Page 57 of Kneeling to Candy

Safe with a bulky biker who moonlights as a trained assassin and has a hit-list of the men who hurt me?

Abso-fucking-lutely!

It takes all my willpower not to break out in a fit of giggles.

“Never been safer. Butch does nothing unless I give the green light. He likes me…giving him directions,” I say, trying not to sound cryptic.

If Brandon has any idea what I’m referring to, he doesn’t let on. “What you’re telling me is that you two are serious.”

My heart does that weird skipping thing whenever I think of Butch. The guy makes me stupidly happy.

“You may have convinced me you’re good for this case.” He pauses, pointing toward the door. “However, there’s a man in the hallway who won’t be happy with you getting involved.”

Shit. He’s right.

Butch is going to be the hardest of all to convince I’m right for the job.

“Any advice on how I can break it to him?”

Brandon picks up his notepad to jot something down. He doesn’t look away from his notes as he says, “Perhaps drop the domme persona when having the conversation with him. It’ll mean more to him if you’re on the same level when discussing your involvement in the case.”

My mouth drops. “You know?”

He smirks before quickly schooling his features to one of indifference. “I didn’t until you confirmed it.”

I place a hand on my cocked hip. “Sneaky, Mister Therapist. You best keep this info under wraps, yeah?”

Brandon motions with his fingers in a zipper action across his lips before he waves me goodbye. “Good luck. Remember, I’ll be on standby.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CANDY

As soon as I open the door to leave my therapy session with Brandon, Butch is right there. He pulls me into his arms, holding me tight to his chest. I hug him back, not realizing how much I needed his comfort until I’m pressed tight to his body and breathing in his spiced cloves scent.

He kisses my forehead. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Straightening my shoulders, I pull far enough back to look at my biker. “I want to help, Butch.”

“You sure?” He studies me, his hazel eyes shifting between mine, like he’s trying to see if I’m being honest or trying to be brave. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. They can’t force you. I won’t let them if you say no.”

My heart squeezes. This man is too damn sweet.

I place my hands on his hard chest, enjoying the warmth and beat of his strong heart underneath my touch. He’s tense, strung tighter than a bow.

To calm him, I press a soft kiss to his lips. His body releases some of his tension under my touch.

“My protective biker boy. Thank you for caring about me,” I whisper against his lips.

He kisses me back, gripping me a little tighter. “Always.”

“I want to do this. Maybe I’m being selfish, but this is for me as much as it is for those abducted women. This is a chance to prove my worth to this club.”

Butch sighs. “You have nothing to prove to this club. Everyone here values you.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree. And even if you’re right, I need to do this to prove to myself I have something to offer our club. Hence, why I say this is for me as much as it is for those women. Do you understand?”

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