The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)(30)

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, heading back to the stolen car.

Waking up this morning, I smell of cleaning products and fire. It’s been a week since I told Dani everything, which was the hardest thing I think I have ever done. Seeing her break down made me realize just how fragile she is, and it made me want to shelter and protect her from danger. If she wanted to pack up and leave, I would have. I already f*cked up picking the club and my brothers over her. From now on, she comes first.

She’s worked twice this week, and both times I have picked her up and dropped her off. We have watched T.V. and talked about senseless shit. Yet all I can think about is throwing Dani over the counter and f*cking her, claiming what’s mine once again, reminding her she is mine for eternity until I say otherwise, but the severity of our situation has me questioning if she wants me. Don’t get me wrong if I wanted Dani, I could easily take her whether she wanted it or not; she is my ol’ lady, after all, but it wouldn’t be us. It wouldn’t be Firefly, unless I know she trusts me. I don’t want half of Dani—I want all of her. I want her to scream who she belongs to, ruin her for any man who might stand behind me. Given my nature, there is a strong possibility I will f*ck this relationship up again. Knowing Dani’s angelic nature in our world, there will be men standing behind me. Regardless of what Bobby says, his ass would be in line to take Dani as his; he would be stupid not to.

Snapping me from my thoughts, Dani comes in with a towel wrapped around her midsection, singing some chick song as she moseys in the shopping bags on the counter. The towel is riding high as she bends over the counter, showing the rounds of her ass, her hair dripping down her back. I can’t help the groan that rumbles through my chest.

Dani spins around and grips the towel at her breast.

“Shit. I didn’t know you were back,” she gasps with surprise.

“Yeah, just got back,” I reply, adjusting my cock, her skin tanned from laying out and screaming for my mouth to devour it.

Dani looks down at herself. “I’ll go get changed,” she says meekly, before taking off.

She scampers off down the hall, and it takes everything in me not to follow her like a horny teenager. I want to see that body of hers again. With that thought, my dick twitches, making me growl in frustration. Things have been getting a little better between Dani and me, I can still feel some of the tension in the air between us, and I’m not sure if it’s because I admitted I chose the club over her, or if it’s sexual.

“So, what are the plans for the weekend?” she asks, plopping down on the couch next to me, her smell of perfection reminding me of what I want and can’t have. She’s wearing a peach-colored, loose top which hangs off her shoulder with shorts that were once jeans, cut too short.

“Um,” the words catch in my throat as I eye-f*ck her, “tonight, I thought we could just chill. In two days, there is a Fourth of July party at the beach,” I inform her, trying to look at anything but her, but it’s not working.

“Oh, yeah, what time is it?” she questions, picking up the remote from the coffee table. As she bends over to grab it, her shirt hangs loose, giving me a glimpse of her perky breasts. My cock swells at the sight.

I look up and see her eyes catch mine, a slight smirk crossing her face as she leans back on the couch and flips through the channels. She’s teasing me.

“It starts at noon, but I don’t usually go till night,” I say, trying to think of anything but sex.

“Why’s that?” she asks, still staring at the screen.

“That’s when the sinners come out.” I look at Dani’s stunned expression, her vivid green eyes wide with surprise, and I wink.

***

I slide my empty beer across the bar toward Babs. I had to escape Dani; her sexy tits have been screaming for my mouth to take them all day, and my hands twitched with the urge to grab them. It’s weird not having someone else’s trust and actually giving a shit about it.

“We got a problem,” Bull states, walking into the clubhouse. I watch a flustered Bull lean against the bar. He grabs the side of the counter with both hands and arches his back so he’s looking at the floor.

“What’s going on?” Bobby asks popping the cap off his beer with the side of the bar’s counter.

“Locks just called me. He said his bike caught on fire,” Bull confides, glancing up at us, his face looking tired and worn out.

“Holy shit. He okay?” Bobby wonders, mid-sip of his beer.

“Yeah, he was inside the smoke shop when it caught fire,” Bull confirms with a raised eyebrow.

“Did someone set it on fire?” Bobby questions. I turn to look at Bull, curious myself. Seems we have done nothing but piss people off here lately; wouldn’t surprise me if that list grew.

“Let’s get over there and check it out,” Bull orders, pushing off the counter. “Tom Cat, drive the truck over there,” he yells at our newest prospect. Let’s just say, our last one, Charlie, didn’t make the cut after he let Dani get kidnapped.

***

We pull up to the smoke shop where Locks buys his tobacco; he rolls his own cigarettes so he’s always here buying supply. When we pull into the parking lot, there are motorcycle parts from one end to the other. Sitting in the middle is what’s left of the bike with dissipating smoke surrounding it. It’s a disaster, and it looks more like it was blown up than caught on fire. You can see a wheel against the store, which was blown from the bike, and I have to weave through the shrapnel pieces everywhere. Just feet from the trashed bike is Locks. He’s sitting down against a light pole which resides in the parking lot, one leg bent while the other is out straight. He looks completely relaxed for someone who just had his pride and joy ripped from their hands.