Page 38 of My Darling Mayhem

“The system is overwhelmed. They’re overworked, and things that should only take days take weeks. Sometimes months. By the time I got a new one and had them caught up to speed on everything…it’d be like we were walking backward. My best hope is that I can win her over.”

I considered what he’d said and felt my heart pinch with pity, which I knew he didn’t want. Still, what he was doing was admirable. I pushed his leg again with my bare foot until his eyes were on me.

“Why did Kane go into the system to begin with? You mentioned that your dad isn’t a good guy…but did something happen?”

“I feel like if you’re going to kick me and ask me personal questions...” He gently pulled my foot in his hand. “Then I get to at least touch you while you do it.”

A flush worked into my neck and face, but I didn’t move my foot. His warm hands felt heavenly.

“Might as well massage it while you explain,” I flexed my foot, wiggling my toes.

The smile that stretched along his handsome face warmed something deep and low in my belly. A piece of his blond hair fell over his forehead as he leaned forward and tucked my foot intohis chest. He started talking before I could even process how my heel had grazed his thigh, which felt like?—

“My father is a dangerous man. He was a member of Mayhem Riot…a founding member, but twenty years ago, he double-crossed the president. Nearly got him killed, and several other members too. He took off before anyone could find him. He left both me and my mom. We were too broke to move, so I grew up in the shadow of the club that hated my father and, for some reason, couldn’t stay away. So when I was fifteen, I pledged.”

“What does pledging mean?” I shifted so I was sliding my other foot into his lap. His smirk had heat sliding down my chest, pooling in my core. The thickness along his thigh pulsed, but I ignored it because that seemed easier than acknowledging that he was getting hard just holding my foot.

With a gentle touch, he transitioned from rubbing one foot to the other. “Pledging is similar to putting in a job application, but it’s to belong to a club, and there’s no money involved. If they think you’re a good fit, they put you through a ton of shit and see if you stick around.”

I tilted my head, smiling. “So it’s like a fraternity?”

“Yes and no…a one percenter motorcycle club pledge looks much different than some hazing in a fancy private college. The club president was hesitant to accept me, but his men convinced him that I hated my old man more than any of them did, and I might be more loyal to them than to him. So he let me in, made me a prospect, had me do some truly terrible shit…then he gave me a job so I could help support my mom.”

“Weren’t you in school?”

His thumb pressed into my arch, and I nearly rolled my eyes back. My ass slid down an inch or so, extending my leg so he had better access. I was aware that my shorts were slightly sliding up, but I was as in denial about that as I was about grazing his erection.

“I dropped out…got my GED when I was eighteen, went to a trade school for about two years until I decided I wanted to join the club. At that point, I had been a member for several years and moving up in the ranks.”

His hands cradled my foot, slowly moving his thumbs over the tender places in my soles, then gently over each toe. It felt intimate and soothing…and perfect. I didn’t realize we’d both been quiet until Archer cleared his throat.

“Never thought I had a foot fetish before, but shit, Wren.” His gaze slid over to me, his heated stare heavy and meaningful. “I think you may have converted me because all I want to do is kiss these toes.” His eyes flashed, and he hesitated before adding, “Maybe even slip one into my mouth and suck on it.”

My mouth felt dry, my chest all fuzzy.

“You better not because I do not have a foot fetish. I have the opposite of a foot fetish. I’m good with a foot rub, but you start kissing my feet, and I’ll?—”

A smirk tilted his lips up as he slowly brought my foot closer to his face.

“I ever tell you how much I love this color on you? It’s not one I ever really noticed before, but red on you looks fucking orgasmic.”

Pulling at my foot, I felt my face heat at his praise. “You’re going to make me?—”

“Come?” He smirked again, and even with my attempts at tugging my foot free, he didn’t let it go. His erection pressed into my free foot, and I did something so stupid. Something only a total moron would do if they wanted heartbreak and a toxic, messy situationship on their hands, but my desire to be touched was too intense. My need for connection took over, which was the only reason I used that free foot to gently prod at the thick bulge along the right side of his leg.

His quick intake of breath only encouraged me to push harder.

“Shit, that feels good,” he rasped while his eyes fluttered closed. I was almost positive this probably didn’t feel nearly as good as any of those women in his house probably did. When I walked through, half-naked women were everywhere. One was even on her knees in front of someone, her head bobbing up and down over someone’s cock. If that culture was what he was used to, then a little rub through the jeans likely felt very innocent to him.

The thoughts of the other women had me stopping my ministrations of rubbing him with my foot. His eyes popped open right as his head turned in my direction.

“Do you have—” How did I even phrase this without making it seem like I wanted something from him?

His deep voice rumbled against the sole of my foot as he brought it up to his lips and pressed a kiss there. “Protection?”

I gave him a flat look and deadpanned, “A girlfriend…or a wife?”

His beautiful head tipped back, in a laugh while his lips stretched over perfectly white teeth. “Do you really think I’m the type of guy who would be here, hitting on you, letting you massage my cock through my jeans while I have a girl somewhere waiting for me?”

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