lucky’s face hardened. “You’re right. I do want to conquer you.” His voice dripped with erotic promise. “But I don’t suspect it will be easy. Suspect it’ll be worth it, and I sure as f*ck won’t want to cast you aside after the fact.”

I straightened, trying to ignore the way my entire body responded to the pure sex in his voice. I’d just been beaten up by my very ex loser boyfriend, and now I was getting turned on by the biker who’d been borderline stalking me for two weeks? I was so f*cked-up.

I met his eyes and hoped my bitch stare was firmly in place. “Whatever. Dreams are free. Which is all you’ll ever get in regards to me. You’re not getting what you want, for once. Try not to cry into your pillow tonight. Or do. I don’t care either way. Just leave me alone,” I ordered, my voice cold. It may have been an order outwardly, but it was also a plea. A prayer.

Lucky rounded the bed and stalked towards me. I backed up but had nowhere to go once my hip hit my dresser. He boxed me in. “You think I’m leavin’ you alone?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper. He brought his hand up to my bruised cheek. I held his eyes and refused to flinch away. “After that f*cker did this to you?”

I jutted my chin out. “I can take care of myself.”

Lucky nodded. “Yeah, I reckon you can. Reckon that’s been your life. Looking out for yourself. Fighting to protect yourself. Can see it behind your emerald eyes. The glint of a warrior who’s seen too f*ckin’ much. Fought against too much.” He paused. “You don’t know what it’s like to have someone step up and do that for you. It’s a f*ckin’ shame. But I’m also happy to be the first man to do that.”

His words hypnotized me, gave me a glimpse at a life I might be able to have in a parallel universe. One similar to what Lily had with Asher. What normal people had.

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