Page 18 of Watcher

He remains standing when I sit on top of the picnic table. “I like the smell of your vest.”

“It’s called a cut.” He moves closer and reaches out to hold my hands. I let him without so much as flinching. His dark eyes are steady and mesmerizing like I could sit all night and stare at them.

“I didn’t see myself doing this,” I say. “Especially after today.”

He shrugs but continues to run his thumbs atop my hands. A lump catches in my throat, and I sit silent, watching him as he watches me, his eyes never wavering.

“I’m glad you came.” He takes another step forward, his hips against my spread knees. I think he’s intentionally going slow. He seems to know I’m new to whatever he wants to do.

“There’s something you need to know about me, Watcher.” I look away and take a deep breath. The man is a complete fucking stranger. Am I doing this because he saved my life? I don’t know. Maybe it’s to get back at Megan.

“There’s nothing you can say to make me want to stop.” He releases my hands and places his hands on my knees, his skin warm against mine. “You have the freedom to say no.”

“Are you sure?” The brat inside me seems to cower in a corner, and fear seeps its way into my head. “I should probably go.”

He steps away, and disappointment replaces the fear, sending it back to cower with the brat.

“You didn’t mean it, did you,” he says. It’s not a question. It’s him telling me I have no reason to be afraid. It’s him seeping into my mind and making himself at home.

“No, I didn’t.” I reach for his hands, and he moves forward between my knees. This time, he holds my chin in his hand.

“You can stop this anytime, Jess.” He chuckles, and there’s a sparkle in his dark eyes. “But I promise, you’ll never want it to stop once it starts.”

I want to ask him how he knows that. What makes him think he’s so special? But I don’t because I love his confidence. I love how he’s easing himself into taking control, almost lulling me into submission.

Watcher takes a step back when another biker rumbles into the parking lot. He has a woman on the back of his bike and helps her off when they park. The man is a monster, but the woman is built like I am. He slides his arm across her shoulders as they approach.

“I knew it was a mistake sending you there, but I figured you deserved the opportunity to redeem yourself,” the man says. He looks at me like he’s seen me before.

“This is Jessica Stallone,” Watcher says, nodding at the man. “Jessica, this is Beast. He’s the club President.”

“Your father owns the Memphis Stallions.” Beast gives Watcher the side-eye. “Let’s talk.” He starts away but stops and turns. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Stallone.”

“I’ll be back,” Watcher says and winks. “Maybe.” He pats my leg and walks away, leaving me behind with the other woman.

“It’s a lot to take in,” she says. “My name is Melissa, by the way. The club calls me Skittles.”

“Does he treat you well?” I ask.

Skittles chuckles. “Better than any man has ever treated me. I wouldn’t be here if he was an asshole.” She sits beside me and takes a beer out of the ice bucket on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, he has his moments, but I wouldn’t trade this life for anything else.” She grabs another beer. “You old enough?”

“No,” I say and take the beer. “But I am aging quickly.”

“Watcher is a good guy. Fucking weird in a lot of ways, but if you stick around with him, he’ll treat you right.”

“I’m not sure what my plans are,” I say. “I need something in my life. People think all my money makes me happy and gives me everything I could ever want. It’s not true.”

“Yeah, but most people prefer the opportunity to find that out.” She places the bottle on the table. “You need to know Watcher comes with a lot of baggage. He’ll tell you that. I’m telling you so you’ll give him a chance.”

“Thanks.” I point at the bike she and Beast rode in on. “Do you ride?”

“Absolutely not.” She sees my frown and slides off the table. But that doesn’t mean you can’t.” She walks over to the bike but doesn’t get on. “You want to ride,” she says.

“I think so.” I join her by the bike. “But I want more than that. I want my own gang.”

“You want your own club,” she says. “Don’t let them hear you call it a gang.”

“I have a lot to learn.” I motion at the closed garage door. “Watcher says there’s a bike in there we can work on. He’s going to teach me how to ride.”

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