“A ride would be great, thanks.”
I take a step toward the car—
“I’ll be making sure she gets home okay.” I turn around, and Spark steps out of the shadows of the alley down the side of the restaurant. He looks like some avenging angel or something.
No, something darker.
Like the bogeyman. Lit from above by the streetlight, he looks scary. Tattoos creep up the side of his neck, and shadows make his cheeks more chiseled, his eyes darker.
“Erm. No. You won’t. Let’s go, Jason.”
Jason looks stricken but reaches for my hand.
Brave soul.
“She’s my date. We’ll make our own arrangements,” he says, his voice cracking. I love that he tried. If anything, Jason just went up in my estimation.
But I know any minute now, he’s going to tap out.
“You paid for the food, but I’m taking her home.” Spark doesn’t even try to look menacing. He just is. Jason is only a handful of inches taller than my own five feet five. But Spark . . . I’m not being dramatic when I say he towers over us. Probably wider than the two of us too. Wait, no. That is being dramatic.
I don’t know how to get out of this. His very presence confuses the heck out of me.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble,” Jason tries.
“Then go home and leave her here with me.”
Jason attempts to pull me slightly behind him. “We’re in a really public place. It would be stupid to try and take her. We’ll call the police.”
“Do it. But remember, I know who you are. I know where you live, Triple J.”
And that right there is the moment I realize I’m going home with Spark, because it’s safer for Jason, whom I am pretty sure I am never going to hear from ever again.
Jason’s fingers release mine. The first sign I’m on my own.
“Fine,” I say, solving Jason’s problem for him. “It’s okay, Jason. Spark and I know each other. I’ll let him take me home.”
“Are you sure?” Jason asks, the relief in his voice is almost comical.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Spark pulls out his wallet and tugs two hundred-dollar bills from what looks like a tight wad of them and then tucks them into Jason’s shirt pocket before patting it. “There. I bought dinner. Now off you go.”
With once last glance between Spark and I, Jason practically runs to his car.
“Your taste in men sucks,” Spark says as Jason drives away from the curb without even looking back.
“I’m not even talking to you,” I say as I march off down the street. The pavement is hard beneath the soles of my shoes. I wore them because they made my calves look good, not because I intended to walk home in them.
“Iris. For fuck’s sake, wait.”
I don’t. I’m mad.
He jogs alongside me, then in front of me, blocking me bodily from getting any farther.
“Triple J was a dick,” he says.
“So are you.”
Spark raises his hands in surrender. “How am I the bad guy here? You didn’t know that guy. You were going to let him drive you home. And he didn’t even stick around and defend you when I said I was taking you.”
“He tried.”
“He wilted faster than spinach.”
I hate that Spark is right. “Just let me go home. You officially killed my good mood.”
He catches my chin and tilts my head so I’m looking up at him. His fingers are gentle. “You don’t let guys know where you live in case they are rapists. You don’t let them take you to your house in case they roofied your fucking drink or something. Isn’t this girl safety 101?”
I hate that he’s saying this because he cares. In his own slightly fucked up way of caring. For someone who isn’t used to having anybody do that for her, it’s as welcome as it’s suffocating.
“It was a second date,” I admit, hoping it bothers Spark a little.
I see his eyes widen, and then he takes in my outfit. “Were you going to let him fuck what’s mine, little chick?”
“What’s yours?” I shout, even as I melt at my pet name.
Spark shrugs and takes my hand.
I snatch it away. “I’m ordering a ride.”
He leans towards my ear. “I’m taking you home on my bike. I will kill anyone who tries to stop me. So stop being so fucking difficult and come with me.”
“I don’t have pants.”
Spark looks down my body. “I noticed.”
“If I fall off your bike, I’ll die. Plus, this dress will ride up my thighs, and I’ll be naked.”
The corner of his mouth twitches up in a grin. “Now there’s a thought.”
I growl. At least, I think that’s the sound I make. I pivot and march back toward the restaurant.
“Iris,” he cautions. “Watching your ass in that dress and those heels is getting me hard.”
“And that is not my problem,” I yell.
The wind is knocked out of me when his arms wrap around me from behind. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I would kill anyone who interferes.” The words are whispered against my neck, but I see our reflection in a convenience store window, and we look like a couple being affectionate. “So fucking smile, come back to my bike, and climb the fuck on instead of putting other people’s lives on the line.”
I breathe for a second, then do as he says. I deserve a freaking Oscar for pretending he’s being playful not threatening. I pull away and do as he says.
I smile, even as it kills me.
“Fine.”
5
SPARK
“There’s a good girl,” I say, and take her hand.
Walking to the bike, it feels almost normal. Like we’re the ones who had gone on the date, instead of me practically threatening her to get her to come with me. She looks pretty. The blue dress hugs her figure, and I’m already harder than iron with Iris’s hand in mine and no sign of pussy on the agenda tonight.
King’s words of warning flash into my brain, and my stomach tilts at the thought of disobeying a direct order. But even the thought of disappointing him, of letting down my club, doesn’t ruin the moment.
When we get to my Harley, I climb on, then offer Iris my hand.
She doesn’t take it. “I refuse to die on a bike tonight.”
“You really think I’m that reckless?”
Her eyes meet mine. “I’m pretty sure nobody gets on a bike thinking they’re going to be the unlucky one who gets hit by a car or falls off it.”
I huff. “I take offence, Iris. I’ve never lost control of my bike.”
The fire goes out of her eyes, replaced with worry. “Your president got knocked off his and was killed. Sure he didn’t plan it either.”
And then I remember what she saw. Prez being ground up and spat out beneath truck wheels. I see the fear. “Shit. I’m sorry, little chick. I forgot you saw that.” I tug her to me and wrap my arms around her, feeling her resistance ease like taffy. At first, it’s tough to bite a piece off, but once the taffy gets to a certain point, it snaps easily.
I stroke up and down her back, soothing her. Do I go lower with every sweep? Of course I fucking do. I want to run my hands over her ass, to know what it feels like in my hands.