Stay Vertical (The Bare Bones MC #2)(41)
He put his hands on his hips. “Went south, yeah, if you want to call it that. Is that word all over the f*cking street?”
“Well, the street that leads to The Bare Bones’ distributor at least. You…didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?”
“Me? No, of course not. Iso just got…carried a bit away…”
“Hey!” Iso appeared in the hallway like Fonzie, rocking his leather cut and giving the thumbs up—to my boobs, apparently. I had come straight from the children’s party without changing, so I was innocently wearing a flowered, flippy little dress that did display a bit of cleavage. It was just a dress I thought looked girlish, but suddenly now I felt slutty. “If it isn’t my favorite curvy pass-around.”
Lytton tried to stand in between us. “She’s no pass-around, Weaver.”
Iso peeked around Lytton’s arm. He formed his hands into the shape of my boobs. “Whatever. You said she’s not your old lady, so how’s about sharing the wealth, buddy?”
Lytton reached around the small of his back. I saw the grip of a pistol where the piece was lodged into the waistband of his jeans. His fingers wiggled as though he itched to squeeze the trigger. I felt Toby, standing next to me, tense and hold his breath. I knew Lytton usually—or always—packed a gun to protect his farm against marauders just like Iso.
Lytton’s left hand went toward Iso, palm out, like a crossing guard. “Back off, dirtbag. You’ve got plenty of sweetbutt * back at your clubhouse, only Zelov told me to keep you here for a couple days. So my house, my rules. Get back to your video game.”
Iso’s face fell. “Aw. I’m already getting bored with that Minecraft game.” I could hear Crybaby and Helium Head back in the family room, yelling at each other about moon stones and frameworks.
Toby boldly stepped out from my shadow. “I’ll show you how to build a spaceship to the moon.”
That seemed to cheer Iso up. “Oh, righteous. Is this what you’re going to trick that pretty boy with tomorrow? A spaceship?”
I had beyond no clue what Iso referred to, but Toby was already gingerly plucking Iso’s sleeve to lead him back down the hallway. Iso yelled at us over his shoulder,
“Did you schedule an inspection with your friend from the Health Department?”
Lytton waved. “I got it, Iso. It’s all under control.”
I thought Lytton would shuttle me back out the front door, tell me everything was okay, and to go home and be a good little girl. But he didn’t.
Facing me squarely, he smiled down at me. He was so devilishly handsome he just won me over with his dazzling smile. His warm woodsy scent enveloped me and gave me a strange sense of security. I felt safe with Lytton. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”
“Oh, yeah? Well—”
He whisked me up the stairs so fast my head was practically left behind in the foyer. Within seconds we were back in the large, airy bedroom where he’d cared for me when I was sick. The sheets were all rumpled, as though he hadn’t expected any company, but I knew he hadn’t had any slaves up here, sluts or otherwise. A woman can sense these things.
Putting his hands under my arms, he lifted me onto the library table where his chemistry textbooks were. I leaned back on a book that was open to some hydraulic engineering tables, spreading my thighs wide. I had no shame. I knew that if I wanted to win and keep Lytton’s attention, I couldn’t be the prim and proper mathlete or the crusading Peace Corps volunteer. I had to be the hard-as-nails, worldly biker chick who was as comfortable on his Softail’s * pad as I was in his bed.
He pressed his forehead to mine. The crotch of his jeans was packed with his straining erection, but unlike most men, he proved he could ignore that for a few seconds. “I want you to be my old lady. Weaver forced my hand, June. I want to put your best interests first in my dominance of you. Here.”
Without tearing his eyes from mine, he swiped an object from a taller dresser. I didn’t want to break his gaze either, and I felt more than saw him wrap a wide leather cuff around my wrist. He was serious now, his eyes brimming with unexpressed emotion, and I had the distinct feeling he didn’t do this sort of ceremonial thing every day.
“Your happiness, your health, your contentment are in my care now, June Shellmound. I offer this cuff to you to guide you in your journey through life.” He grinned and added in a less stiff tone, “I’ll get you a better collar when I get down to P & E. This just happened to be here. Go with me on this.”
I finally looked down and saw he’d snapped a plain brown leather wristband around my arm. The contentment Lytton wished for me flooded through me instantly, and I found myself saying, “I want to belong to you and go wherever you want to bring me. I trust in you, Lytton. I submit to your guidance because I know you want what’s best for me.” I have no idea where I pulled that from, but it worked. I did submit to his guidance—in almost everything.
I probably would’ve said the dreaded “L word,” but he silenced me with a kiss. Now he leaned into me, pressing his hard-on against my very core, making my inner channel flutter with anticipation. The shudder seemed to resonate through my uterus and ovaries, sending a surge of estrogen through me. I angled my hips toward him, locking the heel of one shoe in his back jeans pocket. Love swept through me because he’d made me his old lady.